He's from Georgia, I'm from Colorado, and we met in Greece. Our married life began in Seattle; our family life continues in Denver, with our son Oliver and our daughter Margaret. We're a family learning the Lord's goodness, faithfulness, and love.
This was our first summer in Colorado and it felt wonderfully long. We had the joy of afternoon thunderstorms, outings at the splash pad, and weekends at the cabin. Our marriage turned a sweet leaf and our family became four. Despite our new arrival to the city, our weeks were busy with socializing and activity. This was the summer of 2018 (May—August).
Our Family
This was the summer we welcomed Seattle visitors, enjoying a reunion of sorts with the Wrights at the Grand Lake cabin and jaunting around Denver with the McGinnises. It was the summer of concerts in the park and evenings at the splash pad, with ice cream in hand. It was the summer we loved being at the shore with East coast family and the summer Uncle Garrett came to hang—and so did Aunt Steph and Uncle Greg. It was the summer we said goodbye to both our childhood homes. It was the summer we took Oliver to The Bay, whooping down water slides for hours. It was the summer my grandfather passed, who took me to The Bay as a girl. It was the summer we enjoyed ramen in the company of the Matthews and 7:30 a.m. biscuits with the Teewuens. It was the summer of Oreos and dark chocolate, our post-Whole30 treats, and it was the summer where I surprised Kyle at work—twice!—for a date. It was the summer of weekends with Nana and Papa Chuck at the cabin in Grand Lake and our inaugural Boyd-Rudkin cabin stay. It was the summer we submitted offers on two houses and weren’t able to celebrate calling either one of them “home.” It was the summer we solidified our church search and consistently met with new friends.Â
Kyle
This was the summer of Kyle’s early morning bike rides, in prep for his annual touring trip with Alex. It was the summer he read The Lord of the Rings trilogy and re-read A Wrinkle In Time. It was the summer he habitually grilled hamburgers on the roof deck and had the best of intentions in building a wooden table for our balcony.
Maisie
This was the summer she giggled and laughed. It was the summer she quickly outgrew all her clothing, representing a 90th percentile baby well. It was the summer she slept through the night at least once and the summer she consistently rotated 90 or even 180 degrees in her crib thanks to those always-kicking feet. It was the summer she found her hands and had to chew on them constantly to calm those gums from incoming teeth. It was the summer she spent in tummy time and in the Ergo to help calm her momma’s worries about a flat head. It was the summer of so much poop. It was the summer she slept in the corner of our room with a pink ribbon above her crib.Â
Beth
This was the summer of planned and weekly meals, almost Whole30 compliant. It was the summer I read East of Eden and started Testament of Youth. It was the summer I lead a women’s Bible study and coordinated playdates. It was the summer I had energy to run and bike and stretch and strengthen my body in the 5 a.m. hour. It was the summer of so many creative ideas and never enough time to accomplish them. It was the summer I discovered the cleaning power of Fels-Naptha.
Oliver
This was the summer of growing up for Oliver. It was the summer of bike lessons in the hallway and outings biking around the city. It was the summer of “you have such strong legs!” and “you are so fast!” and learning how to brake. It was the summer of his sweet sayings like “yum of the yum!” and “hope you enjoy making honey, bees!” It was the summer of crossing off successes and doling out sweet rewards and buying Thomas underwear all because “I peed!” and “I pooped!” It was the summer where our hearts grew to swelling with pride over our son for how he is growing. It was the summer of story time with Evelyn at Tattered Cover and enjoying the gummy snacks that always followed. It was the summer of playing soccer in the kitchen and Oliver really getting a groove for hitting the ball. It was the summer where we learned he can recite the book Planes word-for-word with 98 percent accuracy. It was the summer of waiting and watching for daddy on the balcony, reading stories to pass the time, and then waving and racing to meet him when he popped up the elevator. It was the summer of standing, mesmerized, at his bedroom window while watching moving trucks and mail trucks and firetrucks do their jobs. It was the summer of racing to the window at the first rumble of a trash truck or fork lift and watching until it passed out of sight. It was the summer of story time with Joan and learning how to follow along with dances, sit on our ladybug pillow, and make a craft. It was the summer we wrote letters to our Seattle buddies and the summer Oliver learned how to open the mailbox with the key all on his own. It was the summer Oliver learned to (almost) dress himself but also learned how to (mostly) undress himself. This was the summer he exchanged his high chair for a normal chair at our kitchen table.
Mid-drive to a family function and post morning fruit-and-grain bar, I turned to Kyle and said, “My stomach hurts. It’s all crampy.” In the next 30 seconds we spontaneously decided: we’re starting Whole30 next week. It’s true that in the weeks prior I had been having some stomach cramps come up randomly and Kyle has always had trouble consuming dairy. We also thought it might be helpful for me to cut dairy while nursing our daughter, Maisie, since our son, Oliver, has a dairy allergy. So with that limited amount of decision making, we thought we’d just go crazy and try Whole30.
For any who are interested, here’s how we did it, what we learned, my new favorite recipes, a few Whole30 resources, and how we’re eating now. (Be warned: this is long.)
½ Flirty: How We Did Whole30
I wasn’t faithful to the Whole30 program; I flirted with some foods that were on the “do not eat” list. Since I started Whole30 one month postpartum with my second child, I wanted to make sure I was eating healthy for my body as I recovered and healthy for my baby as I nursed. A little bit of research taught me that whole grains do a lot for your milk production, so instead of sticking to the Whole30 rules, I kept whole grains in my diet. While on Whole30, my whole grains included: old-fashioned oats, whole grain bread, and whole grain and/or wild rice.
I also kept beans in my diet because I reasoned “they’re just beans!” I also kept honey in my diet; first because I didn’t know it was to be cut from your diet, but once I found out it wasn’t supposed to be eaten, I again reasoned “it’s just honey!”
Kyle (except for a slip-up or two) stayed true to the Whole30 rules.
Breakfast
Kyle had scrambled eggs with ham, peppers, spinach, and green onion. My breakfast was scrambled eggs with peppers, spinach, and green onion with a slice of whole grain bread with coconut oil.
Lunch
Kyle had leftovers from dinner. I had what I termed a “salad sandwich”: homemade mayo (I know, Whole30, ug), green leaf lettuce, spinach, cucumbers, avocado, and sea salt between two slices of whole grain bread. Sometimes I had it with turkey (breaking the rules) and sometimes I had it with a mashed up hard-boiled egg, but mostly I had just the veggies.
Dinner
Our successful dinners rotated through these meals (I’ve included recipes later in this post):
Bun-less burgers topped with lettuce, avocado, and sugar-free ketchup served with a side of roasted veggies (potatoes, sweet potatoes, carrots)
Aidell’s Chicken and Apple Sausage served over roasted veggies (carrots, peppers, broccoli, and peas) with whole grain and wild rice
Italian meatballs with tomato sauce served over butternut squash noodles with a side salad packed with veggies and homemade dressing
Marinated chicken served with roasted veggies (carrots, broccoli, peppers, potatoes)
Snacks
I had a morning snack of my own homemade granola (see below for recipe) topped with frozen blueberries in coconut milk. In the afternoon and/or evening, I’d have a snack of sliced apple dipped in sunbutter (we are a peanut-free and tree-nut free household, as Oliver has peanut and tree nut allergies) and topped with raisins.
Some Whole30 participants claimed that RX Bars and Bare Chips were essentials. We didn’t want to buy these, largely because of the cost, but also because of the mentality you have while eating them: they still feel like a processed snack for when you just want to munch. We wanted to avoid that habit. We only ate an RX Bar once—on a drive home from the mountains when we were starving—and we actually didn’t like it.
Dessert
After dinner we would have dates and apple juice. It was surprisingly satisfying.
What We Learned
Kyle completed Whole30 in order to test which foods upset his stomach (especially to see how much of a trigger dairy was). I completed Whole30 to relieve my stomach of odd cramps and to see if cutting dairy while nursing would be helpful for Maisie (saw no change there good or bad), but also to remind myself that food is not all my comfort and all my joy. I love sweets and I really enjoy eating, but I wanted to gain self-control over my eating habits and overall enjoy the energy (momma of two here!) and image benefits that eating real food can bring to your body. Overall, we learned:
What Are Feelings, Anyway?
Despite the day-by-day breakdown of how you’ll be feeling on the program, we actually stayed afloat with no noticeable ups or downs—aside from me experiencing some stomach cramps about halfway through, which I contributed to eating too much meat, which I then cut back on. Sadly, Kyle saw no difference in how he felt off of dairy. We took away that we must have been eating pretty healthy prior to the program, and I think we were.
Make Veggies A Big Deal
We learned to incorporate veggies whenever possible—peppers and spinach in scrambled eggs, butternut squash noodles on spaghetti night—and to just constantly ask: how can I incorporate more veggies?
Serve Fruit As Dessert
Waiting to eat fruit until the end of the meal made it more fun, and we also ate more than we would if it had been a side with dinner.
A Satisfied Full (Kinda)
I was happy to feel a satisfied full after meals, while Kyle, well, not so much.
Team Up
We found it was really fun to be doing something new together. Experiencing this as a team was great for our friendship and our marriage.
Meal Planning Made Easy
For me, meal planning on Whole30 was really easy: grill or cook a meat + roast some veggies = done. It helped me to simplify my meals and to eliminate the brainpower and time it takes to make sauces, casseroles, etc. It made grocery shopping easier, too! I love cooking, but in this season of life with two little ones, less time in the kitchen is a win for everyone.
Sweets Should Be Sweet: Watch for Hidden Sugars
Sugar is hidden in so many condiments, sauces, marinades, dressings, and other cooking items. I learned to read labels and not purchase items if sugar was included when we thought it wasn’t needed. Sugar-free ketchup actually tastes great!
Don’t Eat Cheap Grains
Graham crackers, Ritz, fruit-and-grain bars, cereals: these are all cheap grains in the sense that they don’t fill you up. It’s amazing how many times prior to Whole30 I would have just a little bit of Oliver’s cheap grain snacks during my everyday. I’ve learned to veer away from those in my diet and to keep them as a much less frequent snack in Oliver’s. The good news is he loves apples and sunbutter just as much as his momma. :)
People Are More Important Than Food
The rules of the Whole30 program will tell you otherwise, but let’s remember that food is just food and people are, well, people. Maintaining a healthy relationship with your friends and family is more important that sticking to diet rules. This is why I still ate whole grains and why in the future I’m not going to let guilt creep in when my food expectations take a turn in the name of a healthy relationship—be it nursing my daughter or enjoying a dessert at a family celebration.
People Relate to Food In Different Ways
Kyle doesn’t crave food and really doesn’t think about it except when food is placed in front of him. He eats what he is served and doesn’t daydream about what to have at the next meal. I wish I was like that! I think about food a lot. I really like to eat and I love sweets. For me, completing Whole30 helped to show me how to eat healthy, how to control food cravings, how to indulge, and how to just let it go sometimes and stop thinking about food so much.
How We Eat Now: Guidelines
The most frustrating thing about Whole30 is that it isn't a diet you should live on. It honestly makes me feel ridiculous for even doing it in the first place, as you should be eating grains. It is fine to eat dairy. Sugar isn’t a no-never-not-ever food. Now that we’ve been off Whole30 for almost three months, here’s what we’re eating.
Choose When To Indulge: Sweets
I learned that off of Whole30, I should strive to make treats a treat. In the diet of my dreams, I would love to have two servings of dessert every night, but that isn’t healthy. What is healthy is to choose when to indulge. I have a printed calendar of the year taped to the inside of my kitchen cabinet. I’ve circled the days when I’ll be indulging in sweets—holidays, birthdays, bridal and baby showers, weddings, friends in town, date nights, vacations—it’s amazing how it all adds up. There are plenty of days when I’ll be enjoying sweets! And the big bonus there is that I’m enjoying sweets in the company of loved ones, which is a simple way to help bring joy to relationships. And if life contains a surprise—like homegrown cherries gifted to us by a co-worker last week—then I gratefully make a cherry pie, invite friends over, and enjoy that treat of a day I wasn’t expecting.
Yes: Whole Grains
We now buy whole grains: oats, whole grain pasta and rice, and whole grain bread.
No: Cheap Grains
We really are steering clear of cereal, crackers, graham crackers, chips, and the like. Will we eat a s’more with friends? Yes. Crackers as appetizers at a wedding, shower, or holiday? For sure. These are not “don’t eat” foods for us but rather “don’t buy” foods for us—or, buy as minimally as possible.
Choose When To Indulge: Baked Goods
I have an amazing recipe for honey rolls and every time I make them, the compliments abound. My husband has grown up loving pancakes and biscuits. I also love to bake! So instead of cutting these delicious carbs out of our diet, we’ve kept them in moderation. Knowing that we are “only” eating whole grains, we really are aware of when we indulge in a good roll, breakfast item, or baked good. And we enjoy it all the more.
Yes: Fruits and Veggies
We are still eating loads of veggies, incorporating them in our main dishes and as large sides, and aim to keep that going. The best barometer is at dinner: do I have a pan of veggies roasting in the oven as a side? We have fruits throughout the day, making those our snacks instead of cheap grains, and also have fruit after dinner.
Choose When To Indulge: Cheese
I realized that the cheese I was buying was so...flavorless. I’d rather save the money I was spending on cheap cheese and instead indulge in a lovely hunk of parmesan for a special pasta night or Flagship Beecher’s Cheddar to serve with crisp apples when friends come over. Not eating the cheap cheese—in my sandwiches, on top of my eggs, in my spaghetti, or on my taco—is honestly not missed flavor-wise. And now I can see why people love cheese so much; when you buy a quality piece, it really does feel decadent.
Yes: Coconut Oil
While we still buy butter, we use it way less frequently. Instead of butter on toast and rice, we use coconut oil. It’s even great on biscuits!
Grateful Eaters
Above all, we want our attitudes to be of gratitude toward a meal, and to know that all this silliness about food is a first world concern. What happens when food is served to us that falls outside of our healthy rules? It was served to us—we eat it with a thankful heart and enjoy!
How We Eat Now: Meals
Meal planning and grocery shopping is extremely easy for me now. I have an Excel spreadsheet with the items we buy and what day of the week we are eating each meal. In the grocery store, I hardly pass through the middle aisles, which makes for a less hectic trip.
Breakfast
We have scrambled eggs and whole grain toast with coconut oil. I will have a morning snack of homemade granola topped with frozen blueberries in coconut milk.
Lunch
Kyle still has leftovers. I will have my salad sandwich as described above or leftovers as well.
Snack
Once or even twice a day I’ll have a sliced apple with sunbutter and raisins. Our grocery story has a great deal of five apples for $2, so we stock. up.
Dinner
We rotate through these meals each week:
Chicken salad on whole wheat bread with lettuce and sliced cucumber served with veggies
Marinated chicken with honey rolls (choosing to indulge here) and veggie-packed salad with homemade dressing
Aidell’s Chicken and Apple Sausage served over roasted veggies with whole grain and wild rice with a touch of coconut oil
Italian meatballs served over a mix of whole grain spaghetti and butternut squash noodles with homemade tomato sauce and a side of roasted carrots
Pancakes (choosing to indulge here, with butter and a healthy-ish version of maple syrup as well) served with veggie-loaded scrambled eggs
Kielbasa with whole grain rice and beans served with veggies or a salad
Burgers with whole grain buns and sugar-free ketchup served with roasted veggies, salad, and homemade baked beans
Tacos (seasoned ground beef) with black beans, onion, and bell pepper served with roasted sweet potatoes and red bell peppers, lettuce, green onion, and sour cream on a corn hardshell
In the past, I’ve rotated through what I call “seasonal meals”: a set of meals that fit the season. The meals above work well for summer, but I’ll switch most of these out for more fall-inspired meals come September. I’ll try to post those once the season rolls around!
Dessert
Most nights we will have one or more of these: fruit, dates, apple or orange juice, and a sliced apple with sunbutter and raisins. For a sweet, Kyle has whatever he likes—mostly Oreos. I enjoy one square of dark chocolate with a half glass of milk. The desire for sugar is strong in me, and this is really helping to maintain a healthy balance.
Recipes
Beth’s Burger Seasoning (for four patties)
1 tsp. each of salt, pepper, garlic powder, dill, and chives
Grill.
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Italian Meatballs
1 lb. ground beef
1 egg
1/2 tsp. garlic powder
1 Tbs. parsley
salt and pepper
Roll into a dozen balls and bake at 400 for ~20 minutes.
_______________
Tomato Sauce
1 14.5 oz. can of crushed tomatoes
1/2 tsp. garlic powder
1 Tbs. Italian seasoning
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Marinated Chicken (for five breasts, sliced lengthwise for a thinner cut)
Coat breasts with equal parts salt, pepper, and thyme, then marinate in:
1/2 cup olive oil
1/4 cup lemon juice
2 Tbs. dijon mustard
2 Tbs. honey
Cook on stovetop. Freeze remaining breasts. Reheat in oven, wrapped in foil.
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Beth’s Granola
Mix:
1 cup old-fashioned oats
1/4 cup sunflower seeds
1 tsp. chia seeds
Then coat with:
1 Tbs. coconut oil
1/4 cup honey
1 tsp. vanilla
Bake at 350 until golden, ~10 minutes. Then mix in:
1/2 cup raisins
1/2 cup unsweetened coconut flakes
Best enjoyed when topped with frozen blueberries in coconut milk.
We are thrilled to welcome Margaret “Maisie” Ann Boyd to our family! She was born on April 18 at 12:31 p.m., weighing 8 lbs. 6 oz. and measuring 21″ long. A week overdue to the day, she was worth the wait. Her birth was smooth and uncomplicated; we are so thankful for God’s graciousness to us in how He crafted bringing her into this world!
For our kids, we select a verse and a hymn for them.
Verse
The name Margaret means “pearl,” so our verse for her is Matthew 13:44–46.
“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up. Then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls, who, on finding one pearl of great value, went and sold all that he had and bought it.”
We pray Margaret would see and understand Jesus as the greatest treasure—that in knowing Him she would joyfully see everything else as a fleeting treasure.
Hymn
Margaret Ann is the fourth generation of Ann! The name Ann means “grace,” so we selected the hymn Come Thou Fount. We sing this to her as she goes to sleep at night.
Come, Thou Fount of every blessing
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace
Streams of mercy, never ceasing
Call for songs of loudest praise
Teach me some melodious sonnet
Sung by flaming tongues above
Praise the mount, I'm fixed upon it
Mount of Thy redeeming love
Nickname
Margaret has so many nicknames (Maggie, Meg, Peggy, Margo, Marge, and more) that we decided to select a nickname for her. Maisie is a lesser-known nickname, but is a sweet name we thought fit a little girl. We call her both Margaret and Maisie interchangeably. As she grows, she will always have the classic and beautiful name of Margaret.
Margaret has a calm and content temperament and is a complete bundle of joy. We are completely in love and so thankful for her life!
This is part three in a three-part series to document our life as a family of three—before our little girl joins us in April 2018! Read part one here and part two here.
No commentary needed—just a random sampling of photos that document our life now (in Colorado!), as a family of three in anticipation of adding family member number four.
This is part three in a three-part series to document our life as a family of three—before our little girl joins us in April 2018! Read part one here and part two here.
Just the Three of Us | Part 2: Seattle Family Photos
March 31, 2018
This is part two in a three-part series to document our life as a family of three—before our little girl joins us in April 2018! Read part one here and part three here.
In October of 2017, Kyle indulged me with the gift of family photos. We knew our time in Seattle was likely coming to a close, so we headed to Myrtle Edwards Park on what seemed like the last dry day of the year with a photographer in tow.
These photos are a complete treasure to me. Our time in Seattle was extremely special, but the last season of living with Oliver in Lower Queen Anne was especially top notch. How thankful I am for those days!
Here are just a sampling of Kate Van Amringe’s wonderful work, capturing our life as a family of three—with one photo nod to our little girl on the way.
So incredibly thankful.
This is part two in a three-part series to document our life as a family of three—before our little girl joins us in April 2018! Read part one here and part three here.
This is part one in a three-part series to document our life as a family of three—before our little girl joins us in April 2018! Read part two here and part three here.
In the bleak, gray month of February last year, I yearned for the sun. I started researching a summer family vacation that would take us from Seattle to San Fransisco, camping along the coast the whole way down. Many Google searches and Excel spreadsheets later, our trip was booked and we watched the calendar in anticipation for August to come around.
We knew, even in February, that 2017 may very well be our last summer in the Pacific Northwest (and it was), so we wanted to soak. it. all. in. Below is a brief recap of our trip—a very short recap, considering how long our trip was, how much there is to share, and how long-winded I can tend to be. We stayed one night at each location before the luxury of two nights at an Airbnb in San Fransisco. Though everything went smoothly, I still learned a lot about planning a camping trip as well as just a family vacation in general. I likely won’t plan another vacation that involves camping for eight nights straight, but I am so glad we did it.
We weren’t intending to film so much of our trip, but inspiration hit us as our wheels hit the road. If you like, watch and enjoy our 20 minute recap. (I know! Twenty minutes!)
Day 1: KOA Port Angeles, WA
Our first night was at a KOA in Port Angeles for one very good reason: test out our camping supplies—did we forget anything? And, yes, we did. We forgot a whole bag of things. While it was a disappointment to start the trip off this way, we were thankful for the back-up plan and ease of driving to Walmart (twice) to replenish our supply. We also stayed here in order to pick up our permit and bear canister for our second night of camping.
Day 2: Second Beach in La Push, WA
We were pumped for this camping site, as you had to backpack in to set up tent on the beach. When we arrived, it was raining. We made ponchos out of trash bags and giggled our way down the mile trail. We made the best of it, and even though we never really had blue skies, it was a treat to experience.
Day 3: Ocean City State Park, WA
By all accounts, this was a fine campground: nothing extremely wonderful, yet nothing extremely disappointing. Though it did have a long walk to the beach (so that could be either wonderful or disappointing, depending on your preference).
Day 4: Nehalem Bay State Park, OR
This was Kyle’s favorite camping spot and it featured the most beautiful beach. A bonus was that this campground had a playground, and we stayed right next to it. We woke up early from this location in order to make it down to the totality zone for the solar eclipse. We were bummed that it was cloudy, but even with the haze, it was exciting to witness.
Pro tip: free hot showers at all Oregon State Parks!
Day 5: Jessie M. Honeyman State Park, OR
This was Beth’s favorite camping spot. It featured tall trees, sand dunes, and an overall family-friendly feel. A sweet surprise was renting paddle boats on the lake!
Day 6: Jedediah Smith Campground, CA
We stayed at two campgrounds in the Redwoods of California, and this was by far the better of the two. The river was great company to those towering pines, and I believe there were several walking trails directly from the campground.
Day 7: Humboldt Redwoods State Park, CA
We were disappointed with this campground. We didn’t even snap any photos! A small grouping of campsites placed between the main road and the homes of forest rangers didn’t make for an impressive Redwoods stay. But oh well!
Day 8: Gualala Point Campground, CA
Queue my breaking point. By night eight I was so over camping and begged Kyle to let us just explore the nearest town. We wandered the aisles of two grocery stores, sampled fruit, and bought postcards. It was just what my heart needed. We still had hotdogs for dinner and made a fire, but I was anxiously awaiting our Airbnb bed in San Fransisco. Also, nothing noteworthy about this campsite either (clearly—no photos at this site either), except that we made friends with our neighbors and finally aired out our stinky car that had been reeking for days due to a mysterious spill early on in the trip (thanks for solving that, Kyle!).
Day 9 and 10: AirBNB in San Fransisco, CA
Our Airbnb hosts were wonderful. They graciously allowed us to do loads of laundry (I was so thankful!) and recommended a yummy dumpling restaurant. We had a full day and a half to explore San Fransisco and our Saturday morning adventure was pure bliss. We loved exploring the touristy parts of the city (Fisherman’s Wharf, Chinatown, Golden Gate Park, Lombard Street, Ghirardelli Square) and I enjoyed my first taste of In N’ Out (Kyle enjoyed a meal there twice). I will forever remember our sunny Saturday morning in San Fransisco as one of the sweetest family memories we’ve made yet.
What a trip!
This is part one in a three-part series to document our life as a family of three—before our little girl joins us in April 2018! Read part two here and part three here.
I’ve been thinking about home and what the comfort of that idea means.
After six years in Seattle, we’ve decided to move to Denver. This was something we pursued and for a variety of reasons, but that does not negate the hardship of saying goodbye to a city and friends we love. I’ve been crying over the loss of a home here that—biblically, I must remind myself, with closed eyes and a heavy sigh—was never my true, real, forever home. In reality, this home was a fleeting comfort.
Over a few weeks this December, we’ve been posting furniture to Craigslist and selling items that hold memories for negotiated rates. We’ve been packing up boxes while Oliver plays with cars atop the taped lids.
I’ve been thinking logically, practically, “What do we need the least? What to pack first?”
I’ve been thinking lovingly, truthfully, “How do we explain to Oliver that we are moving? How will he understand that his home and friends are no longer within his grasp?”
I’ve been challenged to think biblically, eternally, “Where is my home? What do I place my comfort in?”
These thoughts swirl around my head as I reach for the brown bag of packing supplies. Color-coded duct tape has become a household staple these weeks. I unroll, place, press, rip, and seal. Oliver uses these rolls for “wrist watches” and improvised stacking toys to build rainbow towers.
“So tall!” I tell him.
And other times, “Oh nooo!” we exclaim together, as it topples.
My mind swirls again. I must be reminded that heaven is our home—not this apartment in Lower Queen Anne with all the pleasures it brings to every sphere of our lives. It is good for my heart to remember that everything we have will be taken away. Only our souls remain. We are, in part this December, intentionally shedding and letting go of the things that would be taken away from us anyway. We’re jumping the gun a bit, and it’s painful. This is a small version of death.
This may sound dramatic, but don’t let it. It is not dramatic. It is, after all, truth. I’ve been realizing that if we do not let these everyday moments and life milestones—the transitions and changes that life brings—point us to heavenly truth, then what is the point? What purpose does living provide if not in all the joys and trials we lift our hearts, minds, and yearnings toward Christ who proclaimed that, ”If anyone loves me, he will obey my teaching. My Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him.” (John 14:23) Christ has made His home in us, and so our home is not in anything else but in Him. And He cannot be taken away from us, nor us from Him. Christ promises that, “I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my Father’s hand.” (John 10:28) And so wherever we go and settle, wherever we lay down or rise up, we are at home in Christ. We will never lose or leave our home in Him. Our temporary wanderings on this earth only increase our desire for the sweetness and security of forever that eternal heaven will bring.
2 Corinthians 5:1
For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.
And who else is in this eternal home with us? Why else have I been weeping at the loss of our home? My tears have sprung from the knowledge that we are moving away from those who we hold so dear: our friends, eternal in Christ.
The friends who welcomed us into their home early on moving day so we could exchange goodbye gifts and prayers and thankfulness for one another—the same ones who offered us their huge cardboard box for last minute packing needs (and relocated their secret stash of Christmas presents to do so).
The friends who spent five hours moving our things down four flights of stairs and into the moving truck.
The friend who rearranged her work schedule so she could help us move.
The friend who brought packing supplies, bubble wrap, and a computer box from an office clean out.
The friend who brought along her little girl on moving day so Oliver had a playmate and provided kid watch amidst boxes—playing with cars, having a snack, watching Thomas, reading books—all so we could focus on the task at hand.
The friends who told you their favorite memories of you, in text and in person.
The friend who walked over on her lunch break to say goodbye and came bearing a bag of snacks for the airplane.
The friend who rushed from work via Uber to catch us for a last goodbye, a letter, and a photo.
The friend who took our forgotten library books so she can return them for us on time.
The friends who drove us to the hotel the night before our flight, staying for a farewell dinner at Denny’s (to bookend how we began our Seattle adventure).
These friends are eternal good gifts from our eternal good Father. I remind myself of this as we pack late into the night several times, Elf and Home Alone keeping us company.Â
Christmas is an ironic time to move. As Christmas day draws near, our walls become more bare. There are no chestnuts roasting on an open fire here. Our decorations remain in their boxes from last Christmas, so we are not creating a home for the holidays. Instead of getting cozy in the comforts of home, we are shuffling boxes around, selling furniture, and packing a moving truck.
Yet, Christmas is an appropriate time to move. Does the process of leaving the comfort of home not bring to mind the reality that Christ at Christmas left his perfectly comfortable heavenly home for us? For something not so great. For our sin. For death. But ultimately, for eternal relationship with us.
John 14:1–7
“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also. And you know the way to where I am going.” Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”
God in His goodness orchestrated the timing of our move to be just as Christmas arrives, in part to show our family more clearly how deep His love is for us: for Christ to leave His home, for Christ to make His home in us, for Christ to welcome us into eternal home with Him.
Visiting the Olympic Sculpture Park was one of our first weekend adventures in Seattle when we moved to the city in 2011.Â
Now, six years later (we can’t believe it) we decided to return (not for the second time, we’ve been there lots) for a photoshoot recreation of that first visit. Life then. Life now. Just a shallow snapshot of each.
Three Thoughts On My Ectopic Pregnancy: Fear, Dismay, and Lily
April 30, 2017
Part 1: Fear
My doctor called me on the afternoon of Easter eve and urged me to go to the ER that day.Â
“I think you’re anemic and I’d like you to go to the ER. Do you think you can make that happen? Can you go today? I’ll call to let them know you’re coming.”Â
So we got Oliver up (we had just laid him down for a nap) and went to the ER.Â
We thought it’d be another blood test and some medication to take home. Turns out it was:
“Change into this gown.”
“Here are two warm blankets.”
Take a couple blood tests.
Put “Thomas” on for Oliver.
“Don’t eat or drink anything until we know what’s going on.”
Call for a friend to watch Oliver.
Be wheeled up to ultrasound (cry on the way, repeat truth on the way, see no baby on the ultrasound).
Wait for Kyle to return from dropping off Oliver.
Hear the news of an ectopic pregnancy from Kyle (via the doctor prior).
And then finally, the news: I had an ectopic pregnancy in my left fallopian tube that burst, rupturing my tube and causing internal bleeding. When did the pain start? Saturday. Saturday, a week ago, I had a sharp pain on my left side, and then more pain that wouldn’t go away Monday through Wednesday. I’ve been bleeding internally for a week. That is why my stomach is bloated, my underwear is spotted, my trips up the stairs cause me to be light-headed and out of breath. That is why I’ve felt nauseous and tired. Not a baby. Not a stomach bug.
They take me up for surgery. The Lord is faithful and I can remember the verse I memorized earlier in the year: The Lord is the one who goes ahead of you. He will be with you. He will not fail you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed. Repeating that in my mind as I go through hospital halls and surgery prep and enter the operating room gives me such comfort and confidence. And no fear! I did not fear. I knew the Lord was with me and He was in control. My role was to trust Him.
In surgery, they remove 600 cc’s of blood from my abdomen, remove what is left of our baby, and remove my left tube. I rest in the hospital that night while Kyle goes home to be with Oliver, relieving another friend that has graciously taken watch of him. I feel cozy and pain free.
We wake up and it’s Easter and God is so good. White tulips, a slow trip home, and Easter basket opening while I watch from bed. Meals delivered. Texts sent. Prayers and remembering and thankfulness. God spared my life. He kept me alive (and really, functioning quite well) for a week. Praise be to God!
Part 2: Dismay
On a Saturday morning the week before Easter, I laid on our bed in pain. My left side was pinching in on itself and the pain was excruciating. Thinking it was my body’s way of working its cycle out after weaning Oliver, I took two Tylenol and continued with my Saturday: a bridal shower and then later, a spontaneous family trip to Discovery Park.
Two days later my pain was back. Like a side cramp when running that wouldn’t relax, I went through my life as usual for Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. Thinking I had a lingering stomach bug from the week prior, I canceled all my playdates, for fear that I would spread this painful bug. Wednesday night I took Ibuprofen and called the 24-hour nurse phone line that our insurance provides. Pain, shortness of breath, bloating. I didn’t mention the bleeding or the nausea. I thought my cycle was still working itself out and that the stomach bug was still in my gut. She was concerned about my shortness of breath and advised I go to urgent care. It was 10:30 p.m. I wasn’t dying (or so we thought at the time). Instead, we’d call my doctor for a same-day appointment in the morning. We prayed. I went to sleep.
The next morning, on Thursday, the doctor gave me the most exciting and surprising news: you’re pregnant! That must explain a lot. The bleeding, the bloated (huge!) stomach, the nausea, the tiredness. The everything. When you’re pregnant, every symptom happens to you. But I was concerned about my bleeding. I didn’t understand—how could I be pregnant if I was bleeding, and had been bleeding for so long? She ordered an additional blood test and told me to come back on Saturday for a comparison blood test.
Kyle picked me up, we gathered in our living room, and I told him the news through happy tears. What?! He was shocked. And thrilled. We later found out I was 6–7 weeks along.
Friday passed, and Saturday morning I went in for my follow-up blood test. Then the call that afternoon that led to surgery.
//
When I think back on the week of my pain, where I was daily losing more blood yet gaining it in my abdomen, it’s easy to think: how did we not know?! how could we have been so ignorant?! what were we thinking?! But the focus should not be on what we failed to do, but rather what the Lord saw fit to do for us, through His gracious, undeserved love.Â
Instead of how did we not know?! The truth to remember is that God is all-knowing. Sovereign. Powerfully. Watchful. He goes ahead of you.
Instead of how could we have been so ignorant?! The truth to remember is that God is kind. Gracious. Gives good gifts. He is with you.
Instead of what were we thinking?! The truth to remember is that God is in control. Trustworthy. Strong. He gives peace beyond understanding.
Fear is not so much part of the equation now, but dismay has slipped in. My heart is quick to grow in dismay. How long will I be in pain...forever?! When will I feel normal again...never?! When can I pick up Oliver again...can’t?! It’s easy to forget the truth that The Lord is the one who goes ahead of you. He will be with you. He will not fail you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed. I am not out of this in-between spot yet—where dismay fights to win. But! I am finding some things that help.
Repeating truth, like above, helps.
Separate, week-long visits from our moms helps.
Praying and being prayed for helps.
Remaining in the rhythm of daily devotionals helps.
Meals from friends helps.
Reaching for Psalm 33 at weak moments helps.
And time. Time helps.
Part 3: Lily
A few days after my surgery, I asked Kyle if we could name the baby. Did he think that was silly? He didn’t.
It’s an odd way to understand a pregnancy: yes, it was a fertilized egg (baby!), but no, it wasn’t in the uterus—so the baby had no chance for survival. I’m ashamed that for the first few days of processing this event, I wondered if I had actually lost a baby—or if it was somehow an almost baby. I realize now that I must extend grace to myself for my thoughts during that time, as I know God gives me endless grace always, and so of course He also gives me grace in trying times. And that I need to welcome and receive. I was just beginning grieving, just beginning recovery, just beginning “a second chance” of sorts, and perhaps I was hoping I didn’t really lose a baby because then it would be easier to cope. Though I had (and sometimes still have) so many questions, I am, however, confident on this series of events:
It did not exist.
It came to be.
It grew.
It ceased to be.
Life begins at conception. So, a baby it is. A baby it was. A baby we lost.
I had an inkling this baby was a girl. And I didn’t want to remember this season of our lives—the heartache, the faithfulness of the Lord, the idea of her—as “that time I had an ectopic pregnancy.” So we named her.
Lily.
Our Easter Lily.Â
I’ve realized: a heart, if asked to lift a feather for the rest of its life, will always feel the weight. And so, my heart will always feel the weight of you, Lily.
You were anticipated.
You were wanted.
You were celebrated.
You were prayed over.
You were mourned for.
//
At my follow-up appointment after my surgery, we returned to the same OB/GYN office where I had gone for all of Oliver’s appointments. There is a donut shop nearby where I had always told Kyle we should stop and get a donut after our appointments. In all those visits for Oliver, we never did.
This time, we stopped. Donuts for Lily. A life celebrated.
I stopped blogging over two years ago. The inner urge that said “write!” suddenly withdrew. The effect with no cause, my writings ceased.Â
Life since then has been so sweet.
Kyle graduated and got a job. We moved within walking distance to his work. I quit my job. We had a baby. We had the sweetest baby.
We’ve settled in to life as a family of three and it is the greatest thing we’ve experienced yet. And there is nothing on this blog that documents all those changes and transitions, those new beginnings and some of those forever endings. And that is fine and good. Those memories were written on our hearts instead, as well as a few journal pages.
The urge to write is slowly returning. A season of sharing may show it’s face again, though with less force and frequency. And if so, cheers, to seasons of writing for the masses and seasons of pondering in our hearts alone. Both are fine and good.
I had low—weak, uninteresting—expectations of how our plans for Thailand were going to pan out. I envisioned trudging through our six days in Chiang Rai, trying to find one good thing to remark about for the day.
See, I have this habit in which I bring up all sorts of holes and potential mishaps and ways that plans could go less than ideally. It's spurred on by fear and uncertainty, both of which I experienced a lot in the days before our Thailand trip. But God is not an uncertain God, and with him we don't need to fear. I tried to remind myself of this (with little success), so requests for prayer emerged from me to everyone I knew, even on the day of our departure. We boarded our flight to Thailand, and arrived 21 hours, four planes, and 11 time zones later.
The flight in was breathtaking.
The Chaing Rai airport is tiny, so it wasn't hard to find Greg and Barb, the YWAM missionaries who were our contact in Thailand. Within 10 minutes they had invited us to stay in their home and our reservations at the YMCA were canceled (no charge). Greg showed us around: the community college, the hill tribe villages that are just outside the city, and introduced us to the local market where we picked up some fruit for breakfast the next morning. We fought off sleep until 9pm, then called it a restful night.
Sunday
Our first full day was Sunday, and per Greg and Barb's suggestion, we walked 15 minutes to the nearest English-translating church. Shoes off at the door, hot feet on cold tile, and a mixture of Thai and English woven throughout worship and scripture.
Later that afternoon Greg and Barb, along with their co-worker Pa, who is from the southern part of Thailand, took us to Boon Rawd Farm. It's an elaborate tea plantation funded by Singha beer. Elaborate in the sense that we rented a tandem bike and pedaled through tea fields, then ate at a super cool restaurant where we were serenaded by Thai cowboys singing the country version of favorite Beetles tunes. Here, look.
Then we ate some bugs.
Did I mention that Greg and Barb like to make sure visitors get a real taste—literally—of Thailand? We joined them at the night market that Monday evening and actually, the bugs? They tasted like burned french fries. (Just close your eyes and chew really fast.) We both ate three. And then we decided to buy a Sprite for some much-needed pallet cleansing. We topped off our night by tasting durian.
Monday
Kyle had made plans to meet up with a real estate agent on Monday, so we could best view potential properties for his thesis project. This was a decision that unfolded in the mere 24 hours before we arrived—meaning Kyle was still emailing the agency at every airport connection to confirm our plans. We met our agent, Jeff, at the clock tower that marks the town center and drove away to explore the rice fields, mountains, and forests of Thailand for the next five hours. We saw a total of six properties, received geographical coordinates for each, and got thoroughly soaked by Thailand's rainy season.
When Jeff dropped us back off at the clock tower, we emerged with different plants clinging to our wet clothes and shoes covered in the stickiest red mud I've ever seen. We were probably smelly, because jeans and rain and Thailand heat doesn't exactly reveal itself as a clean and fresh, flowery scent.
But we also emerged with awe. And thankfulness. And joy. Half a world from home, God remained faithful and provided for our every need: in Greg and Barb hosting us and showing us around, and now in this morning, with the six properties we viewed. In all ways, Kyle received the best information for his project through our excursion with the real estate agent. And in all ways, his last minute idea to email a real estate agency was surely God's divine inspiration to him, rather than an idea he could claim came from his exhausted mental state at 3 a.m. the morning of our departure.
Seeing God's work through our poor yet earnest planning lead my knowledge and love of God to deepen.Â
I mentioned in this post how our plans for Thailand didn’t develop in the way we thought they would. And it's true, which you can clearly see by now. I anticipated leaving Thailand none the better for having visited. But instead, we saw God working those feeble ideas of our into a grand adventure full of wonder. We're just on day two, here!
There is a verse that says he’s able to do more than we ask or even imagine. That’s not fluff, you know, and I've had to remind myself of that. That verse is not a sugary coating to a big prayer, or a hope for some day down the road that just happens to some people. That’s the truth. There aren’t parts of the bible that are more true than others. There aren’t parts of the bible that are in there for mere comfort or mere encouragement with a lack of reality in our lives, but all parts of the bible are there because they are true. The truth is God is able to do more than we ask or imagine, and while that's not a promise made to our everyday, that is what we experienced in Thailand. We experienced more than what we could have asked for or imagined and it was just God being God in our lives. We did nothing to get it (clearly) and yet, we experienced God's kindness, faithfulness, provision, protection, and adventure in Thailand. Man, we are so thankful.
We spent the rest of the afternoon walking around Chiang Rai, visiting the Hill Tribe Museum, and filling up on such. good. food.
We also made the best purchase of our trip: flip flops for our wet feet. A welcome exchange for our soaked tennis shoes! (Remember: rice fields, Thailand rainy season, and oh yeah, we found a spray hose in the restaurant's bathroom to wash off that sticky red mud.)Â
We ended our evening by watching the clock tower turn color (this happens nightly at 7 p.m.), walking around the night market again, and our riding back to Greg and Barb's house in our first tuk tuk.
Tuesday
Tuesday morning we went to the YWAM base and helped with odd jobs they needed doing. Kyle mowed the lawn, and we created a rain ditch for a home on the property, which we filled with rocks. Lots of rocks. It was hard work! We went into town again that afternoon for a Thai massage (very different than what we think of as a massage, but so nice!), another stroll around the night market, and diner.
Wednesday
For our last day with Greg and Barb, they took us on a tour of Northern Thailand. We went to a pottery shop that had great Thai architecture first.
We traveled a bit more to a tea plantation, which was less touristy than Boon Rawd Farm. I really loved this little excursion. Seeing the beautiful countryside and enjoying the sun of Thailand was so nice!
We finished our trip with a stop at The Golden Triangle—the border of northern Thailand with Laos and Myanmar. We also had the best dessert: roti! Street vendors make this treat. It's a sweet dough fried with different toppings: egg, fruit, chocolate, and then topped with sweetened condensed milk and sugar. I skipped the egg and just went for the sweet toppings. It was so. good.
That evening we said goodbye to Greg and Barb, and headed to Le Meridien, our fancy splurge for the end of our trip. This place was the fanciest we'd ever stayed and had a sweet price tag of only $80 USD. We celebrated our last evening in Thailand by lighting a lantern Greg and Barb had given us. It was so cool to send it off into the night!
Thursday
The next morning we went swimming and explored the hotel grounds.
Then we took a hotel shuttle to the mall. The mall was pretty colorful and had lots of restaurants. There was even a market on the whole first floor! And of course, the shuttle there and back had this sign:
Because the market at the mall sold this:
The hotel called an airport taxi for us once we got back, and we arrived home roughly 24 hours later, with connections in Bangkok and Dubai. It was the sweetest trip, a great adventure, and I'm so glad we went.
I met Kyle on a beach in Greece, so it was pretty easy to be transfixed by his—ahem—arms and hair and smile and stuff. But he did speak such beautiful and interesting words, and those pulled me in too. The present was just as good as the wrapping, if you will.
We would talk for hours it seemed and couldn't run out of things to say. One night, we were both sitting at a picnic table long after dinner plates had been put away. Our new friends filled the seats around us, and the group discussion turned an awkward path to wishful thinking as ten singles stated traits they'd want in a future spouse. Mine? I wanted him to be funny and good with kids. Kyle? He wanted his wife to follow him anywhere.
Those were his exact words. "Follow me anywhere."
And that's when I lost it—lost a little "like" towards him, lost a little bit of "what if" dreams of our future together. Because I knew that if he wanted a wife that followed him anywhere, I wanted a husband that would let me do what I want. I call the shots in my life thankyouverymuch.Â
But through the rest of that summer, and the year following, that little statement of his fell further and further back in my memory until it was hardly there at all. What replaced it were phone conversations with Kyle, a ski trip that winter, dates that next year, and words like "I love you."
After our friendship had grown into a serious long-distance dating relationship, I moved to Georgia, so we could date each other in the same city. And after our dating relationship became an engagement, we moved to Seattle, so Kyle could attend graduate school. And then it hit me. Somewhere along the way my heart must have settled on following him anywhere. And I was okay with that. In fact, I was more than okay with that. That was what I wanted. I wanted to know what he did with his life, and I also wanted to be part of it. Following him anywhere was the decision I made for my life, not the decision he made for me.
Fast forward to this summer, when Kyle began talking with me seriously about traveling to Thailand to do research for his thesis project. When the discussion came about, I didn't begin the following. I began the questioning—and more so the "I don't want to go."Â
Life is hard sometimes isn't it? Making decisions that feel so big and uncertain. That's how discussing Thailand was for us: difficult, time-sensitive, ambiguous. Going would mean I'd have to face some fears—I highly value safety and predictably—and it would also effect us in ways that were not ideal (the cost of the trip and missing work were just two). Not going would leave Kyle's project wanting, and when faced with the opportunity to travel would we regret staying? There were many other factors we discussed, fought about, and prayed over until our waiting could wait no more. We purchased tickets in June and from then until mid-July tried to solidify plans for our short six days in Thailand. Those plans were finalized at 3am the day of our departure, Kyle staying up to finish everything, while I went to bed after what can best be described as my first panic attack—not so fun and a little scary.
Our hand-written vows are on display in our kitchen—in reach for when we need to take them off the wall and re-read them to each other. When marriage is hard. When we make selfish decisions. When we don't care for each other in the way that we should. My vow to Kyle reads: to follow you through all of life's experiences as you follow God.
To follow means to trust. And to have faith means to act.
And so last week we acted out our faith—our trust and reliance in Jesus—as we boarded a plane (let's be real, it took four) to Thailand. Those plans we discussed and fought over and prayed about, they didn't exactly come to life in the way we thought they would. Instead, we saw God working those plans into experiences that were much more full and adventurous and rewarding than any we could have imagined for ourselves. It was a glorious, sweet trip that led me to tears as we took off for home. Many friends and family have asked if I'd go back, and I—somewhat boldly—say yes!
I didn't say "yes" to Thailand when we purchased those tickets; I said "okay." My, how the Lord can change us if only we are open to His grace.
I can't wait to share those six days in Thailand with you. Thanks for your patience as I put that trip into words.
I made the above image quite by accident a year or so ago.
I was assigned to create a graphic for a youth event at a church in Georgia called Young, Crazy, and Influential. This wasn't the design I submitted, but rather a mix between something I was working on prior and the text I brought in for the graphic. Somehow these words merged with this photo and I—surprised—finessed them into this finished work.
I do like this. It has the most innocent whites and warm blacks, with that thin font so crisp and simple and ironic in its context. I find it fitting for this weekend, the one claimed to be the last of rainy weekends in April. We'll see. But for pushing out rain and welcoming in sun, I think this image fits nicely.
But enough about that. Happy weekend! I'm meeting up with some girlfriends for brunch at
Portage Bay
on Saturday morning. I may even paint my nails this weekend (which we know only happens about three times a year!). Kyle and I both have a
fair
great amount of homework to complete, but I have this feeling that the weekend is going to be grand and accomplished and relaxed.Â
And you know? I've been hit with this
crazy
thought lately that 26 feels pretty good, and dare I sayÂ
young
. Yes, at 26 I suddenly feel young. So to a young, crazy, and influential weekend—let's go friends!
I've lived in Seattle for two and a half years (how does the time fly?!) and one thing I've concluded is this: I can see why some cultures worship the sun.
To sum it up super briefly, the sun just makes everything better. It just does. It draws you out to dance it its rays and bask in its shine. It warms you and it grows the world around you. Trees, grass, flowers, all take life from the sun. My skin takes life from the sun: I glow and blush and radiate from its sweet kisses.
My emotions, my attitude, my actions, my circumstances: they all take life from the sun. If the sun is out, all things seem possible. Here at 47 degrees latitude, the sun slips in bedroom windows before 5am, and leaks out only after 10pm. The presence of the sun is fully felt the months of July, August, and September. We welcome it in, don't we? Early morning runs and late evening walks. Dancing in parks and swimming in freezing lakes. Smores. Putt-putt golf. The days are longer, and there is more to do and more to get done, and that's a fun thing.Â
Yes, the sun seems like an easy object to worship. It appears to be a life-giving god.
Oh, but it is a fickle god.
It is a fickle god that hides its face in the moments we so desperately need its warmth. The drizzle of November. The wet of December. The sludge of January. The mist of February. The insistent drip of March.
On and on and drip and drop. Rain come and rain stay. Clouds become our sunrise and our sunset and we wonder: was there ever a sun? wasn't that our god we worshiped? We danced in its gifts and now, this god seems to have lessened, to have faded, to have disappeared completely—defeated by overcast pillows.
Yes, it is a weak god.
In those long, cloud-filled days where my life seems gray-soaked in shadows—where is this sun-god then? When doubts of sun-life and dreams of warm days become our idol, where is this sun-god then?
We think—we hope—there is that bright bulb of fire behind those clouds, but to remind ourselves is difficult. So we wait for summer to come. We wait for the sun to shine, and for life to be fully lived again. And so I am waiting. I'm waiting for this wet, gray city to bloom in warm colors of the full spectrum. I am waiting for my circumstances to change. I am waiting for this sun-god to reign and really start acting like a god.
And then I am reminded. I am reminded of the I AM and I am so thankful that I do not worship the sun. I am reminded of my God and His true sovereignty. I am reminded of His faithfulness and His omnipresence. His strength and His might and how this sun-god could never come close to the real, true God who says I AM and never leaves and always gives life. He can be trusted and worshiped and celebrated.
God has used these dreary winter days to remind me of His character. He is greater than I imagine and more glorious than any sunset.
The Bible has beautiful, vivid lines of text and one in particular I enjoy says:
Don’t be deceived, my dear brothers and sisters. Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. He chose to give us birth through the word of truth, that we might be a kind of first fruits of all he created.
Oh, what blessed reassurance to know that He is God and the creator of all life and He does not change. Not when clouds when roll in. Not when the rain pours. No, He stays. He remains.
Kyle was on his first week of spring break this past week. I didn’t think much about how his time off of school would effect me and our marriage, but we were hit with the sweetest surprise this weekend: rest.
I knew we crammed our weekends with chores, and I knew it was normal to expect to complete four sink-fulls of dishes, three loads of laundry, two dinner meals, and a trip to the grocery store on every given weekend. I keep the house running while he foregoes the opportunity for rest on a weekend and continues to work on school. Four times a month. Twelve months a year. Now for two years of marriage.
I knew it was normal for me to feel rushed and squished and crammed and stretched between house chores and weekday prep and church activities and friend hangouts and rushing rushing rushing. To feel more unaccomplished at the end of the weekend rather than accomplished—or dare I think—rested. No, to fill those sweet 48 hours outside of workday demands with demands of other kinds, which most of the time are not all that enjoyable, that is my normal. And for Kyle to continue plugging away at school diligently and with persistence. That is his normal.
But this weekend.
This weekend was different.Â
See, I didn’t even intend to skip making Friday’s dinner, but a week’s worth of leftovers filled the fridge. So we met with a friend later that evening for dessert a bit more relaxed, having no dinner to make and kitchen to clean prior. And I certainly didn’t intend to skip Saturday's laundry run, but a sweet day on Mt. Rainier made me think sleeping in this week's sheets one day longer would really be, let’s be honest, no big issue. So we filled our Saturday with an early morning drive through frost-covered fields and sun-dipped forests to Mt. Rainier where we soaked up sun at 14,000 feet and tramped on snow 14 feet above the summer trails. It was supremely glorious.
And on Sunday, while we had made plans to see friends, we somehow planned to do that and only that. Meaning no grocery run. No laundry folding. No cleaning. No meal prep for the week. See, this weekend invited us to play in its sunshine and to embrace a lack of responsibility. So we spent the afternoon grabbing lunch and walking Washington's cherry-blossomed campus. We came home and feel asleep in the sun of our window seat. And we woke to meet more friends for burgers and shakes and two and half hour long dinner conversations.
And the weekend was good and restful and we felt it in our bones. The weekend was adventurous and new and it gave us such life. And I am so thankful for a husband that embraces rest and adventure with me on weekends, and then chooses to take on my normal weekend activities to complete during his week off of school. I am thankful for weekend lessons that reveal leaving tasks unaccomplished can actually make you feel more accomplished.
I am so thankful that life is more than laundry and grocery runs and crossing off lists.
Spring has made an early appearance here but I'm not fooled—I know there are three more solid months of 90 percent rainy and overcast days, with only a few of those teaser blue skies and sunshine days ahead. No, summer won't take hold until the Fourth of July.
But since spring has made such an early appearance, I'll embrace it in its slow growth. Flowers are ever so surely making their debut, and man, isn't color wonderful in a world of gray? Pink. Yellow. Green. Orange. It's the sweetest sight.
You may have remembered my gardening post from last spring and how excited I was to see those little green sprouts bloom. I never followed up on their growth because, well, let's just say that after one overly, overly, way too hot summer weekend in the sun they looked like this.
And I could not bring them back to life.
With my first attempt at gardening sans mother under the category of unsuccessful, I thought I should try again this year. But with spring's early dawn I now feel I'm in a race against the sun to get new flowers planted and talked to (you know, to help them grow). Additionally, this could be our last summer at this apartment (cue Beth bawling) not because we're planning on moving, but more so because we know life could look really different once Kyle is out of graduate school. We're just trying to be realistic and I'm trying to resist change.
So that got me thinking: what if we planted flowers that grew here at the apartment complex, instead of in pots on our windowsill? Brilliant! And that's were you come in. Helpppppp me decide what to plant. Please. I just want a beautiful flower that won't die.
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