I walked along the main drag near my home today with my 10 month old son and nearly 3 year old daughter in tow. We were in search of joyous things for a 3 year old boy's birthday. Balloons, toys, etc. We walked to a flower shop that sells balloons but they were out for delivery so we went to a home consignment shop near by, looked around, and came back. On the way I noticed an old grandfatherly man sitting on a bench outside the store, very weathered looking and likely homeless. I tried to say hi half-heartedly but he didn't seem to hear. I kept going on, feeling uncomfortable at the proof of poverty this man showed me by his very presence. A stab into my comfortable world. As we turned around from the flower shop again realizing they weren't open I talked to my 2 year old daughter of going to the children's consignment shop about 2 blocks away to find a toy instead of a balloon. She agreed and we walked by the old man slowly again as one does with a child, I hesitated thinking to maybe offer to help him somehow as I saw that he was now trying to stand but it looked like he wasn't going to be successful at it. He had a cane and two band aids on his legs and he wobbled slightly as he tried to gain enough balance to fully stand. My mind argued with my heart and I reasoned that I couldn't do anything practical to help him. Even if I helped him walk where would he go? I couldn't do that, I thought to myself. Not with two little ones, and maybe he wouldn't even want my help....so onward we went and I turned back to see him sitting on the bench again and I felt that my decision was okay.
Nearly 30 minutes passed as we went in search of treasures to get and give at the children's consignment shop. I found some delightful presents for two birthday babes and felt that our excursion had been successful. Soon we were on the road again and I thought it would be a good idea to go back past the flower shop again just in case they were there now. How fun it would be to give a balloon! As we crossed the street I saw an ambulance and a policeman and an EMT standing by the bench where the old man had been sitting. My heart dropped. Oh my God, what happened? I said nothing but hurried toward to scene thinking how foolish I had been to not even offer my help in the least. Was I heartless? What could have happened to this man? Did he fall? Did he have a stroke? Was he dead? I'll bet he was a veteran as well as homeless and I felt hesitant to help him even more so because he was wearing patriotic clothing and I call myself a pacifist. How sick is my heart! I asked the two helpers standing there, feeling foolish but desperate, "What happened here?!" They pretended not to hear me (I think) so I asked again, frantically, "What happened?" The police officer turned to face me and said, "Oh, someone was just not feeling good and so we came out." The most simple, non-offensive answer he could muster to save face for the children I suppose. Someone was not feeling good, so we came out. I don't know what I thought then except I was sure now it was the old grandfatherly man. It must have been and I thought about him struggling to live inside the ambulance.
Every day there are forgotten people on the street. I can walk past them at the library or walk past the mental health institution for some of these forgotten people who "live" there as well and sometimes roam our area. It is so easy to go on "forgetting" them - even when it looks obvious that they need help of some sort. What can I do? I have children, I'm looking after them, I can think and I can reason and I can justify my ignoring and forgetting about the people who are like children and yet not, people who are not desirable to love, people who have weathered countless storms who are most likely responsible for some of them and many of them simply because the world is broken and still they are in need and that need is not going away just because I chose not to see it. I can make myself more uncomfortable, I can be like Jesus and show them my face and not turn away like I did today. I don't know how things would have been different but I'm betting God's Kingdom would be ushered in somehow. For now, this tragedy is unearthing the hardness of my heart and at least a little Kingdom work is being done. Please make my heart soft soil, King of all creation, King of all people whose salvation is for everybody, not just some. King of all creation whose salvation is for now, not later at a more convenient time.
Thursday, June 29, 2017
Monday, September 19, 2016
Ode to a 2 year old
2 year old Miriam...I want to remember...
Your crazy uneven hair that swoops just down your neck over your back in sweet waves - kind of like a punky 80's mullet but much cuter and prettier.
Your vivacious energy! Just pick a word and repeat, again and again and again. Echo, gecko, bravo (I sense a theme here). Wait...then there's peacock, hmm...
Your sweet cheesy smiles where you tilt your head back.
Your going around and around and around the room (again).
Your pushing the walker wagon while wearing the patriotic butterfly wings we found in our neighbor's castoffs.
Your love for books, especially Go Dog Go; Rosie Revere, Engineer, any space related book Daddy can read to you.
Your sweet kisses...sometimes coming when I least expect them.
Your dancing to music I play on my ukulele or from the computer, especially All Around the Kitchen.
You're my first little Love. I cannot let you go and I'm feeling it pretty hard to know that I have been and will continue to do so in necessity of caring for Peter as well as seeing you become more independent. God holds you in his hand, my darling.
Your crazy uneven hair that swoops just down your neck over your back in sweet waves - kind of like a punky 80's mullet but much cuter and prettier.
Your vivacious energy! Just pick a word and repeat, again and again and again. Echo, gecko, bravo (I sense a theme here). Wait...then there's peacock, hmm...
Your sweet cheesy smiles where you tilt your head back.
Your going around and around and around the room (again).
Your pushing the walker wagon while wearing the patriotic butterfly wings we found in our neighbor's castoffs.
Your love for books, especially Go Dog Go; Rosie Revere, Engineer, any space related book Daddy can read to you.
Your sweet kisses...sometimes coming when I least expect them.
Your dancing to music I play on my ukulele or from the computer, especially All Around the Kitchen.
You're my first little Love. I cannot let you go and I'm feeling it pretty hard to know that I have been and will continue to do so in necessity of caring for Peter as well as seeing you become more independent. God holds you in his hand, my darling.
Saturday, September 17, 2016
A Mother Blessing
Oh my goodness, it's been almost a year since I've posted. Well, that's okay, that's why I'm doing it now.
I gave birth to my second about a month ago (August 10th), a beautiful boy named Peter Galileo. I am already proud of him. Well, as it happens I now have a 2 year old as well. I love Miriam J. dearly but she is also a lot of work and as I type this it comes off of a day where I felt in a half-fog even as I celebrated my beloved child's life. All that to say, it's been too long. Before Peter G. was born (a story I will write soon), I took a tiny holiday to have lunch by myself and pray and play music. I felt God telling me that there is more to me than motherhood. Although this season in my life is deep in the trenches of mothering I felt God remind me that I need to nourish my creativity as well. I am made to be an artist and cultivating that is crucial. Incidentally, I wrote to my good friend from Minneapolis (now transported to Canada) a mother blessing. It was something I had not done intentionally for a while and I want to share it here to begin the unearthing of a love for invention.
I gave birth to my second about a month ago (August 10th), a beautiful boy named Peter Galileo. I am already proud of him. Well, as it happens I now have a 2 year old as well. I love Miriam J. dearly but she is also a lot of work and as I type this it comes off of a day where I felt in a half-fog even as I celebrated my beloved child's life. All that to say, it's been too long. Before Peter G. was born (a story I will write soon), I took a tiny holiday to have lunch by myself and pray and play music. I felt God telling me that there is more to me than motherhood. Although this season in my life is deep in the trenches of mothering I felt God remind me that I need to nourish my creativity as well. I am made to be an artist and cultivating that is crucial. Incidentally, I wrote to my good friend from Minneapolis (now transported to Canada) a mother blessing. It was something I had not done intentionally for a while and I want to share it here to begin the unearthing of a love for invention.
Hello dear Christen,
I know this might be longer than something you'd read, but I just wrote my heart out to you, so here goes:
When I first heard you were going to be a mama I was stoked for you and saddened by your loss not long after. The second time I heard, my excitement was deepened with experience and I thought of all the beautiful qualities you have - gentleness, kindness, compassion and passion, creativity, a sweet and nurturing heart, a love of justice and being seeker of truth, and a simple humility that takes life in and desires to be taught by all you can. You, as well as Phil, have so much to give a little one. I say these things to affirm you and to give you encouragement as you begin this profound journey in the coming first days of your little person's life.
When my daughter was born I had no idea how great a sacrifice it would be, so I will just say this: this, this birthing a child and then all that comes with it, is going to be the hardest thing you've done (as least for me at has been). Yet, no matter how demanding raising a child (especially an infant) can be, God has provided for us! He gives us grace in His Spirit and in each other. I see that he has given you a community already to help in this immense task so don't be afraid to ask for help in tangible and intangible ways. You will assuredly find yourself at the end of yourself from lack of sleep or just lack of time to just be. It's supposed to be that way because we all need each other and we need the Holy Spirit to give us the strength and wisdom and sustain us. You will love your baby but as in a marriage that love will be something that is only given at times by Grace. In my experience, as your child grows your awe and love for them will only blossom more. You will find in beautiful, everyday moments that there is really nothing more delightful than watching your child become the person they are created to be.
I'm coming to the end of my own pregnancy and also getting ready to welcome another human being into this great big world and so my reflection to you is a reflection to myself as well. I anticipate with you and pray with you for vision, for health, and for a deep gratitude within all the chaos that is to come. I love you and my heart leaps and baby belly leaps (like Elizabeth and Mary) as I think on the tiny one you will get to meet face to face so very soon!
I love you!
Kimberly
Saturday, November 14, 2015
Truth is better than fiction
I'm going to try not to grumble/ramble but I have been astonished in the last day to overhear some mothers I know complain about their children facing reality. I don't mean reality like they all of a sudden were in a war zone, I mean reality like one child was made fun of at school, another child stopped believing in fairies. What is it about American culture (or Virginian culture?) that makes people want their children to be so sheltered? Do we really think children are so feeble minded that they need to live in a dream world? It irks me. How can we hear about what happened in France with the terrorist attacks and then worry about our 6th grader being made fun of? Okay, so I know I'm not being very sympathetic and what is big to one person is different depending on the situation. However, it's discouraging to me to see people cling to their cotton-candy versions of reality for their children instead of realizing that reality is sometimes harsh/and/or not fairyland but it is also the difficulty of reality that develops true character and the real world is also just as wondrous as any fairy tale story that we could tell our children.
Sadly, I think this desire to shelter/hide our children from hard things/and/or truth is a symptom of the sick sentimentality of our culture that is worshiped. We want our "american dream" so to speak. We want to pretend that "we make our own reality" which is far from actuality. There are always going to be terrible things that happen. There are going to be people that challenge us (and perhaps they are wrong but it could also be that they are right at times). I am far from being cynical but please, please bring me truth or the harshness of the world over an illusion of safety and fun. I want my daughter to see that there is so much value in embracing the world as it is and because of our hope in Christ we are also catalysts for change in the harsh, dire circumstances by our prayers and our actions. We are called to care for the least of these and even love our enemy. We are called not to make ourselves "god" but submit to God and humble ourselves to let every hardship refine us. What is "hard" is not bad. Sometimes what is "easy" is actually the killer of our souls making us feel like we are god and in control. God also made a world that is exceedingly wondrous and beautiful even terrifying (but this makes us realize how small we are in comparison). It is appropriate to be a little frightened but also in awe in a way that makes us go to the One who made it all and us for refuge.
Sadly, I think this desire to shelter/hide our children from hard things/and/or truth is a symptom of the sick sentimentality of our culture that is worshiped. We want our "american dream" so to speak. We want to pretend that "we make our own reality" which is far from actuality. There are always going to be terrible things that happen. There are going to be people that challenge us (and perhaps they are wrong but it could also be that they are right at times). I am far from being cynical but please, please bring me truth or the harshness of the world over an illusion of safety and fun. I want my daughter to see that there is so much value in embracing the world as it is and because of our hope in Christ we are also catalysts for change in the harsh, dire circumstances by our prayers and our actions. We are called to care for the least of these and even love our enemy. We are called not to make ourselves "god" but submit to God and humble ourselves to let every hardship refine us. What is "hard" is not bad. Sometimes what is "easy" is actually the killer of our souls making us feel like we are god and in control. God also made a world that is exceedingly wondrous and beautiful even terrifying (but this makes us realize how small we are in comparison). It is appropriate to be a little frightened but also in awe in a way that makes us go to the One who made it all and us for refuge.
Friday, June 5, 2015
Everyone is a Beggar
"Give to everyone who asks of you, and whoever takes away what is yours, do not demand it back. Treat others the same way you want [e]them to treat you. If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. If you lend to those from whom you expect to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners in order to receive back the same amount."
-Luke 6:30-34
I've been asking God where to go lately. He's been directing me. That's been awesome. However, I don't always listen. Nor do I always obey even when I say I will. Yeah, I am a sinner too.
Here's a story/rant about beggars.
I mentioned there are quite a few homeless/down and out people that live near by the (mostly) middle class and upper class neighborhood we live in. They go walking on the main streets and ask people for money sometimes. It's happened to me a few times and the last few days I've felt like God wants me to give someone "down and out" $20 I have burning a hole in my wallet. I missed one such prompting and said I'd listen the next time. Here's what happened.
I felt led to go to this super cute vintage/antique store just a couple of blocks from us. I walked around the block to get there and went inside. They had moved things in the store since last I'd been in and the displays were absolutely gorgeous and whimsical. Everywhere I looked was eye-candy and interesting thing after interesting thing. I wanted about half a dozen things in the store and even tried on a vintage dress. I thought of the "practical" things I could purchase as well but I could tell Miriam was getting tired and then she screamed a little (I think she's possibly getting a tooth now!) and so I decided we had better go.
As I walked out the door two people, a man and a woman, who appeared to be homeless, walked behind me. As we neared the light the woman asked me if I had some spare change. The light was changing so I said if they followed me across the intersection I'd give them some. As soon as we got across I rifled through my purse, took out my wallet, and gave them all the change in the pocket. I thought though: give them $20, but they had only asked for change, I countered. I asked them, "What do you need?" The woman told me they needed food and intended to buy some fried chicken in a bag that they could get for $2 somewhere. I thought, okay, so see they don't even need that much. Also, the man had said "You're a Christian, right?" and I responded, "Yes I am" kind of sheepishly as the prompt of giving more was still there and I was not obeying it. Then another man who was smoking a cigarette came by asking them about a bus route and before I could think further I decided to leave to avoid the smoke (mostly for Miriam) and said, "Bless you" as they thanked me. BUT here's the thing: I'm a hypocrite.
So, yeah, I gave them some money. BUT I felt like I should have given more. Would they have used if for food? I don't know for sure. Maybe they would have used it for cigarettes or alcohol or drugs even. I just don't know. But what would I have used it for? To buy another "thing." To purchase some temporary "happiness" and try to fill the void that is only filled by God. To justify my addiction to materialism comparing myself to others who are MORE indulgent than me and buy not just some "useful things" but overpriced designer clothing or fancy trinket or the like. Yeah, so I'm not as bad as that person. At least I gave them some change. Right? Right. Except that's not what God was really asking me to do. Except while they may not have used the money in the "best" way I would not have either and my "perceived needs" are all really wants anyway. You may disagree but I have a feeling that 9 times of of 10 I bet they'd use the money far more usefully to themselves overall.
In our society, just because someone has money it's often assumed that they "deserve" it. Just because I happen to be "middle class" now it's assumed that I did something or that my worth as a person is greater and I'm entitled to it. This is simply wrong. Perhaps because I have been on the lower end of the earning scale I can see that better. Perhaps because I don't "earn" money now and my work is being a stay-at-home mama and wife I don't feel I deserve it. Regardless, I think it's a misconception that someone with money "deserves" it. My "wants" do not discredit a street person's needs. My "wants" are not even better than their "wants" either. We're all beggars when it comes down to it. Everything that was given to me, in the end, is from God's grace. Jesus gave to me so I could give to others. I am blessed to be a blessing. It occurred to me, actually, that Jesus probably wants me to give my money just so I can see my spiritual poverty just as much to show them his Grace. That in itself is humbling. So, pray for me, to not just be an orator telling this story but actually obey next time. Thank you.
-Luke 6:30-34
I've been asking God where to go lately. He's been directing me. That's been awesome. However, I don't always listen. Nor do I always obey even when I say I will. Yeah, I am a sinner too.
Here's a story/rant about beggars.
I mentioned there are quite a few homeless/down and out people that live near by the (mostly) middle class and upper class neighborhood we live in. They go walking on the main streets and ask people for money sometimes. It's happened to me a few times and the last few days I've felt like God wants me to give someone "down and out" $20 I have burning a hole in my wallet. I missed one such prompting and said I'd listen the next time. Here's what happened.
I felt led to go to this super cute vintage/antique store just a couple of blocks from us. I walked around the block to get there and went inside. They had moved things in the store since last I'd been in and the displays were absolutely gorgeous and whimsical. Everywhere I looked was eye-candy and interesting thing after interesting thing. I wanted about half a dozen things in the store and even tried on a vintage dress. I thought of the "practical" things I could purchase as well but I could tell Miriam was getting tired and then she screamed a little (I think she's possibly getting a tooth now!) and so I decided we had better go.
As I walked out the door two people, a man and a woman, who appeared to be homeless, walked behind me. As we neared the light the woman asked me if I had some spare change. The light was changing so I said if they followed me across the intersection I'd give them some. As soon as we got across I rifled through my purse, took out my wallet, and gave them all the change in the pocket. I thought though: give them $20, but they had only asked for change, I countered. I asked them, "What do you need?" The woman told me they needed food and intended to buy some fried chicken in a bag that they could get for $2 somewhere. I thought, okay, so see they don't even need that much. Also, the man had said "You're a Christian, right?" and I responded, "Yes I am" kind of sheepishly as the prompt of giving more was still there and I was not obeying it. Then another man who was smoking a cigarette came by asking them about a bus route and before I could think further I decided to leave to avoid the smoke (mostly for Miriam) and said, "Bless you" as they thanked me. BUT here's the thing: I'm a hypocrite.
So, yeah, I gave them some money. BUT I felt like I should have given more. Would they have used if for food? I don't know for sure. Maybe they would have used it for cigarettes or alcohol or drugs even. I just don't know. But what would I have used it for? To buy another "thing." To purchase some temporary "happiness" and try to fill the void that is only filled by God. To justify my addiction to materialism comparing myself to others who are MORE indulgent than me and buy not just some "useful things" but overpriced designer clothing or fancy trinket or the like. Yeah, so I'm not as bad as that person. At least I gave them some change. Right? Right. Except that's not what God was really asking me to do. Except while they may not have used the money in the "best" way I would not have either and my "perceived needs" are all really wants anyway. You may disagree but I have a feeling that 9 times of of 10 I bet they'd use the money far more usefully to themselves overall.
In our society, just because someone has money it's often assumed that they "deserve" it. Just because I happen to be "middle class" now it's assumed that I did something or that my worth as a person is greater and I'm entitled to it. This is simply wrong. Perhaps because I have been on the lower end of the earning scale I can see that better. Perhaps because I don't "earn" money now and my work is being a stay-at-home mama and wife I don't feel I deserve it. Regardless, I think it's a misconception that someone with money "deserves" it. My "wants" do not discredit a street person's needs. My "wants" are not even better than their "wants" either. We're all beggars when it comes down to it. Everything that was given to me, in the end, is from God's grace. Jesus gave to me so I could give to others. I am blessed to be a blessing. It occurred to me, actually, that Jesus probably wants me to give my money just so I can see my spiritual poverty just as much to show them his Grace. That in itself is humbling. So, pray for me, to not just be an orator telling this story but actually obey next time. Thank you.
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
Holy Mischief
Time rolls on like a river. I have not posted lacking inspiration and somewhat lacking time. I love being a mama. I'm convinced it is one of the most fantastic joys one can experience. There is such delight in seeing your child grow and seeing her become more and more the little person that she was created to be. I only want to aid in this formation and by the grace of the Holy Spirit that's what I'm trying for every day.
Yet, sometimes my life feels mundane. Sometimes I even feel like cliche and I'm reaching for something more. We are slowly meeting some like-minded folks but have mostly connected with some people we wouldn't have thought to be friends with back home (which has it's merits as well). I live in a city now that I would never choose to live in apart from the great job my husband has here. We live in the *best* part of the city as far as I know. It's a bit like a small town and it has it's charms and character of some of the older architecture, a handful of indie businesses down the "Hilton" strip and traditions long held by the tight knit community inside of it. It is like a Norman Rockwell painting brought to life in a lot of ways.
Of course, there are the darker, sadder sides of things here including a homeless population that seems to wander through often. There also seems to be an overall lust for the "new" and "convenient" (at least in the wider city) which leaves blight of disheveled mom and pop businesses in it's wake. I can find myself feeling sorry for myself even though even though I truly love so much of my life and I am thankful for my family (Chris and Miriam) especially. I am thankful to be able to watch little Miri grow as well. Yet, I need to see that my purpose goes beyond the immediate. I need to know that there is something for me in this city itself and not shut myself off from the uncomfortable injustices that exist. I need to be enabled to do some "holy mischief" in the words of Shane Claiborne. Holy Mischief being a challenge to the status quo, a way to brighten and illuminate, a dare to be different in the way God calls us to be different - set apart so others might see his Holiness.
So yesterday I set out to do something I had meaning to do for months. I had painted a few signs with scriptures that I felt might speak to someone out on the street or someone just taking a walk, "The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love." -Galatians 5:6 "Act justly, love mercy and walk humbly with your Creator." -Micah 6:8, and one more "You are loved and worthy of love" (taken from an incredible story my high school friend told) -- see here --http://www.differentkindoflife.com/birthday/
I went out with Miriam in her stroller and hammered the signs up to a couple of telephone polls (I actually forgot the "You are loved and worthy of love" one but I intend to put that out another day). I felt so alive because I was able to do something like that. Miriam even seemed to like it. ;-) I hope that the signs speak to people in real ways. I hope it's a day brightener or a challenge to someone. I actually put one near a tavern. Ha. We will see.
I've decided that I want to make my life one that is full of this kind of Holy Mischief. I don't want to get comfortable and cozy with what's typical. I want to let my imagination go wild with God, the Creator, and by his help, bring them about. So far for me that means making those signs, greeting and engaging homeless people and speaking as the Spirit leads, and putting a "free box" in our front yard with clothes we don't need (when it's not rainy). I want to do more and see more of God's Kingdom come. Here, now, on earth as it is in Heaven. We are his children, are we not?
More Holy Mischief is to be had.
Yet, sometimes my life feels mundane. Sometimes I even feel like cliche and I'm reaching for something more. We are slowly meeting some like-minded folks but have mostly connected with some people we wouldn't have thought to be friends with back home (which has it's merits as well). I live in a city now that I would never choose to live in apart from the great job my husband has here. We live in the *best* part of the city as far as I know. It's a bit like a small town and it has it's charms and character of some of the older architecture, a handful of indie businesses down the "Hilton" strip and traditions long held by the tight knit community inside of it. It is like a Norman Rockwell painting brought to life in a lot of ways.
Of course, there are the darker, sadder sides of things here including a homeless population that seems to wander through often. There also seems to be an overall lust for the "new" and "convenient" (at least in the wider city) which leaves blight of disheveled mom and pop businesses in it's wake. I can find myself feeling sorry for myself even though even though I truly love so much of my life and I am thankful for my family (Chris and Miriam) especially. I am thankful to be able to watch little Miri grow as well. Yet, I need to see that my purpose goes beyond the immediate. I need to know that there is something for me in this city itself and not shut myself off from the uncomfortable injustices that exist. I need to be enabled to do some "holy mischief" in the words of Shane Claiborne. Holy Mischief being a challenge to the status quo, a way to brighten and illuminate, a dare to be different in the way God calls us to be different - set apart so others might see his Holiness.
So yesterday I set out to do something I had meaning to do for months. I had painted a few signs with scriptures that I felt might speak to someone out on the street or someone just taking a walk, "The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love." -Galatians 5:6 "Act justly, love mercy and walk humbly with your Creator." -Micah 6:8, and one more "You are loved and worthy of love" (taken from an incredible story my high school friend told) -- see here --http://www.differentkindoflife.com/birthday/
I went out with Miriam in her stroller and hammered the signs up to a couple of telephone polls (I actually forgot the "You are loved and worthy of love" one but I intend to put that out another day). I felt so alive because I was able to do something like that. Miriam even seemed to like it. ;-) I hope that the signs speak to people in real ways. I hope it's a day brightener or a challenge to someone. I actually put one near a tavern. Ha. We will see.
I've decided that I want to make my life one that is full of this kind of Holy Mischief. I don't want to get comfortable and cozy with what's typical. I want to let my imagination go wild with God, the Creator, and by his help, bring them about. So far for me that means making those signs, greeting and engaging homeless people and speaking as the Spirit leads, and putting a "free box" in our front yard with clothes we don't need (when it's not rainy). I want to do more and see more of God's Kingdom come. Here, now, on earth as it is in Heaven. We are his children, are we not?
More Holy Mischief is to be had.
Friday, January 16, 2015
2015, what what!
Alright, so on with 2015 - I know I am a little late to post something about this but hey, I have a 4 month old baby, okay? ;-)
Last year was epic and marvelous in so many ways. So many changes, for the better mostly. Moving to Virginia at the end of Spring, Chris' super job, Miriam Jubilee coming into the world and knocking our socks off (my favorite change!). I will always miss Minnesota and our friends there (and family too) but such is life. I would be lying, however, to not say how I do deeply miss them and have felt it quite a lot lately.
Virginia is a good place to live all in all. It's just not the same as Minnesota. My winter here is bearable but in a kind of November way. It's actually green (I know, weird!) but it's kind of Novembery weather as in it's cold outside just enough most of the time that you don't want to be out (well, it makes it tricky with a young baby anyway). Also, there is no snow. I never realized how beautiful and peaceful snow makes everything look. It's just cold (well, at least cold for someone whose body has become acclaimated to warmer weather - if I came here from Minnesota January I'd say this is a heat wave, but anyhow).
So, I was originally going to post about my New Year's "resolutions" of sorts. I don't know if they really are resolutions but I want to change the way I live so I guess you'd call it that. One big thing is that I feel God calling me to more faith - not faith as in let's see people get healed and raise the dead type miracle faith - faith as in just fully trusting that God knows what he's doing with me - faith that sees past my husband's and other close friends/family's shortcomings and my limitations in time, resources and geography and sees what IS there and what CAN BE there as God works and I believe. I need to have the kind of faith that hushes the humdrum and hangups and knows Jesus walking among us. Even if I'm not healing the sick or raising the dead for God I want to believe God is with me and not stifle his Spirit in my everyday life - I want to be open to whatever adventure, however ordinary.
Along with that kind of everyday faith I need to change the way I talk. I don't mean that I need to take on a southern accent, heeheh, but I need to think before I speak as much as possible and not let my tongue steer my ship like a small rudder crashing the ship into the shore. Most people don't realize that I can have a poisonous tongue and be careless with my words but I certainly can. I do this much more than I care to admit and I want to speak life and grace and truth in all circumstances instead. I want to be speaking as if speaking the very words of God (If anyone speaks, they should do so as one who speaks the very words of God. If anyone serves, they should do so with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To him be the glory and the power for ever and ever. Amen 1 Peter 4:11). Does that mean I can never criticize? No, but I need to be very careful in doing so and pray about what words I say before I say them. More often, I want to encourage and affirm what I can than bring a critical word that is probably going to be unhelpful. It's very humbling for me to say this because I like to look good to others, but I know I need to change. Lord, help me. Help me trust and speak your truth in grace and love. Sustain me in all circumstances to live life in a resurrected and redeemed reality not based on what I see alone.
Last year was epic and marvelous in so many ways. So many changes, for the better mostly. Moving to Virginia at the end of Spring, Chris' super job, Miriam Jubilee coming into the world and knocking our socks off (my favorite change!). I will always miss Minnesota and our friends there (and family too) but such is life. I would be lying, however, to not say how I do deeply miss them and have felt it quite a lot lately.
Virginia is a good place to live all in all. It's just not the same as Minnesota. My winter here is bearable but in a kind of November way. It's actually green (I know, weird!) but it's kind of Novembery weather as in it's cold outside just enough most of the time that you don't want to be out (well, it makes it tricky with a young baby anyway). Also, there is no snow. I never realized how beautiful and peaceful snow makes everything look. It's just cold (well, at least cold for someone whose body has become acclaimated to warmer weather - if I came here from Minnesota January I'd say this is a heat wave, but anyhow).
So, I was originally going to post about my New Year's "resolutions" of sorts. I don't know if they really are resolutions but I want to change the way I live so I guess you'd call it that. One big thing is that I feel God calling me to more faith - not faith as in let's see people get healed and raise the dead type miracle faith - faith as in just fully trusting that God knows what he's doing with me - faith that sees past my husband's and other close friends/family's shortcomings and my limitations in time, resources and geography and sees what IS there and what CAN BE there as God works and I believe. I need to have the kind of faith that hushes the humdrum and hangups and knows Jesus walking among us. Even if I'm not healing the sick or raising the dead for God I want to believe God is with me and not stifle his Spirit in my everyday life - I want to be open to whatever adventure, however ordinary.
Along with that kind of everyday faith I need to change the way I talk. I don't mean that I need to take on a southern accent, heeheh, but I need to think before I speak as much as possible and not let my tongue steer my ship like a small rudder crashing the ship into the shore. Most people don't realize that I can have a poisonous tongue and be careless with my words but I certainly can. I do this much more than I care to admit and I want to speak life and grace and truth in all circumstances instead. I want to be speaking as if speaking the very words of God (If anyone speaks, they should do so as one who speaks the very words of God. If anyone serves, they should do so with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To him be the glory and the power for ever and ever. Amen 1 Peter 4:11). Does that mean I can never criticize? No, but I need to be very careful in doing so and pray about what words I say before I say them. More often, I want to encourage and affirm what I can than bring a critical word that is probably going to be unhelpful. It's very humbling for me to say this because I like to look good to others, but I know I need to change. Lord, help me. Help me trust and speak your truth in grace and love. Sustain me in all circumstances to live life in a resurrected and redeemed reality not based on what I see alone.
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