blackberries

I am beginning to wonder how much beauty I’ve missed. Partly because I am realizing in my always over-achieving-expecting way, I thought all beauty would come in huge spectacular packages however for this season, God is revealing this whole new brand. It’s huge but it’s not loud. Its missable to the distracted mind.

Rhythms are bringing us this beauty. When the day is long and all questions remain from start to finish, we hop on our bikes for an evening family bike ride. The air is perfect, crisp and warm, and my legs are eager to feel strong. We ride past all these houses and see through their back windows a view full of water and mountains. Jealously, I wonder what each of them does to get that view. We continue on into Magnuson Park where we ride along the water and see many people picnicking, kiting, riding, walking, throwing Frisbee, etc. and then the big old mountain comes in clear view. It’s still snow-capped.

As we turn up the path to head through the park we hit the blackberry bushes. Pushing our kickstands down we hop off and brave the thorns to test a few of the seasons berries. Hannah quickly exudes that the one she just ate was “super good.”

The darker more bubbly ones are the best and we hunt and collect and soon we have more than our snacking mouths need and we are dumping out the water in our water bottle so we can contain as many berries as possible.

The sun is literally making these bushes glow and we are surprised and confused a bit by the abundance. It almost seems wasteful and our productive selves want to pick and sell or share and not let a single one drop. At the same time, we are so encouraged by this prickly bushes that their bounty is available to all, it’s a nature gift.

It feels too generous. And the three of us cannot stop from enjoying and testing and sharing with one another. That at the end of what felt like unprosperous day comes this beauty and bounty. For us. If we see it.

We hop on our bikes with purple lip stains and head home for our last night in the “summer house”. We are energized and grateful right when we needed it. 

"Be generous in your self surrender.  " (Hannah Whitall Smith)

Our rewrite is underway. It has actually been underway for quite sometime now, we are just dressed in the awareness of our Leader now. And yet my morning prayer is that our begging hearts remain. I know we are alive, humble, and near when our longing is out on the table. for us to claim and the world to know, unabashadly we surrender our will and plans and expose our fear, anxiety, hope, anticipation as YOUR rewrite lapses over my well written script.  

It feels so very imperfect and less clear than we imagined. i ask God to let me recieve these provisions and trust that these doors we have said yes to don't mean we are lost again just because what is on the inside is yet again not what we pictured or requested. Yet it is provision. and the door was open. So we walk through. And hope.  

I have more to write about the last month than I can even possibly begin to riffle through in any order although I do want to remember. what's right in front is this - a new tiny place on the second floor of a triplex, one street up in our loved neighborhood and neighbors; a new job for me at The Seattle School of Theology & Psychology beginning Monday; Stephen taking August off to run this house and care for Hannah (lucky girl).  Not what we pictured but we are here, setting up camp, keeping our hands open for what's here and trying our hardest to love each other well in the rewrite.   

Toast to dad & ph

Lovely, Admirable and Praiseworthy things have whizzed by in the last two weeks without their fair shake of recognition.  This praise session will be divided into two posts because its slam packed with goodness.  It is hard to expand the heart in joy without giving time and space to gratitude, so today, I will. For the sake of my troop I must.  

First, was Father's Day and our 12th Anniversary all looped into one special June 16 day. Where to begin with the gratitude here... Well, I adore my dad. The last year has been no exception to the way he has deeply, sacrificing and faithfully supported and cared for my family and me. My father's heart still breaks everytime mine does and I am blessed with decades of verses, prayers and encouragement during trial from my dad. I feel so deeply loved by him and admire and enjoy who he is so very much.  This year has been fill with some wonderful Johnny, Ba, dad times on his visits in and out of the West Coast. My favorite memories are probably the runs around Greenlake together and watching him crack my daughter up with his silly antics that look awfully familiar from 30 years ago... It was such a joy to actually be together on this Father's Day, and even better to take our first Amtrack Cascades train trip together from Vancouver to Seattle.

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I am giddy thinking about Stephen right now. My stomach literally flutters and I find myself touching up my appearance before he comes home because I have this renewed crush. And this in a year where I really wasn't sure we could make it. My man is resilient as all get out, intent in his faith and pursuit of His God, full of grace, confident, strong, and fun. As a father he is pretty stern, easily impressed and joy-filled with his girl's accomplishments, her main imagination station, and thoughtful.  There hasn't been a year before where I wanted to celebrate him more. I wish he could know all he has meant to us in the last year. How he has still managed to ride bikes, make jokes, and draw intricate stories after hellish days amazes me. How he has woken up at 6am day in and day out for 10 months to find strength, Truth, and wisdom amidst a world that would say this faith gig isn't working out so good inspires me. How he finds it in him to see me, encourage me, and know me admist all the rattling in his own head. I just can't believe it. I am overwhelmed with renewed gratitude and respect for him.  happy 12 my love.

everything can be managed, except the heart

it's Monday morning. through the open windows I hear the wind crashing making the rain sound heavier and chilly June air billows into the house. Music plays waking up my heart and water boils for my egg as my stomach growls. Too much coffee already and its only 8am. My egg might be burning actually... hold.  

it's one of those days that i know the battle is on between my heart and mind. the war against stillness and peace lambasted by weighty responsibility, undone conversations, unending unknown. i picture myself pushing out the bricks as fast as the wall is being built that I don't want to separate out this heart, i don't want anything to block me from your voice, from Truth.  I am repeating what you have given me in my head to avoid the wall getting any taller where I move forward busy, worried, confused. 

i think about the nourishment going on right in front of my eyes as the grass gets greener and greener, the flowers more and more open and this year's vegetables appear from the ground. And I realize how well cared for I am, in ways not always appreciated, I too am nourished. I continue to receive daily bread. And as I remember hope springs back up in my heart. the weeks seems less daunting. 

last night my girl's mind was spinning too. she couldn't sleep and finally she asked me, "do you think anyone's going to like me?" she begins a vbs camp this morning. i quit being busy and aggravated that she isn't asleep and I look straight into her eyes and repeat Truth to her. And I walk out of her room wanting to cry.  All the new rooms and faces and roads and homes she has been into the last year, goodness me. And I realize how brave she is and i want to run back into her room and hold her, save her somehow. And I wake up with thoughts of her littering my mind, and I beg God to help me believe everything I told her. That I'll believe that God is humongous for her. Without me. That she is lovable, that she is fun, that she is kind, that she is creative, that she wants to learn - that she'll be a great friend.  And that I can't save her or protect her but that I will beg and hope that God's love to cover her. Again. Already. 

 

extension of the soul

Living so consciously is the most dang tiring thing. I am ready to zone out and these days very few tricks work to help me forget our place. its been 8 months. its been 4 years. i don't know which to pick where my longing began to growl. funny thing is i don't want to long anymore. except this week, i read the following: "befriend our yearning instead of avoiding it, enter the spaciousness of our emptiness rather than trying to fill it up, live into the longing rather than trying to resolve it." And then, " longing is the best altar for our prayers." and then, this real ringer... " By withholding vision, God extends longing, through longing, He extends the soul, by extending the soul he makes room in it. Let us long because we are to be filled... that is our life, to be exercised by longing." - St. Augustine

All i can say to the above is that I am full of space with a stretched out soul and all worked out. Longing is hard to befriend but she has kept me company so freakin long now, i mine as well call her that. recently we cannot pass a day without Hannah asking when she gets to go back to Charlotte. She misses her friends and her house and her cousins and seems to be everything. I think the last move really threw her. Anyway, her longing is constant and I am so worn by my lack of ability to give her the answer she wants, which at this point would be flight dates. i wonder how on earth to hug her longing all the while mine is over capacity in an air tight room. 

all the while days carry on that cannot be missed and must not be just survived but seen and lived. so we do, with all that we can muster. Stephen continues to work diligently with little thrills, ohs and ahhs, except from me who is very grateful for this provision. I have begun my search for work and accomplished 4 meetings/interviews in the last 7 days. Im pretty sure that is the 4 times I have used my hair dryer in a year and after a few wobbles, i settled back into my heels. i love them actually. Being back on the street feels mostly good and I am energized by these conversations.  Only shortly after each ends and I have pretended I am a total rockstar the truth of our life and timing sets in and I beg God for fresh air and a spoon of hope. I need a serving a day to believe that after these 8 months or 4 years or however we want to look at it, that somehow someway we'll have a place in 6 weeks when our lack of home and work sets in full. thats 35 days. i think i just threw up a little. 

celebration is still worthwhile and i intended to include it. with the help of my incredible mother, we survived the move. we even squeezed in a final happy hour with the neighbors.  Hannah has finished school for the year. I cannot get her to come inside, ever. She wants to bike, swing, and most recently hit the ball all the time. We live near some great trails so the other sunny night we decided to test out and see if Stephen and I could run beside her while she biked. She made it 3.4 miles. A wee determined. I was in TOTAL heaven. The next night we all biked on the trail to dinner & picnic. Double heaven. And then she decided that she didn't really need the tee for tee ball, since she had been hitting on it for say, a week, so she moved the tee and began hitting the ball! She is doing right by her Ba.  the girl cracks me up. her own joy at these accomplishments is so beautiful to see. i so wish we could all be that proud of ourselves. well, actually I have been trying too, to have some personal wins and I have been training for a half marathon.  last week I made it to 10 miles. i cried good sweaty tears. i love a win. 

 

the step right in front

"In the morning when I rise, Give me Jesus," the lyrics I have heard for most of my life now wave like a banner over our bed. the days tire us, but everyday, in a way we have never known, we start our days by saying, Give me your eyes, your wisdom, your peace for this exact day. Never ever in my life have I been in such a stark place of needing light on the very step in front of me. 

Sometimes i picture out little family's map and i see all the steps behind, but the path ahead is not yet drawn out. We have the path that leads us to the end of the sidewalk but have no idea which way to turn from there. My months of begging to see light beyond the end of the sidewalk seem futile. Our transformed weary hearts suddenly find  comfort for today's portion and for what you have shown us in the next block. 

In James 4 he talks about patience without complaining. He talks about endurance. When the pastor starting speaking on this passage yesterday I scribbled on the program "Return to Sender" next to the title of the title of the sermon "Shining in Darkenss" and handed it to Stephen. He laughed and held my hand and the pastor carried on about endurance with patience. and again, my first thought is IM TIRED OF PATIENCE. which is terribly ironic since that is the very definition of the word. ​ Can we ever pass this baton I think? 

And then he says, OUR light is forming through suffering. The reality of the character of  Christ in me being created right now in this seemingly lost place. in this time where i beg for light beyond the block, I see that this light is indeed shining brighter than i could ever imagine. With a magnifying glass I can now look at my map and see that the little family on the map with no trail marked before them are shining. Shining in Darkness. NOT because of us, of for peet's sake, we are hot mess accoridng to every standard that anyone we meet ask (where do you live, where do you work, what did you move here for, what is hannah gonna do this summer - blank face, blank face, blank face) BUT because of our hope, call it crazy, we too can shine in this place with so little marked ahead. 

"Wait with hope. Hope Now. Hope Always."​ Psalm 131

state of mind

i'm distracted. i don't like it. i forget what i am saying mid sentence and i forget what i am supposed to be doing. there is so much my mind has actually just gone blank. i think the pro's would probably call this panic attack/anxiety. my teeth are clenched, my jaw sore, from this feeling that i am forgetting or withholding. I could blame it on the tequila from too many margaritas in mexico but truth in this has been setting in like a heavy storm for the last month. i feel myself trying to run out from underneath the massive clouds but i keep getting confused and once i find the path again, i run as fast as i can but i can't beat the clouds, the storm is still above me. therapists, have at it.

my mind longs to go back to the place where there was one thought at a time. in efforts to thwart downtrodden mindset, this week I read Paul's encouragement to think on things that are pure, right, lovely.  At first I was like well Paul, that's a good idea, but at this point that would consume about 45 seconds of my day considering the lack of lovely. ​Unless what you are asking of me God is this continuing perseverance and presence in life.

Could my mind notice the gits arriving in boxes different than what i ordered? That i allow myself to take joy in hearing Hannah's laughter as she and PH draw an entire story board with stick figures, that i ran along the water this morning as a running buddy to a 5th grade girl in Girls on the Run whose mom never showed, that i have made a friend who cares about my family and me even in our trainwreckish state, that Hannah stops to collect flowers as she rides bikes because she can't believe how beautiful they are (sorry neighbors for the lilies you are missing... ), that last night while i miss PH so much, a little girl cuddled in bed beside me rubbing my arm and affectionately kicking (no thx) me throughout the night, that every morning i have good, hot strong coffee, and that a new box of hand-me-downs provides leotards, swimsuits, dresses and glitter for my quickly growing girl.

Ah, Paul, you are right, that is a bit healing, to dig in for the praiseworthy and admirable. WAY better than listing off my defeats of the day. Not that i squelch those to high denial but that i am sustained through the balance. the balance of living each day more conscious to the Spirit, more abandoned to anything good, surrendered on all that feels so out of control, in order to have and be all that we are for today. which would have never seemed like enough but is, we are okay. there is still lovely to recognize. 

"Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. 9 Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.​" Phil 4:8-9

mother's day thoughts on mothering

​On multiple occasions over the last year you mentioned that you wanted to switch out for a new mommy. I don't blame you. I sometimes have no idea who i am as mother. things changed for us a lot this year. we trekked cross country leaving the familiar for new and sometimes endless mother daughter days. Easily I can recall the first day PH went off to work and I looked over at you in our then tiny one bedroom abode in an entirely unfamiliar place and I felt a bit paralyzed. I literally didn't know what the heck we were supposed to do all day.

Directing activities didn't feel all that foreign to me, so i began to plan adventures so we could pump up our days in to nice little chunks of exploration divided by food and sleep. what i was totally unprepared for was that constant logistics would also be encased by constant emotions. My plans flopped frequently as my illusions of outings with a 4 year old met reality (you did nothing wrong, btw, just life and 1700 visits to the bathroom and 40000 snacks). Likewise, some moments have been far richer than my boxed-in mind could have ever dreamed. sometimes after ground shaking we find our way back to one another and our gentler selves. I tell you all the time we can always start over.

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when i think about our year, my head is like a slideshow of parks, coffee shops, museums, walks, bikes, and errands. the soundtrack offers clips of singing and dancing, sweet conversations, new words, gagloads of questions, and it also has more cries of longing, high-volume responses from both parties, words to regret and lines of ill patience. i far underestimated things like the task of getting dressed. i completely misjudged how quickly things could go from fun to fury. and i had absolutely no idea that there would be so many moments where i found myself searching ANYWHERE for a right, patient, teaching, appropriate, loving response. sometimes i would go into another room and picture that a boardroom full of men would be easier to come up with the next answer than heading back to the living room with my four year old daughter. Its so much different than i thought.

last week i heard a lecture on emotional intelligence for our children and while she offered many many ideas and methods she kept saying the number one way they are going to learn healthy emotional intelligence is from the modeling in their home. i basically fell out of my chair, quit taking notes and may have let a cuss word slip out. I was feeling so good when there were these great four steps and then she had to say it was mostly in the home modeling.  I wished i could write you a super dooper long apology. this has not been a year for me to be the emotionally intelligent role model. about every other day i've wanted to tell you that i am hanging on by a thread, but i see in your curious eyes you already know. not much gets by you. (why did you have to be so observant like your daddy, sheesh.)​


the thing is this year has also helped me focus on important in every way. you already tell me, "i know mom, you don't have to tell me again", everytime i tell you how wonderfully designed you are by God and that what makes you beautiful is your heart. you weary of the amount of times i encourage kindness and nearly force gratitude. I pray with you, i sing with you, and i know you see love in this house, and i beg God that those things tip the scales. That the raised voice or turned back is not featured in your slideshow. i don't want to walk away but sometimes I have no idea how to walk towards. i adore you, i am imperfect, I am learning. God loves you, He is faithful, all the time. ​