low light & loud music

One sits at the kitchen table, computer open, listening, watching, homeworking.

Another lays face down on the floor, listening.

And the last sits on the couch, legs stretched out, alternating between singing along with the music and completing an assignment.

The lights are low and the music is loud.

"I love this," one says.

The other two nod in assent.

"I needed this," another one says.

The other two murmur agreement.

"I love you both," the other one says.

"I love you both, too," the other two reply from their respective places on floor and couch.

Each exactly where she is this evening, physically, mentally, spiritually.

Safe.

Home.

hold me

Tonight the longing for Home is thick, catching in my throat as I try to swallow.

Tears well up suddenly, and I am caught off guard.

Tonight I feel the fragility of this life. Tonight I feel His hand around my heart, causing each and every beat.

As air fills my lungs I taste the breath He blows into my nostrils and feel it rush down my throat.

I wonder how this skin, stretched thin over bone and muscle, does not tear. Tonight it feels so thin, barely the protective barrier it is intended to be.

And I am reminded that each beat, each breath is Yours, is by Your will.

This skin protects me because You wrap Yourself around me, because You keep me from harm.

Hold me closer.

Hold me tighter.

thankful on a thursday—unzipped

If you asked me about the past three years I would tell you about pain, process, healing and redemption. I would show you my kitchen table, and the two chairs that sit there. I would tell you about gut wrenching sobs, tears spilling onto my lap, cheeks that burned with shame and embarrassment, and the exhaustion that would set in night after night. I would tell you about my roommate, a woman with more patience and the incredible gift of walking alongside you RIGHT, EXACTLY where you are without fear or judgment. I would tell you about anger, fear, resentment and jealousy. I would unzip the center of my chest and show you the scars on my heart.

This one is from June 2009. It took all of June some of July, to heal. If you look closely you can see it's really a series of smaller scars that melded into one.

This one was from a night in October. It was a old wound that had to be reopened so it could heal properly. It took me so long to admit that it needed to heal differently.

This one that seems as though it should have severed my heart in two? That's an old one, that's a daddy one. I think at one time my heart may have actually been in two separate pieces, but it is back together now, and beating stronger than ever.

I would tell you about healing. I would tell you the freedom of collapsing on the floor in tears crying out to Jesus, knowing that there is NOTHING in this life that I need more than I need Him. I would tell you about nights when tears were cried in joy and celebration. I would tell you about the lightness and laughter after the healing power of the Holy Spirit washed over me. I would tell you about the time in the shower I couldn't stop laughing because of the joke God told me.

I would tell you that these last three years have been some of the most painful, most challenging, most beautiful, most incredible years of my life. I would tell you that I have never felt more like myself and that I have never loved myself more. Not because I am better, but because I am broken and made new. I would zip myself up, look you in the eye and say, "I'm so thankful I don't have to hide these scars from you."

I am so thankful...

1. Brokenness and the way He enters into every corner of it, shining His healing light and love.
2. Friendships forged in times of trial.
3. Snow, even if only for the morning.
4. Snowboarding for the first time in THREE YEARS.
5. First rail slides and my incredible cheerleader, The Mustachioed Woodsman, who high fived me each time I did one.
6. A snowy weekend away with the youth group leaders in Glenwood.
7. All day at the cabin with just The Mustachioed Woodsman, his dog and me.
8. A new friendship full of love, joy and truth.
9. The process of making pie crust.
10. Laughter.
11. An outdoor fireplace and a cup of french press.
12. The same God who placed the stars in the heavens knows MY name, and knows exactly how to love me, and LOVES me.

thankful on a thursday—people

A father daughter date. That's what it was. We sat across from each other at a little cafe, my latte warming my hands, his green tea still too hot to drink. "I feel like I'm in a rut," I say, "like I've gotten into this routine and I don't know how to get out. It's comfortable and safe, but what I want is adventure." It is freeing to say these words. It is healing to confess them to him, to one of the fathers I've been blessed with, to have him listen, to have him offer words of kind intention. "What about teaching English somewhere?" He asks, "you said you'd always wanted to see Japan."

I consider his words, consider uprooting myself from this place–from these people, and it hurts. "I don't think moving is the answer," I reply. "It would feel like running, and there is nothing here I want to run from."

Weeks later I am on the phone with a friend, recounting this conversation to her. "You can run or you can dig in," she says, "those are the two ways to get out of a rut." Her words are true, and they confirm the direction I have chosen to go. Not that it was a hard decision.

I choose to stay. I choose to dig in. I choose to invest in the people, in the relationships that seem to multiply weekly. How did I get here? How am I suddenly surrounded by so many incredible people? Though if I consider consider the road I've walked, these people have not appeared so suddenly. Looking back I see how many different intersections I've crossed, the ways our paths have joined and continued on in the same direction. I wonder if this is how Paul felt when he would sit down to write his letters to the churches, thanking God for them and for their faithfulness. What a gift it is to be surrounded by these people, to love and be loved by these people, to serve with these people, to simply encounter them, even if only briefly.

This week, I am so very thankful...

1. For the high school leaders and the way they love the students.
2. For the high school students, for their beautiful hearts and the ways they struggle to love and serve the Lord.
3. For friends, new and old.
4. For a run with Sarah around a beautiful lake, and for all the conversations we had.
5. For an upcoming visit to see my Dad.
6. For how different my relationship with my Dad is only a year later.
7. For all the different fathers my Father has blessed me with.
8. For a place to share my stories and my mess.
9. For getting a card in the mail from Kath.
10. For the most wonderful weekend with Erica, and all the subsequent phone calls, emails and texts.
11. For the way he holds my hand.

greasy hair

I've got bags to unpack, greasy hair that needs to be washed (tomorrow, before work, I SWEAR), and dinner dishes that need doing. After a long weekend in the winter wonderland of Glenwood, Washington these are the LAST things I want to do. I want to sit on my couch and stare at the lights on my Christmas tree as I remember snuggling with my sisters and laughing with family over silly things that only families laugh at. I want to sip a cup of hot cocoa, curl up under a blanket, stay up too late and have it be okay because I'm still on vacation.

Real life starts tomorrow. But this long weekend of Christmas, of slowing down and remembering what this life is all about, has me thinking about how to do life a little differently. I'm thinking about finding making time for things that make my heart glow and my feet seem to hover a few inches off the ground.

First step: dishes in the sink.

Second step: make hot cocoa.

Third step: pjs and knitting.

fabulous friday video goodness—you walk in with me, you walk out with me

I always find little gems when Nicole posts her Honor Roll [a.k.a. the things she finds on the interwebz that she just has to share]. Today is no exception. There was a video she linked to that's from NPR's Story Corps, and it was so lovely. It is part "When Harry Met Sally", part deep longings of my heart, and part "Ren & Stimpy". Before you watch it you might want to grab some kleenex.

Danny & Annie from StoryCorps on Vimeo.

a weekend away

This weekend I am going away. I will leave work on Friday, stopping by Extracto for an iced late and A Close Knit for a new set of knitting needles (square and metal and divine), before heading out along Marine Drive. Upon arriving in Glenwood, Washington I will lug my laundry, my rolling pin, my knitting, a bag of groceries and several books inside.

There are a few things on my to do list for the weekend, and I am looking forward to each of them. A weekend away with a to do list? Yeah, but check out this list:

• Laundry [that doesn't cost $1.25 per load]
• Make shaved asparagus pizza
• Knit
• Run 12 miles [with a running partner and without being chased by dogs...or cougars]
• Bake chocolate pudding pie
• Watch a movie...or two

thankful on a thursday—all over the place

Today I feel all over the place. Almost every item on my to do list is only partially completed [except for planning my outfit for tonight, that I finished around midnight last night]. As soon as I start something I am distracted by some other thing, partially done, sitting on my desk asking me, "but what about me? Aren't you going to finish me?"

Perhaps it's because there really is too much to do. Maybe it's the Stumptown latte coursing through my veins. More likely it's trying to do everything all at once.

In the midst of the excitement of seeing a dear friend, attending what is sure to be an EPIC Lady Gaga concert, getting back into the groove of normal life after a crazy July followed by two weeks of vacation, and processing what it means to trust, believe, and accept God's unconditional love, I find myself—my feelings, thoughts, and life—all over the place.

That's what I love about Thankful on a Thursday. I get to pause and focus. Even if the things I'm thankful for are totally random and disconnected, this exercise in intentional gratitude brings them all together.

1. Seeing Lady Gaga in concert.
2. Five days with my high schoolers in Southern Oregon, hiking, rafting, and swimming.
3. All the conversations and things that took place between the hiking, rafting, and swimming.
4. Friends to run with on my long runs for the next TWO weekends.
5. Adventures and conversations with Katie on Sauvie Island.
6. Belonging to a church that lives out honesty, transparency, and grace even when it is hard.
7. A few quiet moments of gratitude and grace at His table.
8. Lounging around on familiar furniture, beds, and beaches with family.
9. Last night's voicemail from Erica Sue.
10. His love is present and true no matter what.

missing the chaos

After two weeks away from home, it was nothing short of amazing to shower in my own shower (sans flip flops), climb into my own bed, and fall fast asleep. It was incredible to wake up without an alarm and know I could just lay in my big, comfy bed without worrying about who I was supposed to wake up when or wonder if I'd be able to grab five minutes to myself to just be.

In the midst of enjoying my self-imposed solitude I noticed the quiet, the lack of laughter, the absence of birds and river water. No one was challenging anyone else to escape from a camp chair after being tied up. No one was attempting to do any sort of awesome jump off a rock into the river. No one wanted to know if they had time to go to the bathroom / shower / river / frisbee golf course before our next activity. I miss that.

I miss the chaos. I miss the laughter. I miss the silly contests. I miss driving a Suburban full of kids who are singing, dancing and air guitarring their hearts out as I drive us through the windy back roads and secluded state highways of southern Oregon. I miss seeing the stars from the window of my tent as I fall asleep, separated from the ground by a quartern inch of thermarest, wrapped up in my caterpillar green sleeping bag. I miss the joy of the water finally boiling and passing out oatmeal and french press to sleepy students and leaders. I miss the brief moments where I see this chaos for what it really is—love and grace lived out in the midst of the messy lives we live.

These kids are the best. Those five days in southern Oregon will go down as some of my favorite. While my introverted self is still a little tired, I cannot wait for Wednesday and the chance to relive even just a bit of that holy chaos that's become so dear to my heart.

thankful on a—what the heck it's friday already!?

TIME FLIES. And folks, I have so much to do before I leave for TWO WEEKS OF VACATION on Monday. Really, I shouldn't even be writing this. I should be printing out documents for Board packets and sorting through my inbox, then I have to send this massive email [which still needs some edits btw], and don't even get me started on all the qualitative data I've got to quantify. And that's just today at work. WHEW. Why isn't the coffee ready yet?

If I'm so busy, why the blog? Because you gotta pause. Because I have to pause. I have to stop, close my eyes, and take a breath. Otherwise I will go crazy. So this is my pause.

This Thursday Friday, I am thankful.

1. For an empty office so I can turn the music up and get stuff done in my own crazy way.
2. A run with a friend after work that is guaranteed to clear my head and bring me down from a ten to a two.
3. Cool mornings and warm summer evenings.
4. Homemade sushi and honesty.
5. The familiarity of home away from home.
6. Thirteen days away from the office...the last time I did that I was unemployed.
7. Getting to see Nish in person. [Squee!]
8. The beeping of the office coffee pot, it's not french press, but it's found its way into my heart.
9. A southern feast cooked for family.
10. Running eight miles when I didn't think I'd make it more than five.
11. His patience with me when I make time for everything and everyone but Him.

Much love friends. Now it's time to go kick this to list apart!

CB10: sunsets

When you look back through old photos of our yearly trips to the beach, there are always, ALWAYS pictures of the sunset. I would venture to guess that there are hundreds of pictures of the sunset, all taken from within five feet of each other. And every year we take more. Because every year the sunsets are beautiful and different from the ones, not just that previous year, but different even from the previous day's sunset. Just like those sunsets are different each year, our trip to the beach is different each year, even though each year we stay in the same house, sleep in the same beds, enjoy fires in the same fireplace, and play endless games of 10,000 and Speed Scrabble at the same table.



E I G H T E E N D A Y S

CB10: the countdown is ON

Dudes. It is almost here. What's almost here?? The BEACH. That is what is almost here. Only 19 days.

N I N E T E E N D A Y S.

the retrieval project

I love art. I love tattoos. As such, tattooing is one of my favorite forms of art. I love discovering new tattoo artists and enjoying their work, whether it be by having it permanently displayed on my body or simply by looking at their portfolios.

Today I [sort of] discovered a new tattoo artist AND purchased a print of his AND got to support an amazing cause. I say sort of discovered because I have actually semi-knowingly enjoyed his art for quite some time. He is the brother of a friend of mine and has done several of her tattoos and some of her husband's tattoos, and I have long admired his work on them.

He and his family, due to various circumstances, had to move half way across the country TWICE in six months. As a result the majority of their belongings are still living in Minnesota while they reside in California. Because money is tight and moving is expensive, they decided to get creative about the retrieval of their belongings. They started The Retrieval Project. It is a collection of their artwork, available for sale, and all of the money goes to fund their moving expenses.

As someone who has longed for home, who has lived with most of her personal belongings boxed away in another state, I can empathize with the loneliness that this situation creates. So today I bought one of the art pieces from The Retrieval Project:



It will tie in quite nicely with my Avett Brothers concert poster Dan gave me, and the red will compliment the Nikki McClure print Rebs gave me for my birthday last year. AND even more than all of that, it will help a family in need of home.

To oooh and ahhh at the artwork of The Retrieval Project, check out:
The Retrieval Project

To purchase artwork that supports The Retrieval Project, check out:
Joe's Etsy Shop
Jenny's Etsy Shop

home

I have this new home, a new house, a place into which I have recently moved.

There are still boxes to be unpacked, nooks, crannies, corners and closets to be organised.

But I have a place to lay my head, an address that doesn't include a PO Box.

I am finding all these things I love about simply coming home, merely spending time in that place.

Having a place to call home is effecting every area of my life in surprising and wonderful ways.

Welcome home.

wod.fam.choc.sod.

My cousin Lizzy is...


amazing.

She is my cousin. She is my sister. She is my best friend.

She makes me laugh harder than anyone I know. She inspires me in more ways than I can express. She reminds me of the Truth when I struggle to see through the lies.

Liz, you have been there for EVERYTHING. For smiling belly buttons and deadly Now & Laters. For Rice Chex with whipped cream and moving away from my dad. For Team Mega Death [we're hardcore] road trips up the PCH to all the happy and sad tears shed over the last 18 months, and all the other ones for that matter.

Thank you for being there for EVERYTHING.

Thank you for being my cousinsisterbestfriend.

Thank you for your tenacious, wise spirit.

Thank you for telling the truth even when it is hard.

Thank you for every single bit of who you are.

I love you and I am so glad you were born 26 years ago today.

day 29: come on legs!

Yesterday was run club day. We did the Springwater Loop and chose to do five miles instead of the three. My running buddy and coworker agreed that she'd run the five with me if I promised we'd take it easy and I wouldn't go crazy and try for sub-10:00 mile averages. I agreed, somewhat reluctantly, seeing the merit in her request as I remembered that I am still sort of recovering from my injury.

It was a beautiful spring day in Portland, sunny to the north, dark and ominous to the south. It was perfect running weather, so perfect in fact that I didn't even notice how fast our pace was until we hit the 2.5 mile marker at 23:45...oops. I apologized profusely to my running buddy for going faster than I'd promised. She told me not to worry, and we turned around and headed back for our second half.

I didn't negative split this five mile loop, but K.ben was right. I did find my sub-10:00 mile time again. I finished at 48:13, faster than my previous five mile time that was pre-injury. Granted, my legs complained more this time and my knee was asking for ice louder than it had, but I still felt good.

Bonus Workout[?]: Lugging the LAST of my boxes up the stairs and into my new place. Now there's just the furniture to unload this weekend....

day 28: it's called circle swim

You know how we have these rules for which side of the road you drive on? Have you ever thought about how efficient that concept is [ignoring, of course, the inefficiencies of fossil fuel]? Wanna know something cool? Swimmers have a similar system. It's what allows swim teams to have 50+ people swimming in the pool at a time. We like to call it "Circle Swim" because you swim in a circle. Well, it's really more of an ellipse. And just like driving in the U.S. you swim on the right side of the lane at all times. It's SO convenient. And NO ONE in the pool at my gym ever does it. The space planning for the pool was really poorly designed, it's only two lanes wide but could EASILY be made into four. So you have four people in the pool and all of a sudden people wanting to swim think they have to wait for a someone else to leave because apparently there is only room for four people. Whatever. CIRCLE SWIM AND WE CAN HAVE A POST SWIM PARTY WITH ALL THE PEOPLE WE'LL FIT IN THE POOL.

Oh, and in case you haven't figured it out yet, I went swimming yesterday. Eighteen hundred yards of non-circle swimming ridiculousness.

Bonus Workout[?]: More packing and going up and down stairs with boxes. UGH.

day 27: a real run

I did it. I went for a REAL run yesterday! Two friends from the office and I walked to Niketown for their Monday run club and as we headed down Salmon I found myself RUNNING.

Not shuffling.

Not jogging.

Not wincing.

RUNNING.

It was so hard not to break into a sprint, jump up and down, or leapfrog over the lights on the sidewalk [waist high ones, not lamp posts]. And yes, my legs were sore. And yes I had to ice my knee. And yes I almost died when I rolled around on the foam roller. BUT I RAN. Mile times weren't quite back at what they were pre-injury BUT they were 10:12s, which is better than I was expecting. Maybe Wednesday will see me under 10 again.

[Insert image of me gazing longingly off in the distance here.]

As an added bonus it POURED yesterday. It started just about the time I was headed back up to Niketown and by the time I was walking for to my bus stop it was torrential. I got on the bus looking like I'd just stepped out of the ocean. I love running in the spring in Portland.

Bonus Workout[?]: Moving LOTS of boxes down and up several flights of stairs in the rain AND staying up until 1AM packing more boxes for this evening's phase of the move.

day 26: a day of rest

I did not intend on taking yesterday off. I had my suit, cap and goggles in the car awaiting my free evening after a day of airports, church, cleaning, unpacking, and Ikea. Silly me. I should have realized that Ikea trumps EVERYTHING. Even exercise. Good thing I'd been hoarding all those extra days off.

I may not have worked out yesterday, but at 9:30 last night as my friend and new housemate sat down to dinner [courtesy of Burgerville, it's local so that means it's good for you, right?] I felt like I'd just finished the longest most arduous workout.

Only four more days to go in April and I intend on making each and every one of them count.

Bonus Workout[?]: Exercising self-restraint at Ikea, purchasing [mostly] only the immediately necessary items.

day 14: like coming home

The smell, warm and pungent, is almost overpowering. I breathe it in, deep, and as the oxygen winds through my veins, my pulse quickens and I remember. I remember anticipation and adrenaline. I remember focus and determination. I remember late nights and early mornings. I remember victory and loss. I remember joy and pain. I remember and I jump.

It has been several years since I have turned to the pool seeking exercise rather than relaxation. But yesterday I returned, excited and nervous, to the first form of exercise I willingly pursued. Though time has passed it is all so familiar. The smell. The sounds. The goggles and cap in my hand. The wet tiles and concrete under my feet. My once piece is my cape, and in this water I can accomplish anything.

Workout: 1800 yards.

Bonus Workout[?]: Lugging my big-ass bag around all day. Seriously, how do clothes weigh that much?!