2012--Year in Review

If there is anyone still out there that thinks about reading my blog, then you are well aware that 2012 was far from a stellar blogging year--less than 15 posts is pretty miserable, actually.

2012 was, in fact, one of the hardest years I've experienced yet.

It went something like this..
.
January my beloved Grandma C. passed away quite unexpectedly (even though she was nearly 92, it was still unexpected).
March I interviewed for a new full-time position at my workplace.
April I started my new job in the children's department at the library and loved it--my favorite job to date, I loved just about everything about it, including the explosion of brain creativity I experienced as I planned crafts and programs.
May my beloved Grandpa C. passed away, after 4 very long months of missing Grandma (just shy of his 92nd birthday as well).
June Jeremy interviewed for a new job in the city we'd hoped to return to--the place we both still consider home, near most of our family--but he wasn't selected.
July we took a camping vacation up into Traverse City, MI. Three days before our departure date, Jeremy got a call requesting a phone interview the following week--smack dab in the middle of our anticipated, restful vacation. Phone interview = successful. Restful vacation = unsuccessful.
Somewhere along in here my Grandma J. fell and fractured her neck.
August Jeremy flew out for an in-person interview with the same library system. I attended my last yoga class with my favorite instructor of 2 years--though at the time I didn't know it was my last class.
September I was involved in a hit and run accident with a semi--thankfully I was unharmed and my car, while scraped and dented, was fully functional after a new set of tires. And they eventually tracked down the driver, who'd gone to Canada, and his insurance covered everything
Jeremy was offered a job. We put in our 2-weeks notice with our current jobs.
We flew out to find an apartment over our months-ago-planned and anticipated restful 4th anniversary vacation. Apartment hunting = successful. Restful anniversary vacation = unsuccessful.
Another car accident, this one minor and involving Jeremy.
Within 3 weeks we'd packed up and were moving a 1000 miles across country.
October-December has been filled with settling in to a whole new state, new job, new apartment, church-hunting, and all that moving entails. I celebrated a birthday. We celebrated Thanksgiving and Christmas here. We still haven't found a church, or really any social outlets. Additionally, somewhere along the way my dad was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease.

In the midst of this monumental year, I've read numerous books (which perhaps I'll be inspired to finish cataloging here as I left off about 1/3 of the way through the year), though the count is way down from last year. I've cooked numerous meals, though only a handful of dishes were featured on the cooking blog I share with my sister--that's fizzled, momentarily at least, as well. And I found out there would be an addition of a new niece and a new nephew in 2013.

2012 has sort of kicked my butt in many ways. However, I've seen God at work too and I know that's because I've needed to throw myself at His feet asking for guidance so very many times. He has been close. Earlier in the year I read Choosing Gratitude by Nancy Leigh DeMoss and right now I'm just about to finish up Calm My Anxious Heart by Linda Dillow. Both books have been convicting and encouraging reads to focus my heart and mind on Christ Jesus because He is my all in all.

As 2011 turned into 2012 I remember thinking/hoping that 2012 would be a better year. It didn't turn out remotely how I expected. So, I'm taking away any pre-conceived expectations for 2013 because I have no idea what this year will bring. What I do know is that God will be here as my source of peace and strength and hope.

The Meaning of Marriage

Marriage has been on my mind recently in part because Thursday is my fourth anniversary! And while I've grown in my understanding of marriage and in my role as a wife over these four years, there is still so very much I do not know. Each year has its own personality bringing joys and challenges (and there are phases where one seems to outweigh the other!). I have never been stretched as much or learned so much about myself. Marriage is a rather mysterious union. Don't get me wrong, it is wonderful, I love my husband more today than I did at our wedding! But marriage is also incredibly hard work as it requires the dedication, love, and harmony of two sinful people. It is my hope that I always desire to continue to grow and learn about marriage and being a godly wife. To that end, each year I try to read at last one book about Christian marriage, right now I am reading The Meaning of Marriage by Tim Keller. Only three chapters in, I've already found much food for thought.

While reading last night about the need for selflessness, Keller wrote this: The Christian principle that needs to be at work is Spirit-generated selflessness—not thinking less of yourself or more of yourself but thinking of yourself less.

Further on, he discussed the life-changing possibilities of being completely immersed in the knowledge and work of Jesus. And while this is not marriage specific, I found the following paragraphs insightful. They also created in me a desire to know Jesus more deeply!
What, then, would the effect be if we were to dive even more deeply into Jesus’s teaching and life and work? What if we were to be so immersed in his promises and summonses, his counsels and encouragements, that they dominated our inner life, capturing our imagination, and simply bubbled out spontaneously when we faced some challenge? How would we live if we instinctively, almost unconsciously, knew Jesus’s mind and heart regarding things that confronted us? When you received criticism, you would never be crushed, because Jesus’s love and acceptance of you is so deeply “in there.” When you gave criticism, you would be gentle and patient, because your whole inner world would be saturated by a sense of Jesus’s loving patience and gentleness with you.

This does not mean that ever time you are criticized you are consciously, deliberately thinking, “What does Jesus have to say about this?” You won’t have to think it out like that, because if Jesus and his Word are so deeply in there, they will just fortify you, lifting you up. They will be part of you. You look at yourself through his eyes; you look at the world through his eyes. It becomes the cast of your whole mind.

This does not happen overnight, of course. It takes years of reflection. It requires disciplined prayer, Bible study and reading, innumerable conversations with friends, and dynamic congregational worship. But unlike learning other thinkers or authors, Jesus’s Spirit can come and live within you and spiritually illuminate your heart, so that his gospel becomes glorious in your sight. Then the gospel “dwells in you hearts richly” (Colossians 3:16), and we find the power to serve, to give and take criticism well, to not expect our spouse or our marriage to meet all our needs and heal all our hurts.

I hope perhaps you too might find these thoughts encouraging!

7

I just finished reading 7 An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess by Jen Hatmaker. My sister recommended the book a few months back and courtesy of the library, I finally got around to it this weekend. The book follows Hatmaker's 7 month social experiment of ridding her life of excess. She chose 7 categories to target--food, clothes, possessions, media, waste, spending, stress--and created specific ground rules for each 30-day segment. It's a thought provoking read and I think holds an important message in our society of excess. I didn't come away from the book wanting to engage in the same social experiment that Hatmaker involved herself in and I didn't come away riddled with guilt; however, I did come away pondering how I can be a better steward of this world and this body that God has created.

One particular paragraph stood out to me. It really isn't the crux of the book, but it was an important reminder and encouragement for me right now. I thought I'd share it as it might be a particular encouragement to you as well.

Our stories affect one another whether we know it or not. Sometimes obedience isn't for us at all, but for another. We don't know how God holds the kingdom in balance or why He moves a chess piece at a crucial time; we might never see the results of His sovereignty. But we can trust Him when He says press on, cling to hope, stay the course. He is always at work, even if the entire thread is hidden. I might just be one shade of one color of one strand, but I'm a part of an elaborate tapestry that goes beyond my perception.

Summer Pleasures

A few things I've taken particular enjoyment in of late...

Fruit
I've been reveling in big bowls of summer fruit. Particularly the cherries, peaches, and black raspberries from my local CSA share. As well as the blueberries I picked from a nearby organic blueberry farm. I think I'll be heading out there at least once more before the close of the season.

Iced Coffee
I'm a fan of iced coffee. I cold brew it myself so I can have it at whim (decaf, in case you're wondering). But, I discovered something good/bad. :) Panera sells iced coffee ($1.81 for a medium and if you're staying there, it's free refills) and beside the dispenser is cream and vanilla or hazelnut syrup if you want to jazz up your coffee for "free." I'll continue to make my own iced coffee, but I'll be treating myself to fancy iced coffee every once in awhile.

Music
Several years ago, during my junior year of college, I fell in love with the musical group Keane. I loved their piano-driven rock and their first album Hopes and Fears is still one of my favorite CDs. Their second album Under the Iron Sea was also fabulous. Then they released a couple not my favorite albums. So, with hesitant optimism, I looked forward to the release of their newest album, Strangeland.  While nothing will ever quite be Hopes and Fears, I am so pleased that Strangeland is a return to the group's roots. I've been listening to the CD for several days now on my commute to work and I have yet to tire of it. If you've not tried out the music of Keane yet, check your local library and give them a listen.

Saying Goodbye

I don't consider myself much of a poet. But, in my grieving last week at the loss of Grandpa, just 4 months after the loss of Grandma, I found myself penning a poem. This is part of my healing. Part of my learning to say, "Goodbye."

This is my small tribute to Grandpa and Grandma.

Saying Goodbye

As I pass your still form,
I look into your face
and whisper a goodbye.

The word—so meager—sticks
in the hollowness of my stomach
and in the lump in my throat.

Tears run rivers of paltry
good-byes
down my cheeks,
my neck.

No word can encompass
the thirty years of love-filled
hellos    
and
how are yous?

Later, I stroll through what remains
—stuff—
trailing my fingers over hills of
dishes, wallets, tools, shoes.
Ninety years of possessions collected,
chaotic and out-of-place.
So unlike how you lived, unlike even
how you died.

Memories, thick as smoke, rise
from the touch of a kitchen cabinet door,
from the scroll of penmanship across
recipe cards and a well-thumbed copy of Hoyle’s,
from a glance at the ever-vigilant Grandfather clock,
from a seat at the table around which so many meals
began with Father, we pause just now…

You are here,
sort of.

I am told to find a token,
a memory.

I don’t want a thing.
I want you.
Here.
Still.
If I take of what is left,
I acknowledge you are not.

Yet, I take to help say goodbye.

I lift a sewing machine—a mere toy—
crafted by your own hands
and caress the smooth two-toned wood
seamlessly joined as one.
In this small piece I see
the couple you were and the family you built.
With each twist of the knob,
I watch the threaded needle bob
up, down,
up, down,
sewing a rhythmic memory of your life—
dedication, precision, family, laughter, faith, hope, love.

And as I tuck the sewing machine beneath my arm,
I remember our eternity and how
saying goodbye to you today
is an invitation to
say hello again
some other day
in glory.

What I've Been Reading: March/April Edition

I know we're nearly halfway through May already, but I thought I'd bring you my March/April reading list. January came and went and for the first time in several years I didn't set myself any particular reading goals for the year. Instead, I've read whatever has caught my fancy. For this year, it's been a good decision, though I hope to create goals for myself again. But for now, I'm enjoying reading at whim.

I am never at a loss for books. In fact, between work and home I'm constantly surrounded by them. I have a never decreasing stack of books I'm either perusing for information (usually health and exercise related or cookbooks--I have an addiction to checking out cookbooks from the library!) or reading just for the sheer pleasure.

For whatever reason, my reading has been dominated by nonfiction in the last few months. I'd like to highlight three particular books. Real Food by Nina Planck is a thought-provoking book asking the reader to consider their food and eating habits. I tend toward being a thinker about food anyway, particularly because of Jeremy's eating needs. But Planck's book caused me to make a few more changes, the biggest being the kind of milk I buy. I now buy my milk from the farmer. Just about the time I read the book, I local farmer began selling his cream-top, grass-fed milk at the farmer's market. It is of course twice as expensive as conventional milk, but it's a price I'm willing to pay. Plus, the milk is delicious!

I was first introduced to the writings of Lauren Winner while in college. She's written several books about her faith and conversion from Orthodox Judaism to Christianity, which I've enjoyed and appreciated. So, I was quite interested in reading her newest book, Still: Notes on a Mid-Faith Crisis. This is a different sort of spiritual memoir because Winner is examining and questioning her faith after the death of her mother and the demise of her marriage. While I haven't walked through either of those tragedies, I still found much food for thought. After finishing the book, I decided to re-read Winner's book Mudhouse Sabbath. It was just as good the second time around.

Lastly, while I don't have any children, I thoroughly enjoyed reading Pamela Druckerman's book, Bringing Up Bébé. Druckerman is an American raising children in Paris. This book is her exploration of the difference between American and French parenting. It's both interesting and easy to read.

Nonfiction
Real Food by Nina Planck
Girl Hunter by Georgia Pelligrini
Scenes From an Impending Marriage by Adrian Tomine (graphic novel)
Some Assembly Required by Anne Lamott
The Real Elizabeth by Andrew Marr
Still: Notes on a Mid-Faith Crisis by Lauren Winner
Bringing Up Bébé by Pamela Druckerman
Praying in Color by Sybil MacBeth
Mudhouse Sabbath by Lauren Winner
Wild: from Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail by Cheryl Strayed
Thirst (poems) by Mary Oliver

Fiction
Anna and the French Kiss by Stephanie Perkins (YA)
Mr. Popper's Penguins by Richard and Florence Atwater (children's)
A Surrey State of Affairs by Ceri Radford
Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys

My Ponytail

Today I stopped by the post office and spent $2.12 mailing my ponytail. Late last week I parted with 9 inches of hair. Thanks to my mom, I'm sporting a new short, layered, summery cut and the rest of my hair is on its way to Pantene Beautiful Lengths hair donation program.

This is the fourth time I've donated my hair in the past 12 years. But this is the first time donating to Pantene. Previously I've sent the extra locks to Locks of Love. Locks of Love makes wigs for kids with hair loss. Pantene makes wigs for woman who have lost hair due to cancer. I decided since I'm 30 now, maybe it would be nice to donate to a program for women. :)

Every time I cut my hair off for donation I figure it's the last time. And this time it may well be, but I'm thankful I've had the opportunity to share my hair with those in need.