Barely breathing

Lifehouse has some amazing songs, and this one is the closest to describing my barely beating heart now.  I'm so thankful that the Lord holds on to us and pulls us through when times are hard!

The broken clock is a comfort

It helps me sleep tonight

Maybe it can start tomorrow
From stealing all my time

And i am here still waiting

Though i still have my doubts

I am damaged at best

Like you've already figured out

I'm falling apart

I'm barley breathing

With a broken heart

That's still beating

In the pain

There is healing

In your name

I find meaning

So i'm holding on

I'm holding on

I'm holding on

I'm barely holding on to you

The broken locks were a warning

You got inside my head

I tried my best to be guarded

I'm an open book instead

And i still see your reflection

Inside of my eyes

That are looking for purpose

They're still looking for life

I'm falling apart

I'm barely breathing

With a broken heart
That's still beating

In the pain

(in the pain)

Is there healing?

In your name

(in your name)

I find meaning

So i'm holding on

(i'm still holding)

I'm holding on

(i'm still holding)

I'm holding on

(i'm still holding)

I'm barely holding on to you

I'm hanging on another day

Just to see what you will throw my way

And i'm hanging on to the words you say

You said that i will be okay

Broken lights on the freeway

Left me here alone

I may have lost my way now

I haven't forgotten my way home

I'm falling apart

I'm barely breathing

With a broken heart

That's still beating

In the pain

(in the pain)

There is healing

In your name

(in your name)

I find meaning

So i'm holding on

(i'm still holding)

I'm holding on

(i'm still holding)

I'm holding on

(i'm still holding)

I'm barely holding on to you

I'm holding on

(i'm still holding)

I'm holding on

(i'm still holding)

I'm holding on

(i'm still holding)

I'm barely holding on to you

That's the way it ought to be...

I have a very unique blessing in my life of many, many kindred spirits.  The Lord has overwhelmed me with friends who I know will be by my side forever, supporting me, and lifting me up when I need it most.  One of those dearly cherished souls sent me this song the other day, and it brought tears to my eyes.  I am humbled to know that I am able to make others feel safe, secure, and blessed just as I have been... So, Mish, I'm posting this one for you, in the midst of hard times.  Thank you to you, and many others, including my WEASels, Amy and Cory who fight off my enemies and speak truth over my life...

More Than You'll Ever Know by Watermark

Something brought you to my mind today 

I thought about the funny ways you make me laugh 

And yet I feel like it's okay to cry with you 

Something about just being with you 

When I leave I feel like I've been near God 

And that's the way it ought to be... 

CHORUS:

'Cause you've been more than a friend to me 

You fight off my enemies 

'Cause you've spoken the Truth over my life 

And you'll never know what it means to me 

Just to know you've been on your knees for me 

Oh, you have blessed my life 

More than you'll ever know, yeah, yeah, yeah 

More than you'll ever know, yeah, yeah, yeah 

You had faith, 

when I had none 

You prayed God would bring me a brand new song 

When I didn't think I could find the strength to sing 

And all the while I'm hoping that I'll 

Do the kind of praying for you that you've done for me 

And that's the way it ought to be... 

You have carried me 

You have taken upon a burden that wasn't your own 

And may the blessing return to you 

A hundredfold, oh yeah... 

A hundredfold, oh yeah...

Thanksgiving

Well, it's cliche', but seeing as it's Thanksgiving tomorrow, it's time to say thank you to my Lord and Savior for the wonderful blessings in my life.  My eloquent writing skills are far from gone after the surge to get things ready at work and home for a four-day trip to the wonderfully peaceful town of Cashmere.  That being said, we'll go with the beloved bullet-pointed list.  If you follow my blog, despite its sparsity, you are already familiar with my affection for lists.

Happy Thanksgiving!

I am thankful for...

• First and foremost, the unconditional love and grace of God and His willingness to forgive me and bless me with salvation for eternity
• The life-saving friendships we have grown and made this year
• Mac: always and forever will amaze me with his patience and devotion
• Mom: reminds me that my words, actions, and attitude have the ability to bless others and share God's love if I choose to do so
• Dad: an overwhelming blessing of generosity and protection
• My mother-in-law, Kathy: a beautiful, genuine soul, an example of hospitality and nurturing
• My father-in-law, Steve: a laugh and heart after God
• Grama: one I cherish more than most... faithfulness
• Siblings: Brock, Stan, Nick, Anna... all examples of ambition and initiative

*The ability to be sappy and sentimental about my family, and then switch to one/two-word phrases, in no particular order...

• A Job
• House Church
• Security
• Music
• Food
• Coffee
• Education
• Warm socks
• Technology
• Babies
• Smiles
• Grace

Faithfulness

God's past faithfulness demands my present trust in Him.

Over the last three weeks, Pastor Rob has been leading our church through the "Stones of Remembrance" through the life and growth of Calvary Chapel Corvallis.  The most powerful message I have received his account of our church's history is summed up in the above statement.  No matter what we happen to be going through in life, God has always been faithful, currently is faithful, and will be faithful in our future.  There is never a time when we are uncared for, never a time He does not have His best interest in mind for the people He loves.  Through hard times, it is vital to feed on God's past faithfulness in order to survive.  We remember the times that He has seen us through the mire before and cling to the hope that He will remain faithful as He was during that fire-swamp.  Just as a child locks to his parent in trouble, so shall we hold fast to our Father the Protector.  He carries us through when things look destitute.  

Lamentations 3:22-23 encompasses the heart of trusting in the Lord: "Because of the Lord's great love, we are not consumed, for his compassion never fails.  They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness."  Sometimes I find myself reciting this verse over and over in my head, just to convince myself that we will, in fact, survive.  I must confess that I have faced minimal trials in my 23 years of life.  I will not share my entire book of life now, but I am constantly reminded how truly blessed and protected I have always been.  I thank the Lord for the testimonies of others who dwarf my faith and encourage me to see the fulness of God in a bigger light.  However, trials never cease in this life.  We live in a fallen world, plagued by the sin of all mankind.   Thus, we suffer.  Many pains are brought on myself by my own selfish ambition.  Others appear entirely unexplainable, far from fair, and seemingly unbearable.  And those are the moments in which we must hold onto the absolute truth that we will never be consumed because of the Lord's great consumed.  Though it feels as if we are drowning, never will be overtaken.  The Lord's compassion is never failing.  God's faithfulness depends neither on what we can observe nor on our perception.  

There will also be chapters in this book of life when things are fantastic.  Life goes smoothly, amazing blessings happen, everything is comfortable and secure.  It is in those moments we tend to forget the goodness and favor of our amazing Creator.  When things are good, it is easier to loosen our grip on God.  Friends, what I find is that it is in the good times that we need our Lord the most. 

The world will continue to deceive us.  We fix our eyes on financial stability, relational satisfaction, job security, covetous possessions.  Surely God created this world, everything in it, and gave man the ability to create new things to be enjoyed.  However, the moment it becomes more desirable than our relationship with Him, we sin.  We lose sight of what is most important, not only one what is most important, but on the only truth that is important.  

Ask yourself this:  Would you trade in all your money for one day with our God?  Would you give up your marriage, your relationship, your family if God reached out His hand to you and asked you to leave it all behind?  Would you give up your earthly body, your quest for perfection to be covered by His beauty?  Would you give up new clothes, the perfect job, your favorite food, simply to spend one second in His glorious presence?  It saddens me that I do not immediately shout "YES" to all these questions.  Humbly, ashamed, I merely hope I would nod.  The truth of the matter is, I love things too much.  I love my family too much.  It is time to begin caring less. 

Care less about life here on this earth.  Put your focus heavenward.  Store up your treasures in heaven.  All things here will come to an end, but God's love endures forever.  Hold on and never let go.

Valley

Jars of Clay captures my very heart today.

You have led me to the sadness

I have carried this pain

On a back bruised, nearly broken

I'm crying out to you

Chorus

I will sing of Your mercy

That leads me through valleys of sorrow

To rivers of joy

When death like a Gypsy

Comes to steal what I love

I will still look to the heavens

I will still seek your face

But I fear you aren't listening

Because there are no words

Just the stillness and the hunger

For a faith that assures

While we wait for rescue

With our eyes tightly shut

Face to the ground using our hands

To cover the fatal cut

And though the pain is an ocean

Tossing us around, around, around

You have calmed greater waters

Higher mountains have come down

Alleluia, alleluia

Alleluia, alleluia

Oh, Lord sing of Your mercy,

Mercy

Your mercy

Filth

Do you ever have those moments where you can't believe you've actually done something?  I sometimes wonder how I ever get to a place in my life where I am unaware of my actions, my thoughts, or the affect they have on others around me.  No matter how hard I try to reach perfection, to be a "good person", to put others first, or to live a pure and holy life, I seem to fail.

Pure and holy.  A concept that is far displaced from our fallen world, and often absent from my own life.  To live in a way that honors God in all moments, both in what is hidden and exposed.  And while we put on a facade of a sparkling, white life, we fail to realize just how far sunk we are in the own disgusting mire and muck of our sin.  No one is holy, no one is righteous.  Holiness has the ability to stand before God the Creator completely naked and bear no hint of shame.  Purity reflects a lifestyle of honest, transparent beauty, that should a light be held up to it, it will shine right through.

My life lacks all traces of transparent, raw beauty.  Instead, I put on the act each day... I wear the pressed clothes, I glue a fake smile to my face, I say kosher things and try to be nice.  Deep inside, though, where noone else can see, is a broken, vomitous soul.  If you etch away the white coating, you would find nothing but ashen black; charred, muddied filth.

Everything about my existence sickens me.  I think about the things I have said or done in my life over the years and find myself wishing I could take them back.  If only I could make up for my mistakes, for the ways I've hurt other people, for the sins I've committed against my Maker.

I see the Lord, seated on His throne, exalted.  While the train of His robe fills the temple with glory, I see but a sad tear fall from his eye.  His heart breaks over the selfish choices His child makes, and He can't do anything but hope she returns to His arms, where she belongs.  It is not til I lift my face out of the muck and slime that I realize, His robe is covering me... He covers my shame, he covers my guilt... and as I rise to my feet, choosing to leave my life of sin and selfishness, I feel his warmth and grace wash over me, releasing the weight I've been carrying.  Oh, how He loves us, so much to lift us up out of our darkest moments, to cover me and wash me white as snow.

Oh, Father above, make me whole.  Wash me white as snow.  Forgive me my transgressions.  Lead me back to the Cross; to your healing grace.  Wrap me safe in your arms.  Lord, save me from myself.

Sometimes...

... my brain stops working.  It seems there is so much to say, yet no words form on my fingertips.  My mind is swarming with indistinct thoughts, none of which I can organize.  The chaos inside has a dizzying effect on my ability to function.  I long for serenity.  To have a calm, smooth blankness would be suffice.  Rarely do I request anything without explanation or clarity.  Out of desperation, I simply wish for peace.

Trying to listen

James 1:19 - 20 "My dear brothers, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry for man's anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires."


Why is it that we are so quick to speak and slow to listen?  I find myself more inclined to share my opinion, to spill my woes and sorrows on any willing ear.  And then there's the dilemma when other people are talking and you are indeed listening, but you hear nothing because you are waiting for them to shut up so you can talk.  Ever experienced the situation where you are asked a question and in the middle of your answer, the person interrupts and rants about a completely unrelated topic?  Yeah, I do that to people. It goes something like this:

Other person: Have any plans for the weekend?
Self: Well, yes, actually--
Other person: Oh! That reminds me, I was watching the news and it seems that the progress on such-and-such case is....

If I ever do that to you, please tell me to stop interrupting... it's rude and insensitive and I never mean to do it to you.

I've found that if you get interrupted enough times, you tend to stop talking altogether.  Why try and say something at all if noone really cares what you're going to say?  This whole revelation has helped me realize that I need to be a quicker listener.  The less talking I do the better.  Not for the mere fact of protecting myself from defeat, but because I realize how much it hurts others when they're trying to be heard by a deaf ear.  There is much more to listening than simply being able to interject "uh huh" "I see" or "no way" at the appropriate times.  Listening includes validating the person's feelings (i.e., i see how that would be disappointing..), offering support (would you like to tell me more? or what can i do to help you?), and making an effort to understand (it sounds like you feel discouraged because this happened...).  A step in the right direction would be as easy as asking about the other person's life rather than jumping in with my own stories.  I try not to let a conversation go by without asking "How was your day?" or "How are you feeling" (and waiting to listen to the answer!).  It's really not all that difficult, but still I fail to do so sometimes in my selfish ambition for myself to be heard.  


Then there is the issue of what comes out of my mouth when I do speak... sometimes, I let my mouth get ahead of me.  I say things about situations or people that are untrue, hurtful, and insensitive.  When I stop and think about what I'm actually saying and I realize how I would feel if someone was saying it about ME, I shut my mouth.  In Ephesians, Paul commands: "Let no unwholesome talk come out of your mouths but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs that it might benefit those who listen." My heart is screaming conviction at me right now.  If something constructive needs to be said, let me say it in a helpful manner rather than as slander.  For the past few months we have been going through the book of Proverbs.  Essentially all 31 chapters addresses the tongue, lips, mouth, or words in some form or another.  Our speech is a dangerous weapon if not controlled. While it has the power to soothe like balm or satisfy as honey, in an instant we choose to use it to cut people down, especially those we love the most.  I catch myself regretting most things I say and have found it better to simply keep my mouth shut if I can't say something nice (although I have failed to tame it effectively).  A constant work in progress, my ambition is to actually be encouraging with my words that they might benefit those who listen.

Mercy

What would our world look like if we examined ourselves?  If everyone else was like me, we would be remorseful, discouraged people.  The self-examination of our hearts leads us to a place of beautiful transformation.  Not one person could unveil their secrets and feel they have reached perfection.  Instead, the willingness to look at the heart authentically brings a raw chance for surrender.  Vulnerability must be present for mercy to rush in and cover all our shame.  And in this moment of naked disgrace, truer glory has never been known... the glorious forgiveness of our Lord and Savior! 
Oh Father, with reckless, hopeless abandon, I come before you a hypocrite, a sinner.  Wash me white, cover me with you blanket of grace.  Make me beautiful once again.


Inspired from Isaiah 43.

Productive!

I would consider today a productive day... I've posted on both my food blog, this one, and plan to update the family blog which is a major success considering it's been almost a month since any have been touched!  Sorry if you are a regular reader... I've been a letdown. =)

Also accomplished today, in both sun and rain:

• Picked 22 lbs. of organic strawberries with Mac
• Started one batch of strawberries, bananas, and apples in the dehydrator
• Hulled all the strawberries and begun flash-freezing them
• Found perfect Father's Day cards for both dads
• Watered my garden
• Found the first produce in our garden: a little green bean!
• Picked raspberries from the neighbor's yard
• Said hi to my parents
• Walked downtown with my Mac to get our favorite chai and take the computer to the Mac store
• Went into the Inkwell WITHOUT begging Mac to buy anything
• Rigged up a clothesline in the backyard
• Cleared the yard of weeds that came up to my waist
• Pruned the rosebushes (I know it's the wrong season, but they were falling over...)
• Discovered the herbs that previous renters planted are edible
• Thought about what to do with the 22 lbs. of strawberries and decided to make some strawberry crisp for dessert.

What beauty I find in a productive Saturday!  Now, to continue the productivity without going absolutely insane... on the docket for tomorrow after church:

• Go to Costco
• Make granola, adding in some of the dehydrated strawberries
• Get some laundry drying on the clothesline (if it's not raining)
• Bake bread
• Read my book
• Play piano
• Clean the house
• Dinner with the fam for Dad

Proverbs 15

I have an image of a gray ashen heart, blackish-red coals lumped about.  I ask for your joy, for your cleansing with my arms outstretched, but I can't lift my hands high enough when I'm reaching for you my God.  Out of brilliant light comes a downpour of your Spirit in the form of pure and radiant snowflakes.  They fall in a blizzard as your grace covering me and my ashen heart turns to white.  The ash turns to joy and it escapes, flowing from my mouth as beautiful butterflies, full of color and delicacy.  They flow from my mouth as a song of praise, surrounded by radiant flowers, exotic, more beautiful than any I've ever seen.  As they rise to you, through the brilliant light I see a flawless hand reach down, open palmed to receive it as an offering.  My soul sing, how I love you for your cleansing flood of grace!

A Perfect Day.

Sometimes I forget just how much God longs to spend quality time with his Beloved.  Isaiah 62:5 says "As a bridegroom rejoices over his bride, so will your God rejoice over you."  I love how the Lord helps me understand his love better through life experiences that I can envision. Have you ever thought about what type of one-on-one time God desires to spend with you?

Imagine a brisk spring day.  The sun fights its way through dreary clouds, which threaten to elicit an intense downpour at any given moment.  Every once in a while a brief wind creeps up unexpectedly.  The unpredictable weather doesn't bother you, though.  Nothing could possibly ruin the delight of being alone with your Beloved.  It's a day for adventure, just you and your Beloved.  You're not sure exactly where the road will take you, but you find peace knowing you're going somewhere together.  Better yet, you're going on the path that your Beloved leads you down.  You can't help but smile every time He looks at you. A supernatural warmth surges through your limbs and you shiver, blaming it on the wind.  "I love you," He says.  You hardly believe Him, but you know it's true; He has shown His unconditional love through so many sacrifices and acts of service that you can't help but desire to shower Him with the same love.
After many impromptu decisions, all with predestined outcomes, you arrive at a quiet park.  The ancient cottonwood trees tower overhead, leaves rustling as they sway in the breeze.  If you pay careful attention, you can watch the chipmunks scurry through the green grass to their bunkers.  Your beloved takes you by the hand and leads you down a trail that parallels a gently flowing river.  Together, you have not a care in the world.  The hardships of life fade away in His presence.  You feel you could spend hours strolling hand-in-hand, stopping every few minutes to look into His eyes and see that yes, He does, in fact, think the world of you.
"You're beautiful," He says.  The smile that has been glued on your face all day turns to a confused frown.  You look around at all the beauty His Father created and wonder how He could possible be putting you above it.  "More beautiful than the sun," He assures you, with complete sincerity.  How is it that the One who brings intense calm over your complicated soul finds you stunning?  You can't understand it.  Someone so perfect can look passed the scum of your life, your blemishes and disfiguration, and see beauty.  That is the love of your Beloved.
The path continues through the woods accompanied by the sound of the river lapping up against the shore.  Sheer bliss rushes through your heart just to be close to your Beloved.  He leads you to a bench, hidden from the chaos of the world around you.  You sit and talk about all things under the sun, carefree and open, feeling an unshakable security in His arms.  "I could talk to you for hours," He whispers softly in your ear.  To hear your Beloved desire to know the inner workings of your mind and heart brings you more comfort than ever.  You soak in every minute spent with Him, knowing that this is the type of unity God intended you to have with your Beloved.  If only we took time every day to sit in the presence of the One who loves us, enjoying His company, exposing vulnerability, and basking in His love.

This is the type of joy God desires us to experience... joy that comes from accepting the grace and love of His Beloved.  Joy that comes from embracing your identity as the Beloved of the One who covers all.

"You complete me."

The quote is from Ice Age, and is the common saying of the wonderful, the amazing, the one-and-only Ashlie Mae Keimig.  There's a lot of situations I could apply to that statement, but in this post, we're going shallow... the loveseat and chair complete the newly purchased sofa!

For those of you who don't know, my parents offered to buy us a couch back in September.  Well, being the ridiculously frugal and picky people that we are, it took us 7 1/2 months to decide on which one to purchase.  On Wednesday we finally landed on this Pompeii-Natuzzi, dark brown ("llama" to be official)  Italisofa from The Inkwell.  It was on a close-out sale and we got a killer deal for my parents.  

Well of course, I am never content (it's something I need to work on), and when I saw the WHOLE set, I wanted it.  We wrestled with the best option, whether or not to purchase it and eventually (3 days later) decided to go ahead and get it.  So now, our little living room is all set and the sofa is happy with it's friendly counterparts.  You complete me.

C.M.

I just needed to take a moment to tell everyone something... I absolutely adore these people! Josh & Krissa Dorfner are amazing, wonderful people and I love them so much. They bring wonderful joy to my life. Okay, now I'm done saying "they". Yes, I love Joshy very much, but really, I just want everyone to know how much I love the lovely lady in this picture! (I'm cut and dry, brutally honest)... So, Josh, enough about you...

... Krissa Jeanne Stephens Dorfner. Cookie Monster. My best friend. Going on 12 years of friendship. Sisterhood. She's been with me through thick and thin, and taught me so much about life and God's love and grace. I had the immense privilege to be used by the Lord to tell her about His salvation in 2002, 8 years ago.... I'm so happy she let me be part of her decision to follow Christ, and allowed me to help baptize her. She reminds me everyday of the power of prayer. When I cry, she cries with me and then makes me laugh. She rejoices with me when I'm happy, and always brings me back to reality. Honesty is always in her words. Basically, I just really love this girl to death! And I thought everyone should know. Enough Said.

The Wonderful Cross

Candy. For children especially, that's the first that comes to mind when they hear "Easter". The "Easter Bunny" (usually grandma) gives a basket full of fake grass and plastic eggs that contain chocolate, jelly beans, cheap toys, and marshmallow chicks. After church, there's always a big Easter Egg Hunt where some kids feel left out because they didn't find the golden egg. And then everyone sits down and eats lots of food... usually some deviled eggs and ham are involved. Thus concludes Easter in the average American home.

I don't want to lose sight of what this day is really about. It's easy to get caught up in even the simplest parts... I treasure the family time, and definitely enjoy all the good food. But, why exactly do we celebrate? Is it because of the candy? The Bunny? The eggs? No. We celebrate because one Man took the weight of the world on His shoulders. How deep the Father's love for us, that He would allow His only Son to die. And He didn't die just any death. Can you imagine bearing a cross? Christ carried His on His bleeding back, up a hill to the spot where he would die. For you, for me. Can you imagine having a rod driven through your arms and your legs, attaching you to that cross? Christ bore the pain. For you, for me. He died, hanging on that cross, suffocating because it hurt too much to push himself up to fill his lungs with air. And when He died, everything was shaken... it changed, for you, for me. And the most amazing part - He rose again! On that first Easter Sunday, Christ was resurrected from the dead, and gave us the promise of freedom that came from His dying breath. How amazing, how wonderful the Cross of my Savior.

Letting Go.

Church was incredible this morning; Pastor Rob felt led to have the whole service be worship and prayer instead of teaching what he had prepped. I had the Lord give me to images that really tugged on my heart....

I'm on a dusty plateau holding a thick boating rope. The rope trails down over the edge of the cliff and halfway down is a net containing my life. I hold onto the rope for dear life, but I can only feel the net's weight slipping away. My hands are red with rope burn, my shoulders and legs shake with muscle strain. I desperately want to hold onto my net, to keep it from crashing to the earth below. Behind me, where the dust meets the pine trees, I hear God's voice. Calm. Let go. Come to me... walk with me in the woods. Let your net go; trust me.
I'm scared. The net contains all of who I am. How does He know it will be okay? Everything will shatter when it falls. Trust me. Let go, my Beloved.
The rope is slipping out of my sweaty palms. I can't hold on any longer. I cry out in exhaustion and frustration, but His voice covers my cry: Come to me! Let me show you. Let go, Mikaela. Let go. I listen, eyes shut tight, I release my weary grip and turn, running with all I have left to His embrace. Safe in His arms. I am able to rest and be freed from the worry of what happened to my net. He supports me and leads us through the woods down a gently sloping path. As we walk, He breaks off an aloe plant and rubs its slave on my burnt hands. Immediate relief. The further we walk, the more my net fades from my thoughts. He hums softly a love song. The path winds along His stream until we are in a clearing at the bottom of a towering cliff. I realize we are where my net should have fallen. I begin to fear of its shattered contents, but He wraps His strong arm across my shoulder and points. There is an empty net, the rope coiled about it. Empty? He redirects my attention and I see elgantly wrapped presents at the base of the cliff. For you, my darling. Trust me with them. Enjoy them. This is your life - open them. For you, my darling. My life restored... unwrapped, not trapped in a net, not covered with dust, not shattered to pieces. Restored.

A knot. Complete tangle of string. I keep trying to pick it apart, but the more I try, the more damage I do. I see His hands... one reaches out to me, asking for the mess. The other holds a pair of scissors. He's going to cut my life apart? I don't want it to go to pieces... Trust me, He says. Eyes shut tight, I timidly hold the knot out to Him. He takes it gently and all I can hear is the sound of His sharp scissors snipping. What have I done? I open my eyes and see my string in a million little pieces, but the knot is gone. And then, like a magician, He gathers all the pieces in His hands, rolls them together, and pulls out the long smooth strand. Restored.

It eats away...

My prayers are with my best friend's family today... Grandpa Olson passed away last night after a battle with cancer. We thank the Lord that he no longer suffers, but grief is never easy.

I only meant Grandpa twice. The first time was about 6 years ago; Krissa invited me to join the family for a vacation to Ontario, Oregon to visit her grandparents. For those of you who don't know where Ontario is, it sits right on the Snake River across from Boise. Her grandparents house sat on a quiet little street with lots of space.... They made such a peaceful escape for us... Her grandfather was a master artist in woodwork, stained glass, and landscaping. I wish I had a photo of him, but this is Krissa and me (and Abby) enjoying his creations outside the house. I don't know much about grandpa besides that he was a retired military man who loved his family.. a quiet spirit in my mind. I can only sympathize with the pain of loss but also rejoice in knowing he is at peace rather than misery.

The Lord has been reminding me lately of how short this life is. I'm currently in the book of Ecclesiastes, which is all about how meaningless life is. Solomon, believed to be the wisest man ever to live, found that after all his wisdom, all his wealth and riches, still life was empty. He kept searching for fulfillment and came up short. "For who knows what is good for a man in life, during the few and meaningless days he passes through like a shadow? Who can tell him what will happen under the sun after he is gone?... death is the destiny of every man; the living should take this to heart." (Ecc. 6:12, 7:2)

Death hurts. Each time it comes and swallows up a loved one I am reminded of its sting. We lost Mac's grandfather in December, and I am reminded yet again of the ache that constricts my chest. When there is nothing you can do to bring them back. Nothing you can say to make the ones that were closest to them stop hurting. Death is ugly.

But God's grace is beautiful. I'm so thankful for the sermon on Sunday, the consistency of my quiet times, the conversations I've had lately, and even the recent passing of loved ones. God intended us to enjoy His creation and that which he gave us while having a vision of eternity. He has a way of speaking through every possible vessel around me, whether it be my husband who exercises outstanding patience with me, my grandma who loves to just spend a minute with me, a co-worker who sees the best in me, or a best friend who helps me through the difficult times... all conversations remind me that this life is full of His beautiful grace and love.

Our family friend passed away almost 2 years ago this April and I will never forget the last moment I spent with him. He gave me this little card that had a picture of St. Francis of Assissi on one side and his prayer on the other. He told me to make it my life goal, just as he has. Well, Superman, you succeeded - your life has touched so many...

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury,pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen

Heaven

I had the divine privilege to listen to our worship pastor preach this morning at church. He gave us a "break" from Proverbs and dove in to a sermon that he titles, "Heavenly Minded". The first question he asked was: What do you picture when you think of heaven?

To be perfectly honest, I don't think of heaven all that often. It seems there is plenty to worry about here in the current life... so much to want, to buy, to need. Thing is, we're supposed to set our mind on things above (Colossians 3:2). This life is going to come and go. In less than a century, we'll waste away. And in another century, we will be completely forgotten. That's a sad and morbid thought, apart from the glorious hope we have in heaven.

Heaven isn't just some place in the clouds with vapors of people with wings and halos. No, the Bible has so much more to say about what heaven will be like, and we just seem to skim right over it. Ryan gave us a bunch of different passages today that refer to the heaven to come as the best things of this life: there will be all of God's glorious creation (mountains, oceans, forests, sunsets), food, wine (yes, wine!), singing, and so much more. The best part - I'm going to get to see God face-to-face... and it's going to put me on my knees...The things we enjoy here on earth are just an appetizer of the heaven to come. Randy Alcorn wrote a book called "Heaven" that I've put on hold at the library... I want to be excited for heaven, and "get a grip on heaven so I can loosen my grip on this life."



I'm so thankful that Christ lead a sinless life and took the punishment for my sins, resurrected again, and forgave me that I might live in eternity with my Maker. Wow. Have you ever stopped to think about that? It really changes my mindset on daily life. Am I living in a way that brings glory to His name? Do the choices I make and the words I say reflect His love and forgiveness? I want everyone to have that same hope in eternal paradise that I've found. And I always find that I could do more to share...

Do you have that hope? Just as heaven is reality, hell is also a very real and scary place. Do you know where you're going? It may be cliche, but check out John 3:16. God's grace is abundant in Christ's salvation.

Library

Confession: I love the library. Yes, I'm a nerd. I don't care; the library is cool, okay?

I went to the library today for the first time in a long time... haven't been there since August except to pick up my books on hold, but even then - I picked up 11 books at one time and then kept renewing them online until I couldn't renew them anymore. (I didn't finish all 11, by the way). In all honesty, I was only hitting up the library today because Grama had some books to be picked up, but while I was there, I fell right into the "oh, I'll just check if they have..." trap. I was there for 45 minutes. I came home with 4 books: 1 Dekker novel, 1 on the history of coffee (okay, really REALLY obsessed with that black beverage), and 2 that are well... cookbooks.

Yep, nerd. I check out cookbooks from the library - what of it? Which brings me to my next point. Is it wrong that I have an obsession with cookbooks? And cooking magazines... I just have this constant need to look at new recipes, read all the procedural tips, and so on. I would spend all day looking at cookbooks if I could. Especially if there are pictures. Which is what I've been doing since I got home at 6:30; looking at cookbooks. From the library.

So, the one cookbook that I have decided I absolutely, 100% need and cannot live without is The America's Test Kitchen Family Baking Book. Oh. my. goodness. Stuffed French Toast, Rustic Italian Bread, Calzone, Turtle Brownies, Cinnamon-Swirl Cookies, Granola Bars, Whoopie Pies, Rustic Fruit Tarts.... ah, my mouth is watering. I think I might've just drooled a little. And not to mention all the amazing kitchen supplies/utensils and equipment that it recommends. I want, I need.

Okay, I don't NEED any of this, but boy do I love America's Test Kitchen Baking Book. And all cookbooks. And the library.

Song Post

The Lord has been constantly reminding me of His grace... I don't have words to express how I treasure His salvation. But, good thing, in times like these when I'm speechless, bands like Sanctus Real write songs like "I'm forgiven" to say exactly what's on my heart.



"I'm Forgiven" By Sanctus Real

Well, the past is playing with my head
And failure knocks me down again
I'm reminded of the wrong
That I have said and done
And that devil just won't let me forget

In this life
I know what I've been
But here in Your arms
I know what I am

I'm forgiven
I'm forgiven
And I don't have to carry the weight of who I've been
'Cause I'm forgiven

And my mistakes are running through my mind
And I relive my days in the middle of the night
And I struggle with my pain
And wrestle with my pride
Sometimes I feel alone and I cry

And in this life
I know what I've been
But here in Your arms
I know what I am

I'm forgiven, yeah
I'm forgiven
And I don't have to carry the weight of who I've been
'Cause I'm forgiven

When I don't fit in
And I don't feel like I belong anywhere
When I don't measure up to much in this life
Oh, I'm a treasure in the arms of Christ

'Cause I'm forgiven
I'm forgiven
And I don't have to carry the weight of who I've been
'Cause I'm forgiven

Penned Words

I have devoted this overcast Sunday afternoon to writing. It should be no surprise to you that I have an agenda for doing so... well, of course I do - me, the obsessive list-maker. There are a few things that are necessary when I set aside time for writing: a warm beverage, a blanket, and headphones. Some might think it's strange that I listen to music while I write, especially if I'm writing something in particular. But this is how I drown out the cheerleaders on Mac's basketball game, the sound of the dishwasher (YES, I have a dishwasher!), and focus my thoughts. I actually gain a lot of inspiration from lyrics as well. So, here I sit... A WEASel mug full of my newly purchased Vanilla Red Tea, my heavy red blanket wrapped around my lap, and the new Needtobreathe Album streaming through my ears, ready to put the pen to paper. Figuratively speaking.

Everyone knows that no one uses pen and paper anymore. When I speak of this writing, I really mean typing. And that's what I'm doing. Don't get me wrong, I thoroughly appreciate the art of actual writing, like practicing my handwriting. And I do, every day at 6:30 am. But, when I'm on a roll, working on my blog, my letter to my dearest husband or my novel that needs some tender loving, the speed of typing is mandatory.

Oh, well there ya go. On the agenda for writing this afternoon:
1. Blog. I've been pretty good about updating the food blog lately, been okay about updating this one, and terrible about updating the family one. Today, I'm accomplishing a post by writing about how I'm going to write.

2. A letter to my husband. During our dating years, especially when we would be 7 hours apart in the summer, we used to write each other letters. There's something inexpressibly romantic about writing a letter to the one who makes your heart skip a beat. We've been married for 1 1/2 years and I haven't written him a letter once during our marriage. I think its time to do so.

3. My novel. A while back I let out a little secret that I would be writing a book. The topic remains undisclosed as I don't want to set myself any expectations. Also, there is no outline. No timeline. No deadline. Nothing. It's just coming about as the Lord leads and puts words on my heart to add. I have a couple pages done. Not nearly anything to rave about yet. It's just a baby.

So now, I shall move on to agenda point #2. Have a wonderful Sunday!

Real Simple

I get these emails from Free Snatcher for special deals and samples. My favorite item of note are the magazine samples. I've received free issues of all sorts of magazines: Gourmet, Organic Gardening, Tennis (for the husband), Remedy, and Real Simple.

Real Simple just came today. Oh. my. goodness. I was already aware that I LOVE this magazine, but this was the 10th anniversary edition. That means it was twice as big as normal. It also means that it was AMAZING. I love it. I asked Mac if I could have a subscription to Real Simple for my birthday (3 months away, mind you) and he didn't seem to agree with the idea. Oh well, a girl can wish. It's the little things in life.

Anyways, there were so many good cooking, housekeeping, decorating, and beauty ideas in this one, I can't even share them all. I have pretty much every page dog-eared. It's THAT good. The article that stuck out most to me was this: "22 things that are really, truly worth your time"

I dare you to do one.

-Stop and smell a gardenia
-Read the wedding announcements in the Sunday newspaper
-Curl up with your favorite childhood book
-Call someone's supervisor to praise a job well done
-Make the bed
-Let your toddler set the pace (ok, if you don't have a toddler, just slow down your pace)
-Take an affordable class or workshop not related to your career
-Eat something you grew
-People-watch on public transportation
-Spring the kids from school for the day (or yourself from work)
-Put down the box and bake a cake from scratch
-Hold the door open (for someone else)
-Enjoy a civilized breakfast
-Go on a "man date" (or the female equivalent)
-Write thank-you notes
-Document just one week of your life (photograph daily routine, collect receipts and stuff, write a daily message to yourself, then make a scrapbook of that)
-Spend "floor time" with your spouse (basically talk)
-Listen to an entire cd in one sitting
-Toast the sandwich bread
-Take a road trip and stop at every cheesy roadside attraction along the way
-Train for, then run, a race for charity
-Watch one of these YouTube tearjerkers: Christian the Lion, The Patrick Henry Huges Story, Kseniya Simonova's Sand Drawing (by recommendation of Real Simple)

Brain Overload.

That's all I've got for you today.

"Out of the abundance of the heart...

... the mouth speaks." - Matthew 12:34

At church on Sunday, our pastor taught through Proverbs 10. Do you know how many verses in Proverbs 10 talk about how our speech reflects our character? Enough to feel convicted!

"... a chattering fool comes to ruin" v. 8
"...a chattering fool comes to ruin." v. 10
"the mouth of the righteous is a fountain of life, but violence overwhelms the mouth of the wicked." v. 11
"Wisdom is found on the lips of the discerning." v. 13
"Wise men store up knowledge, but the mouth of a fool invites ruin." v. 14
"He who conceals his hatred has lying lips, and whoever spreads slander is a fool." v. 18
"When words are many, sin is not absent, but he who holds his tongue is wise." v. 19
"The tongue of the righteous is choice silver, but the heart of the wicked is of little value." v. 20
"The lips of the righteous nourish many..." v. 21
"The mouth of the righteous brings forth wisdom, but a perverse tongue will be cut out." v. 31
"The lips of the righteous know what is fitting, but the mouth of the wicked only what is perverse." v.32

33% of chapter 10 talks about our mouth. This has been my focus this week... learning how to hold my tongue unless what I'm going to say is beneficial and uplifting to others. When I actually focus on it, I realize just how much I say that is NOT edifying. I don't use profanity or cut people down, but I definitely have a lot of room for improvement. My biggest goal this week in particular is to just keep my mouth shut.

Saturdays

I was going to sit down and write a nice, long, inspirational post on this Saturday morning. But, as you might guess, based on the entry sentence, I will be doing no such thing. No... all week long (and this was a long one), I look forward to Saturday. I love my job, I love my co-workers, and I love the unpredictability (who knew executive assistants, business managers, and human resources coordinators dig and lay gravel paths??) of the five days spent at work. But, I also love my Saturdays. Throughout the week, when I'm short on sleep, busy hanging out with friends and family, trying to coordinate two people's schedules in two different cities with one car, figuring out what's for dinner, and spending the majority of the day on the job, all I can think about is how excited I'll be when it's Saturday and I don't HAVE to do anything. And when Friday comes (only one more day til Saturday!), I think, "Oh MAN. I get to sleep in tomorrow. I can do nothing tomorrow. I can go on a run in the sunshine tomorrow."

Who am I kidding?

No, no. This Saturday (not unlike the rest of them) is packed to the brim with no resting available. Of course, it's different kind of work, the kind that I choose to do, but still, it's not being lazy. This Saturday began at 6:45 a.m. because my stupid brain thinks it's time to get up. And when the brain thinks, there's no stopping where it goes. Therefore, I'm up at 7 this morning, trying to be quiet so as not to wake my peacefully sleeping (jealousy stirs in me at the mention of sleep) husband. Well, there's really no being quiet when I decide to start a load of laundry. One might think I could wait until later, but no, not when there's 5 loads to do, one of which is mud-caked clothes thanks to two days of digging in the rain with my lovely co-workers. So, in goes the laundry.

Then, I realize that the recipe I've landed on for the rolls I'm bringing to dinner tonight at our friends' house are more time-consuming than planned. Thus begins the baking. And while looking on the website for the recipe (which is amazing by the way - Pioneer Woman), I feel ambitious and decide I'm going to make these at the same time. It was a good thought. Until I made the classic mistake of beginning the mixing process before double checking that I have all the ingredients. Ran out of flour. Not good when making a batch of rolls and a batch of breakfast puffs. Good thing is, all my kitchen commotion woke my amazing husband who went to the store for me in his sweats to get more flour. I didn't have to twist his arm too much once I promised to make him a latte and showed him the photo of what was for breakfast. Thank you, husband, for letting me bake for you. So, the rolls begin, the breakfast puffs (as I like to call donut muffins) begin, and I throw all my prep dishes in the dishwasher. That's right, I have a dishwasher. A working one. How bout that!

And in the process of all this, I begin folding and putting away the laundry, realizing that while it is only 10:36, I still have a lot to do in the next 7 hours and 24 minutes before we go to dinner. All of which will be interrupted by a much needed trip to look for a couch... again. Yes, the couch-looking is a never-to-be-completed quest. There's lots to do today, but, it's the only thing I really want to do... look for a couch. That and listen to my dishwasher run.

So, that's what my Saturday has become. And, now, I've taken up just as much time explaining my busy Saturday as it would have taken to write something inspirational. Sorry, this will have to suffice as inspiration. And please don't get confused - this busyness was by choice. I realize that I am inducing self-inflicted work. No big deal. It's life, right?

That thing called the Olympics.

Every two years there's this thing called the Olympics that countries first compete to host and then compete to win. And every two years I watch this thing called the Olympics in mass quantities. I think the television and news-webpages consume me more during when these thing called the Olympics are on than total for the rest of the year. What a waste of time. And, it's not always necessarily my decision to watch the sports or not - that is partially credited to my lovely husband. Any Olympic sport, you name it, I've watched it. And let me tell you, I've learned a lot of new things.

For example:

A. Curling. Who came up with this sport, or should I say hobby? Ok. seriously. curling? Curling. According to the dictionary curling is:
Main Entry: curl·ing
Pronunciation: \ˈkər-liŋ\
Function: noun
Date: 1620
: a game in which two teams of four players each slide curling stones over a stretch of ice toward a target circle
Simple enough, I guess. I watched it for the first time two nights ago and I found myself saying repeatedly "What the heck?" I'm sure that it is much more difficult than appearance lets on, but still. It's weird. Brushing ice with a broom is weird. Hearing "CLEAN! CLEAN" yelled in twenty different languages is also weird.

B. Ice Dancing. No longer ice skating, but ballroom dancing on ice. WELL oookay... It's actually pretty impressive. I will secretly admit that I enjoy watching ice skating, especially pairs. But don't tell anyone.

C. Nordic racing. Wow. These people get going really fast. It's incredible how they zoom down a hill at like 90 miles an hour. Is it bad that my favorite part is watching people face gnarly crashes? Ouch. These people are studs. I wish I was a nordic skier. Too bad chairlifts and me don't get along. That's a historical story for another entry.

D. Speed skating. I put on my leggings and underarmor and said to Mac, "hey, look, I'm Apolo Ohno!" Disregarding the aerodynamic spandex suits, and the fact that they go round and round on the track with what seems to be zero effort, the last 2-4 seconds of these races is actually kind of exciting. Why do I watch 4 hours of television a night for literally 4 seconds of excitement? Apolo Ohno is awesome.

E. I almost forgot - hockey. I love hockey. I didn't use to, but then I watched Olympic hockey and it's much more exciting... there's more strategy, more goals, and more passionate victories. My kind of game.

This is a cop-out first entry in 4 months. I'm trying to ease myself back into the writing nonsense that I use to do so regularly. Hope you enjoyed it.