Hands Deep in Life

The thing about life is that it’s always unexpected. Sometimes, life is dotted with celebration two weeks before your anniversary. Sometimes, life is unplanned in it’s own kind of perfection. Sometimes, it’s sitting on the porch surrounded by three-dollar flower pots and transplanting flower life with your husband, handling the beauty of now, and hoping for the beautiful now to flourish and burst into big places.

So I don’t know how all the flowers landed in our shopping cart, but there they were unashamed. It was half food, half spring, and full joy rolling out of that grocery store and into an afternoon that would be an unplanned celebration of the life we are building together as husband and wife. It may as well have been our anniversary.

I love the eclectic beauty of life and I love when it bursts through the creaky doors of my heart demanding that I choose it. And I love when the Life-Giver says, I made this and I made you for me…and I want us to enjoy this day.

So we do. And I ask Ben lots of questions because I’ve no earthly idea how to deal with earth. He shows me and shows me again…and again. We celebrate marriage in a quiet, unacknowledged way just sitting on the porch with flower pots and eclectic beauty. We’ve stolen the soil from our garden plot which is not yet a garden, and we spill it into the life we can do now.

I didn’t know that two weeks before our anniversary we’d be having a party, but here we are. We mix and match the flowers and fill up the colored flower pots with life. And I can’t believe the life we are getting to build together. We fill a little corner with all this abundance both wild and purchased. 

But the thing about unnamed celebrations in unassuming afternoons is that it just begs you to keep going and going. So we do. Ben finds a florescent light fixture fit to be trash and carries it over to our little blue home. With scraps of wood and creativity (that continues to astound me), he builds a hanging planter box.

And I know it will be lovely to watch life spill out of something that started as cast out trash. I can’t believe just how eclectic beauty can be!

I feel a lot like that light-fixture…being made into something else, full of purpose, and filled up with life from the Life-Giver.

But we can’t stop the celebration yet, so we go searching for wild grape roots and I’m climbing up a steep hill for an orange wildflower, then sliding down ungracefully because I still can’t climb things well and I’m not very strong, but it was worth the effort…if only for the adventure and the doing of a new thing (and I’m  learning to be okay with run on sentences that are running with life). 

We didn’t call this afternoon a celebration of any kind. We never even named it. It was just an afternoon bursting with life two weeks before we celebrate the life we’ve been choosing and building together.

Whether or not this post makes much sense, I knew it needed to be written. Life hardly ever makes sense, anyway. It just pushes through creaky doors and comes tumbling in and asks you to live it, because you were given it.

Praising God, my Life-Giver, for dotting my life with afternoons bursting with all kinds of life.


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You Can Celebrate 

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Things I Love about Life

I love the way the sun filters through the window of our little home. I love vacuuming on Saturdays and watching the dog hunt something mysterious beneath the ground. I love flipping the new page of my day calendar and watching the rain fight to be snow.

I love little smiles and big uncontrollable laughs. I love listening to an imaginative game I might have played once. I love being surrounded with bright colors and well-worn dolls twice loved a decade later.

I love laughing with my husband and watching his face crinkle up. I love that it’s just the two of us for now. I love grocery shopping and making plans to budget better. I love listening to the same Christian music over and over again to keep my mind on truth. I love that my husband doesn’t mind the replays at all.

I love deep conversations with a good friend that don’t end until 12 am. I love squeezing a lot of people into our tiny home and maneuvering between the sink and the table. I love that they know which mugs I have in the cupboard, and I love that I get to make a full pot of coffee for the people in my life.

Read more

Reflections, Recaps & Happy 2018!

I’m not sure there has ever been a year that I have had to fall so many times to grasp the truth that God really is JOY and He is all my HOPE..and I can have REST no matter what! On a cold November afternoon, I realized that 2017 was a birthplace of hope, not pain. It took me the majority of the year to truly believe that God was sculpting my heart into hope not grief.

This year has shocked my heart out of its placid indifference. It has had me clinging to El Deah, the God who KNOWS! I have silent screamed, re-learned joy, grieved with God, hoped in Him, found His promises to be true, clung to Psalms 146, and made a truth book to carry with me (literally & figuratively) into battle. This 2017 has defined real hope to my heart. Oh thank you God for this! Read more

Words from the Wasteland

I was gone for awhile.

Beneath the darkest ground.

Cold to the touch– I was hard as death.

Wasteland, Wasteland,

I’ll bury myself here.

Nothing can grow from this ash-made piece of me.

I place two hands above the mound.

Bitter cold in the spring. And fast dead leaves in summer.

Wasteland, Wasteland.

I put my ashes there.

Vigorously watching—half-hoping for the rain.

Whole-needing Light again.

Cold ashes in the ground. Anything, Anything?

Two hands above the mound.

Nothing, nothing. And I am hard as death. Read more