Alley Couch

We’ve been on a bit of a motivated DIY kick over here at the Lily… and it’s a fine line between trash and treasure. From experience, I've learned to never make any huge life changes during these kicks of design enthusiasm (you might end up with a teal room… or a broken bed… or… a room you want to redo every 6 months?!). 

So, I’ve conjured the mindset that the least amount of money put in, the better. Instead of quickly deeming an old scrap of wood or splint of metal “trash,” I’m more apt to call it a new curtain rod, or a headboard, or who knows… a new couch?! In this way, re-designing in my life could equally be called garbage-picking, perhaps for the less refined in their efforts. 

So - given my new outlook on life - I sent this photo to my roommate on a morning walk.

Excuse the blur. And just ignore the graffiti...

It’s obviously a dilapidated couch – but it has some potential right?! 

I later found out (thank you kind neighbor) that the couch has been there for weeks – probably rotting in mold and a new home for creatures that crawl.

Weeks?! Really?! ... Right next door?

I guess when you’re not looking for something, you rarely find it. But with eyes wide open on a hunt for apartment treasure, you find it’s all around you – in alleyways, under trainstops, hidden behind doorposts or wedged between shops.

How much beauty do I pass through everyday without a second glimpse? How many people may be struggling with a pain I have also been through sit next to me on the train? How many soft breezes or vibrant colors or still moments of peace do I experience and ignore?

Beauty is not something necessarily striking. It is found when you open your eyes to see it. And it is here. Because after I found that couch right next door, I suddenly noticed these lovely gems hidden on my street.

Neighbor's summer pots.

back of Starbucks.

red door. blue door.

finally, back home again.
even my porch steps bring me comfort & peace.

Sometimes all it takes is an upside-down couch to bring new eyes to the world HE has made.

What else am I missing because I’m not looking?

"Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you." ::Matthew 7:7

Here's a taste of the kiddos I spend my days with...
A little video we made for Mother's Day. Enjoy!

(I am an iMovie amateur... so don't judge the video quality + lack of audio here. Apparently Mikey got all the film genes in the fam ;))

Mid-May

Truth: I am diving into the last full week of school and I could not be more ready for summer.

It's this time of year that everything School comes with a bit of year's-end-nostalgia... while teaching ideas are rapidly replaced with summer dreams. 

Last year I dug my heels in and embraced being a summer city dweller. 

My weeks consisted of runs, bikes, beach, festivals, patio beers, music Mondays, film, and exploring a city so dear to my heart. Although it was the most restful & refreshing way to spend last summer, I find myself hesitant to repeat the many schedule-less days waiting for my roomies to get off work and play with me. 

So I find myself torn between two good options: enjoy my city that comes alive during the summer or travel to far away places that offer adventures unknown.

the lake on the city.

I know - I am lucky to have such choices. But also feeling divided in my heart. Sigh.

Either way - summer is almost here and I.can't.wait.

A Weekend of Mine

There are a few things you can expect when Jenny comes to town: outfit swaps, good coffee, silly adventures, & lots of delicious sweets!  

And this weekend was no exception...

A picnic on a cloudy day, afternoon coffee & blueberry buckle, cinco de mayo margs, and a sleepover with Jenny & Britters in the big city.

I am thankful every day for the way these girls bless my life!

{photos taken on Pentax 50mm film}

A Tune that's True

Can't get enough.

Faithful

{"Faithful" by: Enter the Worship Circle}

Why My Mom Is The Best

Ever since I was a little girl, I have admired and looked up to my mother. Trying on her high heels as she got ready to go out, I knew I would never be as grown-up and beautiful as my mom. 

She greeted me each day with an eager smile and spark of energy, asking me how many swedish pancakes I wanted for breakfast. She was my Room Mom for each grade (when that was cool) and made me a birthday cake of my choice every year since I can remember. My brothers and I would joke that she had a "story of the week" for all the neighbors around town, as she bounced from the library to the grocery store to our activities in her tennis skirt. 

In the winter, my mom was energetically shoveling snow off the driveway in the same pink snowsuit she still wears, even as neighbors made circles around her with their snowblowers. She stayed up late to help me as I cried through my math homework, she always let me punch the bread down before it went into the oven, and she was my biggest encourager when I felt like nobody was. She rode her bike so I could have the car, she brought me lunch when I forgot it, and she bribed me to go on a missions trip that ended up changing my life. She empowered me to make my own decisions - for better or worse - she taught me how to choose Truth. 

Yes - it was always obvious - my mom was the very best in the whole world.

Now that I'm 25... my mom and I share clothes (truth be told: I came home from Spain to many little items of mine "misplaced" in her closet... ;)), and I know my mom isn't perfect. 

But she's still the best. 

Her sacrifices for me & my brothers have been unending. My mom makes the details of my life a priority - from traveling near and far to see me play in badminton & drill team, to flying down to SING, to backpacking in northern Spain, to visiting the chicks in my Kindergarten class... she has never stopped making me feel important. 

She is my supporter and my strength and my biggest fan. She speaks truth into my ears and believes the best for me. She is who I call when I am homesick in Waco, or don't know where to find something in the grocery store, or after I know I said the wrong thing to a friend, or when I feel the weight of being a first year teacher. She is Home to me - she has created the sense of refuge, unconditional love, and safety that defines what a home really is.

For me, being a mom always seemed effortless because of Mickey. But I now understand a bit more clearly what it takes to have a child... and I know it always requires sacrifice to give attention and value to another human every second. For my mom, it was never out of obligation, but always out of deep heartfelt love.

She has given me what nobody else can - an example of the mom I hope to be someday.

Even There

When everything seems to go wrong in a period of 1 hour 

and it's been a bad day 

and I feel like shambles... 

somehow there are slight glimpses of Life 

that bring me a smile I didn't think was possible.

returning home to a cactus in a mug makes everything better.

"...even there Your hand will guide me, Your right hand will hold me fast."

Psalm 139:10

Please.

21 days ago, I was a little wary to take on the role as Kindergarten Teacher Chick Hatcher.

I knew it was the staple unit for our grade level... but I'm not naive to the truth that I lack skills in the area of Things That Take Daily Maintenance. Oh how much I have learned since the days of the over-achiever teacher (Sept & Oct) when I stocked my classroom full of live plants and tadpoles. In November, when I was left with empty pots and flushed tadpoles, I decided it was time to give up dreams of being the teacher I really hoped I could be.

24 eggs, an incubator, a thermometer... what could go wrong?

So naturally, I downplayed the excitement of the 24 eggs entering our classroom, knowing the likelihood of hatching was slim to none.

As in most cases in Kindergarten, their 5 year-old minds never take on the fears that so often run through mine: A) I am a first-year teacher in Kinder and most of the time I sing and dance my way through learning, and B) I have never hatched chicks, despite a 5-hour Embryology training program that should have prepared me.

Of course, I readily assume the role they've deemed me as Chick Expert.

Given the two obvious reasons why these chicks have no chance at hatching, I'm not completely in shock that day 21 comes and goes without a single peep. In fact, I already mentally resorted to Plan B and rearranged my schedule to swipe some chicks from Kindergarten at our Northfield campus and forget all about our "bad eggs."

thwarting off the enemies...
an initial attempt to disguise my technique and increase my chances.

As Day 21 progressed, the influx of emails and photos of cute fuzzy friends at the NF location started to up the motivation with having something to show for myself in Chicago. Okay, so I don't place in the ranks of 30 years of experience or live/eat/breathe teaching day-in day-out; I don't take curriculum or grading or craft-making home with me, and I didn't come to school at 4am to roast the turkey for the Thanksgiving Feast. Obviously the odds are against me here, but really - technically speaking, what did I do wrong?

They say that in desperate times you are drawn to God.
This was quite clearly one of those moments.

just one? please?

So with one final ditch effort, I sat by that incubator last night and prayed. I prayed that God would give me just one little chick. We're not dreaming too big over here - not an entire brooder box full, or for the specific egg we had been measuring... in fact, if he's deformed or crippled, I'll take it. Just one... please?

Today was Day 22. I trudged to the incubator in prep for the inevitable disappointment.

But it seemed that somehow, somewhere, the God of the Universe heard a little teacher cry. And not only was a chick peeping in its egg, it was hatching out of his shell in that very instance. All at once, I felt the silent mark of approval; feeling In with the crowd of teachers who have gone before me in this feat, entering the bracket of those with hidden secrets to hatching. In my whole year of teaching, I knew in this moment I had arrived.

the fighter. he made it.

And by the end of Day 22, we cling tight to our one little survivor chick, named Peeper by the show of hands. He is so much more than he will ever know... a miracle chick & the one that made me into the Kindergarten Hero... and a glimpse at trust and what it feels like to know it's worth it. A boost of confidence at the end of the year, right when you start to doubt they've learned anything valuable for the next grade.... a jumpstart into May - the last month of teaching... and a silent pat on the back for a job well done.

i think i'll keep him.

Thank you Peeper... and how do you feel about being a house pet?