#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).

An Unexpected Birthday Gift

On the eve of my 25th birthday, I received an unexpected letter. Perhaps it was somewhat "expected," just long-forgotten. The irony struck my sister and I, as we talked on the phone about how quickly the years have flown by. "Sometimes high school seems not long ago, but then I remember how much things have changed," she said. Just then, I spotted the letter from my former English teacher and was a little confused to see familiar handwriting appearing through the thin envelope, like the vague glimpse of an apparition.

I opened the letter with trembling fingers, excitedly telling my sister what I'd just received--a message from the past. This is what it said: 

June 6, 2006

By the time you read this, a lot of things will probably have changed. You may be married. You'll be done college and you'll probably be more "mature." I use the word loosely because its definition has changed so much. I mean you'll have experienced things and taken on responsibilities so different from the ones I have now. But I don't want you to loose your sense of wonder at the little things: the beauty of nature, the merriment of holidays, and the simplicity of childlikeness.

I know it's not possible to not change. "If there was no change, there'd be no butterflies." And I want you to be a butterfly. Yet, even a butterfly has ties to its "immature" self. The spots it carries on its skin as a wiggly caterpillar become the ornament and decoration of its wings. So let the change be for the better. Don't let your new responsibilities and lifestyle keep you from taking time for the simple things I enjoy now, like sleeping with my window open to hear the summer crickets, stargazing, writing in my journal on the back porch in my pajamas during the early morning, singing when no one else is around, dancing though no one sees. I hope it's still a part of who you are now.

Above all, I hope you can look back on the time between then and now and see the fingerprints of God. May you have a clear understanding of God's will for your life. And may He grant you peace to overcome the fear of growing up.

 Moving forward,

 [Myself at 18 years old...signed with my maiden name]

Six years ago, I penned this letter to myself as part of an English assignment. It was the end of senior year of high school, and I remember my classmates (and myself) questioning whether our teacher would truly send them to our future selves. He made good on that promise and at the most opportune time.

I spent that much of yesterday (12.12.12) lamenting how I didn't have time to reflect before my birthday, an exercise I began the first year I realized birthdays no longer held the same excitement of childhood (the presents, cakes, getting special treatment on your very own special day, etc.). Then this, a letter written in my pre-English major ignorance--full of misspellings, double negatives, and other such grammatical horrors (which I've kindly left untouched here, for your untainted reading)...this letter arrives and offers more reflection and encouragement than I could have hoped to conjure up in my adult-paced life.

I chuckled at the foresight as well. I am married. College is already starting to feel like a distant memory. And I've certainly had plenty of experiences and taken on new responsibilities, many of which I'm still grappling to understand and carry out well. I'd say I'm more "mature" in the sense my 18-year-old self described--matured by time and experience, but with so much more to see, do, and become. I don't think I've lost my sense of wonder, thankfully, and I attribute some of that to this beautiful new place I've found myself living in as well as the beautiful new life I've discovered with my soul mate. There is much to wonder at in God's world and in a life that seeks after Him.

"If there was no change, there'd be no butterflies." That was my favorite quote in high school. I had it posted in my locker, held up by a butterfly magnet with feathered wings. I clung to this quote because I've never dealt with change well--it always seemed to manage to dig its icy tendrils of dread and sense of loss into my emotions. It still does, on occasion, but I've learned to fear it less, because I know that, in spite of the pain and the things I know I'll miss, I will survive the change though I carry the marks of it forever. One of my favorite songs we sing in worship says "Constant through the trials and the change, One thing remains...Your Love never fails. It never gives up. It never runs out on me." I think that's what the past-me was hinting at, though I've grown to believe it even more deeply now: God's Love never fails, gives up, or runs out on me, no matter what trials and changes come my way. No matter if I cross miles and miles to start a new life, far from the home I've known. No matter if health problems creep in to steal my bodily comfort. No matter what bumpy roads of marriage super-husband and I have to travel. His Love is there.

It was there with me in high school too, as I sat at my desk, penning thoughts I hoped would reach me on the other side of the unknown--that frightening stretch between "childhood" and "adulthood" that seems to occur during the college and early marriage years. Despite my encouraging words and bolstering confidence, that was a troubled time for me. I'd seen the death of a young friend and learned that life isn't a guarantee. I'd witnessed and shared the pain of family members as they battled depression and harrowing circumstances. I wasn't a child then either, I suppose. But God's love has surely carried me through that changing time and He still does!

I have seen the fingerprints of God in my life. Real tears of gratitude fall at that marvelous realization. I think if I knew then how my life would turn out in six years, I would have felt a mix of fear and awe. (A right response, don't you think?) What an INCREDIBLE birthday present! No matter how daunting (and rather epic) "a quarter of a century old" may sound, I prayerfully expect to see the fingerprints of God on the next 25 years also. This is my letter to the future.

Excuses, Excuses

I really hate it when I'm following someone's blog or other work and suddenly there's a huge break in the posts! Yes, I broke that cardinal sin of blogging. So let me start this long-awaited post with a few "excuses":

1. Summer sunshine
2. Summer adventures
3. Summer roadtrips
4. Summer visitors
5. Summer leaving
6. Fall starting
7. Fall fun
8. Fall finishing
9. Winter arriving
10. Annoying health problems
11. Life

How's that? Summer is the biggest excuse, mainly because it kept us so busy that I almost forgot the existence of my blog. (Almost.) Also because sun is so scarce, we spent every available minute, it seems, outside! The grandest adventures took place in the mountains. I undertook my very first backpacking trip with an amazing group of friends in the Olympic Mountains. (Earning myself, albeit loosely, the title of "Olympian.") I also took countless day hikes with super-husband and the in-laws, and while I'm still not even close to matching their stamina, I've enjoyed each trip. Throw in an afternoon on our very own lawn, drinking Italian sodas and reading travel magazines and it's no wonder why I LOVE WASHINGTON SUMMERS!


Super-husband also took me on an incredible road trip of the Oregon coast. I couldn't believe how incredibly beautiful and unique each stop turned out! Plus, car camping is my favorite. OK, I hate unloading the car, and if you're stuck with a parking spot more than fifty feet from your site, it can get a little tedious. I knew I liked car camping before this trip, but I never knew how much I love it! I blame the slow pace, clothes that smell of campfire smoke, and quiet mornings around the cook stove. Granted, the weather was beautiful every night we were in a tent.

Summer made its exit with "Lawn Destroying 101." Due to the lovely lack of rain all summer, our poor lawn turned brown by late September. Don't label us "Green Thumbless" just yet! We managed to keep a mini-garden of carrots and tomatoes alive all summer. (Technically, there were still tomatoes on the vine in early November, but they wouldn't taste too good. We couldn't get them to stop growing!) The peas were a failure this time around, but the real autumn harvest treasure came when...

...we got to go apple picking in our back yard! These sweet, juicy gems were almost too much for us! We couldn't eat, freeze, or give them away fast enough. (There may or may not be a bag of smooshy ones in our garage still.)

Fall flew by like the blustery days that brought back the rain. *sad face* In spite of my lack of faith in super-husband's wisdom, the grass in our lawn DID grow back by November! (He forgave my doubt. I'm a stubborn New Englander after all, who knows that once the grass withers in autumn, it's gone until spring!) That brings us to my favorite season of the year (at least in snowy climates): WINTER! Our little home turned into a winter wonderland (at least on the inside), mainly with all the silver-and-blue snowflake-themed decorations from our wedding. We've enjoyed countless Christmassy events with friends and family, and are looking forward to flying back east for Christmas. (There's another blog post or two bound to come out of that trip, if not before!)

Now that we're all caught up...oh, you want to know about the annoying health problems, huh? Suffice it to say that my Native American (only 1/32, mind you!) and Scandinavian heritage inspired my gallbladder to create precious stones! Frankly, it should've stuck with bile production. Now I'm one more organ short and unable to enjoy all the fatty treats of the holiday season with reckless abandon. Oh well. There's always next year.

Speaking of next year, this would be a good time to introduce my hopes for a little blog revamping in 2013. I don't have nearly as much time to write and reflect as I used to (pre-job), but I hope to continue chasing a few goals and writing more than a few musings about the journey. You still with me?

P.S. Sorry about the delay...now 'fess up! You didn't even know I was gone! *wink*

Blue Sky

The floor needs to be swept...again...and there's still half a pile of laundry waiting to be folded. But today, this is more important. It's been one of those months where I've been word hungry—dying to write, but with little or no time to do it. Finally, I get to sit down and have a good, home-cooked word meal. I'll have to eat quick though. (Did I mention I need to be out the door in thirty minutes?)

The sky came out this week, just in time for Independence Day. The sun came too, but it was the robin's egg blue that really got me. Usually, I only see patches of it through clumps of clouds the color of dirty snow. Recently, however, the whole sky feels so open and wide. It stretches to the horizons I've forgotten. Suddenly, the mountain ranges on every side seem closer than I remember. The green of trees really pop under the blue (or over it, when you're by the water).

Yesterday evening, super-husband and I took a walk down to the beach. He prepared a feast of a picnic, which far surpasses the sorry excuse for a dinner I usually whip up on busy nights. He told me I needed to breathe. I hadn't even realized I was holding my breath! But I was. And it costs not only me, but those around me. You know that feeling? Feeling the pressure build, like you're a can of soda (or pop, for my West/Midwest friends) being shaken up. Not pretty when that thing explodes!

So I breathed. I realize how often my words, both spoken and written, often revolve around the hard things—storms and rough waters. Sometimes that's when you need words most. But what about when the sky is out? And it's so blue, you can't quite match it to anything else in the world? I'm ready to talk about those things more. I need to! It's more like the fizzy bubbles of ginger ale rising in me than a "carbonation explosion."

I was blessed to see seven old friends in the past three weeks. It made me so happy to see each of them growing where they've been planted, and thriving! They're not the same people they were in college. Neither am I! I love who they were and who they've become. We had such fun—enjoying long chats together, road trippin', celebrating a wedding, and exploring new places around Seattle I hadn't even seen yet! Each experience with each different group was like a beautiful sunny day, regardless of the weather. (Sorry, friends who got to see the "real" Pacific Northwest. You missed summer by a day.) They were my blue sky!

Our new(er) friends here are my blue sky, too. Each one adds so much to our life here that it's hard to imagine it without them. And isn't it ironic, and rather appropriate, that our home church is called "Blue Sky Church"? I love that! God's grace is the source of all my blue skies in life. Wouldn't exist without Him! And I'm so excited to see what other blue skies He will reveal to us this summer.

Ready. Set. GO! Super-husband and I are anticipating an excellent season of blue sky (both literal and metaphorical). He finished yet another exam recently, and that means more time to go adventuring (my favorite!) and stay-cationing (equally relaxing as vacationing, in my book). Next up, a road trip along the Oregon coast. Super-husband says I need to get to know my home better, and that includes our neighboring state. What are you going to do under the blue sky this summer? I really want to know!