Rejoice

Breathe. Inspire. Imagine. Kingdom. They are words I've seen all over the blog world in the last month or two - words people have chosen to focus on, words that will hopefully shape 2013.

I've never been able to come up with just a word for my year - far be it from me to be so succinct - but I did find something of my own to focus on, something to shape my heart and mind this year.

This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. (Psalm 118:24) 

2013 slipped into being as a season of in between, of waiting. And since I've never been good at the waiting, it would be far too easy to ignore the now, crane my neck and desperately hope for a glimpse of what is to come.

Seeing this verse in the infant days of January was a stark reminder tomorrow is not promised. Now is a gift - one He carefully crafted and saw fit to give. Every moment is sacred and rejoicing in each as it happens is its own kind of worship.

It hasn't always been easy. In fact, for the last couple of weeks it was a little difficult  as I long for spring in the midst of a cold and rainy winter.

But a few days ago, the neighborhood woke under a blanket of white and His splendor was in the sunrise and I saw as plain as day that His mercies are new every morning.

For that one day, seeing the gift came as easily as breathing. This is the day the Lord has made. I WILL rejoice and be glad!

So I suppose I do have one word for this year after all. And after thinking on it for eight weeks, it only took writing one post to figure it out.

Rejoice.

Dear Me...

Dear Eighteen-Year-Old Me,

It feels a little weird to write to you since most of the time I still feel like you instead of the adult I am supposed to be. Truth be told, sometimes I even feel like I'm still her...

And though I'm only eight years older than you, a lot of life has been lived in these eight years - some good, some bad, some hard and some so scary you can barely breathe for all the fear and desperation. But you're getting ready to graduate from high school and you're about to experience it all first-hand so it only seemed fair to tell you a thing or two - you know, a little heads up.

I could tell you about keeping in touch with those three girls you spend all your time with. Or how your mom is going to become your best friend. Or not to be afraid to love the boy you are dating - because when you finally let him in all the way you'll never regret it for a moment.

But there's something that matters even more right now. Remember that prediction you had to write about your future at the end of your senior year? Remember how you really thought you were well on your way to making it come true?

Life looks nothing like that today.

In a few months, you're going to go to a big, prestigious university and you're going to realize just how ordinary you are. You are going to feel small while you watch people around you do great, life-changing, world-impacting things. That's going to continue right into your post-college, young-adult, newly-married life. And there will be a couple years where you'll wonder if God forgot about you, if He was too busy writing everyone else's plans for a future and a hope to bother with yours.

But here's the thing: you know that great big fear you have - the one of losing your dad? You're going to have to face it in the next eight years. Twice. And you're going to wonder whether God's going to save him, but you'll learn that Jesus is enough for you even if He doesn't.

So remember that in those years of wondering and wandering about your purpose. Remember Jesus is enough even without any promises or guarantees. Carry that with you until the day you realize you've been created for God's glory. Because that, my seemingly purposeless self, is what He planned for you.

And big or small, whatever you're doing should bring Him honor, which means you should do it with all your heart. It seems crazy to tell an over-acheiving, rule-following good girl to do things with all her heart, but here's the deal: you can only truly do things with all your heart when your heart is hidden in the One who made it. So abide in Him. Every moment. Always.

Only then - when your soul has found deep and lasting satisfaction in Him alone - will you see that ordinary doesn't mean unimportant and the simple life you lead really does matter. 

Just one more thing: get over yourself a little sooner, would ya? When you move to a big, new city with your Hubby, you're going to spend a full year and a half feeling so lonely you'll wonder if you are invisible. And you'll spend so much time wondering if anyone will ever notice you that you'll almost miss the equally lonely people around you.

At some point, it's going to hit you - you are the one who could do something about their loneliness. And making people feel like they belong is going to breathe new life into you. 

If you remember nothing else I tell you remember this - when things are falling apart in your head, when it feels like your world is unraveling (because that will happen a lot) know that Jesus is before all things and in Him all things hold together. And let His peace rule in your heart. Life's just better that way.

With so much love and joy,

Twenty-Six-Year-Old You

Today I'm joining Emily and the Chatting at the Sky community in the adventure of letter-writing to our teenage selves in celebration of the release of Emily's new book, Graceful. Read more or join us, here. 

The Yard Chronicles: Part Two

To pick up where I left off in our yard chronicles, we had the landscaping plan in hand and we were ready to get to work. And let me tell you, work we did.

My parents graciously came down to visit for a few days, and I am so glad they did. Their advice and their help on the yard were priceless.

Step one in a landscaping project? Clear out the old stuff, of course. Everything but the mature trees and the grass was ripped out. Bushes, holly trees, endless amounts liriope. It all had. to. go.

And while it was repetitive and monotonous and exhausting work, pulling everything out was the easy part.

It's amazing how different the house looked when we were done. 

With the beds cleared, the backbreaking work really started. Step two of the project had multiple parts - trenching and laying underground drainage pipes to carry rainwater away from the house; widening and tilling the beds; clearing out giant roots.

This part? It was slow going, which was discouraging. But thanks to a good friend, Hubby still had some help after my parents left and the three of us took Labor Day literally.

Slowly and steadily, progress was made and before we knew it, the roots were gone and the piping was finally laid.

Next comes the fun part: the new plants!

The Yard Chronicles: Part One

When we first looked at our house nearly two years ago (!), I was pretty drawn to the mature landscape - the grown up trees, the lovely bushes, the stretch of urban woods (not real woods cause, you know, we're in the city) in the backyard.

It was lovely. Really, it was.

But after moving in and living here for a bit, I noticed the bushes were covering half our windows and most were dying from blight anyway. The hollies on the side of the house were absolutely unruly with roots precariously close to the foundation. And did I mention the leader pipes off the gutters were dumping oceans of water directly into the beds, flooding them any time it rained hard?

So in July we decided it was time to do something about all that, but had no idea what. Enter the landscape architect. Three weeks after we walked through our yard talking with him about how we use the space and what we want it to be like, he showed up with a beautifully drawn plan.

This thing was worth every penny. It tells us exactly how to shape our beds, precisely what kinds of plants to plant, how many plants to plant and where to plant them. A visionless rule-follower's dream (just kidding....sort of).

With this gorgeous thing in hand, it was time to set to work. But this story is already getting a bit long (it's not called the yard chronicles for nothing), so we'll save the play-by-play for tomorrow.

I'll just leave you with a little before picture. And trust me - at this very moment, my house looks nothing like this anymore.

For A Tuesday

If you've spent any time in church or around church people, these are verses you've probably heard at least once if not over and over.

In some ways it's feels a little redundant to share them again for your Tuesday morning. But as I watched the sun seep into the sky and peer through the trees this morning, I couldn't get them out of my head. The words felt real and alive and good.

So I will write them here. Because this is truth, and we can always use a little truth.

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope. The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. (Lamentations 3:21-23, ESV)

For When You're Craving September

I opened the hall closet door yesterday, dog bowl in hand, to scoop Izzie's dinner out of the big bag we keep in there. Usually I'm assaulted by the overwhelming scent of Purina One, but yesterday hints of apple and spice and cinnamon danced with the smell of kibble.

After a bit of digging through what's become the catch-all space, I found this hiding high up on the top shelf.

A mulled cider candle from Wal-Mart. It's no Harvest candle (which I can sniff out anywhere), but I'm surprised I hadn't noticed it in there before.

I suppose it means I'm craving September more and more these days, which is pretty true. For as much as she snuck up on me last year, I'm eagerly waiting to receive her with open hands this time around.

Sweaters and jeans and cooler weather and football and the warmth of a pot pie on the dinner plate. Mmmmm. I'm certainly looking forward to those things.

Soon, friends. They are coming very soon.

Memories on the Wall

We've lived in this house for almost two years now (two years!!), and until a couple weeks ago had little on our walls aside from some framed scrapbook paper in our kitchen and our entryway. Lovely little touches - really - but totally impersonal.

 So we finally got a notion to hang all the frames that had been laying on our living room/library floor. And our desk space went from plain to a little prettier in about an hour.

Most of the frames still hold their stock photos, but I think I'm going to take my time filling them. I have a friend whose walls show off family memorabilia and street art bought on their many trips. And I like that idea.

We've started on that a bit already. The three main pieces hanging over the desk came from our trip to Italy last fall. These two prints were found on a piazza in Rome.

But so far my favorite is the little oil painting we bought in a store hugging the cliffs of the Italian coast in Sorrento.

I see this, and I'm reminded of the fishing boats lining the marina and strolling the narrow streets in the chilly November air. I remember the steaming bowl of the most delicious tomato soup I've ever tasted and I feel the the cold Mediterranean tickling my toes (because what kind of trip to the shore would it be without at least putting your feet in?).

It might take a while to finish this little gallery, but I think making walls pretty with the memories of life lived and places seen will absolutely be worth the wait.