Thresholds

If I didn't have 5 hours to kill on this flight back to Seattle, I probably wouldn't have time to write. Story of my life these days. But it's so worth it! These crazy past few weeks have led us to another Thanksgiving in New Hampshire. And boy, was it a good one!

Some of my favorite things about going home (other than seeing family for the first time) is rounding the corner to see my childhood house. It's a sight I felt comforted by back when I lived there, and possibly even more so now that I don't! The outline has changed. Dad has long since removed the old solar panels from the roof (no point when they don't work). Plus, there's the brand new addition and the beautiful back deck, complete I both a stone fireplace.

Mom and Dad have done some wonderful work on it. As much as I dislike change, these have been changes for the better. We still remember the way things were, and we can see them in home videos and photos. But these improvements make this house feel lived in! It's like they were always meant to be. My grandma and aunt seem settled into their apartment. Dad's basement room is the perfect hangout for the guys when the fire isn't warm enough for them to be out on the back deck. There's still some work to do, but it's looking good.

I've loved seeing the house change and grow, just as our family is changing and growing. Thanksgiving was a mighty celebration, full of gratitude that we could all be there together. My grandma (on Dad's side) suffered two strokes only a week or two ago, but she came and was able to stay quite awhile! And then there were the kiddos. Not one, not two, but FOUR babies were there (plus another on the way). Seeing the next generation play together, smile at each other, or just sit there looking adorable, was a really neat thing. It's like we've crossed a threshold, where the kids have become parents and the parents have become doting grandparents. Everyone seems to have stepped into their new roles joyfully (in spite of the challenges they bring--whether baby woes or "growing [older] pains"). I can't wait for future holidays, when the little ones are old enough to make up games with each other and become friends, as we cousins did. It's an exciting time!

And while we're not on the whole baby bandwagon yet, we're just as thrilled with how our extended family is changing. I LOVE LOVE LOVE being an aunt! And I'm pretty sure my nephew is one of the cutest babies I've ever seen. Rocking him to sleep, making him smile, and knowing that you're holding someone who shares your family's blood...I can't even find words for it! "It's AWESOME!" as my sworn brother would say. :-) Watching my cousins and siblings grow as parents has been awesome too. They give me hope, that I can do it too someday. That the sleepless nights and constantly changing plans are so worth it. And I'll admit, it melts my heart to see my husband as an uncle. His "dolphin squeak" had Benja giggling right from the start...and it didn't get old! (Don't you love how you can count on babies to laugh at all your antics? It's amazing what you find yourself doing for the sake of a baby's entertainment--like hopping up and down while puffing out your cheeks like a chubby bunny...not that I have personal experience...)

I summed up our vacation with the following Facebook status. I only got about three hours of sleep because of it, but when the muse strikes, I must write. It lists some of the things about the past six days that I'm so grateful for, even the hard stuff.

10 Conclusions from our NH Thanksgiving:
1) Pretty sure I have the cutest nephew around.
2) It doesn't matter how many times you eat Thanksgiving leftovers--it's still the best meal of the year!
3) I have never been so close to winning Settlers of Catan...nor shall I ever be again if I keep playing with my husband, sister, and bro-in-law.
4) The fox says, "Silence! I kill you!" (Trust me, we saw one.)
5) I actually like having my birthday close to Christmas, because it let me have the most beautiful, holly decorated birthday cake. (Thank you, family, for the sweetest pre-birthday party! Blowing out 26 candles wasn't so bad after all.)
6) My big sister is a super mom AND my BFF.
7) I'm grateful for a supportive husband who loves seeing me go all "New Hampshire native" for a few days.
8) There's nothing like a seeing the next generation at our family Thanksgiving. So cool!
9) I'll never be too old for Mom's snuggles, Dad's bear hugs, or Gramma's stories.
10) Having family who are also your friends is something I'm grateful for 365 days a year...and saying bye never gets any easier.

Christmastime Is Here

I'm always chomping at the bit when it comes to celebrating Christmas. I do celebrate Thanksgiving and I don't mean to rush it. (I've always thought of it as the first day of the Christmas season anyway, prepping our attitudes and hearts for advent.) Still, in my opinion, less than one month isn't enough to fully experience "the most wonderful time of the year!" So, I usually hang back, keep my Christmas excitement to myself, maybe do a bit of shopping here and there, start generating ideas for our annual newsletter, plan gatherings, and start my advent meditations as soon as the thought arises!

But this year is a little different. A mere three days after returning from Thanksgiving with my family, we'll be leaving for New Zealand--where summer is just getting underway and adventure awaits! (I won't pretend my love of Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit had nothing to do with choosing this vacation spot. You'll be hearing much about our visits to Hobbiton and Rivendell in the near future. Rest assured.) Since we're spending a good chunk of December far from home, I started getting worried about how this holiday season would pan out.

I have a feeling we'll be too busy taking in all the newness of New Zealand to take enjoy many of our traditional pastimes--carols, cookie baking, Christmas music on the radio, classic holiday films, Christmas parties etc. It makes me a little sad, but the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity seems to outweigh that loss. I think I'll be in travel mode and not stop to think about what I might be missing.

"It's Christmas in New Zealand too, you know!"

Yes, thank you. I'm well aware of that. In fact, I'm giddy at the prospect of being in a different country to see how they celebrate Christmas...as a summer holiday, particularly! I'm excited to meet new people and try our hand at living like kiwis (New Zealanders) for a few weeks--at least, nomadic, campervan-traveling kiwis? *sigh* Fine, like tourists! Regardless, it's going to be a unique experience. And, since winters in WA aren't very magical to begin with, we'll be happy to escape to summer for a little bit. (It's not like we're trading in snow, because that might've been another story. I love snow!)

While we're preparing to pack our warm-weather clothes and planing our trip, I'm also thinking about Christmas. Super Husband has given me permission to decorate the house before we leave for Thanksgiving (I have some cedar boughs from my MIL waiting to be made into a wreath ASAP!). And since my half of the family is out east, we'll be bringing all their Christmas gifts with us too...so I've begun shopping/crafting with gusto! Our Christmas newsletter is drafted, but I'll wait to add snippets of travel stories and maybe a photo or two. We'll keep our event schedule pretty basic this year, but might fit in the Pacific Northwest Ballet's "Nutcracker" after we get back. So overall, we won't be missing that much. I just want to be prepared and later look back on this holiday season without regrets.

I understand (and fully agree with) all the frustrations with "commercialized Christmas," made evident by the way some stores have jumped the gun. I get that not everyone is ready to celebrate just yet. Or that the thought of the holidays brings dread to some people. (Sad, but I know it can be truly tough.) But please, don't roll your eyes at me when you see me getting ready for Christmas early this year--I just want to make sure it's celebrated well, and that I'm preparing in a way that prevents stress and busyness later. After all, it's Jesus' birthday! Jesus come to Earth to rescue us! That's reason enough to celebrate...all the time!

Looking forward to sharing this special time of year with many of you! Give yourself permission to start getting ready for Christmas! It'll be here and gone before you know it. And if you're in my shoes and crossing the date line, you get to "skip" one day and live another day "twice!" (Won't that be bizarre...)

Renaissance Woman or Dilettante?

It's the story of my life--too many interests, too many "favorites," and none of them seem to fit together. Throughout my life, I've "seriously considered" (as serious as a youth can be about these things) living in Australia, China, England, Ireland, New Zealand, Hawaii, Alaska, or Florida. My favorite colors are blue, green, brown, and sometimes purple. In terms of fashion, I don't think my style fits anywhere--"I like what I like" was my eloquent response when my mom tried to suggest what my style might be (now you can see why I didn't get far in my modeling career). My hobbies have included being a musher, fisherwoman, Irish dancer, actor, photographer, archer, artist, and writer...mind boggled yet? Mine too!

When I was about 9 or 10, I remember lying awake one night, feeling torn over all my "favorite" cultures. At the time, I was going through an Asian kick, wondering why on earth we weren't at least a tiny bit Chinese. BUT, I already loved Native American stuff (one thirty-second Blackfoot, baby! I hung on to that!) and was discovering our Irish heritage (it was around the time I began Irish step dancing). Of course, I always loved huskies and dog sledding, so throw a little Eskimo in the mix. Plus, I really loved India as a child, because of my early discovery of elephants and all those beautiful, colorful saris. Oh, and Africa! It has elephants too! See my dilemma? Since then, I've accepted that I'll never be Chinese, Eskimo, Indian, or African. *sigh* But I still jump at chances to learn about or experience them more.

It's the same with music. I dread the question "What kind of music do you like?" I usually have to pick one on the fly, but my music collection is a messy melting pot. On any given day, I may listen to Celtic, Indie, instrumental (movie scores make up a huge part of this), contemporary Christian, world, pop, Christmas, AND Disney music. Seriously, I think I give my MP3 player whiplash. Why do I have to narrow it down? This way, I can pick whatever suits my mood. Need some extra encouragement? Contemporary Christian it is! Feeling bubbly? Disney songs are always a nice pick-me-up or a keep-me-up. Variety is the spice of life!

And forget books! I've devoured books in every genre and can't really tag a favorite. I suppose fantasy literature has the longest track record, but I can't really name any contemporary authors for you...in fact, I'm horrible at remembering author names, book titles, and plots in general...so don't ask me for recommendations, or you'll get what I myself am reading at the time (because I'll have seen the cover enough to retain that info for at least a month). However, I can recall that I did, once upon a time, read that book you mentioned, and possibly remember whether or not I liked it. (This makes me a novelty among my fellow English-degree holders and copy editors.)  It's often about impressions for me--I've loved many stories that seemed to come at opportune times in my life, or that touched me deeply. So, no hard and fast "favorites" in the book category.

See a pattern?

My freshman year of college, I discovered the word dilettante--defined by Webster's as "a person having a superficial interest in an art or a branch of knowledge," synonymous with "dabbler" and "amateur." With horror, I thought I'd found the word to describe me in my countless interests. Only a few months before, my college interviewer had tagged me "a Renaissance woman" for having been involved in so many activities and pursuits. I clung to her description, thinking this was the phrase which accurately described me. And in one fateful vocabulary lesson, this "Renaissance woman" was reduced to an unaccomplished dilettante, never going beyond a superficial knowledge of the things I thought I loved.

I never made it to Open Championship in Irish dance. Mushing never want farther than a few runs on trails through the woods with my two huskies (what happened to that dream of racing in the Iditarod?). I've never competed in an archery competition, much to the chagrin of my instructors who told me I had potential. I quit art lessons after only a few years. I gave up on fishing for awhile after I reached the age limit for "free fishing" (it's hard for a teenager to cough up $30 for a license!). I never pursued a leading role in any stage production. I didn't excel in my photography class in college and I still can't figure out how to use my SLR camera. The only writing I've ever had published was a poem in a local poetry magazine--I don't count that one non-fiction story in our college literary magazine.

Renaissance woman or dilettante?

But the more I think on it, the more I realize those things aren't failures. I can't be perfect at everything. I can't even be perfect at one thing! None of those activities or interests were wasted time. They shaped me and brought me among some interesting people. I still enjoy ALL of those things to some degree--even if it's just the memories! However, sometimes I wish more of my interests fit together--ever tried Irish dancing while firing a bow...from the runners of a dogsled?! So far the arts (writing, photography, art/design) have been the only things that can somewhat touch each subject.

Now I'll reveal what prompted this rant. The other day I stumbled across an article about the potential for Disney to obtain the rights to Tolkien's work, with the intent of incorporating it into a theme park. Being a fan of Disney (fostering imagination, discovery, and child-likeness) AND Tolkien (his epic scope and transcendent themes), I wasn't sure what to think of this. A part of me would love to see what Disney came up with and would enjoy visiting another "incarnation" of Middle Earth. Another part of me is a purist, who's afraid they'll butcher everything I love about Middle Earth or "cheapen" it in some way.

Then the writer pulled up a quote from one of Tolkien's letters, that said he would "veto anything from or influenced by the Disney Studios (for all whose works I have a heartfelt loathing)." My heart sank a little. I don't know why I thought Tolkien, in all his deep, philosophical British-ness, would've approved of the spectacle and seemingly simplistic themes of Disney. I guess I didn't think he would ever comment on it! And that was fine by me! I didn't need his approval. But knowing how much he loathed it felt a little like a direct attack on my sensibilities. Of course Tolkien would've objected to his work becoming a theme park...heck, he probably would've objected to the movies too! (And I really loved those!)

So I think what really struck me was the idea that my favorites could be so opposed to one another. I've always known they're very different--as different as Irish dancing is from mushing! What does my liking them both say about me? Does it mean I'm being manipulated by popular culture? (I don't exactly feel as if Disney was forced down my throat.) Does having such varied interests mean I was any less dedicated to one or the other? Or that I'm a wishy-washy person? Tolkien may have thought so. I probably would've been much too "much" for him. (For the record, I think Disneyland would've catered to hobbits and Elves a like--food, song, storytelling, and some thrills mixed in for any adventure-seeking Took or Baggins. Poor Tolkien never had a chance to experience the potential for himself.)

Thank the Lord I married a man who's just as varied as I am! We laugh about how we're glad no one pulled out the "How Well Do You Know Your Bride/Groom" game at our wedding/shower, because we probably would've failed (not because we don't KNOW each other, but because a lot of those questions seem to dwell on "favorites"). I've asked him several times what his favorite candy or candy bar is...and his answer has been different every time. The only "favorite foods" he knows he can count on for me is Near East rice pilaf (yes, that brand particularly), ice cream, and chocolate. The rest changes almost daily, as I suffer from food cravings and aversions even without being pregnant. Isn't that fun? I think unpredictability can be rather nice sometimes!

And all this has led me to reflect on all the unique, albeit strange, things I've done or continue to enjoy in life. It makes me more me than if I had followed one particular thread. If I'd been a strict Disney fan and read/watched nothing else, I would've never discovered Tolkien or Lewis! If I'd been a professional musher, I'd probably be living in Alaska with my 85 dogs, without having met my husband in a small Pennsylvanian college! If I'd made it to Open Championship in Irish dance...I'd probably have had several knee replacements by now!

As it is, I have all these experiences to draw on. It's why I have a little husky figurine on my desk at work. Why it stands right next to a carved elephant my parents brought back from Africa, which sits under my favorite photo from our last Disney World vacation! I can even pick a purple or brown ball at mini golf when someone else picks blue or green! Blessed variety!

Let's see, what other "favorites" do I have that don't really follow a set pattern?

Pancakes

Balloons

Palm trees

Lilies

Butterflies

Coconut-scented things

Baking
...
...
...

The list goes on..."ever on and on." (Thanks for that, Professor Tolkien.)

Bitter Was Their Parting

"There will be grief felt on both sides," Dad said as I was lamenting their departure. Of course, that was only three days into their visit! If I was feeling that sad about them leaving then, you can imagine how I feel today.

No two visits are the same. Each time, even if we do the same things like visit Pike Place or the Space Needle, new memories are made. "Extreme fishing" in 60 mph winds and the banter of Gladys and Walter (Mrs. B and Dad's alter egos) are among the most memorable moments.

We talk about life here--home improvements, Greg's future at his job, and starting a family someday. Yet even as the words leave my mouth, I find them bitter tasting. I have a feeling that my parents' hearts sink a little with each reference to our living out here for many more years...because mine sinks too. It's why I lie awake at night, wondering what it'd be like to pack up our life here and head east. Even though I know better than to indulge in false hopes, it sounds so easy sometimes.

After my visit "home" last spring, I returned west feeling pretty depressed, even though I shed no tears at our parting (which was a first!). A dear friend encouraged me in an email, saying, "I admire you, Tiffany, for your courage and commitment to [your husband] even though it has meant a separation from your dear family. It's truly beautiful, in the Lady Arwen sense." I smiled sadly when I read this. I hadn't thought of it that way before.

If you know me at all, you know how much I love Tolkien's books. So my friend's reference to Arwen shouldn't have come as a surprise. When I used to read the story of Aragorn and Arwen, how he was smitten from the first moment he saw her, how they pledged their devotion to each other on Cerin Amroth, etc., I saw only romance. Even Arwen's choice to forsake immortality and bind herself to the mortal man she loved seemed the heroic and "easy thing to do"--a typical "forbidden romance," if you will. I dreamed of having a story like theirs and wondered what it'd be like to give up something for love. My thoughts typically strayed toward giving up childhood and leaving the shelter of my parents' care for that of my husband. I couldn't fully understand how much that choice would cost and just how hard it would be.

Then, when my own love story unfolded and I found myself facing similar separation from the places and people I love, I somehow forgot their story. (Well, not forgot. It just didn't come to mind like it would've in the days where I drew parallels between the worlds on a frequent basis.)

What a perfect time to be reminded, when I needed that bolstering of hope and a reminder of how this life and love is so worth it! Tolkien understood the meaning of sacrifice and love. (I won't try to "moralize" his work, but one who has been saved by Grace can't help but recognize themes all around her which point to the One who sacrificed most.) Of Arwen's final farewell to her father, whom she couldn't follow to the Undying Lands once she'd bound herself to a mortal, Tolkien says, "Bitter was their parting that should endure beyond the ends of the world." I read over this passage again after my friend's note. And I thought to myself, "I know this!" I have to re-taste that bitterness each time they or we leave again. I read on about how Aragorn and Arwen's family grows, how she embraces her role as queen of Gondor, and how even at the end of Aragorn's life, when faced with yet another bitter parting...Arwen doesn't break! If only that could be said of me.

That's been my prayer today--that Jesus wouldn't let me break. That He'd keep holding me together, even when it feels like my heart breaks all over again with each goodbye. I've accepted that tears are very often a part of the letting go. And that's okay. All I have to do is tell my Love that the tears are close and he's ready and waiting to comfort me with warm hugs and gentle words. He's getting pretty good at this. I'm so glad to have pledged myself to this man--there is no going back to my "Rivendell," and while there is great sorrow in that, there is even greater joy.

Mom and Dad still have a way of caring for us, forever their children, even when we're living under our own roofs. It was nice to get to return the favor in some small ways, and even then, they couldn't seem to stop blessing us with help and surprises this week. I'm still amazed at how they drop everything to travel this far just to spend some time in their daughter's new "realm." And I'm certainly pleased that they like it and want to keep coming back! :)

Dad was right--there was and will always be a little grief on both sides when we have to part. But unlike Arwen, I don't have to say goodbye for good. (Thank Jesus!) I'm just returning to "my new normal"--as you've so often heard me speak about--until it's time to take an eastward journey again.

Back to School

Today was the first day of school for many areas of the US. I've seen all my teacher friends and friends with kids post pictures on Facebook of all the "first day" pomp and excitement--new outfits, perfect hair, gleaming school supplies, and smiling faces at the prospect of the new year. I find myself sharing in the giddiness, but mainly because this "new year" signals the start of a season that leads to the holidays! Halloween/Harvest, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years...all neatly in a row!

In a way, yesterday was my "first day of school" at my new Irish dance school. Sitting in the parking lot (full of mini vans), waiting to go in, I had some of the same anxious feelings as that first day at a new school. That knot in my stomach about who I'd stand next to, what I'd say, and who my friends would be. It was kind of laughable. How old am I?!

I did much more in this first official class: learning steps, meeting people, and pushing myself more. I ended up sweaty and exhausted, but my muscles feel better than after my trial run two weeks ago. The kids all chatted about their first day of regular school in the morning, and I smiled because I was thinking some of the same things about what this new "class" would hold for me. Hopefully friendships, good health, stronger muscles, and the chance to continue in this dance form I love so much.

The other "20-somethings" were MIA last night, but they told my teacher to apologize to me, and that I'll meet them in the coming weeks. I don't terribly mind being the minority age-wise--after all, I was the oldest in both of my archery classes and several acting auditions, and the youngest by far in my Zumba class (it was a Friday morning session, so it wasn't so surprising)! I've just come to expect the age gap with all the new things I attempt to learn and try out. :) But, I am happy there will be others this time, who may be easier to relate to. Talk of cheer camp and homework can only go so far. I'm happy to be 25, let me tell you! Sure, there's "drama" and hormonal/emotional roller coasters in life as an adult, but of a different type. I love coming home to my husband after class, folding laundry, and enjoying a late-night snack on the couch with him before bed. It's a good life!

My dance teachers, a married couple, are quick to praise. I'm noticing that in their teaching style in general. They're encouraging and point out errors graciously. You can tell they truly love this--that it's not so much of a business as a place for them to be creative with dance and watch their work come to life through us dancers. (And, I'll admit, I'm pretty thrilled to be taught by some retired Lord of the Dance and Trinity dancers!) Even this morning, I found an email telling me I did great. I was tickled pink at this gesture after my first visit, and now I just shake my head in wonder. Do they mean it? Or are they trying to "wine and dine" me to keep me around? I'm leaning toward the former, from what I know of them and their personalities so far. It was nice to be encouraged, especially when I feel so out of shape and limited in what my body can handle. I know it will get better, and I loved falling asleep while running steps in my head, feet tensing and kicking at the sheets subconsciously, like they used to. 

It's good to be back. (Now when did I ever say that of regular school?!)

Wishes for Gramma

Two weeks ago, we celebrated my grandma's 87th birthday. For some reason, this age really struck me--partly because it means she's a lot closer to 90 than I imagine. To me, she's still my spry "Gramma" who played Twister with us when we were in jr. high and splashed in the pool with us when we visited family in Florida. I still deal with a measure of disbelief when my Mom talks about Gramma having a dizzy day or not being able to walk as long as she used to. When I see her, she's still as sharp and wonderful as ever. I just have to remind myself that she's aged a year (or half a year) since I last saw her. With that comes changes.

That's why I'm forever grateful for the way we celebrated her 82nd birthday. It was the kind of experience that ingrained itself in my mind, so I always imagine Gramma like she was that summer. (How can that be five years ago already?) To some, it might be the strangest way to celebrate a grandmother. But not to us.

We went to Disney World! My sister had just graduated college and I was going into my junior year. When the job search proved futile for both of us, we decided to do something wild and different. Rather than wallow over our joblessness and be bored, we'd plan a memorable vacation. What's the dream vacation spot? Disney World, of course! (I've never been to Disneyland...except in utero when my Mom and Dad visited California...so I refuse to debate this. And of course, there are thousands dream vacations out there. But, for the sake of this blog post, please agree with me on this one.)

When we told Mom, she mentioned that my aunt, and maybe even Gramma, would love to go too! Our Aunty D is a high-functioning, sweet, and thoughtful lady who happens to have down syndrome. She and Gramma live together, which is a blessing on many levels--Grandpa has been gone a long time (it's a strange thing to miss someone without ever really having met them), so Gramma and Aunty D take good care of each other. And, like me, Aunty D loves Disney! We both enjoy the movies (classic and new) and all the music associated with them. She hadn't been to Disney in two decades (count 'em, 20 years!) and had mentioned she'd like to go again sometime.

Well, that "sometime" was now! My sister and I were thrilled to tell them, and we couldn't believe it when Gramma's response to the invitation was an unhesitating yes! We expected her to be nervous about the long days in the sun and not interested in all the rides at Disney World. But her enthusiasm for our vacation made us kick into high-gear planning mode! We looked for comfortable hotels with them in mind and rented a wheelchair so Gramma could be off her feet while we toured the parks. It was going to be a "girls getaway," and it happened to fall on Gramma's 82nd birthday!

Before we left, I wasn't sure how other guests and park cast members would react to two young adults vacationing with their grandmother and disabled aunt. Would they shake their heads at us? We're we crazy to even attempt it? Knowing (and loving) my aunt and grandma, I knew we'd enjoy the time together, but I was afraid of others making it difficult or emotionally hard for us. When I expressed these concerns to Dad, he said we could be a testimony to the blessing of family. He said we could be an example of respecting our elders and enjoying friendship with them, regardless of age or abilities. So we moved forward with faith and prayed that God would use this time to bring the four of us closer together.

And He did! We had the best time! Not only was the slower pace more relaxing, we got to really enjoy the themes and storytelling of the parks. The wheelchair worked out great and we were surprised at how kind and helpful the cast members were! Sometimes we'd be waiting patiently in line, not worrying about our time table or the crowds, and they'd bring us to the front of the line through a special entrance! Totally unexpected and really special if you think about it. Better yet, people in line didn't seem to get mad at us or judge us for "abusing the system" (Gramma's wheelchair was certainly not about getting in the fast lane!). And it gave us plenty of time to see it all.

Some of my favorite moments were the shows we watched together, sometimes singing or clapping along. All four of us appreciate good music and it wasn't a surprise that we enjoyed this aspect of the parks. Some other favorite moments were sitting with Gramma in the shade, waiting while my sister and Aunty D went on some of the fast-paced rides together. We'd talk and, as always, I loved asking her questions about her life. It was treasured time. (Note: Gramma DID go on quite a few "less-tranquil rides," including Pirates of the Caribbean and the backwards-dropping Viking boat tour. She's a champ!)

I was also delighted by the way Gramma's humor bubbled to the surface at "the happiest place on earth." One of my favorite quotes from the trip was whenever one of us said, "Where are we going?" Gramma would throw up her hands and reply dramatically, "We're goin' CRAZY!" It made us smileevery time. Believe me, you ask that question a lot at Disney World! And it always lifted any weight from my shoulders to hear Gramma laugh and make light of every moment. :) We were going crazy--crazy with excitement and fun!

On August 10th, we went to EPCOT. I requested a birthday button for Gramma and was amazed at how well the colors matched her shirt! She was a sport to wear it, and it turned out to bring her some magical birthday surprises.

We'd planned a special birthday lunch for Gramma at the Rose and Crown restaurant. It was a quiet affair, in which we gave her cards and sang. There were no candles (the waiter seemed oblivious to our hints before dessert that we were celebrating), so we used the light-up Tinkerbell toy on Aunty D's drinking straw so she could make a wish. :) We're nothing if not creative!

My Gramma is also wonderfully patriotic. So we were excited to visit the American Adventure pavilion and see the show. It turned out WAY better than we could've hoped for! First, we sat and listened to an amazing a capella choir. The songs were so moving, I'm sure I saw tears in Aunty D's eyes as she sang along under her breath. As if that wasn't enough, we met the sweetest cast member on the elevator ride up to the theater. He was an older gentleman who clearly loved his job and did it well. He noticed Gramma's button and wished her a happy birthday--complimenting her on how young she looked, and I'm pretty sure he was the only one to ask, "How young are you?" :) We were led to a great seat in the theater, and when this same gentleman was introducing the show, he took a moment to congratulate Gramma on her birthday and asked her to "Give us a wave, Aileen!" while the whole crowd clapped for her. I was nearly in tears over this! It was like he knew this would be one of Gramma's favorite attractions at the park and he wanted to make it extra special.

After the show, he asked us to follow him. "We have some more celebrating to do!" He led us next door to the little restaurant attached to the pavilion. He spoke with a cast member behind the counter and returned with a little apple pie for Gramma. As he placed it before her, he called out, "Three cheers for Aileen on her 82nd birthday today! Hip, hip!" "HOORAY!" "Hip hip!" HOORAY!" "Hip hip!" "HOORAY!" everyone in the restaurant cheered.

Photo credit: http://www.thedisneyproject.com/2012/06/interview-with-lonnie-hicks.htm

I found out later that this wonderful gentleman's name is Lonnie. (I was too "in the moment" to make note of his name tag then.) I so wish I could go back and thank him again for how he blessed us on that day. I know it's all part of the "Disney magic" and cast members do this sort of thing all the time. But for us, it was an extra special memory.

We thanked him and sat down to enjoy the treat. (Because, being the wonderful woman she is, Gramma shared her little pie with all of us.) Aunty D wanted to buy a soda to go along with it, and as we stood in line, she told me through tears how this whole thing reminded her of Grandpa (who served in the Navy and was a proud American) and how she can't wait for all of them to be home in Heaven together again someday.

Wow. It chokes me up just remembering it. In that comment, through Aunty D, it was like Grandpa was with us too. This was the perfect way to celebrate Gramma's birthday that year. She was healthy and strong enough to endure the heat (and some pretty crazy wheelchair rides from her granddaughters...Weeeee!), and we made countless memories that will last us a lifetime. When I mentioned it to my sister again the other day, she said, "Aw, Disney! That was so much fun!" And every time we mention it to each other, some variation of "that was the best time" comes out.

So, that was our Disney vacation! I still smile uncontrollably when I look at photos and videos from it. (That's what all those record-keeping devices are for, right?) We've vacationed with Gramma and Aunty D to many places before and after, but this one was particularly memorable because of the perfect, celebratory circumstances, and the fact that my sis and I were still pretty new to planning travel by ourselves.

Next week, Gramma and Aunty D will be moving back in with my parents. I'm sure it will be an adjustment all around, but I can say in full certainty that I'm SO glad. Not only will this make care-taking a lot easier for everyone, it'll be great to have them so close. I love them both dearly and I'm grateful for the extra time we'll get to have when we visit. They lived with us when I was very young, so it's kind of like coming full circle!

Hopefully we'll make lots of fun memories with them in this next stage of life. I love seeing Gramma with her great-grandchildren (and hope to add my own kids among them someday!). And Aunty D's enthusiasm for life and experiencing new things always helps bring out "the kid in me." There's lots of good ahead.

So here are just a few of my birthday wishes for Gramma:

May you be full of God's peace and joy.

May He bless you with good health and happy years.

May you be surrounded by the love you so freely give.

May you enjoy the true fullness of knowing Jesus as your Savior.

And may you always "go crazy" with excitement for what God's done in your life, and how He's used to you bless others.

I love you, Gramma-ma!

Thank God for Hometowns

I already touched on our 4th of July visit to the East Coast. It wasn't until about a month later that I heard Carrie Underwood's song "Thank God for Hometowns." I found myself nodding at the chorus:

Thank God for hometowns
And all the love that makes them go round.
Thank God for the county lines that welcome you back in
When you were dying to get out.
Thank God for church pews
And all the faces that won’t forget you.
And when you’re lost out in this crazy world,
You got somewhere to go and get found.
Thank God for hometowns.

I wasn't "dying to get out," but I was anxious to be with my love out here in Washington. Our church was a few towns over, and I certainly didn't know as many people as I would've if we had gone to the public school. But I still love my hometown and there are certainly plenty of familiar places and faces, many of which I recognize though they may not know me--like the librarians that have been there my whole life, or the woman from my childhood church who always plays the spoons on the back of a bandwagon in the Independence Day parade.

I consider the whole state of New Hampshire to be "my hometown" in some way. Each town I drive through has memories or impressions of a particular life stage connected to it. From crossing the border from Massachusetts (on our way north from the Boston airport) to the northernmost towns by our family Camp, it sometimes feels like nothing has changed. Like someone hit the pause button when I left, at least to the places themselves. (When it comes to people, the changes are all too evident--the silver in my Dadda's hair, or the way my sister's little family has grown.)

Many of the towns in New Hampshire are celebrating their 250th birthdays this year. I marveled at them as we drove around the state. Banners across main streets announced the milestone. In my own hometown, the theme of the Independence Day parade was our town history. The floats all featured particular moments or particular landmarks and people of our town. I was thrilled to have Super Husband see it and get a better sense of what this place has meant to me. My favorite was the Sunday Driver Rock, a rock on the side of the road someone (no one really remembers who) painted these words:

(photo not mine)

It's been vandalized and repainted multiple times, and was most recently "edited" by a grammar freak. (Hey, I'm an editor, but even I wouldn't mess with this historical artifact!) Anyway, it was a fun tribute to one of the many quirky, "quaint" things about my hometown.

This little gem was taken on the front porch of our general store. Super Husband and I were sent on an errand and Dodge's Store (also 141 years old, I might add). It almost seemed staged--this beauty parked out front, and two elderly gentlemen sitting on the porch just chatting and "people watching" in our sleepy downtown. I felt a little foolish taking a picture, this Seattlite girl who's enchanted by old New England. But as I walked through that creaky front door to buy a bag of ice for my parents' party, I was "that girl who lives on Town Farm Road" again.

The song says, "I always find another piece of me, Walking down these old familiar streets." Now, I feel perfectly whole in my Lord, and He has eased the pain of homesickness time and time again (as this blog bears witness to). But I "get" these lyrics, because there's an element of rediscovery when you return to where you grew up. I'm faced with who I was, how I changed with the turning seasons, and why I am the way I am! I like the reminder that I came from this place. That no matter where I end up, this will always be where my journey began. And I always tell my parents, they couldn't have chosen a better town to raise a family in.

I hope my kids can say the same. That they'll thank God for hometowns too, maybe even sharing my thankfulness for this same town because this is where Grandma and Grandpa are. We'll see. Maybe someday this suburban/urban living will have a similar sentiment attached to it.

Summer Summary

Last month alone, we went hiking, biking, camping, fishing, barbecuing, swimming, and picnicking. Pretty much all the quintessential summer activities. Oh, and squeeze in trips to the west-coast family cabin, a drive-in movie, berry picking, yard work, soccer playing, and archery (for the first time in a few years!). 

It's been a full summer!

For all of that, I'm not quite ready for it to be over. Thank goodness we still have about a month and a half of good weather left! Our upcoming adventures include (but are not limited to) backpacking in the Olympics again and a camping/rafting weekend. To top it all off, my parents and two family friends are coming to visit at the end of September! Glad to have that visit to look forward to, and maybe the transition to "rainy season" won't be that bad after all!

In my last post I alluded to our bike rides. This is a "new" activity to me, since I haven't had a bike of my own since moving here. Super Husband found me an awesome pre-owned "hybrid" bike (flat handlebars of a mountain bike with thin tires of a road bike), so I could have an easier time keeping up with his uber-fast road bike. There are lots of beautiful trails around this area. My favorite so far has been the Burke-Gilman trail around Lake Washington. Super Husband is a great encourager, and I find the words of affirmation just as sweet as the treats we give ourselves after a long ride--mainly ice cream and chocolate, but any sugary item will do. I'm looking forward to riding more and dread the rainy weather when we can't count on good biking conditions.

The second renewed activity is, of course, archery! My poor re-curve bow and mismatched quiver-full of arrows has sat neglected in my closet for about 3 or 4 years. When we were searching for a house, I thought for sure we'd have a lawn where I could practice. It took only a few home viewings to realize I will find no such yard in this neck of the woods--it certainly doesn't merit the term "woods" at all! I resigned myself to this fact and instead drooled over "Hunger Games," Disney's "Brave," "Robin Hood," and of course "The Lord of the Rings trilogy" for my archery fix.

A month or so ago, a friend asked to borrow some arrows for a photo shoot at work (at right). As I pulled out my gear, I realized this was something I had to pursue again, somehow. I started dreaming up ways I could shoot safely in our little yard, in a manner that wouldn't alarm the neighbors or passers-by. When no good ideas were forthcoming, I turned to that marvelous resource--parents! My in-laws reminded me that there's plenty of room to shoot at the family cabin down in Shelton. So this past trip, I bought a target to keep there. Ironically, it was the same exact target I bought in New Hampshire about 6+ years ago! (Confession: It was from Wal-Mart, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised.) It made the cabin feel even more like home!

No pictures to prove it, but I think some of my form is still there! Super Husband and BIL (brother-in-law) shot too and did really well. It felt so good to hold the bow again, no matter how shaky my arms were. (Super Husband calls my "guns" "potato canons" for a reason. Good thing archery is only 20% arm and 80% back muscles.) I can't wait to get back to the cabin to shoot more! And it's only whetted my appetite to find a range closer to home.

For a truly new activity, Super Husband and I have been learning how to fly fish! We got these incredible rods from the aforementioned "visitors coming at the end of September" (thanks, guys!) last Christmas and couldn't wait to try them. Our first tries were in the front lawn of my childhood home, under the tutelage of my uncle, who's a pro! Dad (my original fishing buddy) took us to a few dams and ponds to practice. I quickly fell in love with this unique form of fishing. It's a lot more technical than I'm used to, but I'm up for the challenge!

Super Husband and I went to my favorite river in all of New England to try our luck. He managed to catch one trout on his fly rod, but it was too tiny to keep. Quick shout-out to Super Husband: He stuck with it and kept trying the difficult fly-fishing cast from the brush-lined riverbanks, while his wimpy wife traded in her fly rod for a normal pole and worm. Keep that in mind--he ain't no quitter! That said, I caught perhaps the biggest trout of my life that day...but with my old pole and a juicy worm I'd dug up from our "worm farm" back at the Camp. So I don't think it's quite the victory I was looking for. But I still had a blast! Super Husband has gone fishing with a coworker since returning to WA, and I'm hopeful I'll get the hang of it enough to start reeling in some big 'uns on my fly rod.

That's our summer in a nutshell. I love, love, LOVE summer in Washington! It's what makes the other nine months of the year bearable. What's your favorite summer activity? What new things have you tried?

Christmas in July

I know it's cliche, but I truly felt like it was Christmas in July this year! Just like "the most wonderful time of the year," I got to spend time with family, attend parties, and receive some amazing gifts. Allow me to break those down for you:

Spend time with family: We spent a week in New Hampshire at the beginning of the month. It felt like that wonderful, "home for the holidays" type of trip, because I hadn't seen my family in almost three months (although, that's not too bad, considering our usual absences of 6+ months). We enjoyed many family meals (and pretty much ate every kind of meat you can imagine, including "lobstah"), sitting around talking on the back porch, and even some movie nights that I love so much! All we were missing was the Christmas tree and snow!

It was also our first time visiting NH in summer since we've been married! For that reason, we got to relive nostalgic moments of our dating days when Super Husband (then Charming Boyfriend) would come to visit. Perhaps my favorite moment of nostalgia was during our two day trip to the Camp--our family cabin in the mountains, capitalized because it's one-of-a-kind...it's not a camp, it's the Camp!

This is where we came to swim in the river (and jump off the 18 ft rock because I wanted to impress Charming Boyfriend with my bravery...even though that jump still scares me!), where Dad "tested" Charming Boyfriend by asking him to go down into the well and scrub the walls with bleach (he passed with flying colors), and where Charming Boyfriend became my fiance 3 years ago! We even revisited the exact spot--a beautiful meadow up the hill, where an old inn once stood at the base of the mountain. We were there to see if we could get a cell phone signal, but neither of us overlooked the "sacredness" of that place. It was there we were promised to each other, and where we shared our first kiss. I couldn't have chosen a more perfect proposal spot. "The boy done good!"

Attend parties: The day after our arrival in NH, we got to take part in a welcome party for our family's latest addition, my sweet nephew! Mom and Dad threw an amazing shindig and invited a lot of relatives and family friends, whom I always appreciate seeing. Super Husband makes fun of me for using the word "festive" to describe an event--he says his grandma uses that term, which makes me want to use it all the more! So there!--and it was a very festive time. My family really knows how to host a "pahty" (sorry, the Boston accent kinda boils to the surface when I visit New England). Welcome Benjamin! I don't think you know quite how crazy this family you've been born into really is! Not yet, anyway...

Towards the end of our stay, we got to celebrate America's birthday old-school style. My hometown turned 250 years old this year (a blog post about that to come) so it was an extra special time to introduce the annual parade and fireworks to Super Husband. We had our own little party, complete with a few relatives and some of our own fireworks. (That last one...sometimes yikes. Sometimes wow. Not sure if it's a good idea to let Super Husband and Sworn Brother pick out the fireworks.)

Gifts: I bet you know this one already, don't you? It's obvious, right? The biggest gift of July...my favorite, sweetest little gift...was a bike! (Please tell me you know I'm kidding.) I do really enjoy my new toy and I'm grateful to Super Husband for finding and buying it for me. But the greatest gift actually arrived in June. I didn't get to "receive" him fully until this trip. My handsome little nephew, Benjamin! While he has many nicknames already (unavoidable in this family), one of my favorites is Baby Benja! It sounds a little like "ninja," which is probably why I like it so much.

Of course, Christmas isn't about getting but giving!

I made this little cape for my ninja nephew. His aunty knows he's going to be a superhero someday. ;) I think he's pretty super already! As predicted, I cried when I first saw him in my sister's arms, both in a picture and in person ... especially in person. It was so surreal holding him in my arms. It's a bit of a jet-lagged blur (stupid red-eye flights), but I remember a bit of our first conversation. It went something like this:

Me: Hi Benjamin!
Him: *sleeping*
Me: You're finally here! We've waited so long to meet you.
Him: *still sleeping*
Me: I'm your Aunty and I love you so much already!
Him: *starts wiggling and face gets all scrunched up...you know where this is going*
Me: Welcome to the family!
Him: *mouth opens wide...I'm not the only one to say this kid has a big mouth...and cries*

As you can see, he slept through most of our "conversation" and seemed a little freaked out to have me as an aunt...because it certainly can't be because he has us as a family! ;) I think we're pretty cool--lots of quirks, humor, love, and fun all around! In reality, Baby Benja fits in quite nicely. He's already making faces and raising his eyebrows at us. :) Yep, he's my sister's son alright! And I looooooove him!

So, that's a very brief summary of our Christmas in July. Now I look forward to Thanksgiving and the start of the official Christmas season, because I'll get to see my Benja again!...oh, and the rest of the fam too. ;) I hate to think of how much he will grow by then, and all the firsts I'm sure to miss. But I'm grateful for our little FaceTime dates and updates from "BenjaMomma" (she graduated from PregoSis, obviously). So thrilled to see him and his fantastic parents settling in and doing well. And Grandma and Grandpa are over the moon, of course! Have I mentioned how talented they are? Within Benja's first month, both of my parents had composed their own (silly) lullaby for him. The kid's in for a treat--after 25 years of having songs "made up for me" (usually stealing other tunes and putting new words to them), I know what it's like to be both amazed and embarrassed at what innovative parents I have! Good luck, kiddo!

In the next post I plan to talk a little more about summer here at home. Stay tuned and subscribe if you don't want to miss an update! I can't guarantee I'll post a link on Facebook, especially if I keep up this blogging spree and post more often! (Here's hoping!)

Oh, and a very merry early Christmas to you!

Dang it, Craig!

I know I have a lot of catching up to do. I promise to post about meeting my nephew and this summer's adventures. But for now, I need to talk about something that may make you laugh, cringe, and/or shake your head in wonderment over our stupidity.

That's right. I want to talk about the joys of adulthood--particularly that wonderful, stomach-dropping moment when you realize (like Gob in "Arrested Development") that "I've made a huge mistake" and all responsibility rests on you and you alone. Okay, so it's not that bad. Let me start from the beginning.

For the past few months of Super Husband's "freedom" from studying, we've been getting serious about putting the finishing touches on our house. This has included yard work, reorganizing closets, and extensive Craigslisting. That last one has been the source of the most grief. Super Husband spends almost an hour a day browsing the listings and making offers on the furniture we've been waiting on. Somehow, we managed to buy ourselves a new vacuum in the process, but that's beside the point.

The point is, for all the work and consideration we put into the searching, we have very little to show for it...until yesterday. Late on Monday night, Super Husband says he's found a buffet! It's small, it looks light, and it's real wood so we can refinish the light pine with a stain that matches our dining room! "It even has a lip around the back and sides to keep dishes from falling off!" Great! I took a brief glance at it, thought the price was reasonable (given what we'd seen so far) and liked that it was in the same town where Super Husband works!

Begin phase 2: We make an offer, seller accepts said offer, and Super Husband plans and executes a lunch break run to pick it up! So far so good. When I come home from work, I open the garage excitedly to find...a baby-changing table!

Wait. Is there something he's trying to tell me? Am I pregnant? (No, for the record. No.) I kind of chuckled at first and took a closer look. Yes, it's a baby-changing table. Complete with drawers and a divider for holding diapers. When Super Husband comes home, I make a joke about it and his face drops. He'd paid extra to have it delivered, and upon loading the guy's truck he realized how heavy it was. He said he was having second thoughts at that point, and when the seller added "it makes a great baby dresser too" he was confused, since they claimed to have used it as a buffet table. Not wanting to back out then, he went through with it.

Laughter aside, we stood in our garage, staring at the large, glossy, pine baby-changing table. We'd paid way to much for it. We found out we can't refinish it because, although the drawers and front are solid pine, the sides are veneer. So, we're going to have to try to sell it again. (No Baby Mottet on the way in the near future, and I can't justify hanging onto it until then!) But I have a feeling we're going to have to cut our losses. It's work to post things, wait for offers, and coordinate pick ups. We'll probably lose money, not to mention sleep, over this thing. Dang it, Craig and your stupid list!

This "too-bad-you've-been-bamboozled" moment will pass and I'm sure we'll laugh about it someday. It's just one of many home-owner/newlywed mistakes I'm sure we'll make in our lifetime. That said...I still wish it hadn't happened.

Soooo...Expecting a baby? Have a little one already? Need a nice piece of furniture on which to change him or her? Call me.

#7 Sew a Quilt (+ Thoughts on Being an Aunty)

Confession: I began this project before "Sew a quilt" made it on my 100 list. But it was still a dream of mine to see it finished! My two attempts at T-shirt quilts have resulted in a paper grocery bag full of cut up T-shirts and no quilt...yet. So when I found out my sister was pregnant, I also found the perfect excuse to start a REAL quilt.

Living 3,000 miles away from my "PregoSis" (as I promptly nicknamed her in her first trimester), I figured my baby niece or nephew will need something to snuggle up in as a substitute for an Aunty Hug. That's when I began my search for the perfect baby quilt pattern. It didn't take long. (Remember? I work for a quilting/sewing/knitting/crochet/crafting publisher...) I ended up sewing a miniature version of a quilt a coworker actually designed! Simple square blocks with appliqued clouds and a bright red bird fit the baby shower theme of "Showers of Blessing" (raindrops/cloud theme) perfectly!

It's the sappy sort of thing one of our authors might write, but I truly felt like I was sewing a bit of love into each stitch. Even the crooked quilting and very-visible binding stitches perfectly resemble "quirky aunty." I'm really happy how it turned out and I couldn't wait to give it to PregoSis at her baby shower! All her guests signed their name to the label so Baby can see how much he or she is loved.

So this post comes with a double whammy--a goal reached and musings on another life milestone. I'm going to be an aunt! My big sister, my BFF and guinea pig is once again blazing the trail into the unknown! Our family's first grandchild and niece/nephew on both sides. It's been hard to let it truly sink in, considering I've only seen my PregoSis twice in person since she shared the news. Her baby bump was still small then. Now she's beautifully round and glowing! I got to feel Baby kick before his or her miraculous entrance into the world. Surreal, isn't it?

I always thought I'd be there to welcome my niece or nephew as soon as I got the call! Now...well, I'll have to celebrate and cry tears of joy out here and save my kisses and snuggles for Baby when we go out again this summer. Baby will be a month old then. I hate the thought of having to "spoil baby from afar," or becoming "that crazy aunt and uncle out in Washington." Hopefully our annual or biannual visits will let us become familiar faces in Baby's life. :-( Man, this is just depressing me! My heart longs to pop over to see my sister send her baby off for his or her first day of school! Or to be there for recitals or concerts, sports games and birthday parties. We may be able to see some, but it won't be the same.

Enough melodrama...for now. I'm thrilled to be an aunty. And I absolutely love seeing my sister's life bloom so beautifully. Seven years ago, one of the darkest years my family has experienced, I remember pleading with God to let my sister's heart be whole again, so she could love and be loved, that she would joyfully live out the life He had planned for her, and that she'd get to realize those dreams that were seemingly dashed. You know what? He answered! A hundred times better than I could've imagined! I love my "sworn brother" (doesn't that sound more epic than "brother-in-law"?) and the life they've built together. I know they'll be fantastic parents--the super cool kind! And I'm 100% positive I'll burst into tears at the sight of my beautiful sister holding her child for the first time (Attention family: I demand pictures of this blessed event!).

This kid is going to know he (or she) is loved! No doubt about that.

#3 Witness a Miracle

I won't pretend I didn't steal this one from A Walk to Remember. Yes, I recalled the movie/book when I was putting together my 100 list, and I added "Witness a Miracle" because I knew I wanted to witness not just a romanticized, Nicholas Sparks version of a miracle ("You're my angel," and life is full of tiny miracles) but a mind-blowing, New Testament kind of miracle. The kind that makes you stop in awe and recognize the power of God. I've already seen many of those--the changed life of an ex-con, complete healing of my Grandmother's cancer, the forgiveness of my own sin, just to name a few--but I found myself still longing for MORE! More of God's power at work in the world, in my life and in the lives of those around me, and in His church.

I added this to my 100 list so I'd be on the lookout. I realized I'm not the sort of believer who struggles with "Can God do this?" so much as with asking Him to do more, and to allow me to see it happen! Rather than just holding on to that longing deep within my heart, to witness miracles and even perhaps to do them for Jesus' glory, I'm working on expressing that longing to Him. Someone recently confirmed that they recognized that desire in me and felt the Holy Spirit was going to show me and work through me. It's encouraged me to keep that willingness to be used and to keep asking for more.

That said, I don't think this is the only #3 I'll be sharing with you as the years go by. But it's pretty exciting to me! About two months ago, our lead pastor shared a vision with us, one that has been confirmed by many, that Jesus wanted us to purchase the building the church has been renting and completely rebuild it. Not because "new is nice" and certainly not because church is about the building, but because we're growing! But it can't and won't continue if we remain where we are. There's not enough space for us all to come, worship, and learn together. And the current setup isn't very welcoming to new people. Bottom line: Jesus wants more people for His Church. He says build a new building; we'll build a new building.

Did I mention the price tag? About 10 million dollars to purchase the building and construct a new one in the lot. We needed 6 million of that just to keep moving forward. Now, we're not a mega-church. We're about 500, mostly made up of college students and young professionals who don't make huge salaries. Where was that 6 million going to come from? I smile to think of the way my heart instantly seemed to respond, "God will provide the ram." (Check out Genesis 22 if you don't get it.) My heart may have sprung up with that faith at the first, but that "ram" still required a lot of fervent prayer and faith on the part of the church. We prayed and fasted, knowing the kind of sacrifice it would mean, what God might ask us to give. We didn't hold a "fundraiser" or do a big advertising campaign--just a few, brief reminders on Sunday mornings that we'd take up an offering in a month. That's it...one month.

March 5th rolled around. The tithes and offerings baskets were passed, just like any other Sunday. When everything was counted...

...there was just over 6 million dollars.

It's a miracle! God provided for His church. I like to think I never doubted it would happen, but then I wonder how I would've responded if it hadn't. Would I still have continued with faith, knowing God would provide whatever was necessary to do what He has asked? Or would I have just shrugged and said to myself, "Miracles like that just don't happen anymore, not like in Biblical times." I tend to think it would've been the latter. That's been my response far too often when things don't turn out how I hoped. So I'm shaking off that attitude--Lord knows this miracle has certainly bolstered my faith and given me encouragement to keep asking for more--and getting excited for even more miracles on the way!

100 List Fanfare

I promised you a "revamp" in the new year, didn't I? Well, this is it...sort of. I imagined a total blog make-over, but in the end, all I really wanted to add was my 100 list. I was inspired by friends whose own blogs include this list of dreams/goals--a "bucket list" of sorts, but not because I feel my life would lack meaning without attempting the "extraordinary." Quite the opposite! My life was given all the meaning it needs when Jesus saved me. These things are just adventures I'd love to have in addition to the grand adventure I've already been set upon. They're the sorts of things I'd love to see happen and then look back at this list and say, "How cool is that? I dreamed this long before it was reality!" Or maybe this list will provide a bit of inspiration when I'm given the opportunity to choose an adventure. Either way, it's full of fancies mixed with a few heart desires (the obvious ones being "having a baby" and "publishing a novel," I think). I'll try to post about the journey and the achievement/fulfillment of those dreams as they happen, if ever. Go ahead and click on the tab at the top of the page to take a look!

This blog will still be called "The Squirrel and Student Society," because the terms, remarkably, lend themselves well to the 100 list. Here are some definitions from Merriam-Webster.com:

Squirrel: to store up for future use —often used with away <squirrel away some money>

Squirrelly: nutty, curious

Student: scholar, learner, one who studies; an attentive and systematic observer <a student of politics>

Society: companionship or association with one's fellows : company

I'll admit that I'm a little "squirrelly" to begin with, and this blog is a place where I "squirrel away" moments, thoughts, and experiences (personally, I'm working on collecting moments more than things...but I've always been a collector of sorts). I don't know if I can classify myself as a "systematic observer" but I definitely have an unquenchable thirst for learning. Finally, this place is indeed a society where I hope we can enjoy companionship and continue "association."

So there you have it! The not-really-new-or-improved Squirrel and Student Society. If there's anything on my list you have advice for or a lead on--perhaps you know someone who teaches Indian folk dance in the Seattle area, or you have some frequent flier miles (or first-class upgrade) you'd like to be rid of? *wink*--please let me know. That's the thing about this society--comments and thoughts are always welcome.

Home Between the Raindrops

Today is our wedding anniversary. While year one was very much defined by becoming (a wife, a member of a new church, a long-distance daughter, a daughter-in-law, a Washingtonian), year two seemed to be about belonging. On our anniversary last year, we talked a lot about our new life together--how we'd settled into it, what's ahead, etc. Super Husband said he really wanted to make this place feel like HOME for me. And through our adventures, both in our "new" house (1 year since we became homeowners!) and away, I'm definitely at home now.

I fell in love with this song when I first heard it on the Olympics last summer. Strangely ironic given the type of year it's been. There's no one else I'd rather "roll down this unfamiliar road" with!

Two years. How'd that happen? Well, there's 24 hours in a day...plus or minus a few when you fly across a few time zones...and 7 days a week...and 52 weeks in a year! Fine, I'll leave the math to Super Husband and get back on topic.

Within the last year, I've learned to delight in a life shared. I love life with my husband more than words can say! Yes, even when I'm grumpy, even when we argue, and even when things feel chaotic. And I love sharing life with the friends and family I have out here on the West Coast, as well as those on the East Coast and everywhere in between! It looks different for every one of them--Super Husband and I share life 24/7, friends and family about 9/7, and all the rest only about 168/8765 or less (that's about a week out of a year, just so you know). No matter how much or how little time I get to spend with each of them, it's a delightful thing.

Now I'm home. waiting for Super Husband to come home from work so we can try that cute little Thai place down the street. That's another thing I've really learned to enjoy this past year: getting to share the little things in life with someone. I felt like I spent the first year of marriage analyzing marriage--what it means, what a godly marriage looks like, how we were doing as a married couple--which is all good, but it sometimes crowded out the sheer wonder of it all! I love having someone to go grocery shopping with, someone to "talk it out" with when my emotions mess with my mind, someone to sit up late with when I can't sleep. It's mind boggling.

On the plane from Boston to Seattle a few weeks ago, I plugged in my headphones to the in-flight radio. It was the first time I heard this song (below), and I smiled in spite of my pain at leaving New England. I smiled because A) walking between raindrops is pretty common in Washington state, B) we were on our way "off into the sunset" with a lot of unknowns before us, C) it reminded me how grateful I was to have my love beside me on that plane. I didn't have to fly back alone and I'm not alone here in my new home. I love walking between the raindrops with him, and no matter how many rainy days come, I'd never want to be anything but his bride. With a prayer and a hope that God's Grace goes with us, we're heading into year three.

Let's Start the New Year Right

This Christmas, I rediscovered the song "Let's Start the New Year Right" by Bing Crosby. I've sort of had a crush on Bing ever since "White Christmas," which I was very lucky to have seen for the first time at the age of two and continue to watch annually. Then I discovered "Holiday Inn," "Bells of St. Mary's," and a bunch of Bing's other music. (Don't worry: Super Husband isn't threatened in the slightest.) Come on, how can you not like a guy with the voice of an angel, blue eyes, and a silly name like "Bing"?! Plus, his music always reminded me of an era I didn't personally experience, but was familiar for my grandparents (and parents, somewhat). Anyway, "Let's Start the New Year Right" (although not the "official Christmas song of 2012"--see last year's post--which was "I'll Be Home for Christmas" obviously) seemed to fit our holiday season pretty well. (You can read the lyrics here, but be sure to take a listen at the bottom of the post.)

One minute to midnight
One minute to go
One minute to say good-bye
Before we say hello

Let's start the new year right
Twelve o'clock tonight
When they dim the light
Let's begin

Kissing the old year out
Kissing the new year in

Let's watch the old year die
With a fond good-bye
And our hopes as high
As a kite

How can our love go wrong if
We start the new year right?

I think we did start the new year right, even though it was far from perfect. On the plane home, after a tremendous visit to New Hampshire for Christmas and New Year's, I thought about what my "post-holiday blog post" should say. Over the course of the week and a half away, I thought about writing about familiar things, settling into life with my family again, being an aunty for the first time (bound to be a blog post eventually), memories of a loved one lost, and the goals I have laid out before me. I could write pages and pages about each of them, but I realized that the all encompassing theme should be about looking forward rather than always behind.

I heard an analogy recently of a windshield and a rear-view mirror. The windshield is much bigger than the mirror, because we ought to be looking forward while we drive, not behind. While this analogy was used to describe forgetting the mistakes, sins, and hurts from the past (from which we've been forgiven and healed from, or are starting to heal from), I almost saw it as a challenge not to glance back on what has been as often.

I'm a sucker for memories, and I love to recall and relive the fun times of the past with my family and friends. But, and I'm pretty sure I've mentioned this before, sometimes that brings me down. Things can't ever be the same. And as much as I enjoy reuniting with old friends and sharing memories, sometimes that only makes me sad and depressed because we can never go back. I struggle with this when I'm away from New England, and just as much when I'm there visiting. Still, I like the idea of the rear-view mirror, because it shows that it's okay to glance back from time to time (at least in this example)...not in longing for where we've been or what we've seen, but in remembrance of what God has done.

We had a shocking glance in the rear-view mirror on New Year's Day at 2am. My mother-in-law called to tell us that her mom passed away unexpectedly. She was seemingly healthy and we looked forward to many more years of her friendship, guidance, and love. Personally, there was so much I still wanted to talk to her about, to get to know her more than our four brief visits allowed--my husband's graduation (back when I was still his "new girlfriend"), a visit to her vacation home in Florida, my sister-in-law's wedding, and then our wedding. There wasn't enough time! But in the grieving that followed, I got to learn more about Grandma and her Christian legacy--one that Super Husband and I are blessed to be a part of! God has done GREAT THINGS through the life of Grandma. And as much as I long to have her here with us, I can rejoice in what's ahead: a great reunion in Heaven, where I know she's with Jesus and my husband's Grandpa, whom I never had the pleasure of meeting in this life.

I'm grateful for the week we had leading up to the news of our loss. There were family parties, games, sit-down dinners, snowball fights, snowman building, and more. It was a Christmas and New Year's Eve to remember! I'm so thankful for all of it...and feel kind of selfish for feeling hungry for more. We got so comfortable being together again--all 6 of us (my parents, us, my sister, and bro-in-law) living under the same roof. I'm anxiously looking forward to our next meeting. For now, it's good to be home.

Better late than never, I wish you all MERRY CHRISTMAS (it truly was) and HAPPY NEW YEAR (it truly will be, Lord willing).