A blanket of rest visits Maryland

A glorious noreaster has blown in about 23 inches of snow this weekend. What an incredible way to end a semester; thank you Jesus! Snow storms are such a wonderful reminder that though we think we are in control of our lives, something as little as frozen water molecules can turn us upside down. We all have to stop and look at the world. We are forced to rest. And what an awesome sight to see the world silent in a white SPARKLING blanket of snow. For a moment the world is so peaceful. It is one of my absolute favorite experiences; the sound of nothing but snow falling and the look of everything so beautifully crystallized. It is a time to rest and play with the people closest to you. Even the people you meet on adventures out into the storm, there is an exchange and care for eachother that does not usually occur on a regular basis.

I love the hot drinks, board games, puzzles, movies, and books that can be experienced without worrying about what needs to be done on a snow day. A bonding little surprise with the ones you love, and a vibrant reminder that God is in control and he will bring us rest.

Confessions from a granddaughter of a domestic goddess

In the spirit of my dear friend Becca. Who has a fabulous food blog, gourmet cooking on a dime, I have decided to share one of my family domestic goddess secrets. Well, it may not be a secret after all but still worth sharing.

Growing up if anyone of my siblings (there are seven of us!) stained a beloved piece of clothing it would be taken immediately to my grandma. She is one of those fabulous women who know how to pinch a penny, but believes in buying quality items and taking care of them. She is a guru of house care and can tell you anything from where to get a quality bra, who can re-sole your favorite boots, to how to get blood out of the sofa. The only domestic quality she lacks is the ability to cook, which my mom makes up for.

So yesterday when I spilled the yam maple-butter sauce all over my new cute (and potentially long-term) shirt dress, I knew where to go. I had simply washed it, but the oil stain remained. So I called grandma immediately. Whatever you must do, DO NOT DRY a stain, the dryer heat sets the stain and its a goner by then. This is what my grandmother told me, when you get the stain if you are not in the immediate vicinity of stain remover, spit on the stain. Spit has enzymes that can break down the stain. Once home a paste of baking soda and water can be applied to the stain and allowed to sit for 30 minutes. Also lemon juice can be applied to the stain. If these are unavailable dishsoap can cut through grease stains (which was eventually what got the butter out of my dress!) If none of these work, I call my grandmother again, she has more secrets or take it to the dry-cleaner (they are pretty amazing and were able to get chinese food grease out of my favorite trenchcoat!)

Happy stain removal!

Reflections on Fifth grade

When I was nine years old I entered the third grade at a new public elementary school. Before this year I had been going to a private christian school, and the transition was rough on me to say the least. I threw up the first three days of third grade because I was so nervous. In my first few weeks there it was apparent that I was behind all the other students in math and writing, struggling to keep up. Thankfully I had a most wonderful teacher, Mr. Turner, who was quite the pusher. He met with my parents and told them I was smart but needed to just work hard to catch up. My parents were incredible and tutored me every night, always pressing me to work "maximum" not "minimum" in my homework. Well, it worked.

Fast forward two years, I graduated fifth grade, class valedictorian. Silly little award I know. But I was presented with a gift from my principal, a framed poem, called 'Don't Quit'. I loved that poem and memorized it in the weeks to come. I still love it and had no idea how much it would correspond with my life journey. Not that I've had many hardships, just in how life can be difficult at times. I almost always reflect back on it. I thought I would share:

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road you're trudging seems all uphill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest, if you must, but don't you quit.

Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As every one of us sometimes learns,
And many a failure turns about,
When he might have won had he stuck it out;
Don't give up though the pace seems slow--
You may succeed with another blow.

Often the goal is nearer than,
It seems to a faint and faltering man,
Often the struggler has given up,
When he might have captured the victor's cup,
And he learned too late when the night slipped down,
How close he was to the golden crown.

Success is failure turned inside out--
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems so far,
So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit--
It's when things seem worst that you must not quit.

A time for change

A butterfly begins his journey as a caterpillar. He hatches from an egg and crawls out an ugly little worm. A worm who lives to eat. Gorging himself he gains strength to build a cocoon and energy to live through the period of metamorphosis. He grows strong and big. A cocoon he begins to weave around his body securing himself for up to two weeks. Inside he cannot move his mouth or legs, his movement is limited to wriggling his body. His skin begins to soften and stress marks appear, out tears his next body, not yet a fully formed. Over the next few days he grows and changes into a fully developed butterfly. And when he is finished he cannot yet leave. He must break through the cocoon, tearing the silk to be free. It is a painful process. And yet to prevent him from it, or even to aide him in his emergence would be to his detriment. The tearing strengthens his wings, it this final step that allows him to fly.

Thanksgiving

I had the worst day yesterday. So glad I have a little family formed in Baltimore that helps me through days like that. Community, and I mean real hard formed community which takes time, love, and a lot of grace and talking... that is what got me through yesterday. I'm so glad I am blessed with such community.

My journey to become a disney princess

I had to move room the other day as my ceiling was leaking from all the rain and its been leaking for awhile now. Even after rerubberizing the roof, so they will have to cut into the roof and with jonathan moving and getting married it was decided that i would move into his room.

So after a long day of me and dan moving my bed and everything else into my room and setting it up a bit, I was feeling great. This room set up feels more peaceful and comfortable than my last even though its smaller. I was loving the set up, and dan and i finished the evening with yummy rice and veg while watching the collector on my laptop in my room. (finishing the meal off with tea and berries and cream!)

I went off to bed that night feeling great and ready for a full nine hours night of sleep! When I heard a little scratching noise, and I knew it was a mouse. I decided to write it off because its on my floor and will just run around like those little creatures do in my house sometimes. But the sound was getting closer and closer, and i looked over to the wall side of my bed and a little furry creature was running down my bed!

I jumped up and went downstairs because dan was sleeping on the couch. He set a trap and offered to switch bed arrangements like a true gentleman, but i knew if i didn't sleep in my bed that night i would be more fearful the next night. And this is it. Its either move out or name the mice and talk to them while they are in bed. This is where I'm living.... I don't have any other options. (i mean its not totally true but anyother option would be extremely inconvienant and i believe you make it in life by buying oneway tickets and sticking through the hard shit. ) Anyway I went back to bed. Didn't sleep well at all that night, couldn't sleep for hours but finally drifted off to find the mouse dead in the trap the next evening and finding myself more and more comfortable in my room. Stilling praying each night and trusting that God is bigger than the little mice that might crawl into my bed.

Healing through giving.

So I found myself again on one of my favorite websites, www.postsecret.com. A community mail project that was started many years ago by a man named Frank Warren. He provided for people an address to send in decorated postcards with their secrets, deep and dark or funny and light alike and select ones are posted on the website. The project took off, it has made rounds as an exhibition in art museums, the cards have been released in a series of books, and it has been a movement which has given many hope.

Anyways I was on the website and one of the cards really touched me it read, " Working with cancer patients has helped me stop having suicidal thoughts." and i thought how brilliant is this? thats it really it isn't it. So often we are told that our lives happiness lies in self-fufillment or even in therapy in finding "our wounds." Which I will say working through our wounds is important but its really through serving others we take the focus off of us and we are happier and we get healed in the process. I'm not saying go do and push your problems under the rug; I'm saying we find fufillment not in focusing on ourself as our culture tells us, but in doing as Jesus did and serving others. Ironic, countercultural, and anti-self help at times it is what it is.