Spring Spring

brother + books

rain for days.

little goat & da bullz.

Today was most unglamorous of days.

A day that I would rather just fall through the cracks of memory, not needing to acknowledge [or admit?] it even happened. Because - hello - bad days are just bad. And that's their story, yes?!

It's the messy moments I so often want to ignore and forget and pretend never happened. And in my feeble attempts to shun it all out, I recall the words spoken by some wise women at a conference I attended this past weekend at an incredible church in this city. They spoke of beauty from ashes. They reminded me of the beautiful in the mess. Still, He is here.

So, at the end of this day I stand - though still waiting for the beauty to come through - clinging to the comfort in those words. And I rest in His Grace. Which is always and forever enough.

returning to this california sunset by kayak in my mind today.

A Note

Here's a portion of a newsletter I sent home with the children in March. 

In celebration of spring & newness of life, here it is:

"On Tuesday, I was alerted on the playground to shrieks of delight as the children gathered in a circle to spy on something in the grass. Thinking it was a bug, and praying it wasn’t an injured child, I hurried over to the location of the anticipated surprise. The children were squealing and laughing and excitedly pulling my arms to bring me closer to the watched object. Through their exuberant shouts, I could barely make out their individual words, but as I got closer I could hear them chatting about the tulip bulbs we had planted in the fall. Thinking they must be mistaken, I dropped to the grass to uncover it with my own eyes. There it was – a tiny green stem beginning to sprout from a bulb under the earth. The whole class was now gathered around the tree, staring at this piece of nature in awe and delighting in the beauty of growth. Could it be that spring is really coming after all?!

There are so many important lessons to teach children as they grow, but then there are things you simply cannot teach. The independent discovery of the miracle in nature brought fascination and curiosity to the students in a way nothing else can. When we planted the bulbs in October, I told them they would grow into flowers in the spring – but telling and discovering bring two different outcomes. To see excitement and laughter organically rise in children over something so simple as a tulip bulb is the sheer blessing of working with Kindergarteners. Giving the children a lens to see God’s beauty is something I hope to inspire and model for the children, but I am reminded that it is also the guidance of the Holy Spirit to open the eyes of each child’s heart. He is cultivating a new perception in which to find Him in the everyday; to approach life with childlike wonder is a gift I desire to live out more freely. The more children uncover the mysteries on earth, the more they see God. And that is a lesson even the greatest teacher on earth cannot teach, and brings me to my knees to worship the one true Creator God."

:: Kindergarten Newsletter 3.15.2013

Sunday Afternoons

The sun peeked its way through the winter sky into our living room today, providing the perfect formula for a good read + nap. If it was any other day, it would be difficult to get over the sense of guilt I often feel in watching the daylight hours pass by.... but I learned at an early age that Sunday afternoons are sacred. On Sundays, you throw away the must-do, get-done, shopping list mentality. You stop. You pause. You slow down. 

Sunday is the gift of being lazy, getting cozy, and breathing deep before the week.

Lying on the couch with my face to the sun beams, glancing at Ashley curled up on the couch across the room, I returned to that sense of safety I often felt when I was young during the precious hours after church and before family dinner on Sundays. 

On Friday, I was chatting with some friends about the difference between being nostalgic and sentimental. Though I'm often a sentimental person, it rarely swings into a sense of nostalgia. But today I felt nostalgia return in its purest sense, remembering those slow Sunday afternoon hours spent at home with my family - dinner and resting - a feeling of peace that sprang from knowing we were all together. 

And for me, togetherness is the best kind of feeling.

And sometimes it's the simple things - a Sunday afternoon of doing nothing special - that show me there's really no other place I would rather be but here.

One Coast to the Next

After a 2 week hiatus from winter via coastal escapades in California and Florida, today I officially return to real life, with a countdown of 59 days until summer break. My heart is so full of the best friends I got to spend time with in the past two weeks... and I'm also exhausted more than I ever thought I could be. How does that always end up happening on vacation?!

Bridesmaiding on the beach in FL.

Rehearsal.

My sweet Jackie, who is now Mrs Arnold!

My glimpse of sun & beach have caused my thoughts to drift over to summer... those lazy mornings and slow afternoons... to the taste of sweet freedom and the joy that comes with it. A friend told me recently that he thinks I am my best self over the summer... and I think that's probably true.

I usually hate countdowns because I feel that it takes away from the beauty in the day-to-day... But in this case, it's necessary. April then May then June, sweet June...