The Girl Who Waited

The Girl Who Waited
by the Girl

There once was a girl who waited. She waited to go to bed until she could hardly keep her eyes open. She waited to get up each morning until it was an absolute necessity. She would wait to leave the house until the very last minute.

The friends of this girl began to expect such behavior.  As much as she tried, the girl could not change her patterns. The girl was a procrastinator. 

One day, during a fit of waiting to avoid doing one thing or another, the girl came upon a sentence that hit her square in the gut.  It read, “…procrastination is just fear in fancy clothes.”[i]

The thing of it is, she had been a procrastinator all her life.  She waited to get her chores done. She waited to do her homework until the very last second. Even as an adult, her procrastination cost her precious time and energy.

She knew she was avoiding something important in all this waiting.  She was avoiding some of the deep heart-level issues that really just boiled down to fear. 

This thought used to surprise her.  She had never thought of herself as a fear-driven person.  She had always considered herself pretty level-headed; lacking much of the anxiety she had seen in the lives of others. 

She had been wrong.

Her fear and her worries had just been carefully hidden. She kept them tidy and covered in nice packaging with a pretty little bow.  It is possible she was afraid of her fears. She was afraid they would take over.  She was afraid others would see them.  This girl was accustomed to her fears being kept inside while she could put on the face of peace and calm that others had come to expect and need of her. 

In moments of honesty and insight the girl could see the truth.  She could see what she had been waiting to see. She began to see that her fears were secret lies that had been toxic to her very soul.

She had believed the lies that she wasn’t enough on her own.  She believed that she needed to keep her true self hidden from those around her.  She believed the lies that told her to fear failure.  Likewise, she admitted she was also afraid to really succeed. 

What was all of this about?  What could be done about it?

The girl knew she needed to seek something true. Something solid. Something timeless.  Some One who was beyond all time.

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”[ii]

It was that simple.

She needed the Creator of her soul to meet her in deep and significant ways.  Her heart needed the Living Water of His truth to squelch the fiery darts of fear and half-truths.

She needed a different kind of waiting.

“I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope.”[iii]

Waiting for the Lord was wholly different than the kind of waiting she often fell into.  Holy waiting is restful, peaceful, and full of expectation.  Fearful waiting is avoidance of something that seems much bigger than its reality.

The girl found that Holy waiting was an opening of her heart before the One who created its depths.  She soon found that by exposing her heart the fear began to be released as His loving presence filled each wound that had been cut by lies.

Holy waiting was what she longed for.  It was in those moments that she discovered more of her true self, free from fear. The one that He created in the beginning of time.

There once was a girl who waited.  And her waiting was good.

---

[i] By Amanda Williams, http://www.life-edited.com/2013/08/a-risk-worth-taking/

[ii] John 1:1 http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=john%201&version=NIV

[iii] Psalm 130:5 http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=psalm%20130&version=NIV

The Wonder of It All

This is a photo of Ethan, our newest nephew.
He is one of 5 nieces and 3 nephews we absolutely adore.

I can't stop looking at this photo.
It stirs my heart in ways I can't quite express. Anyone with me?

Perhaps it's his sweet gaze. Or maybe the dancing lights behind his fuzzy baby hair.

I so easily forget how the Lord uses images to stir something deep within me.  This photo does just that.

Pause for a moment...
What do you see?

When I look at this photo, I see a boy looking adoringly at his father. His gaze speaks trust.
He knows his father.

His father deeply loves him.

As I begin to contemplate the coming of the Lenten season, this photo reminds me of an old hymn. Even if it's familiar, read it again slowly:

How deep the Father's love for us
How vast beyond all measure
That He would give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure

How great the pain of searing loss
The Father turns His face away
As wounds which mar the chosen One
Bring many sons to glory

Behold the Man upon a cross
My guilt upon His shoulders
Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice
Call out among the scoffers

It was my sin that held Him there
Until it was accomplished
His dying breath has brought me life
I know that it is finished

I will not boast in anything
No gifts, no powr's, no wisdom
But I will boast in Jesus Christ
His death and resurrection

Why should I gain from His reward?
I cannot give an answer
But this I know with all my heart
His wounds have paid my ransom

How beautiful.  How painful.  How simply grateful it makes me.

I have been blessed to be in the company of many great fathers. It has been an absolute joy to watch my brother become a father for the first time this year. He joins the ranks of both of my brothers-in-law who are also excellent fathers.  I love seeing these men love and adore their children.  They would do anything for them.

I am drawn again to this photo and the hymn.  If these earthly fathers love their children this much, how much more does our heavenly Father love us?  I can't help but think that Jesus loved and trusted his Father just as much as sweet Ethan's eyes reflect. Do I trust my Father with the same abandon?  Do I trust His son?

Lord, continue to stir the deep places of our hearts. Remind us of your love.  Thank you for your sacrifice.

Cashew Chicken and Veggies

This is a picture of  leftovers from last night-
still tastes just as good!

I haven't been one to post recipes on my blog yet, but this one is too good to pass up.  I found the original recipe from a pretty picture on Pinterest.

The original recipe used a crock pot, but I changed it up since I got started late. (I also skipped the step of coating the chicken in flour and browning.)  The red pepper flakes add a little kick to it but it's not too spicy.

Ingredients:
4 chicken breasts, cubed
1 cup cashews
Frozen or fresh stir fry veggies
Sauce:
2Tbsp canola oil
1/2 cup low sodium soy sauce
4 Tbsp rice wine vinegar
4 Tbsp ketchup
2 Tbsp brown sugar
1 Tbsp minced garlic
1/2 tsp red pepper flakes
(1 tsp grated ginger- optional)

Using a wok, cook chicken cubes in olive oil and some sprinkled black pepper. Add veggies and cook to your liking.  In a separate bowl, mix sauce ingredients and add to cooked chicken and veggies.  Add cashews.  Serve with steamed rice or noodles.  This recipe took about 30 minutes total prep and cooking time.

Let me know what you think. Enjoy!

Retreat: Encountering the Wall

Last spring I hosted my first Art & Soul Care retreat as a part of my thesis project at Denver Seminary.  I am honored and blessed to say that I am hosting another- this time in Greeley!  The two day retreat (two consecutive Saturdays) is centered around those who are facing a Wall in their spiritual life.

The retreat uses elements of spiritual formation and creative expression to work through this often difficult stage in the spiritual journey.  The Wall is often lonely, dark, and full of questions about ourselves, our faith, and our God.  The Wall often comes out of a time of transition or extreme busyness.

Because the Wall is an isolating experience, it is incredibly helpful to sit with a group of those who are either in a Wall or coming out of one. 

This retreat is for both artists and the creatively challenged!  

The retreat is being held on Saturdays November 3 & 10.  I have created a retreat flyer with more information for those who are interested.  Or, I can be emailed for more information as well. 

Sign up is limited, so please contact me soon!

Polishing Brass

My brass lamp: a work in progress

Heath and I are preparing to have some guests for the weekend- three of the smallest, cutest guests I know and their parents who I couldn't live without.  It has been our goal to have our home ready this weekend for everyone to see.  It has been a work in progress to be sure.

Heath had to go into work for a few hours this morning so I planned to get a few more things done. And yes, I'm procrastinating on vacuuming.

That's when I starting polishing.  I thought it would be a quick project.  I have polished silver before and thought this would be easy.  Does anyone else enjoy the same satisfaction of seeing the shiny surface return from underneath the dark tarnish? It's a chore I don't mind doing.

Until I decided to tackle a very old brass lamp that was a hand-me-down from my great aunt.  It's a beautiful lamp that was in great need of some attention.  It turns out the tarnish was much thicker than I thought.

Like our lives, we think we've made some progress and have become more pure, more sanctified.  While this is true indeed, there is always more tarnish to get rid of.  A wise friend recently reflected this week that the closer you get to Jesus, the more aware you become of your sin (tarnish).

It's not that he is trying to point out all our faults in order to bring shame.  Rather, he is working to sanctify us to be more like him.  To love like him. To see like him.  To hear like him.

As our tarnish is exposed we have two choices.  We can turn back and live with the ugly tarnish encasing our hearts.  Or we can turn to him.

He's a master with that polishing cloth and loves to see things made new.

Pulling Weeds

Sometimes the weeds are beautiful in their own right,
but need to be pulled none the less
(photo taken last summer in Westminster, CO)

At the beginning of the month we moved.  While we were moving I was experiencing what Heath called “mover’s remorse.”  It’s that feeling of being overloaded with boxes, the exhaustion of packing and lifting, and continually wondering if you made the right choice.  Thankfully, mover’s remorse is temporary.

Once we were officially done with the old and moved into the new, we knew we had made the right choice.  The home we are renting is beautiful. It has more room, more light, and generally feels like an upgrade in every way.  One of the many perks is the little yard we have in the front and in the back.  This perk also means more work, but is a price we are more than willing to pay.

This morning I went outside to pull some of the weeds I had been avoiding.  I started to think about the age old analogy of how we can also have weeds in our personal lives.  For me, one of my biggest weeds is procrastination.  The irony is thick in this case because the more I procrastinated on pulling the weeds in our front lawn, the more weeds I had to deal with today.

I realized that many of the weeds in both my life and in our yard seem to pop up in some of the healthiest areas of growth.  It’s like the weeds instinctively know that they will be well fed and nourished if they weasel their way in with the green grass. In some cases we are less likely to pull those weeds because the grass is still growing green and strong.  That is, until the weeds begin to multiply and take over. 

Much like procrastination, the more you ignore the weeds at first, the more you have to pull later.  The weeds have to be dealt with one way or another.  What are some of the weeds in your life?  I pray that you find the strength to face them.  When they are tough to pull or the roots run to deep, seek the Master Gardener.  He’s always willing to help.

And with that, I’m off to pull some more weeds.  And maybe unpack a few more boxes.  

Lessons from the Jury Box

Weld County Courthouse where I served in a jury  trial.
The victim from my case walked right down this street
the night she was attacked.

It’s not often that I choose to watch shows like Dateline.  Usually, the true stories that are portrayed have enough trauma and/or horror that I avoid them.  Emotionally, I feel that I need to save my interest and compassion toward such stories for meeting with my clients.  Tonight was an exception.  Heath and I decided to have a night in.  We had defrosted a homemade lasagna and settled in to watch some “light” television. 

Even with tons of channels we still couldn’t find anything to watch and eventually landed on the Dateline story about a local case.  Having remembered the story from Denver news last year, we continued to watch.  The story was difficult and touching.  The murder and sexual assault case showed that eventually justice had been served but not without cost.  As the father of one victim stated of the second victim and her family, “We are related in tragedy.”

I felt connected in a rather unusual way.  Earlier this summer I served on a week-long jury trial for a sexual assault case.  It was difficult.  It was educational.  It was emotional.  But most of all, it was just. 

I learned a lot from serving on jury duty.  First, I was reminded that we live in a country in which the alleged is truly innocent until proven guilty.  We were required to listen to all the evidence before making a decision.   

I realized how contrary this is to our current American culture.  Most of us make a decision and then search for facts to prove our position on any given topic.  Staying neutral to hear both sides was actually a very freeing experience.  I hope to take that skill into other prayerful decisions in my life.

I also learned that I am incredibly proud of our legal system.  It is by no means perfect, but it is absolutely full of individuals who care deeply for justice.  I left this trial experience feeling proud and thankful for the police officers, paramedics, detectives, forensic scientists, doctors, nurses, attorneys, judges and countless others who work with victims on a daily basis.  They do their jobs to help others and we have much to thank them for. 

From this experience I was also reminded that I am continually thankful for my job as a counselor.  I sat front and center in the jury box, directly across from the witness stand.  There were so many times I wanted to give encouraging nods to the visibly anxious nurse, the thoughtful police officer, and especially the tearful victim.  I wanted to offer words of affirmation for their truth and their bravery.  I wanted them to know their story mattered and that their courage counted, for those are the things I get to do in the counseling room. 

I learned that as a counselor I am blessed.  I am blessed to hear the tears and the trauma.  I am blessed to offer a listening ear and an encouraging word.  I am blessed to be trusted with the deep places of the human heart.  I am blessed with the ability to offer hope.

I am blessed because I know that there is Someone much bigger than me who cares more deeply for each victim.  He cares infinitely more for every tear and every tragedy.  He cares so much that He is the one who will ultimately bring justice. 

I walked away from a week in the jury box feeling deeply encouraged and deeply indebted.  My heart had been burdened, yet I know that the Lord has set it free.  

Milestones

A milestone is a marker along a path that reminds you of how far you have come, and in some cases how far you have yet to go.  My sister Nina and I saw a lot of milestones this week as we drove to Kansas and back to visit the newest milestone in our family.  More on that in a minute.

I feel like we’ve just gone through a whirlwind of milestones.  Life is full of them really.  

We hit milestones at every turn.
The end of a school year.  The beginning of a new season.
A wedding.

This season has been especially full of milestones, which is perhaps why it’s been since Easter that I’ve written.  So, here’s my celebration of a few milestones from the past few months, a photo album of sorts…

Walking through the local Hallmark store I realized that they make their living on milestones.  This blog post has been on my mind for months, so I found their sign rather convenient. J

My thesis felt like an incredible milestone.  It had been in the works for the last few years.  It’s been a great feeling to have it done. My prayer is now about how to use it in the years to come. 
Some “art and soul care” projects are definitely in the works.

My baby sister graduated!  We celebrated our graduations one week apart: hers from Rock Canyon High School and mine from Denver Seminary.  I’m so proud of her!

My grandpa just celebrated his 85^th birthday.
I think we all enjoyed the chorus of sweet voices that helped him celebrate.

And perhaps the sweetest milestone of all is the birth of Benaiah Thomas Tesone. 
The sweet baby boy of my brother Travis and wife Ashley. We are all in love!

I am thankful for the milestones we look back on.
I am thankful for the milestones yet to come.
I love that we continue to celebrate the life we have been given.  

"My God, My God..."

A copy of the Pieta by Michelangelo

For our Good Friday Service at church tonight, there were seven of us asked to speak on the seven last words spoken by Jesus.  Here was my contribution:

Matthew 27:46 reads, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”  We know that these were some of Jesus’ last words as he hung on the cross.

I was reminded that these are the same words David spoke in Psalm 22. He writes, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from my cries of anguish?”

There are many times in life in which we feel forsaken by God.  Forsaken is likened to feeling deserted, abandoned, desolate, isolated…  We feel that we have been left to fend for ourselves. We feel very much alone. 

Have you ever felt forsaken?  Maybe you have been without a job for a very long time, or you found out your spouse has had an affair.  Maybe you have been waiting for years to even have a spouse.  Maybe you feel stuck in a pit of depression, or feel without hope in the midst of what feels like a mundane life. 

Sometimes we feel forsaken because of our sin.  More often, we feel forsaken because of our shame. 

Our sin separates us from God because we have stepped outside of the boundaries He has set for us.  As Christians, we know that forgiveness from Him restores us and sets us free.  The problem is, we often don’t believe we have been forgiven.  We may know it in our heads, but we don’t believe it in our hearts. 

You see, our shame gets in the way.  While our sin is based on the things we have done, shame is based on lies about who we are.  Shame messages permeate our thoughts, our beliefs, our actions, and our lives. 

When Jesus hung on the cross, he was separated from God because he carried our sin.  The sin in which he died for.  And it was this death that set us free.

Hebrews 12:2 says, “Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him, endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.”

It’s important to know that Jesus died for our sins; our actions against him.  He did not die for the lies of shame we continue to believe. 

To read that verse again, it says, “Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him (Easter), he endured the cross (taking on all our sins), scorning its shame (he did not take on the lies we believe), and (then he) sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” (emphasis added)

Are you feeling forsaken?  Ask the Lord to meet you there.  Are you believing shameful lies of the enemy?  Ask the Lord to show you how to be set free.  Our first step is to cry out, “My God, My God...”  And because of the cross, He will meet us there.

Dreams

I've been dreaming a lot lately.  Very impractical dreams.

This morning I woke up and told Heath I had a dream in which we had just bought a new camera.  This might not be every girl's dream, but it sure is mine!  Last month I attended a photography conference in Vegas and had my hands on a beautiful new DSLR with an amazing lens to match.  I can't remember the rest of this morning's dream, but it also had something to do with my brother skydiving. (Trav, are you planning to jump out of airplanes instead of biking through Kansas?)

Yesterday I had a dream about church. Is it sacrilegious to have dreams about the communion bread being small french fries?  Note:  if this ever happens to you, make sure you wait to partake of the bread until the cup has been passed, otherwise you have nothing to dip into the ketchup. (And no, that's not what we had dinner the night before!)

The better (more redeeming?) part of yesterday's dream was when Heath leaned over in the church pew and told me to write a substantial amount on our offering check. We both smiled in thanksgiving that we could give back from what we had been given.  Oh, to dream big!

And yet, some dreams do come true.

Seven years ago I had a very distinct dream about marrying a tall man with brown hair, strong hands and smiling blue eyes.  In the dream we enjoyed life together with fun and laughter. At that time, I knew I hadn't met the man of my dreams, but now I know he was definitely worth the wait.  A week from today we will already celebrate our first year of marriage!

There are other dreams I have held close to my heart that are in the midst of coming true.  For years I have dreamed of owning a studio in which I could offer art therapy, counseling, spiritual direction, art workshops, and a family portrait session or two.  While the studio space isn't a reality yet, I am in the process of starting a private practice for counseling and spiritual direction.  I recently held my first spiritual formation art retreat. I feel both honored and excited to be doing these things now and can't wait to do more.

I am looking forward to more dreams, and I'll do my best to keep you posted.

Gumballs

Photo taken at Higher Grounds in Greeley

Lately I've been thinking about all the metaphors and phrases I use. If there's a word picture to be found, I'll grab it. I often talk about how counseling is like cleaning out your closet or healing an open wound. There are all sorts of parallels to be drawn.

Or, I've been known to discuss how "anger is almost always a secondary emotion." It's true. That might have to be a future post.

And then there are gumballs.

This analogy is really quite simple. The more you put in, the more you get out. Put in a quarter, get a gumball. Put in two quarters, get two gumballs.

I recently started my last semester at Denver Seminary. It's been a long but amazing journey. My first semester was in the fall of 2002. I had just finished a summer of travel to Boston, the coast of Maine, the Grand Canyon (road trip in a convertible), and topping it off with fragrant Hawaii. Even after all that travel, I was deeply searching for something more.

I knew I wanted to be a counselor. I also desperately wanted to grow. Both happened in beautiful and stretching ways.  But first, I needed to invest a few quarters.

My first round of seminary brought me through four years of textbooks, tests, mentoring, and internships.  Courses in theology, biblical interpretation, counseling, ethics and so much more taught me about my future profession. I also learned a lot through the art of living. During that time I worked in new jobs, traveled a bit more, and walked through the loss of my amazing and beautiful Grandma Nadine. Life was lived and learned.

Gumballs. I had gained so much.

Later, I decided to go back to seminary in the fall of 2008. Again, I had just returned from a trip. This time I had spent two weeks resting and adventuring in Kuwait and Dubai. The previous months of grief-laden work had brought more gumballs. And some big gooey bubbles.

And so started this next journey.  More classes, more reading, lots of reflection, tons of growth, and thankfully no tests. A good compliment to my Counseling degree, this one is called Christian Formation and Soul Care. I'll have to explain more later, but I'm excited about where this is leading.

As I face a stack of books and a bunch of deadlines, I'm incredibly excited for this last semester. I have a lot of work ahead, but I'm ready to invest some more quarters.

Life is tough. Sometimes it's a bit on the chewy side. But, oh those gumballs make it so sweet.

--
(As a side note, I can't take credit for this analogy. I first learned it from a counselor named Rachel Haley who supervised me as an intern. Obviously, I continue to find it very useful.)

Dwelling place

I'm sitting at a quaint little coffee shop in downtown Greeley in the midst of some changed plans. Does that happen to you as much as it does to me?

I showed up to a meeting only to find out it had been canceled. As I drove off, I thought I would try a new plan. Instead of going immediately back home, I prayed... "Lord, how should I spend my time today?"

I remembered a nearby coffee shop that inspires creativity. It seemed like the perfect fit since my new and creative Bible study book just happened to be in my bag.

I've been blessed with a new group of women in Greeley. The slow but good process of getting to know them has blessed me. We've just started a book called Dwelling with Philippians. I love it! I'm sure I'll post more, but for anyone looking for a new approach to studying scripture, this is one to check out.

Off to do some dwelling and see what the Lord has for me this cold and sunny afternoon in Greeley...

Hair Therapy

Photo credit: Nina Aguirre :)

I've come to realize that a chair in a hair salon is very similar to the one in a therapist’s office. Some of us make appointments at the last minute, hoping for a much needed fix before things get really bad.  Others make regular appointments, wisely planning ahead for continual care.

Some haircuts are staged on the back porch with mom trying to avoid nicking an ear. Some haircuts are overpriced but in fancy, relaxing salons. Other haircuts are blunt and to the point- pull out the razor and get it done.  Counseling can be much the same way.

I’m finding so many similarities; although these might be more applicable for women since most men opt for the Super Cut special.  Or is there an analogy to be had? Not sure I’ll go there today…

When it comes to good counsel, some advice needs to be straight up and to the point. Some of the best therapy can happen on the back porch with a trusted companion. Occasionally, we need the extended session where we are guided through the transition.  Often times, continuing care is an important course.  

To bring the two together, hair stylists can be great counselors. When they are doing their job, through listening and asking good questions they help us to be more of ourselves. By keeping us on track, encouraging a new style, or walking us through a makeover we experience care along the way.  While I will never be a hairstylist, I’m so grateful to be a counselor.  I love watching others discover more of who they are and who God intended them to be.  I love to see healing, growth, and good change. I’m privileged to walk with others through their grief and loss.  I’m honored to be trusted with the inner struggles of the heart.

Haircuts, much like therapy, give us the hope of something better.

----

Hair in reality is darker than it appears on camera!

For the record, these thoughts all came about because a week ago I went in for a haircut and a bit of change. For the first time in my life, I’m a brunette!  I’m still getting used to it, but have had lots of fun with the new color as I continue to grow my hair out (last summer I cut 8 inches off!).  P.S. Anyone looking for a new stylist-  let me know… Leslie is the best!  

New Notes for a New Year

"Forget the former things;

Do not feel on the past.

See, I am doing a new thing!

Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?

I'm am making a way in the wilderness

and streams in the wasteland."

Isaiah 43:18-19










New Year's has always been one of my favorite holidays. I enjoy the fresh start, new beginnings, and especially knowing the daylight hours are getting longer again! 


This year, I know several loved ones who could use a fresh start. Last year was a rough year for many.  For me, it was a year filled with new joys and new sorrows.  It seems the toughest times are often watching those we love experience pain.  


For 2012 I'm looking forward to seeing how things will come together. I feel as though the Lord is stirring all kinds of ideas and dreams in my heart.  It has taken a time in the wilderness to strip away the old. At times my heart felt as though deep roots had been dug up and painfully pulled out.  Now, my heart feels ready for the flood of new, fresh, living water.  A stream in the desert.


A new song is forming in my heart.  


A journal entry from 2005 rings true again this year:


I feel both excited and scared; 
freed yet burdened 
because of the cost of my healing and the call of my heart. 
Big things are happening- huge things are in store.
I can't wait.

Christmas from the Pub

I love traditional Christmas songs and hymns (see my last post).  I also love new creative songs.

Here's a refreshing new Christmas song in an Irish-pub style. From Zac Hicks at Cherry Creek Presbyterian Church. Because you can't just listen once, I had to share...

Now, and Not Yet

I love Christmas hymns. Probably more than I like Christmas.

Don’t get me wrong… I love seeing family. I love Christmas lights. I love snowy nights and Christmas break. I love Christmas cookies, shopping for my family, decorating, and maybe this year getting kissed under the mistletoe. There are a lot of things I like about Christmas. 

The problem is, sometimes they get in the way of, well, Christmas.

I could use any number or catchy phrases about where our Christmas focus should be, but I think it’s better said in one of my favorite Christmas hymns:

O come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free
Thine own from Satan's tyranny
From depths of Hell Thy people save
And give them victory o'er the grave
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Key of David, come,
And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high,
And close the path to misery.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, O come, Thou Lord of might,
Who to Thy tribes, on Sinai's height,
In ancient times did'st give the Law,
In cloud, and majesty and awe.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.  

Did you hear it? Can you see it? Can you taste the weighted anticipation?  Can you feel the deep grief-laden expectation of a Savior?  The words seem heavy:  "ransom captive,” “lonely exile,” and “Satan’s tyranny.”

And yet, “Rejoice! Rejoice!”  There is joy in the coming Promise. Savior. Messiah. Emmanuel. God With Us.

This is why I love Christmas hymns so much. They are a reminder of Advent. Of Jesus’ arrival.  A reminder that He has already come, and the expectation that He will come again. The profound words above are still true.  This world still faces captivity, loneliness, exile, evil, tyranny, and mourning.  And yet we have hope.  He has come. He is here now. He is coming again, just not yet.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

Three Days of Thanksgiving- Part 3

DAY 3: my future


As I wrapped up my last days at work, I knew I would go through a period of grief. A wise professor once counseled that we grieve for so much more than just death. Each change, each transition, is a loss. I'm so thankful for his teaching.

This wisdom prepared me for my most recent loss. After six years of learning, teaching, counseling, healing, tears and much joy, it was time for me to let go. It has left me abundantly thankful. I'm thankful for those I had the privilege of working with. I learned so much from the beautiful hearts at Alternatives Pregnancy Center. What a blessing it was to serve alongside amazing co-workers and volunteers.

It would be true to say I have grieved the loss of my job at Alternatives.  Six years taught me so much. One of my biggest lessons was understanding the need to grieve well.  When this doesn't happen, we find our hearts crippled; unable to fully engage in life before us. It is through grief that we find healing.  It is through grief that we understand the depths of those around us. It is through grief that we find our Lord.

The picture above was taken during another time of grief. It's a reminder to me that grief can be beautiful. Grief has a purpose.

I borrowed a book in the days after leaving my job. In it, the character finds a quote printed at a museum near the chapel Christopher Columbus prayed in before leaving for the New World. It's reported that he ended each night with the turning of his hourglass and words of hope for his future. On this Thanksgiving Day, my heart resonates with his words.

As I face this wonderful new season, I am thankful to say, there is much that awaits.  I am thankful for the renewed hope and purpose I have found in this time of transition.  I am thankful for what I have found in my time of rest.  I am ready for what's ahead and I'm excited for my future.

"The time spent has been good. The time to come will be better."
-Christopher Columbus
(Quoted from Canary Island Song)

Three Days of Thanksgiving- Part 2

DAY 2: my family


One year ago today, Heath asked me to be his wife.  Looking back, it’s amazing really… it was just six weeks after our first date, and four months until our wedding.  Were we crazy?  Maybe.  But I wouldn’t change a thing.

We found out the saying is true: When you know, you know.

There are many other things I know. Many things I know I’m thankful for. Today, I’m incredibly thankful for my family. I’m thankful that Heath is now the first person in my family. The one I’m most excited to see every day. The one I’m thankful to spend the rest of my life with.  He is the man God gave me, and I wouldn’t change a thing.

I’m thankful for my parents. I’m thankful for the example they have been; that in the working out of their own faith, their relationship, and their love for their family, they have been honest in the struggle and the pain.

I’m thankful for my siblings. Those I grew up with and those I have gained. I’m thankful for their friendship. I’m thankful for their creativity, their love, their honesty, their uniqueness, and definitely for their sweet children!

I’m thankful for our extended families. We have a strong heritage. A heritage of faith, of love, of hardship, of strength, and a heritage of overcoming. We have an abundance to be thankful for. That I know.

Is our family perfect? No. But I wouldn’t change a thing.

Three Days of Thanksgiving- Part 1

DAY 1: my freedom 

I am thankful for my freedom…

the freedom to live and the freedom to move
the freedom to love
the freedom of my faith
the freedom bought at a cost by those who serve
the freedom offered at the cross
the freedom to travel and experience the world
the freedom to rest and the freedom of home
the freedom to see beauty, capture beauty, and to create beautiful things
the freedom born of healing
the freedom to seek truth; the truth that sets us free

Little Turkey Craft

I’ve been a little obsessed with Pinterest lately. Some days I manage to waste all kinds of time, but most days it actually inspires creativity.  It’s also inspired a few trips to Michael’s with coupons in hand. J

I was looking for a fun craft to do with my nieces this weekend, so I created this project after seeing several holiday craft posts but not finding exactly what I wanted. I had to do most of the work, but we definitely had fun.

Here are the little Turkeys from left to right: Gabi, Bella, and Lili

Supplies I used:
11x14 Canvas (you can use smaller or bigger depending on the number of handprints)
Craft paints (I get the $.59 acrylics)
1 Large and 1 Small paint brush
Scroll and letter stencils
Small brown Sharpie
Paper plate


Step 1. Collect your materials and choose your paint colors. I used a mustard yellow, vanilla, tan, burnt orange, and espresso.

Step 2. I covered the canvas in vanilla paint using a large angled brush, using horizontal strokes. Then I added some of the tan color in the corners.  With both vertical and horizontal strokes, it gave the canvas an aged look. I added a few of these same strokes in the middle of the canvas. Don't forget to paint the sides!

Step 3. Using a scroll stencil, paint the top corners. (you can trace and then paint, but it seemed more efficient to paint directly over the stencil). I used mostly brown, but added other colors for more texture and variety.

Step 4. If you are right handed, make sure to paint the left side first so you don't run your hand through the wet paint.  

Step 5. Trace or paint over your stencils to write Happy Thanksgiving, or whatever message you choose. It's easiest if you have clear stencils (like my blue one above) so you can see where you are tracing them. If using pencil, write lightly as it doesn't erase. If you make any big mistakes, wait for the paint to dry and paint over it again. Remember that it doesn't have to be perfect, it's partly a kid project!

Step 6. Once the paint is dry, pour some of each color (except the white/vanilla) onto a paper plate. I poured more of the espresso as I wanted it to be the color for the turkey's body. The other colors were placed above for the fingers/feathers.

Step 7. To avoid a mess, it's best to guide your child's hand into the paint and then onto the canvas. We did two canvases for this project, so we re-dipped the hand for the second canvas. We went directly to the sink to wash off before the next Turkey got their turn.

Step 8. Add feet, beaks, eyes and the red gobbler thing that hangs down (anyone got the real name for that?). You can also add each child's name with a skinny brown Sharpie.  As a side note, I'm considering going back to add "From 3 Little Turkeys" under the Happy Thanksgiving message. 

Thanks for joining me on my first craft blog! Let me know if you try this out- I would love to hear how it goes.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!