Thoughts on Spring

I have heard many times from people over the past couple weeks of heat wave here in Minneapolis, “I love Spring!” I have been tempted to say the same, though I never thought of this as my favorite season. And so I have wondered (as I did 8 years ago when I changed my favorite color from orange to red) if I should change my favorite season officially to Spring?

On a walk yesterday with Matt, soaking in the green, and the birds, and the air I realized— I love Spring for everything it is not, much more so than for what it is. Spring represents no more winter, and that, that alone makes me love it! But, if I had to choose a season to have all year round, I would have to lean toward Summer’s heat, and full bloom flowers or Fall’s rainbow collage of leaves, and nights around the fire. No, Spring is not my favorite.

Nonetheless, it is beautiful… and fresh and life giving. And maybe God was up to something else perfect, when He decided the world, like life, should have changes.

I am still blogging...

I am memorizing Romans 8. The whole thing. Mainly because one of my favorite portions of scripture is sandwiched in the middle, but also because it is completely peppered with promises that give me something bigger than this world to hold onto; big pieces of the puzzle that unravel Jesus' coming and purpose here as it directly relates to me and humanity as a whole. Plus, one of our pastors at church told us we should memorize it. :) Sometimes it just takes a little prompting.

My aunt and uncle have been staying with us since Friday, and probably will be here through the week. My cousin, their youngest son, who attends college here in the city has severe pancreatitus and has been in the ICU since Thursday night at St. Johns. So the house is full, as it should be it seems. 6 adults and one kitchen.

On that note, we have bought a house. It will not be full, at least not that we know of at this point. I promised Matt we would not live with anyone for at least a year. It will be our first time since being married. Unless you count the 5 months in Costa Rica when technically we had a house-sectioned apartment, but still... the walls were thin to say the least.

It is a two-story, beautiful 2005 build here in the city, about 3 blocks from where we are now actually. It came right on time, for just the right price, in just the right place. Funny how God does that over and over again. He delights in giving good gifts to His children. (I remember that biblical truth against the backdrop of "Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, ... as gold is tried by fire" 1 Peter 1:7) We get keys April 13th, but most likely will not move in until later in the month, or even the first of May. A few "HGTV" projects for our main floor planned in between.


Meanwhile, I have been doing daycare for a 3 month year old since the start of February (she is adorable) and maintaining a steady 15-20 hours weekly of work since January with the business. I am am thankful. I have the baby Mon-Fri 7-4, so fitting the 20 hours into nap time intervals has been working out surprisingly well. The experience is helping me gauge what I will be able to handle with our own bundle of joy on the way, who is, by the way 7 months in the womb as of yesterday- not to mention making me into an excellent diaper changer :)

Romans 8 and Romans 15

This tug of war between being free from condemnation and free in the Spirit, yet in that freedom, choosing restraint and modesty and the weakness of others. Is that not Christ in a nutshell? There is no room for pride when truly considering your brother. The two cannot live together. What is this freedom, to simply give it away to be lowly to another. To be a slave again? But we are slaves unto righteousness, to a Holy and Perfect God. This is what humbles us, giving us a heart of thankfulness. When we are focused on our master, we do not feel like slaves, we freely choose to stay on His plantation and till His fields. His harvest becomes our harvest, His reaping our joy and benefit- and our brother becomes the face of God.

A wife like satisfaction

There is a satisfaction (that I am sure makes me that much closer to being my mother) when the house is clean and the only background noise is a fusion of the dryer and the dishwasher cycle, and there is still a good 2 hours left for me to open the laptop and be productive before an evening responsibility calls. Its about as good as rainy Saturday mornings, that turn into sunny afternoons (it allows you to innocently sleep long, but be rested enough to truly enjoy it later).

Cold

I started my third book editing project yesterday, on a March deadline. Was on a roll with cohesion and formatting... until my head began swelling up like a balloon and leaking tears out of my right eye and nostril like a running faucet. Matt graciously slept with Vicks fumes and snot rags (as my mother calls used kleenex) fallen in between the sheets through the nights blind nose blowing. I noticed he collected them all this morning before he left, as the trash can in the corner is filled to the brim with crumpled white fluff.

My iphone says it is 10 degrees outside, which means the sun shining on my bedside, warming up only that section is even more deceiving than I thought. I will get up at some point to create a sauna in the bathroom with the hot shower water. That should clear me for at least enough time to make breakfast and come back to bed and fall asleep to Hillsong's "Con Todo" worship album.

New Year

The lawn is white for the first time this winter. Christmas lights are on, can't bring ourselves to take it down when the limbs are still green. Maybe a mid Jan. bonfire one of these 10 degree Minnesota nights. Sunday night football on in the background and some random kids on the corner waiting at the bus stop. Grandma went south for the winter, the house has been fairly quiet as a result. No MASH or Walker Texas Ranger theme songs lately. Can't say I miss them quite yet.

Spent New Year day helping a girlfriend paint her apartment white in preparation for moving. In the evening I helped throw a NYE party for the Say Yes girls. Sweet time of pizza, indoor double dutch, a little dance and a movie. Brought in the New Year with Matt and some family.

I have been editing one-off essays for an education assistance firm out of India. Kept me busy the past couple weeks, in between holiday meals and family time.  Matt is on break, he goes back to work Tuesday... so I figure I will too. But, not before a day with my younger sisternlaws and niece. Having them all over tomorrow to watch a marathon of "Anne of Green Gable" VHS tapes. Classic.

Thankful

I am thankful. Thankful for seasons that bring holidays, that bring pause to life and time for family and travel and big meals with sweet pies. I am also thankful that they are pauses, and not the norm. That not everyday is kick back, and not every day is family time and not everyday is big meals and excessive desserts. I am thankful for seasons in general. Thankful that there are appointed times and places and persons as Ecclesiastes so blatantly points out. With that said, I am even thankful for Mondays.

House hunting...

Its fun, and exciting and scary and serious at all the same time. In many way, buying a home feels bigger than a baby. There is a sense of permanence and settle that a house connotes for me, where as a child, well, I envision slinging him on my back and keepin it movin. Kids adapt. Cement footings don't. But, both require faith, and we do have peace about a particular house. Waiting to sell the truck before we put a bid in on it. Got a call on it earlier in the week... praying about it all... timing and price negotiations and favor with the house builder.

I'm back

Did I tell you not to feel slighted...? My bad. Obviously my time has been divided. But after a viciously written text from my younger sister reminding me that I would lose all my following if I didn't write soon, I am back. The last month has been a blur.

My business cards are in. Logo done. Business paypal set-up. All the site content is written (including rates, packages, contractual language...)The site design and functionality is in its final stage, should be ready by Christmas. My promo packet is complete, and I am now preparing my pitch list... school, colleges, universities, churches that may have editing or content writing needs.

Just recently began titling my work. We went to a Christmas party last night and the infamous North American convo starter was thrown at me every which way, "So, what do you do." Honestly, I was tempted to ask why they cared, and suggest that there were deeper more meaningful questions to ask to get to know a person... like, "How is your walk with God?" or " What do you do that brings you satisfaction and true joy?" Instead, I told one woman that I was a freelance copy editor. That still didn't suffice for her, and tilting her scrunched face she responded, "What exactly is that?"

Sigh.

Oh, and everything on my body is growing, slightly, but growing nonetheless. My hips, my stomach, my arms... yes, my arms. This all just means I'm healthy- I think.  I told my husband he luckily married thick skin when he surprised me with a monthly gym membership and I wasn't offended. :) I must admit, it has been a nice addition to my week. Every Mon. Wed. Fri I drop Matt off at work and hit the swimming pool and treadmill for an hour or so. Gets me going. 

We heard the heartbeat Nov. 14th. Pretty much the most amazing thing I've ever heard in my life. In church on Sunday I swore I felt something tap my right insides. But since the thing is the size of a jumbo shrimp it may have just been gas.

Timing

It has taken 3 months of unemployed blessing to bring me to the point of readiness. But I am ready. And with some healthy coaxing from the husband, and affirmation from my family, it is moving. I am starting my own editing and writing freelance business.

The irony is that for the past year I have been editing a book during our travels, and writing for Examiner.com - the preparation has been in the works. Not to mention the Journalism major and 3 years of business writing experience.

I was reading in 2 Peter today about God's patience. How he is allowing time to pass slowly it seems, so that all can have fair chance to hear and believe on him. It reminded me that timing is everything in many ways. That God works things together until they reach their fullness, when God can receive the most glory from them.

Website is in the works, business cards in the mail. Clientele, well... anyone need an editor or content writer? I will be hosting a professional blog via the site. Don't feel slighted.

Missing MX

I miss Mexico today... a lot. I miss our little house, and our neighbors, and the mural, and the sun and bible study. I miss the tomale man, and fresh fruit from the tangys market and Mayra's meals at 3. I miss hanging my clothes on the line, and then the whole first floor smells like detergent when the wind blows. I miss Darlene, doing aerobic videos with Iris, I miss sweet bread and walks to Tiffany's to chill or cumbi rides to Laura's to bake. I miss not knowing what's next.

I miss being so amazingly aware that God is moving, and changing things, and saving people and simple. I know that is happening here too, but its different. Its not exotic, and new, or simple. Its home and bills and cold weather, and ministry to high school girls who cuss you out, read at 1st grade levels and are 3 times more likely to be pregnant and impoverished then high school grads or college entrants. Its teaching worship dance to youth I am not even sure enjoy worshiping... its looking for a job when you don't really want one.

Maybe Mexico and Mn. are more alike then I realize. Maybe ministry is beautiful and ugly no matter where are you. I miss the beautiful right now.

...

In many ways, life has just happened for me. Things I have attained that may seem as if the certainty of my heart and the determination of my mind made them come to pass actually often were a result of coincidence or unmerited favor. This of course is not the explanation for all my decisions and or "progression",  I have definitely worked hard, set my mind on goals, paid my dues in some respect, but I would say that generally, up to this point, life has been easy going, and my foot has never lingered too long in the air before knowing where to set it next.

Yesterday when I told the coffee cashier that I wasn't ordering, but instead looking for applications, and then later spoke to a department store manager to see if she had holiday part time hours available, I realized that for the longest period of my life ever, my foot has been up in the air. Not necessarily because  I do not have a job, but more so because I am still unclear on what it is I am supposed to do with my day. Even when I was working my comfort was not in my job, but the fact I knew I was to be there. I realize that in 9 months my daily activity will be fed me in a sense, but still, even a baby cannot exempt a woman from obedience to multiply her talent, and keep her lamp burning and ready...

It seems to me that my situation, is an ideal situation in many ways... 24 hours upon 24 hours of endless possibilities. Ideal, and overwhelming at all the same time.

I read a fellow blogger's post of a quote by Charles Spurgeon. It reads, "When you can't trace his hand, trust his heart." And I do.

Braids

Last week I had an old roommate call me about braiding her brother's hair.  I told her sure, not expecting that 5 minutes later he would text me and be on his way with his girlfriend. At the moment I was babysitting a 10 month year old, still hadn't made dinner and had a bible study group coming over in 2 hours and needed to clean up some still. But for some reason, I still felt like I should do it. So, I put my Mexico hat on and went with the flow. I threw a frozen pizza in for dinner, said whatevs to cleaning, and told the girlfriend she would have to help entertain the baby. I called a friend and asked her to pray for the time with this kid and his girlfriend.

Prayer is powerful. After flat ironing, his hair was barely 2 inches. I couldnt get all the hair to lay into the cornroll for the life of me. After 2 braids I gave the guy a mirror and told him to tell me if he wanted me to keep going or stop. He thought it looked great. Honestly, I took a double check at the mirror to make sure it was clean and clear. Was he looking at what I was looking at? In my head, I was so confused. But, since he was willing to sit and enjoy it, I talked. I talked about Jesus, my marriage, I asked them questions about their relationship, school, family. Even invited them to bible study, but apparently, it sounded to intense for them. I eventually finished the whole thing. Fuzzy and all, it looked like good braids, 2 weeks old. Again, he looked in the mirror and told me it looked amazing. He offered me $40! I took $20 and when I closed the door behind him, I just sat down and smiled. In those 2 hours, Matt had called to say he wouldn't be home for dinner because of a random work get together, 2/3 of the bible study text and said they couldn't make bible study so we cancelled, and when I looked around, I realized the house was pretty clean as it stood. Funny.

PS. That line I wrote in my last entry about feeling good- take it back. I woke up yesterday and could barely get out of bed, until I forced myself to get up and chew on a bagel around 10. It got more bearable as the day went. I think the best way to describe it is that I feel like a drank an overdose of nyquil but I'm still trying to function normally. No complaints though, as I realize these are healthy normal signs, and we want that.

Bebe

2 weeks ago I was frying potatoes when I literally left the stove on and the spatula in it, to appease an itching suspicion. I took a pregnancy test and there were 2 lines. I showed Matt and he went into shock mode for about 3 hours. He went for a run, took a walk, shower and a nap in that window of time. Processing. We took another test Thursday morning in case it was a defect but no, another second line. Matt has had them both sitting on his night stand since then. Memoirs... I think. 

This to say, we are very happy. Gregariously happy actually, we have been telling pretty much everyone we run into. "Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks..." It was somewhat earlier than expected, but God is good and perfect with his gifts and their timing. I feel very normal, so much so that I worry I will show up for my first appointment Nov 14th and the nurse is going to laugh at me and send me home for a mistaken self diagnosis... Matt assures me that won't happen.

Yep, so there it is. 7 weeks now I think... according to my experienced sister n laws who understand how to calc these things. Just hoping for a strong heart beat at the check-up. Don't worry, I will not turn the blog into an expectant mom journal. At least, that's not the plan.

Buying time

I smiled with true joy in my heart when I received probably my 6th or 7th notice via email of "Thanks for your interest but another candidate has been chosen." Its becoming comedic that I cannot even land a secretary job after rounds of interviews. I do not mean it with any ounce of sarcasm, though I realize it appears I am writing it with such.

I am almost certain God is buying me time. Not in the way he bought Hezekiah time, but in the way he allowed Moses years over the Sinai Peninsula in preparation for his Pharaoh confrontation, or the way he bought Ruth time in her travels with Naomi and part time job in the field, or the way he bought David time in the pastures during early adolescence. He buys time for quiet. For learning. For redirection. For hypersensitive ears to hear his voice sharply and clearly. And even that is just an expression doing little justice to the season. God doesn't have to buy anything. He owns it all. Maybe the more accurate description is, God is borrowing me this time. He is so gracious to do so.

Afternoons of couch journaling, and kindle reading. Hours of YouTube videos where I hone my knitting skills, teach myself web design and edit side jobs to keep building a portfolio. Of course this is in between applications, revisions of resumes and interviews. My house is clean, my husband is well fed, I am all ears to his daily activities and find his experiences fascinating. I am free to be in love not to just be married, to rethink what ministry looks like in my life, or what it doesn't for that matter. I am allowed to reevaluate how I do faith, or how I don't for that matter. How I love those around me, or how I...

I am in Chicago. I drove up yesterday. A couple missionaries from Mexico are here speaking about Arts in Missions at Moody Bible Institute.  Spent last night with one of my best friends from college. How beautiful to catch up and just have a good ol sleep over. Talk God, and boys and watch Dancemoms at all the same time. Deep.

Life is good, because God is bigger than it. He makes it worth my time.

Say Yes

I signed up to volunteer with a mentorship program called, "S.A.Y. Yes" (Save America's Youth). Mentorship is a portion of the entire dessert cart. It includes: After school tutoring, bible club, gym and dinner, crafts and lifeskills... it's mother is a non profit org called, "Here's Life Inner City" but operates completely through the local church. I love it.

This last month entailed my entry interview, weekly orientation/trainings and yesterday we had our first parent orientation opener. The flow of parent's was slower (to be expected in a low income, high crime, 30% English as a second language neighborhood). In pairs, we took bundles of flyers overviewing SAY Yes and went house to house last night surrounding the church. I ended up using my Spanish a good amount. It was heaven.

South Minneapolis is eclectically diverse. As we were talking to a White man about getting his kindergartner involved, a Native American man from the house prior yelled at us from the porch to talk to Gabriel a block down. We walked to the address shouted us, and after letting ourselves in through 2 open porch doors, we walked up a duplex stair case over loads of shoes, old t shirts and toys. In response to our knock, we met a smiley Gabriel...his 4 elementary kids, and his wife who does not speak or read English. They could utilize the tutoring program and plan to come to the orientation this Wed. at the church.

It all just felt so comfortable. Maybe because it simulated the going-ons of our 3 months in Mexico, maybe because I could speak Spanish, maybe because of the one-spiritedness of all the volunteers with me, maybe because I was in the hood-? Maybe because it was something to get me out of the house. I don't know. But, I am excited to be a part.

Christian Music

One of the many ironies of my life, is Gospel Music. There was a time when it really was one of the only genres I could truly claim to know. We weren't allowed to listen to secular radio stations growing up, or maybe more so, my family simply didn't play secular music in the house- period. I remember being at school dances mouthing, "watermelon, chicken dinner" hoping no one would notice I wasn't familiar with the song. The song that apparently, was the next thing to slice bread.

Gospel music became somewhat of a default music, seeing as at church, once you hit double digits, you were initiated into choir. It was all day on Saturday (and some weeks, if it was near a holiday, it was everyday a week all evening). We would arrive Saturdays at 10, and we would not get back until dinner time. Really. No exaggeration. So naturally, gospel was in my head through out the week.

I had very little awareness to Contemporary Christian music. In fact, when I thought Christian music, I thought gospel music. I do not recall any KTIS's or Praise FMs... all I knew was KMOJ's gospel hours (which back in the day had not yet been demoted to only Sunday mornings, or sandwiched between Lil Wayne during rush hour).  The contemporary songs I did know I called, "Campus Crusade Music". The worship music played at meetings from my parent's organization. And secretly as well as naturally (in my mind) it was white people's music, and it seemed sad and corny at all the same time.

The irony comes in that my introduction and soon following love for many contemporary christian artists, came while attending a Historically Black College in D.C. I remember visiting the dorm room of a friend I had recently made and she had a radio station playing in her room. I immediately identified it as the Crusade music and I thought, " Really? You?" She eventually made me a CD of her favorite songs. Soon my room too was full of this sad/corny music that almost literally put bible verses to melody and drew me to my knees.

By my Senior year at college, at any given time my room was  filled with gospel music, Christian Hip Hop, "contemporary worship" and Jazz. And you know what I found, every genre moved my Spirit to worship. I learned powerfully that Christian music is not about a genre at all. It is about being Christ centered and bringing you to a place of awe before God. Nothing else.

Autumn's Peak

You helped me see fall for what it is
Not sure how I never saw it before
Like unsaid love, like unknown love
now found, admired, coveted
its the foretaste of a fantasy discovered true
where animals talk, gravity gone and trees bright as the sun

Streets of gold can't be far from fall
I see it in every bronze tone color leaf
I smile at the thought
rainbow trees all year long, no longer in need of rain
whose branches bend to make way for my coming
and sweep my back as I leave
who say goodbye and ask if I spoke with the King that morning

I smile at the thought of all that truth boldly peeking
through yellows, reds and oranges
as if He's winked at all the world
and for once I get His meaning

A gift

According to the "Five Love Language" test in the back of the book, "Gifts" are low on my totem pole as love affirming agents. I suppose it makes sense. Generally, I do not crave gifts, nor am I compulsive or a consistent giver of gifts, though I appreciate them and thoroughly enjoy receiving and giving a good surprise.

Matt bought me a car. An Acura TL actually, with a navigation system. I married a man who's love language embraces gifts as a pretty close third to acts of service and physical touch. He surprised me last night, at around 10pm. My brother-n-law had driven it down from the used car lot and parked it out front on his behalf.


I do not understand the psychology of it completely, but alls I know is I felt like in a matter of 30 minutes I went through the 5 stages of mourning. I was completely struck by unbelief, and kept wondering why I was saying thank you every time it came out of my mouth. Then I got in it and I thought, "Why me?" Why did you buy me a car? I didn't even ask for a car? Then as Matt preceded to share with me his payment plan, I got just plain angry. Do you know how many churches we could build for that? How many bibles we could send to China? (In a perfect world, this stage would have lasted only as long as the others...) Before we closed our eyes to sleep, I moved into sadness. Sad that I wasn't embracing my circumstance with a little more joy- not to mention making my husband feel like dirt at the same time. I mean, its not like we could sell it back- right? And what woman doesn't want her husband to surprise her with her own (almost) brand new car with no strings attached?

And so here I am, in the final stage of acceptance. In fact, I would say at about 11 this morning when I was out in the cool breeze with the sun shining, cleaning the inside (the lot must have been in the middle of a desert) and windexing the illegally tinted windows (my favorite feature btw) ... I fully recovered from mourning.

Its growing on me. The steering wheel cover I put on and the little vanilla trees hanging off the vents help. I think I'll keep her.

Knitting

Firstly, I would like to give due recognition to Hannah Galloway, who in the gracious giving of her time entertained my desire to learn how to knit this past summer. I put the knitting to action on our 12 hour flight home from Mexico in July but all too often Matt would point out that the scarf was gradually getting bigger, in the wrong places-?  A couple days ago I picked the awkward ball of scarf I had started a couple months back and started over. Thanks to Youtube, I relearned casting on and binding off, and below you will see my latest concoction... A neck warmer!

Gramma let me use an old button she had lying around. Yes, I am going to wear it- at my husband's football game in fact. No, it is not a scarf ( the photo is deceiving, it is not long enough to tie). And no, you cannot order one. Though, you could probably pick one up from a french boutique for $50...