Mother's Day 2015: Little Things

One morning this week as I was wiping down the kitchen counter, I thought about a blog article I read recently, one that encouraged moms in the mundane tasks of daily living by reminding us of a passage from Matthew 25 about the sheep and the goats:


³¹ “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his glorious throne. ³² All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. ³³ He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.
³⁴ “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. ³⁵ For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, ³⁶ I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
³⁷ “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? ³⁸ When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? ³⁹ When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
⁴⁰ “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’"


I went back and looked for this blog to share with you, but it's already buried in my Timeline, so I guess you're just stuck with my reflections. 

Can you wrap your head around how blessed we are to know that these little things matter to Jesus? 

When I change a poopy diaper, I'm serving Jesus.  
Sweeping floors? Serving Jesus. 
Sitting still nursing? Serving Jesus. 
Putting a hot meal on the table? Serving Jesus. 
Washing clothes. Washing dishes. Folding diapers. Wiping counters. Wiping noses. Singing whatever song is the current favorite for the 38594th time. 

All of these things MATTER. My little needy son is "the least of these," and all these little tasks matter because I am fulfilling God's calling of raising this little boy. They matter because they are service-- service to my son and to my husband. It is humble work, and it is Kingdom work. 

Be encouraged, Mamas. I think today can feel a bit like the day after Christmas. There's no breakfast in bed, no sweet sticky gifts and cards, no flowers--just another Monday. But be encouraged. Our children may not always remember or know how to say thank you, but Jesus sees our humble, bodily-fluid-filled days, and He is blessed. 

Be blessed by His love for you. 

Adventure well; Live fully.
HAK 

Scary Ride

Sometimes our adventures are thrilling and wonderful. 

But sometimes, they're just terrifying. 

Sometimes, adventure isn't even the right word. 

Sometimes, it's a nightmare. 

Our worst fears come true, and we find ourselves living in bondage to that pain and anxiety. 

Life is hard. 

Even the good stuff is hard oftentimes. 

So we watch, and we wait. 

We cling to hope.

My little sister was in Into the Woods last night. Frankly, it was a scary play. But it made me think. 

The best things in life aren't wishes. 

Or perfection. 

                                                           Or riches. 

The best things in life give us reasons to keep putting one foot in front of the other. 

Love. 

          Hope. 

                      Faith. 

                                   Joy. 

Delicate, elusive things that slip thru our fingers like wind and sand and hover in the corner of our visions like strands of gossamer. 

"Hope has a way of turning it's face to you
Just when you least expect it
You walk in a room
You look out a window
And something there leaves you breathless
You say to yourself
It's been a while since I felt this
But it feels like it might be hope." 

"Hold on. Hold on. 

Keep your eyes on the prize. 

Hold on."

~Sara Groves

 Adventure well; Live fully. 

HAK

Mary Poppins and Walking by Faith

For the first time since I started writing, I have a back-log of blog ideas. BUT, for today I simply want to pause and reflect:

I start a new job today. 
I'm going to be "Mary Poppins" for my best friend's youngest two siblings because their mama went Home unexpectedly in October. 

I'm neither mom nor sister, but it's my job to love and care for and teach these two young teenagers in the best ways I can so that they continue to grow and so their dad has more time during the work day to provide for his family. 

I woke up this morning feeling daunted. 
I'm excited beyond all belief--I love these kids, and I love nannying. 
But I woke up this morning staring my own weakness in the face.

On the one hand, I'm well equipped. I've got about 8 years of nannying experience under my belt, I'm a great cook, and I have a lot of confidence in these kids. But it's a new road for all of us. School, doctors, dinner, home responsibilities, spiritual growth, love and encouragement...my job bumps up against and includes all these things. It can be overwhelming to think about.

I ran myself in circles for awhile this morning before I came up short:

My inadequacy is not what matters: Jesus matters. 
Walking by faith, being faithful in prayer, lifting these kids and their family and all of these responsibilities to the throne of grace daily, hourly, minute-ly. That is what matters. 

This job has been on my heart for the better part of two months. 
I feel called to it, and I'm so blessed that God moved us back to Atlanta, and that I have this opportunity. 

Join me in prayer for these kiddos, their family and friends, and for me as I seek to show them Jesus in how I love and care for them.

Adventure well; Live fully. 
HAK

Going Boldly: Atlanta or Bust!

The Hubster and I are moving tomorrow. 
The first move of our married life. 

We've been waiting, dreaming, and praying for tomorrow for over a month (and in some ways, longer). 
He'll be taking a new IT job, I'll be back to doing child care (in addition to Etsy), and we'll be closer to my family and many of our friends.

The Burrow is almost packed. I'm hiding out in our room as I type because it's the last semblance of order in our home. There are boxes and spreads of the last remnants of packing everywhere. 

This move is our dream.
But it's a little heartbreaking to leave our first little love nest. 
We spent our wedding night here. 
This was the first place we welcomed our parents to our home. 
Friends have come up from Atlanta, over from Covenant, down from Cleveland...
More than once faces have lit up in surprise at how often we have company...and just how many people you can fit in our little home! 
John painted these walls and built our furniture with love and care, turning a (very) humble mobile home into a sweet little cottage. 
We grew veggies in the summer, filled wine bottles with flowers, and hung succulents in the windows. 

Obviously we'll still do many of these things in Atlanta, 
but there's something about the first time. 
Our first home.

Woven in all these things are our friends, especially all the lovely ladies I've had to tea. 
One of them, probably the Burrow's most frequent visitor, asked me yesterday how it has been saying our goodbyes this week. 
Honestly, I've been trying not to think about goodbyes.
We're all grown up, and Atlanta isn't far--that means there will still be visits and teas...
 
But I'm going to miss hugging JE and NS almost every day, swapping chocolate chips with SS in the library, whispering in class with KR and MK, Sunday afternoons with our small group...

Then I look forward:
Meals and games and walks and talks with Mom and Dad. 
Tea and coffee with MD, MH, S&FtP.
The Reelets--who are growing up way faster than I care to admit. 
Meals and homework and life with A&AS. 
Breaks and holidays when "my girls" come to town, and we go to the Forum or out for Mexican, or a night in at our new apartment.
New friends that we don't even know yet--other newlyweds, young families, small groups, John's coworkers...
Visits from out of town friends--and a guest room to host them!
Perimeter.
My favorite bike routes.
The luxuries of Target and Trader Joe's. 
A sunroom-studio that I am determined to transform into arting heaven. 
An aquarium--and eventually a cat and dogs, too. 
The Someday Knightlets.  

I hope we'll name our new home...and all the homes yet to come. 
It's an old tradition that delights me. 
I can't put into words the rush I got when I realized that everyone was catching on to calling our home here "The Burrow." It still thrills me. I smile every time. 

So, we gather our skirts (proverbially), our belongings, and our courage and go boldly further south. 
We are blessed. 
We have been blessed here, and blessings won't stop with a move. 
We will grow--in wisdom, love, experience, relationships, blessings, and grace. 


"The Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all.  Amen."  (Philippians 4.23)

Adventure well; Live fully. 
HAK

Gift of Life

I knew days ago that I wanted to write this post. 
I was supposed to write and publish it yesterday. 
But even today it took several minutes to even find a title. 
Every year I think words will come more easily. 
They never do. 

January 22,1973.
Roe Vs. Wade.

January 22, 2014. 
41 years later. 
54.5 million abortions later. 

I'm not going to beat around the bush, y'all. I am vehemently prolife. Frankly, no, it's not your body, your life, or your decision. God in His grace placed the gift of life in you, and it's your baby's body, your baby's life, and God's decision. 

But let's clear up something else, too: 

I don't hate you if you've had an abortion.

I wish I could make you a cup of tea, hug you, and talk about it--or maybe just sit there and drink our tea. I know it's often fear that leads to the decision, and I'm so, so sorry that you were so scared. I grieve the physical and emotional pain you've been through, and I grieve your baby. Whether or not you share my griefs, you don't need one more angry Christian in your life. I'm really sorry if you've experienced that anger. You need a hug. You need love and grace. Christ alone can set you free from fear, regret, pain, guilt, grief...the list for all of us goes on and on. We are all in bondage without Jesus. We could talk about that over tea if you want. I'll make scones, too--we could be talking awhile.

Like I said, I meant to write this yesterday. 
As much as I am passionately pro-life, I shy away from January 22.
"Right to Life" day.
It's a humbling day where words don't come easily. 

About 23 years ago, a 17 year old girl found out she was pregnant. 
From what I understand, she considered abortion. 
It would have been so easy for me to be part of the 54.5 million. 

And yet, I'm sitting here writing this blog post. 
Over the course of her pregnancy, my birth mother not only chose to carry me to term, but came to know the grace and freedom of Jesus, too. 

The end of October 1991, I was born and then adopted by my wonderful parents. 

Every January I think about how my life hung tenuously in that balance. And yet, miraculously, a terrified teenager chose 9 months of pregnancy. 
A young couple was given a baby--a baby for which they had long prayed.

Amazing Grace. 

My life is neither mine, nor a right. 

It's a gift.

God forgive me for the times when I forget that. 

January 23, 2014. 

A day to be thankful. 

Adventure well; Live fully.
HAK

2014

Happy New Year!

As you may have seen on Twitter or Facebook, the Hubster and I celebrated fairly simply and had a lot of fun with just the two of us and the two dogs we're petsitting. We played Monopoly (he won), sipped champagne, watched The Fall of Sam Axe, and hid under the table with the pups when the fireworks freaked them out. You think I'm joking:

Yesterday we dutifully, and delightedly ate our pork roast, kraut, black eyed peas, greens, and cornbread. I was very pleased that I managed to cook all of the above--four first times in one meal was a bit daunting--especially the greens which I bought fresh! I was glad I had saved some of our Christmas ham in the freeze for flavoring the beans and greens, too. yummmm.

Anyway, I also spent some time reflecting over the past couple of days, looking back at 2013 and ahead to 2014. I thought a lot about the "hats" I wear. 

I became a wife in 2013--a role that I love and am still growing into. 

I learned a lot about being a daughter, a friend, an adult. 

In light of two of my best friends' moms dying this past year, I have been both mourner and comforter, prayer and prayed for. We carry that weight with us into 2014--a weight of grief and a weight of the hope of glory. We're all hoping that this year brings renewed joy and peace as we weave memory and hope into our hearts. 

I continue to be a student, and, for maybe the first time in my life, I struck a healthier balance between schoolwork and the rest of my life. I was astonished that, other than in French which is really hard, my grades didn't change that much even though my quality of life did. 

I started a business, too--something that maybe surprised me as much as anyone else. Mes Aventures, Crafts & Co. started as an art shop about place and has already morphed a bit to be about all kinds of life adventures--big and small. With this rather big leap I became an entrepreneur/ small business owner and, of all things, a professional artist. 

I don't ever remember not wanting to be an artist. Whatever else I was pursuing, I always seemed to add "and an artist." in my head and heart. But after about age 6, it was always like that--a sort of afterthought. 

And yet, here I am, a newlywed in 2014 (another thing I didn't see coming ;-) ), who has decided to take a break from the education required for all those other pursuits (after I finish my B.A. this semester), to encourage and grow the "afterthought." 

But now that I "really am" an artist, I find myself paralyzed with fear of my own inadequacy. 

I didn't go to art school--I'm a lit student, teacher, and budding linguist by training. I find myself spending plenty of time thinking about art and much less time doing it. I want that to change. I don't want to just pursue the idea of art or creativity. I want to embrace and act upon them. 

So, a couple of days ago, I sat down with journal and tea to make a plan. (Just ask April: I love plans. She can tell you, too, that things rarely go according to plan.)

 Across one page I scrawled the words of Andy Warhol:

"Don't think about making art, just get it done. Let everyone else decide if its good or bad whether they love it or hate it. While they are deciding, make even more art."

That's where I'm heading this year. As I create, I know my skills will improve, as will my focus and routine. 

Maybe by the end of 2014 I won't feel so sheepish when I tell people I'm an artist. ;-) 

Adventure well; Live fully. 

HAK

"Why You Gotta Be So Mean?"

I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later. Both business and art seem to attract criticism, so combining the two would certainly bring some. That doesn't really make it any easier to swallow, though. 

I got home late last night from a wonderful day out with John. On a whim, we ate breakfast at Panera before church. After church, we had lunch with friends, went to the Aquarium, and saw the Hobbit. We had so much fun! When we got in, I was surprised to see how many views my Etsy shop had received during the day and soon realized I had gotten a lot of traffic from one particular website. Intrigued, I looked it up and hunted for the page that apparently led to my shop. It was one of those websites that declares and tracks trends (whatever that means), gives ideas, etc., so I was hoping for something positive. Was I ever wrong. 

Granted, I'm not known for having a thick skin, but to have vulgar things said about something that I made...I don't know that there's skin thick enough for that. 

Being a youth of the 21st century, Taylor Swift swiftly ( ;-) ) lent her lyrics for expressing my feelings: "Why you gotta be so mean?" It's pretty much been playing in my head since. 

I don't know why someone thought it would be funny to gather things off of Etsy that they thought were sub-par and say mean, nasty things about them. That's a lot of cynicism and negativity. Is it really all that hard to say nice things? Maybe it's just hard to get one's mind out of the gutter. It's sad, really. 

So I've been thinking...
Maybe this person went through a particularly nasty breakup recently.
Maybe they were abused. 
Maybe they were bullied. 
Maybe someone they loved left or died around the holidays. 
Maybe they're a single parent and really need that job, even if it's an icky one. 
Maybe they're just really lost and sad and lonely and without a lot of hope or peace right now. 

Whatever the case, they have a big, fat need for grace--from me and all the other hardworking Etsy folks they said nasty things about. And, you know what? I need grace, too, because I'm not always nice either. I guess that puts me and this person in kind of the same boat. 

I don't really like that, but it's true. We're broken. Messed up. In real need of grace. 

So, person-out-there-who-was-a-meanie-face-yesterday, I'm sorry you don't like everything on Etsy, but I'm not going to let you decide what is okay in my shop. I'm sorry for the mean things I said in my head about you last night. 

Adventure well; Live fully.
HAK
 

Christmas Time is Here

"Christmas time is here

Happiness and cheer

Fun for all that children call

Their favorite time of the year 

Snowflakes in the air

Carols everywhere

Olden times and ancient rhymes

Of love and dreams to share 

...Christmas time is here

We'll be drawing near

Oh, that we could always see

Such spirit through the year..."

~Charlie Brown Christmas

Christmas started while I was still at my parents' house for Thanksgiving, and it continued yesterday as the Hubster and I decorated our Burrow.

 I tried to study today, I really did, but I just keep getting lost in twinkle lights and wrapping paper. I've had my Christmas playlist on repeat, much to Hubster's amusement (I take Christmas a bit more seriously than he does. :-) ). There's already a pile of presents under our tree, plans have been made for family and friends to visit, and I've had a reading list a mile long since July to tackle over break. And all those things are good--wonderful, really--but they're not the point. Part of the point, but not all of it. I'm reminded of some wise words that were said to me about 7 years ago:

"A lot will ring empty here this time of year because it is empty. 

Delight-- TRUE delight-- is other worldly."

~Steve Bennett

I said a moment ago that loved ones, gifts, and enjoyable past times are part of the point. These things reflect love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, and self-control. And those things are other-worldly. They ring true because they come from Truth. 

My friend Brenda will be delighted to know that the Carpenters are winning my vote for current favorite Christmas album. I've always loved them because they're classic, but, this year, one song really caught my attention:

It's Christmas time and time for a carol
Time to sing about the little King
To fill the bowl and roll out the banel
Have ourselves a fling

We greet a friend or welcome a stranger
Let him sing on cheer him on his way
And celebrate the child in the manger
Born on Christmas day

Good cheer for you and for me
With pleasure and glee to share
Oh, we're so happy to be together
On yuletide square

It looks like snow and falls like snow
Take a moment, take a look about and say
As snowflakes fall
Merry Christmas to one and all

~"It's Christmas Time"

That's what it's all about. Not gifts, not a break, not the hokey-pokey. It's all about the Child in a manger who was the Savior of the world. 

I'd like to share a few words that help me to remember why this time of year is so special to us. 

Emmanuel- God With Us. After millennia of prophecy, each and every one was fulfilled by a child born of a virgin. "And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us" (John 1:14a).

Ichthus- In Greek, this acrostic means "Jesus Christ, Savior." The baby grew up and became sin for us so that we might become children of God and heirs to His kingdom. 

Agape- Perfect love casts out all fear (1 John 4:18). God himself died on a cross and rose again because of His perfect, overwhelming love for us. 

For some of you, these words ring true. But for others, you're skeptical. You might even think I'm a bit kooky, even uneducated. Hope is out of fashion these days, and cynicism is all the rage--I get that. But we all believe that Christmas is a time for hope, kindness, generosity, and love--why can't we believe that every day of the year? What if our "Christmas spirit" is a lot closer to the real deal than our work-day cynicism and exhaustion? What if we were made for true, other worldly delight? 

Adventure well; Live fully.

HAK

  

Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone! I am so thankful that you take the time to read my blogs, and I hope each and every one of you is as happy and blessed as I am today!

In honor of the holiday, I thought I'd list some of the things I'm thankful for!

1. The gift, life, and death of Jesus Christ. Above all, I am thankful for a personal, loving God who gave his Son for me. (Sidenote: looking for a new, awesome album? Check out The Ascension by Phil Wickham. Makes me cry in all the best ways). 
2. My Family: my Hubster, my parents, grandfather, aunts and uncles, cousins. I love you!
3. Friends. I've mentioned my friends a lot on here. My girls, every last one of you, I'll never be able to say how special you are to me and how thankful I am for you. 
4. God's provision for John and I to be financially independent and debt-free as newlyweds. 
5. I started a company this year, and it's the best job in the world. I love my studio time, blogging, receiving custom orders, etc. And I'm already thankful for all the years to come with Mes Aventures, Crafts & Co.!
6. Growing up at and going to school at Perimeter Church/ School. My Perimeter family is a treasured part of my life! I'll be a Perimeter Eagle forever! 
7. Education--both formal and self-taught. I'm thankful for the means and opportunity to go to school through University and to own an extensive personal library for further study. 
8. Travel. I've been to 46 states and 5 non-US countries, and every experience grew my thinking about the world and culture. 
9. Senses. Eyes to see the beauty of creation, a nose to smell favorite foods and perfumes, a tongue to taste those same favorite foods, skin to experience texture and to feel loved ones close in tight hugs, ears to hear voices, music, and nature. 
10. The daily surprises and adventures of life that keep things beautiful and interesting. 

There's ten. Just a few of many. 
Enjoy your family and friends today!
Love and hugs from not-so-hot-Lanta!

Adventure well; Live fully.
HAK

Faithful, not Perfect

"Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor;

the enemy of the people.

It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life."

~Anne Lamott

Those of you who know me may be thinking, "Yeah, HAK, about time you figured that out." 
Yeah, yeah I guess it is. 

The greatest expectations I face are the ones I put on myself. I expect too much. I want to do it all. 
Perfectly. 
I still kind of want to do "it all," or at least a little bit of everything. But I'm learning to let go of the perfect part. 

I still want a huge mess of kids. 

I still want to teach--though I'm less sure of when or where or in what role than I used to be. 

I still want a lot of pets--though I think a cow and chickens might be added to the list. 

I still want to paint and write and knit--oh wait, I'm doing that with Mes Aventures, Crafts & Co. and this blog! :-) 

I still want to travel--though when and how is up in the air, but that's maybe half the fun...

But I know there will be days when I'm impatient with the munchkins...

...when I don't get my grading done or when, maybe, I don't make the grade. 

...when I want to turn the cow into steak.

...when I never want to put myself out there in an attempt to sell products ever again.

...when I don't want to leave the house. 

But I'm not called to be perfect. 

I'm called to be faithful. 

These last few months are maybe the first time I've started to be okay with that.

I've told y'all before that I'm a business owner, (now) blogger, student, and wife. The Hubster and I got married 6 months and 1 day ago. I promised myself that I would do it all...perfectly. I would keep the house clean, cook, work, and study--and my GPA would not just stay the same, it would be better. After all, I'm only taking 14 hours, right? HA!
The house is usually picked up, but I don't mop every week any more. You know, we're all fine with that.
I do still cook, but more often in the crockpot. Again, no shame there. Crock pot soup is yummyyyy.
Work, hey, I started a company. I'm not a Fortune 500, but I loooove my job.
That GPA thing. It didn't get better, but it's still quite self-respecting. The perfectionist within has been screaming all semester that I'm a slacker and should get my act together. But, other than relatively minor bouts of stress where I've listened to that voice, I've taken steps toward more balance than I've had before.
I do what needs to be done. I do it well, but I'm not killing myself. And, do you know what, it's a wonderful thing to have time and energy to go to the gym, cook, create, even read a bit, spend time with friends, and babysit. I love it. I feel life my life is full and rich. I love that, once the hubster gets home, I pack all the homework up, and we spend a couple hours watching Burn Notice, playing games, and reading old favorites like Cheaper by the Dozen and My Side of the Mountain. And, perhaps most surprising of all, I sleep well and (usually) enough each night.

So why won't that little voice shut up?
What is it about our lives that is so out of whack that I feel a twinge of guilt when I choose to work on a painting or my knitting rather than putting those hours into writing the perfect Sociolinguistics essay?
Think about that, I'll get back to it in a second...

Until maybe a month ago, I assumed I would go to grad school as soon as I graduated with my BA. At one point I even looked at attending Oxford (and if spousal visas to England hadn't been so complicated, I might have spent last weekend in Atlanta interviewing for a scholarship, but alas, that opportunity ended before it began because you can bet your bottom dollar that I'm not going to spend months on end away from the hubster). But as the time came to apply, I became increasingly uneasy about the student debt that would be involved, the time, starting the school thing all over again, etc. After weeks of angst, a lot of time in prayer, and conversations with a few close people, John and I came to a place of peace. For right now, barring some variable we don't see at the moment, I'm going to take some time off after I graduate and see what life after school looks like--focus on Mes Aventures, Crafts & Co., maybe work at Barnes and Noble, get involved at church, breathe. Maybe the MAT will come in a year, maybe 25, I don't know, but I think that's okay.

But why was it such a hard decision?
Why have I struggled with guilt over, shall we say, "tweaking" my achievement expectations?
(here's a hint in case you've been up on the conversation at Covenant College this Fall--it has nothing to do with technology).

We live in a world where all of us are increasingly pressured to DO and BE something. And if our results, our DOING and BEING, cannot be measured in some way, we feel a twinge of failure. I probably won't achieve Summa Cum Laude next Spring. Two years from now, I probably won't be changing lives in a middle school classroom by being the best English teacher ever (haha). I wanted those things. Part of me still does. But I am not any less by not being or doing them. I'm still a child of God, and maybe His calling right now is more about living and learning than doing or being.

We are not called or meant to DO or BE in and of ourselves.
We are followers. Disciples.

I quit the rat race, y'all.
That doesn't mean I don't want to live life for all it's worth anymore--it means I DO want to live life for all its worth.
Sometimes that will mean hard work, stress, achievement.
Sometimes it will mean a cup of tea with friends when I "should" be elsewhere.
Remember what I said in my post about the old, comfy sweater? Stuff, even GPAs, don't last.
People do.
Invest in relationship, encouragement, growth.
Invest in love.

To tweak Steve Brown,
"Let's think about that. Amen."

Adventure well; Live fully.
HAK

PS I still teared up a bit when my French oral assignment was less than awesome this evening...it's a process... 

Fun Facts...

How about a little "behind the scenes" tour at Mes Aventures, Crafts & Co. tonight? 

Let's see...you already know that I'm a newlywed finishing up an English undergrad, but I guess that's just about about it. For starters, here's ten fun facts about me:

1) I live on top of a mountain. My school is the highest point of the mountain accessible by car. Yes, by Georgia standards at least, it is colder up here than in the valley.  

Covenant College. Lookout Mountain, GA. 

 

2)  I love fish. Yes, I enjoy eating them (remind me to post about how I bake fish sometime), but I'm talking in general. Not eating, not fishing, just fish. I'm absolutely in love with the Tennessee Aquarium. Also, I've had 5 goldfish, a betta, and a tank of guppies (that was for quite a few years). I tried to get another betta this summer, but it turned into a cat. That's a whole 'nother story, though. 

The Proper Care of Guppies

by Stan Shubel

Don't ask how many times I've read this. 

3) I'm mostly a self-taught artist and knitter. I've had a lot of nudges along the way and some good tugs to get me un-stuck at times, but I don't have an art degree, and I've never been to a knitting class.  

Many thanks to whoever created this little 

gem of brilliance! 

4) I love Burn Notice. a lot. I would say "too much," but I'm in denial. If you don't believe me, go back a couple months on my twitter to the time of the season 7 finale. In a perfect world, Fi would be my alter ego. 

5) Speaking of Burn Notice, I don't look like Gabrielle Anwar when I paint, but I wish I did. 

6) I really enjoy cooking. And the best part? So does the hubster. He makes awesome bread that looks like this: 

 7) This is harder than I thought, y'all... let's see... I've been to 46 states and 45 state capitols. We have Utah, Idaho, Washington, Alaska, and Hawaii left. Which state do you think I've been to but not been to the capitol? 

 

 Thank you, Robert Quigley of geekosystem.com.

8) Most of my overseas travel has been to South East Asia: India (3 times), Indonesia, and Cambodia (I've also been to Guatemala and the UK). 

 9) I have far more books than the average person. You thought I was exaggerating.... Those wood shelves are 6 feet tall, built by the hubster (and this doesn't include the majority of my children's lit books...).

10) I'm a Christian. That may be kind of obvious if you a) know me or b) have been reading these posts regularly, but it's something y'all should know. If it bothers you, I'm going to do my very best not to make you feel uncomfortable on here. If you want to challenge me, please, I'd love to talk. But I'm not going to avoid it. I'm going to be real about my faith, just as I would expect you, dear readers, to be honest about yours. This is a safe, fun place. Let's be honest with each other. 

WHEW! Ten things was more of a task than I expected! I don't know if that means I'm super interesting or super boring...hm... 
Anyway, I was going to also share about our little Burrow, but my list ended up being a bit longer than planned. Maybe next time! :-)

Until then, Adventure well; Live fully. 
HAK 


PS Pretty please leave your comments below! (Like what you think the answer to the question in #7 is!) :-)

PPS Bonus Fact: 11) I speak French, well, a little. I'm taking classes. I love it more than I am good at it. haha.

"All Shall be Well…"

All shall be well 

& all shall be well 

& all manner of things shall be well.

My favorite authoress, Madeleine L'Engle, penned these words inside the cover of my copy of her book, The Summer of the Great Grandmother. I actually didn't notice the autograph till after I had bought the book second-hand, and it was a delight to find. But this isn't about her lovely handwriting or even the thrill of having her signature in one of my books. This is about the wise reminder of those words and the wise words within the covers of the book she signed. 

A month ago today my best friend's mama went Home to be with Jesus. A month ago I was sitting in the hospital with my friend and her family--overjoyed that she was back from Africa and delighted more than words can say to hug her again, and yet devastated by the reason for her return. The drive from Lookout Mountain to Atlanta was so long that night. Before I even turned my wheels south, I knew I was going home to grieve. I ate chips and a Mojo burrito as I sat in traffic leaving Chattanooga. How did I do that so calmly? Just afterward the tears started. There were and have been a lot of tears. 

Not seven months earlier we had all gathered when another dear friend's mama went Home. Two mamas. Two friends. One year. The weight of grief is so very heavy. 

For nearly a month now a beautiful, young face has smiled back at me from the front of the binder where I keep my school notes. She was so healthy, so full of life. None of us have answers for the questions feel, the questions we carry with us daily like jewelry made of lead. 

I go searching for her, Madeleine wrote, describing her struggle to remember her mother even as she watched her mother waste away with age. We've all gone searching this month--searching our memories, digging through years of photos, finding videos that captured the laugh that any one of  us could have picked out of a crowd. We've gone searching, too, for each other. Searching for the arms of friends who can grieve well with us. As I told still another friend (there's a generous handful of us who might as well be sisters), "This is why we have each other. We do life together."

Hope. We search for hope. At our home-church, we don't have "funerals" in the dirge-y, morbid sense. We celebrate lives lived for a King and Kingdom of Hope. We all wore bright colors and red toe nails to the celebration last month. Without the hope of Home, life and love are meaningless. 

Ousia. Madeleine's word of choice that summer all those years ago. The essence of being, that which is really real. Only by dying do we see the really real. Those of us who are grieving now are growing a deeper Hope than we had before. Madeleine would say that we're practicing dying. To die well, she says, includes dying to ourselves in bits even now. "It has nothing to do with long-faced self-righteousness, with pomposity or piously. It does not preclude play or laughter. It is light, not heavy; merry, not sad; and it is realistic and never sentimental." As we practice dying, we realize that our eyes are more Homeward than before.

My friends' mamas died well. From our eyes, it was far too soon, and they are too well loved and needed here to be gone. But their days were measured before they breathed their first. They were ready; they knew the glory that was waiting. I want to be ready like them. 

Let my last breath here
Be my first with You
Where You rob my fear
And You make me new
So whatever comes
Whatever I go through
Let my last breath here
Be my first with You

…

I'll join with all the saints

And lift my voice

When I see Your face

Through tears of joy

~Phil Wickham, "Tears of Joy"