Lilley of the field

A dear friend commented on my last blog post and noticed how the last post before I broke finger included this line: "What if is brokenness is an opportunity to experience healing?" Wow. Moral of the story? Be careful what you write. But of course there are way bigger morals to the story- such as God loves to heal. He will take care of my every need. He will never leave of forsake me. It is bright, sunny and warm outside. Spring is announcing itself with unfurling leaves, swaying branches, and chirping bird making sweet morning melodies. Six weeks ago there was an ice storm and a new dog. To this day, six weeks ago, on the first day of Lent, I broke my finger chasing that new dog through the snow. Now all that remains is a tiny, red knob where the bone grew back, some very minimal swelling, and stiff muscles. I have learned so many things throughout the last six weeks and probably will have to keep relearning so many of them, but the beauty and difficulty of healing has o...

We awoke to a thick, glorious blanket of snow on the ground this Thursday morning. Knowing school was already cancelled, I proceeded to make a delicious breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast because while everyone was picking up milk and bread at the store yesterday before the storm, what was I getting? Bacon. Snow storms call for it. While eating breakfast, the sun cracked open the morning spilling sparkling light all over the white lawn. It was calling my name. Walking in the snow by myself is like entering this glorious secret that very few know about. Just me and God out there. Except of course it was me, God, Clark, our new dog, and Luna, our old dog. I have since forgiven our new dog for making me chase him into our neighbors yard and break my finger last week. I have since then also gotten creative at accomplishing many mundane, daily tasks. One being walking the dogs. I double Clark's leash and loop it around my right elbow. Then I put the end of Luna's leash ...

I tap and type away here with 7 fingers. Two are bandaged together on my dominant hand rendering my pinky useless while typing. Slow and thoughtful goes my typing and slow and thoughtful goes my heart. Yesterday marks the first day of Lent and with that we marked our foreheads with ashes in the shape of a cross. This day snuck up on us this year. The past few years, I have thoughtfully prayed and chosen a way to embrace Lent either through the giving up of something (like food) or the taking on of something (like silence) in order to draw closer to God, to remember the sacrifice of Christ, and to make room for the Holy Spirit to speak. But I found myself coming up empty handed this year. Last night, we sang songs, lit candles, laughed, confessed, and reflected in our warm living room- a haven from the whipping wind and icy temperatures. We wrote out confessions on paper and burned them together in a bucket, slowly mixing water into it to make the ashes with which we marked...

Wow, it's been quiet here for a while. Like say since last August?! Oh well... no time like the present to be filled with words overflowing :) - - - - - -  "Be very careful, then, how you live —not as unwise but as wise,   making the most of every opportunity,  because the days are evil.   Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord’s will is.   Do not get drunk on wine,  which leads to debauchery. Instead, be filled with the Spirit,   speaking to one another with psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit.  Sing and make music from your heart to the Lord,   always giving thanks  to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ." Ephesians 5:15-20 Make the most of every opportunity. What if opportunities don't always come in a neat box with a pretty bow tied on top?  We often think of opportunities that way. The opportunity to travel overseas? Take it. The opportunity to climb the c...

So this isn't about gardening, but oh well. After writing that post about writing about garden I realized I was almost finished with my last book of summer and I would want to post about them. I am horrible at remembering what books are about and this helps when I write about them. Also, I like to keep track of my favorite books so I can recommend them when people ask. So.... here we go. I first read A Father to the Fatherless: The Charles Mully Story  by Paul Boge. This was given to us by Aaron's mom. She just went to Kenya on  mission trip for 2 weeks and visited the Mully Children Family. Charles Mully is a Kenyan man who went from complete destitution and abandonment by his family to riches. Then he met some street children who had been just like him and felt compelled to help them. He adopted several and that began the MCF. He gave up everything he had for these street children. It is an organization that has grown and now they take street children in and teach them ab...

So I've had this inner dilemma for a while now about this blog. I love to write, but I just have so much trouble now feeling freedom to write anything here. It's not because that many people read it necessarily, it's just that people can and do once in a while and well.... I'm just conscious of that. I once would post my blogs on Facebook, but some of my world's are colliding too much there for me to want to post things so personal and vulnerable. I have a blog to write stories and to be vulnerable and to encourage others and I don't want to stray from that. So I've thought about if I should keep this space, just write like every 2 months like I am doing or turn the focus to something more specific. But everything I think about something different, it just doesn't make my heart sing. For instance: A Teaching Blog- Sure I could post pictures of my classroom and cute things we're doing, but I don't really want to do that and there are plen...

I remember talking with her back when we were in high school as she thought about who would walk her down the isle- whenever that day came. Which of course seemed so far away at the time. But it came. Those church doors opened and every eye turned to see her radiant face and delicate lace white dress as her dad's brother walked her down the isle. The vows were taken, rings exchanges, and kisses given. And then there was a grand celebration. As she slowly spun around on the dance floor under the twinkling lights with several father-figures in her life in lieu of the traditional father- daughter dance, I could only think about how faithful God is. About how He can take anything and make good. About how beautiful it is to see friends that come to follow Jesus and then to see how their journey unfolds over the years. About friends who saw me come to follow Jesus. I stood off to the side with my husband surrounded by long time friends from high school and thought about each of t...