cheesy pancakes

when i was growing up, my mom had a specialty breakfast that we all looked forward to on those relatively rare occasions when she prepared it: cheesy waffles! oh yes, my friends, fluffy white waffles with shredded cheese in them that browned and crisped. then we smothered them in butter and white sugar. oh man. they were so good.

it’s been years since i’ve had a cheesy waffle, but for reasons unexplainable, i woke up thinking about them this morning. i wondered if i could recreate them gluten-free, and perhaps sans white sugar. but i also realized that i don’t have a waffle maker, so they’d have to be pancakes.

while tim still slept, i got out of bed and googled a few cheesy pancake recipes, then using the general idea from two of them, i got to work on creating my own rendition with healthy ingredients. i also made some cooked apples in butter and maple syrup to use as a topping instead of the white sugar.

on this spring morning, we are enjoying cheesy pancakes, watching our baby girl wiggle happily in my belly, and dreaming about the plans of God unfolding in our neighborhood. amen.

a stack of flapjacks

 

cheesy pancakes topped with maple apples

t enjoys a hot cup of french press coffee

we’re nearly 31 weeks pregnant now! can’t believe our amazing little baby is going to be here, outside my womb and in our home, in about 2 months. goodness!

sporting the silly pregnancy t-shirt

and then, because i’m sure you want to have cheesy pancakes, too, here’s the recipe that i came up with this morning. it should be noted, however, that all measurements approximate because i didn’t actually use measuring spoons/cups. i will not be held responsible for any bad pancakes that result from following this recipe to a “t”….

Cheesy Pancakes (GF)

• 1/4 cup oat flour (or just grind some oats in the coffee grinder to make a flour)
• 1/3 cup brown rice flour
• 1/4 cup sorghum flour
• 1 tsp baking powder
• 1/4 tsp salt
• 3 eggs
• 1 cup plain kefir
• 2 Tbsp oil
• 2 Tbsp agave nectar
• 1 tsp vanilla
• 1/3 – 1/2 cup grated cheddar or Monterey jack cheese
• 2-3 Tbsp sliced almonds

Combine the dry ingredients in a small bowl. In another larger bowl, whisk together the wet ingredients. Add the dry ingredients to the wet ones, mixing well. Then fold in the cheese and almonds.

Drop 1/4 cup at a time onto a preheated skillet. Cook about 2 minutes on each side, until golden.

Maple-Cinnamon Apples

• 2 golden delicious apples, diced
• 2 Tbsp butter
• 1/4 cup maple syrup
• 1 tsp cinnamon

Put all ingredients in a small sauce pan and simmer until apples are softened.

Serve over pancakes.

on the act of giving birth, and the community that catches our baby

last night tim and i went to see a little documentary on natural childbirth and midwifery called Guerilla Midwife. the film was being screened at a vintage community theatre on wealthy street. we walked in to a crowd of pregnant women and women wearing their babies, childbirth educators, doulas, and midwives. they were a crunchy crowd, and a passionate one. there was literature out about all the natural childbirth and parenting resources available in our community. we found out that following the movie there would be a panel discussion made up of labor and postpartum doulas, home and hospital midwives, a natural health practitioner, and an OB.

Guerilla Midwife follows the story of one particular woman who practices at a small clinic in Bali, offering free or reduced-cost midwifery services to families in poverty. she and her team deliver over 700 babies each year. they do it because they believe that there is a correlation between gentle birth and world peace, just as there is a correlation between violent birth and war. they believe this because we are beginning to learn from science and research that there is a delicate cocktail of birth hormones released through the process of birth and in the hour immediately following that is vital to the bonding of mothers and babies, and that when natural birth is altered or interrupted (e.g., in the case of caesarean deliveries, epidural use, induced labor, and the whisking away of babies from mothers within minutes of their births), that cocktail is disrupted, causing hurdles to mother-child bonding as well as breast-feeding. what, they wonder, are the long-term consequences of this on a society in which 30%+ of babies are being delivered in ways that routinely disrupt that vulnerable period? does it inhibit the ability of humans to love one another as well? we know that in monkeys and other mammals, when their babies are delivered under the use of epidural or via c-section, the mothers will reject their young and refuse to care for them. as humans, our higher brains and our spirits enable us to adapt to such disruptions so that even mothers who have their babies by disconnected or traumatic avenues are still able to love their babies and be wonderful mothers. but are we making it harder on ourselves than we need to?

this is just the beginning of the many issues being explored in certain circles, and by science, regarding child birth practices and birth culture in our society. it provokes me.

i want very much to deliver our baby at home, but we’ve ended up choosing the compromise of using a nurse midwife in the context of the hospital, perhaps with the addition of a doula to our support team. and tim and i are learning about Bradley childbirth methods, which focus on intervention- and drug-free labor and delivery with the husband acting as the primary coach to his wife. we feel good about this course of action. i have a conviction that is deeply important and vastly impactful to my baby and my empowerment as a woman HOW i move through the birthing process. i do not want to be numbed, nor to take shortcuts, to getting our baby out of my womb. i want to actively participate in her birth.

i realize that this sounds silly or like needless suffering to some. i know mine isn’t the only perspective.

but however we each decide to birth our babies, one thing that i think we can all agree upon is the importance of birthing our children in an atmosphere of support, safety, gentleness, and great love. a lot of times that atmosphere is hard to find in a hospital, where there is so much fussing and intervening and worrying and screaming. and for many women they don’t have the supportive village of family and friends who speak the truth over them that they were made to give birth, and that they are adequate to do that work, just as they are adequate to parent their children.

i know that so many women give birth with fear and dread, and alone (either literally or because their family and friends are emotionally absent or abusive). i know there are lots of woman in my westside family who have given birth alone and in fear and covered in hatred or anger. and it impacts families. those beginnings matter.

so as i sat listening to the film and the panel discussion, i was washed over with gratitude for the choices i DO have in how to give birth. i am so grateful to have access to midwives who work with our medicaid status. and i am even MORE grateful to know that our baby is coming into a loving and safe marriage. and not only a healthy marriage and home environment, but also into a community of people who are literally THRILLED that she’s coming. our community considers our as-yet-unborn daughter a person and a soul, and they pray for her regularly, as well as for me and tim and our birth process. they can’t wait to know her name, to hold her, to help us to care for her and to raise her. and these people who will be the welcoming committee for our daughter are loving, Spirit-filled people whom we deeply trust. she has a slew of neighbors already claiming titles of honorary aunt- or uncle-hood. what a joy it will be to share our child with this village, and to let her newness and purity be a testimony of grace to a neighborhood of broken families. knowing that this is the life and landscape that our daughter will come into puts me at ease in so many ways and boosts my confidence in our ability to parent well. and hearing the birth stories of women in my life encourages me that i can do it, too.

what a night

it’s been real cold around this house this week. the furnace stopped re-starting itself. we have to run downstairs to manually fire it up. sometimes every 20 minutes. because it’s like 12 degrees outside and the temperature inside so quickly drops. but i have friends who sleep outside on the alley-facing porch of an abandoned house, and i know it could be worse than this (being tucked under a quilt and down comforter, between flannel sheets, with a husband-heater besides).

still, i feel whiney about the darn furnace and the 50 degree air that greets us when we get out of bed each morning.

tonight there was a Love Feast and for the first time ever, and for reasons i do not know, the volunteers that were going to be bringing and serving the food to 150 friends and neighbors never came. we waited until the last minute. we prayed for God to provide. i wondered if there would be a small miracle — the sort where a stranger received a nudge from the holy spirit and comes sheepishly to the door bearing food enough to feed 150 simply because they were being obedient to the nudge, and not because they knew we were in need. we kept the kitchen doors closed so the gathering crowd wouldn’t notice that there was no activity and no food in there. and we waited some more. in the end we made an emergency call to little caesar’s and ordered 38 single-topping pizzas, paying for them with a check that, quite frankly, is likely to bounce. because our account is running low. but we did it anyway, because people needed to be fed, and because God can make provision for that pizza. yes, He can.

and so it was  humble family dinner, and not a balanced meal.

but then a young man i will call A fell down in a grand mal seizure while his hysterical girlfriend shooed everyone away, shouted for someone to call 911, and generally acted hysterical. helpful friends — some with medical training — gathered round him, though she wouldn’t let anyone help, so most of us stood nearby, some half-heartedly munching on pizza, and prayed with hands extended in his direction until emergency services came. they came so fast — within 5 minutes of my hanging up the phone. but A will be okay, i know. at least okay in this sense.

this is the sort of night that leaves me feeling frazzled and a touch overwhelmed…

…and scratching my head about the many small ways (the furnace, the missing food, and the seizures are only three examples) that God seems to be stirring the pot these last couple of weeks. it’s been churning ever since we started on this journey of learning about and opening up to the ministry of the holy spirit with all its unpredictability and power. it seems like things have gotten a bit crazier. i’m sure they actually have. and i keep thinking there is some sort of faith response He is looking for in us, or some thing that He wants to open up to us here, perhaps a display of His glory. but i feel like we’re mostly sorta bumbling. praying differently as we bumble, though.

and now i need to go to bed before the temperature drops another 5 degrees.

pilgrims

pilgrim (n): one who undertakes a pilgrimage, literally ‘far afield’. This is traditionally a visit to a place of some religious or historic significance.

24-7 Prayer Boiler Rooms hold pilgrimage and hospitality as one of it’s six core practices. it’s one of my favorite practices (am i allowed to pick favorites?). you see, tim and i could decide next week that we want to head to Tulsa, OK, and know that there would be people there who would take us in for a while, keep us company, tell us stories of God’s faithfulness, and feed our bellies. because there is a boiler room there, and this is central to their identity, as it is to ours. Conversely, when a group from Kansas City tells us they’d like to head up this way for a visit, we’d move things around to make room for them, and pray that their time here would leave them refreshed and with renewed perspective and a sense of connection to brothers and sisters and to God. you can see why this is one of my favorite boiler room practices.

our last week has had a pilgrim theme. in four parts:

1. tim’s old college pals, sara and kelley, came over from milwaukee to stay a mere 24 hours. but in those hours, we told stories about what God is doing in our cities, elicited one another’s dreams, and remembered shared experiences from the past. when they left, they said they felt refreshed and renewed in their vision, which is exactly what i would have hoped for. but the gift was mutual. because, for me, something in me came back to life as i walked with them around our neighborhood and told stories about the origins of the boiler room, the things God is teaching us here, and the friends who fill the houses on these streets. i’ve been feeling so disinterested and unaffected by life here, lacking in zeal and perspective, but as i started to tell the stories, i began to remember that this is good, that God has brought us here, and that He is moving. and then came the joy. i’m grateful to sara and kelley for giving me a chance to remember God’s story. and now i will be tracking their unfolding story of finding a place to call home in a broken milwaukee neighborhood with heightened interest.
2. sarah w, who is from here, but who has been living in LA and KC for the last two years, found herself “stuck” back here in GR for a couple of month with health concerns and no clearance from the Lord to move on. she is my most transitory friend, a pilgrim in the truest sense. sometimes she doesn’t even have a place other than her car to call home, but she moves with the Spirit. i’ve learned to hold loosely to my time with her, because i understand that He could call her onward again at any time. that’s how she rolls. but for these two months, when i was freshly moved back to GR, sarah and our friend kely and i got together nearly every week. the Lord surprised us with this sweet fellowship, prayers for one another, sympathy of spirit, commonality in friendship…. and all so timely. it was like a well of living water refreshing me each time. sarah stopped by the other night, on her way out of town to KC (yup, He’s moving her onward again). and as we prayed together she thanked God for the gifts in short seasons.
3. mary (not her real name), the 80-year-old polish woman who lives next door to the boiler room, who persisted in beautifying her yard with flowers when no one else in the neighborhood cared for their own, who baked us pączek by the dozens, who celebrated my marriage, who came over for dinner sometimes, who caught squirrels and made us drive them to a park to live somewhere other than her garden… this dear woman had a stroke last week. and yesterday morning she passed away. we got to visit her in the hospital last week. though she wasn’t conscious, we talked to her anyway, and laughed at memories with her, and told her that we loved her. and i believe that she heard us. the sweetest thing, though, was being able to say good-bye to her with confidence that she was going Home. she has longed for it, and she was ready. i don’t think that she was afraid. before we left her room danmike prayed over her “I myself will see him with my own eyes–I, and not another. How my heart yearns within me! (Job 19:27)” and he added, “i’m jealous.” so though this neighborhood will be void of several bright slashes of color because mary isn’t here with us, and though my throat tightens with threatened tears as i write this, my heart is so happy that she get to see His face. at last. and her leaving reminds me that she and we have never been anything other than pilgrims here.
4. trent sheppard and nathan chud came through last night for the God on Campus tour. it was tim’s relational connections with nate, and his organizational ties with Campus America that led to us initiating a tour stop here in GR. before this, they had just come from madison and lacrosse, bringing news and stories of our mutual friends in those places. the bridge street house of prayer hosted it at their Pavilion and there were students from about 5 different campuses present. beforehand, Trent and Nate and Nate’s brother Aaron joined the boiler room core team for a family dinner at the boiler room. i got to cook for us all: black bean and butternut squash soup with a green salad and warm bread (one of my favorite ways to love on pilgrims is to feed them!). and sitting around that table, laughing, telling stories, connecting, speaking kindly to one another… later tony said it was like meeting some great cousins you didn’t know you had. i never cease to be gratefully astonished at the similarity of DNA that God has put in His kids, and how much like family it really can seem when we are together in one place. the God on Campus event was great (so very good, so very much inspiring to lean into the dreams of God for students and campuses), but it was this time to just be with each other that really warmed us all, i think. we found ourselves wishing that their stay could be longer, and our conversations more enduring. but this morning they took their leave. they are pilgrims, too.

to welcome pilgrims is a rich, rich blessing that i would not forgo.

to be a pilgrim, journeying and then taking refuge in the hospitality of another, reminds us of our true nature.

we’re all headed Home.

 

ps: jenn wrote about mary today, too. and you should read it.

762: more thoughts and photos

my last post about working on our house was filled with reflections about the spiritual significance of redeeming a house. and still i’m meditating on these things as i work over there, and praying small prayers in my heart when i see neighbors pass by the front windows or through the alley. but this week has been a lot of task-orientation, too. we’ve been busy. hard to believe that we haven’t even had access to the house for 2 weeks yet, but SO MUCH has been accomplished. without all the help of friends and family and neighbors, all of what has been finished would not be finished for 2 more weeks yet. seriously. work parties and friends helping with projects has made the hugest difference. it’s been the “barn raising” that i wrote about in my last post. i’m unspeakably grateful.

today, as i write this, tim is over at the house with a couple of our friends, sanding the floors down. he’s working over there all day, with friends coming by in shifts to help out, and by the end of tomorrow we hope to have the last coat of polyurethane on the floors. then, once it’s all dried, we’ll move in.

can’t believe that day is right around the corner.

and the house looks now like a place where i’d like to live. i can begin to envision our things filling the rooms, our people filling the space with their laughter and their voices, my cooking creating homey smells… yes, i can see it now.

we still don’t own the house. sometimes this makes me nervous. sometimes i have horrible thoughts about the owners changing their mind, refusing to sell to us, and renting it out to someone else, even after we have invested so much energy and time and money into improving it. i don’t think that’s rational, nor fair to the owners. and the fact is that we do have an accepted offer on the house. just waiting — still — on the bank. i thought we would have heard from them by now. i’m trying not to let this bother me.

is this crazy-ness or faith? sometimes the line is blurry, isn’t it?

well, i want to throw some photos up here for ya’ll…

first, our room:

the carpet was emerald green and the walls and trim were all the same pale sea-foam green color.

next we painted the trim white and the walls a quirky greenish-yellowish color.

finally, we painted the floors white!

now, here is crystal’s room:

when we got the house, the carpet was bright crimson and the walls mauve.

we painted the walls vintage yellow (still need to do the trim)

then, we painted the floors white. and we still need to do the trim. (we’ll do that just before crystal moves in, i think)

here’s the kitchen:

when we got the house, the drawers were all pulled out for extermination of roaches, and everything was dirty. no fridge. green-ish colored walls. grime on walls.

after our first work party, things look CLEANER at least.

during the paint party, we got the walls covered in a gorgeous tidewater blue.

today we have our “new” appliances installed. the kitchen is almost ready for use.

well, i’ll leave it at that for now. i’ll post a string of photos from the living/dining room soon, once those wood floors are refinished!

an update on settling in

so far, it’s felt more like another visit than a move.

because we don’t have a place to call our own, only the hospitality of family and friends to shelter us. because i don’t have a job other than some photography sessions lined up, which means my time is rather unstructured. and because my husband hasn’t been here for these first 10 days of my time in MI, so it’s been only me, again in this familiar place with familiar people, but  missing my other half. i can’t wait until he returns on monday night.

but i am marked by peace. wrapped up in a thick blanket of it. even with so many pieces yet to fall into place, i am utterly at rest! i know that He’s doing it, and i’m not anxious or fretful about it all.

jobs

tim has [another] interview with Hope Network next week. this time for a position that we think is the best fit out of any of the others he’s looked into. Hope wants to hire him, they just want to be sure to put him in a position where he’ll be most fully utilized and not wasted (he’s over-qualified for many of the other positions). this new position would be one-on-one with [developmentally disabled] clients, helping them work on personal goals for their behaviors, work, and life. tim would be perfectly suited for it, i think.

i am still unsure what’s going to happen in the arena of employment for myself, though there are a few intriguing possibilities that i’m exploring, each in different areas. it could be working for a non-profit organization devoted to feeding hungry kids, doing health counseling out of a wellness center, or picking up more photography work, both freelance and for my own business. but i don’t feel in a rush about any of it, and i know God has something good.

AND, this thing that i have not yet mentioned publicly, is that we have been offered and have accepted a part-time job with the Stockbridge Boiler Room. a position made just for us. this has been an unexpected and very wonderful blessing! my part of the job has to do with hospitality: organizing food supply, overseeing volunteers, and cooking for the weekly Love Feasts, as well as co-teaching a course on forming communities of hospitality this fall. and tim’s part will have to do with college campuses and prayer in the Grand Rapids area, very much in keeping with what he’s been doing with Campus America. there may be more, but we’re still in the process of discerning what, precisely, is the work God is giving us to do here. (btw, read jenn’s latest post about the SBR family here).

housing

right now we’re at justin and marguerite’s house in the southeast part of GR, and probably will keep this as a home base for the month of august, while the SBR is on sabbatical for the month anyway. tim and i are spending one week at the hytta (site of the first few days of our honeymoon) and another at a cottage with the Roost family, which means only two weeks of the month will we be in the city anyway, and we might as well rest with justin and margo for that time.

for september, we’re feeling the nudge to get ourselves down to the Stockbridge neighborhood by one avenue or another, so we’re looking into a few options for where that will be, precisely, while we wait for closing on our house. wherever we end up beginning in September, it will hopefully be quite cheap and quite close to the Boiler Room. the reason this matters is that things will get started up afresh with the SBR in the beginning of September and we know that being close will be important for our full participation.

relationships

this has been easy. coming back into regular time with my family has felt great, and it’s been particularly nice to live with justin and marguerite and sweet baby claire. the SBR and Crossroads family has also been amazing. so many hugs and “welcome-homes”. and how nice it has been to be able to part ways after hanging out and say, “see you tomorrow” or “see you soon!” last week i got to participate in a day of reflection and a day of dreaming with the abbot, the prior, and all the interns of the SBR. it’s was so fun to hear about the road they’ve traveled while i’ve been gone, and to listen to God together for where He’s leading us all in this upcoming year.

before we came here, one madison friend got a picture in prayer of our return to Stockbridge as being like jumping on a trampoline. we jump on, are caught and cushioned, then catapulted up and out toward God and His purposes for us. The deeper in we jump with the community, the higher up we’ll be sent into God and His plans for us. i love this picture and sense it’s truth.

and, it has been pleasant to find the memories of Madison friends and family flit through my mind from time to time, and feel a swell of appreciation for the gift we have in them, and how beautifully we were loved and then sent by them. there are great relationships behind and before us!

thus ends this rather newsy update. the deeper things of the spirit and heart will wait for another, separate post.

ps: we are being tempted by a dog (as pictured above). can’t quite decide if we’re “dog people,” but do love the idea of a contented, companionable, part-pittbull dog living in our midst. we have no idea how to be dog parents. any advice is welcome.

landing in grand rapids again

after seeing erin off to work this morning, then having breakfast and prayer time with larissa and maria, i left madison.

i drove so many hours in a too-hot car with engine often threatening to overheat, and a/c that was spotty at best. had to take breaks to let it cool. so it took 9 hours total, getting from there to here.

when i came into the city from the west (i love the panorama of the city scape from I-196 at Lake Michigan Drive!), i went straight to the stockbridge neighborhood and drove around, letting my eyes and heart drink up what i saw. i saw the new community garden on 4th and stocking and thought about what a great thing it is to have that fresh little oasis of hope and nutrition in this place. drove past crystal and dana’s apartment, the cones’ house,  the houses where some of the little neighbor kids i know live with their families, and the palacios’ house… anticipating seeing each of them soon. drove down the alley behind “our” house and then around it’s front-side, laying eyes on it for the first time, and whispering a prayer of hopefulness for it soon to be ours. looked out affectionately at all the neighbors sitting out in yards and on porches, talking, drinking and eating, and appreciated their colors and variety, wishing to know them all. landed, finally, in the alley parking spot behind the boiler room. parked and walked toward the tenderos’ house. didn’t take more than 10 steps before i heard my name being called from an upstairs window, and moments later was smothered in hugs and kisses. danny pulled up on his motorcycle, just back from seeing a movie. and, even though it was past the childrens’ bedtime, we all sat a while in the living room, i eating farmer’s market green beans with jenn’s homemade pesto (first batch of the season), danny telling stories to the kids, who listened with rapt attentiveness. got the skinny from tony about what lies ahead in the boiler room life this week, and felt my heart grow jumpy with joy at the thought of being able to get in on all that action: the reflecting and dreaming, the painting and cleaning, the feasting and praying. it is very good.

i’m home.

though this past year has taught me that God is not bound to particular geographic places, it remains a fact that this place is a Thin Place for me, that it is easier somehow for me to glimpse His face in this particular community in this particular neighborhood and in this particular city. and He has brought be back here (!!!), and not only me but also my husband, my partner in life, unexpectedly and blessedly… and… my heart is so full tonight.

tim is across the country, with lots of extended 24-7 family, for a ten-day long campus america conference at Northfield. his absence in Grand Rapids as i am just arriving is not ideal, but i’m glad for him to be there, with so many good people. and am glad that he was here in stockbridge before i was, to be welcomed and hugged and welcomed home as family, too.

tomorrow, after a photography gig in the afternoon, i get to go out to the lakeshore where justin and marguerite and claire (oh, to kiss her tiny face!) are staying in a family cottage, to bask in the sun with them, and tell stories over dinner. and that will be just right.

but for tonight, i’m off to sleep.

and on a friday night, i ramble

it’s friday night. we’ve just had home-made pad thai and shared a bottle of chilled white wine. t is trying to get our scanner to work so that we can scan in our signed copy of the purchase agreement (offer) we’re putting in on a house in stockbridge. if it doesn’t work, we’ll be calling on jake pretty quickly here to use his.

yes, we’re making an offer on a house. it has the same address as the other, only one block north. and it feels just right. i hesitate to say “this is it” because i’ve said that twice already and was wrong. by now i know that Papa is preparing a place for us, but that He is also full of surprises. His imagination is far more vast than my own. so, i am willing to say, “i don’t know” but also “i hope.”

i’ve been thinking a lot about paint colors and flooring and gardens (peonies, poppies, wheat, raspberries, lupine, sweat peas -  all in a wild tangle).

i’ve been thinking about what it will be like to raise a child in this sweet, sweet neighborhood we’ll soon be calling home.

we’ll not get into this house — even if our offer is accepted — for at least two months, because it is a short sale. this means we’ll stay a while somewhere else. i’m grateful to have friends and family willing to take us in until things settle with our housing situation. God’s timing in this is wise. by the time we will likely close on the house, i’ll have had time to earn some income through photography, tim will have some paychecks under his belt from Hope Network,  and we’ll have a returned security deposit from our apartment in Madison…. and we will not have to borrow money for closing costs, we think.

four weeks left here in madison. four brief weeks. we need to purge in order to pack well. but we purged only last year when we moved. so perhaps there won’t be tons of that.

i have a job that i love, which needs to be finished well. i’m making a book of favorite recipes — previously stored only in my head — as a parting gift to leave to that place. i’ve loved that job. it makes me so happy to see those small faces pressed up against the glass of the kitchen door, waving and smiling. and the other small faces of the two year olds who wander into my kitchen at various points to tell me what they are doing and to inquire about what i am doing. they are so very precious and i will sincerely miss them all.

i want to have a child of my own. and quickly.

we’ve been with family here more often lately. sunday dinners and evening prayer sessions with linda-mom and lon-dad. we’ve been trying to show up for amanda in her activities, and are excited that nonny is back in town for the summer months. we’re hoping for opportunity soon to have a lingering meal with nathan and kristen, and a trip to see dan and jess (and those darling boys we call nephews). the collier clan is wiggling deeper into my heart, especially now as we stand poised to put a giant lake between us. go figure.

t took a bike that previously was not ride-able and made it into something that’s a smooth ride. i love that he has done this. more to come, i am sure, once he has a garage to use as a workshop for his “man hobbies.”

i love this photography thing i’ve got going on. if you haven’t done so already, please visit me here or here to see some of what i’ve been up to. i’m assisting on a wedding tomorrow and then doing two senior portrait sessions in the next two weeks. and  i’m so happy to have several sessions booked within the first two weeks of being back in Michigan — a few family sessions and two weddings! i hope for more. not only because it earns income but because there is so much life in this activity for me. i find such pleasure in it. i couldn’t stop if i wanted to. also, i love watching myself grow and mature as photographer, making better images even as i have been unable to upgrade my equipment. this means that when the [glorious] day arrives in which i can upgrade my lenses and camera body and computer, i’ll feel as though i’m truly ready for it; because i’ve learned how to milk the more inferior tools for all they’re worth and make something lovely from them… imagine what i could do with an upgrade in tools!

meanwhile, in the deeper places, i’m being brought into something i think i would call humility. i’m praying that that characteristic would be birthed in me, and get a good foothold. i feel it’s part of the preparation He is doing now, before we move.

and now i’ll say goodnight.

called home

as i mentioned, i’d surrendered (even the longing to go home).

but then tim told me that HE, early on in his sabbatical, felt for the first time ready to consider a move to Grand Rapids as a viable option.

then, jenn emailed me and said, “okay, so move here!” and, “tony says i should ‘call you home.’” they went on to explain that the harvest in stockbridge is plentiful, that workers are needed, and that they would love to work shoulder to shoulder with us there.

i have not been considering this as a real option; had not let my mind explore the possibility of that. “but,” i wrote to Him in my journal on 2/28, “jesus, i will listen to YOUR voice, and walk under YOUR yoke, not the desires of any other people. it is YOU i am following and whom tim is following and YOU will perfectly lead us as we walk with You. will will walk to grand rapids with You or we will continue to walk with You here in madison. i trust You. Please show us which way to go.”

so i began to allow myself to think about what it might be like to return to Grand Rapids, and to the Stockbridge Boiler Room. i have been so home-sick for it. and we are being invited back, to step back into that beloved and vibrant community, to love its neighborhood, to shepherd its flock, to labor alongside a family we love and whose calling and mission overlap with what we believe ours to be. these benefits, alongside the loosening of several ties that have kept us anchored in madison, seem to make this an obvious and lovely invitation to say yes to.

so, we retreated a weekend at the tendero’s hytta (that same, wonderful place we spent the first three days of our marriage) the first weekend in March. we wanted to get away to seek His guidance about this.

when i have thought about the questions for which i want answers from God, much of it comes down to questions about my Life Work. how badly i yearn for a clear and unique calling on my life and marriage. yet as i listened to Him that weekend at the hytta, mostly what i heard was lines from scripture, not a voice speaking an intensely personal set of instructions. i heard scriptures like these:

• He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God. (micah 6:8)
• Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world. (james 1:27)
• Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter— when you see the naked, to clothe him, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?… If you do away with the yoke of oppression, with the pointing finger and malicious talk,and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday. (isaiah 58:5-12)
• and the sermon on the mount

and these are the things that we DO know. we know them because they are in His word. they are the calling of every person who follows in the footsteps of jesus. and we know them also because these commands are in our hearts, uniquely. the prayer pictures we had of our marriage before our wedding even occurred center around these themes: of being joined together for the sake of others who are poor and whom we will feed. we have known, first individually and then as a couple, that this call to love the poor in concrete and incarnational ways is planted deep.

and we sense that, whatever geography we choose, and whatever community we align ourselves with, we have a holy responsibility to be faithful to that which we do know (phil 3:16).

i see now that in many ways i have been waiting on our community here in madison to want to go there with us, and have been stalling on acting on it because we would be acting alone in many regards, which felt lonely and improper. and part of the reason that i have longed for home is because there is a community that has this call a bit more integrated into their daily lives and outlook, thereby making it a more natural place to live out of our convictions.

but the action or inaction of our community, the shared conviction or lack thereof, is not to be the deciding factor in our own obedience. here and now, starting with the two of us, we follow our hearts, build our family culture, and follow jesus in the ways he has called us to.

this, we realized, is freeing. it makes us free if we were to remain here, and it keeps us free as we plan to return to stockbridge. because now we have owned it, taken responsibility for the obedience it demands. i wonder if this is part of what jesus means when he says that we must hate our relatives, even our own life, in order to follow Him. (luke 14:26).

yes, we’re being called Home.

that happily means we are literally called home to Grand Rapids, but more importantly and most truly, it means being called Home to His heart, called Home to the calling He has already put in us, to be faithful to it.

glad to see domesticity making a come-back

i am so glad that this generation is taking back domesticity and the work of home.

i am so glad that it is no longer seen as degrading or slightly embaressing to want to concern oneself with the matters of keeping a house. that now, to knit, to sew, to bake, to cook, to clean, to organize, to decorate… these are now entirely valid expressions of femininity, even in many whom would call themselves feminists.

i am glad to be allowed to listen to those parts in me that long for a rich home life, without so many conflicting voices telling me i oughtn’t want such things.

because:

i like the smell of yeast bread baking,

i love the texture of fabrics waiting to be remade into something useful,

i relish the aromas and colors of a home-cooked dinner,

i enjoy the meditative quality of redundant tasks such as folding laundry or washing dishes, and

i am blessed to have folks over and set them down in a beautiful and calm place to rest.

yes, domesticity is making a come-back: culturally, i believe, but also in my own heart.