Simplicity: Apr 20 - 26

I am your servant; give me discernment that I may understand your statutes. 
Ps. 119:125

WEDNESDAY
In 2014 I saved over 3,000 photos to my computer. This year I resolved to be more organized, naming photos, sorting by month, and being selective about what I save. So far I've saved 496, nearly all are named, and all are in titled folders. A cluttered life is a stressful life and this is one small area where I can cut back on clutter. I also spend a little time every month or so putting together some pages in my snapfish album. At the end of the year when they run a big Christmas sale, I'll buy the whole thing. It will be expensive - last year's was still over $50, even with the 60% off sale - but it's worth it. A hard-copy yearbook of all our family's memories.

Today I put in a Henry-nap's-worth of time catching up on March and April photos.

And tonight I also posted our dinner here, an original recipe that was a big hit with Husband!


FRIDAY
Several of my facebook friends have posted references to this blog post (which in turn references this blog) this week. The concept is paring down your wardrobe to only 37 pieces: 15 tops, 9 bottoms, 9 pairs of shoes, 2 dresses, and 2 jackets. The result is fewer choices, but assurance that whatever you pick will be great because you've only kept the best. Ever on the prowl for simplicity, I gave it a try this afternoon.

Deciding not to tackle my entire wardrobe at once, I only got out my tops But I got out all of them, laid them on the bed, and viciously purged. Don't love it? Neckline is annoying? Never wear it? Too short? Been around too long? Gone. I did not cut down to the suggested 15 tops, but I did chop 26 tops out of my collection and what's left are things I'm excited to wear! How embarrassing that I had nearly thirty tops that were extraneous. As an added bonus, in the course of emptying out my bottom dresser drawer, I found a lost piece of my favorite locket that I'd given up hope of ever finding. What a delightful surprise!

I'll move to bottoms, dresses, outerwear, and shoes soon. Have you tried this? Or a similar purge?


SUNDAY
A second round of wardrobe purging yesterday left me shamed about the state of my closet. I don't have 37 items. I have nearly four times that many. And that's not counting pajamas, yoga pants, swimsuits, or bum-around tshirts. I'm pleased because my clothes are reorganized and sorted, but I'm humbled by the enormity of my collection and my tendency to still be discontent.

We're at the end of the month which often means the food budget is used up and we need to make do with what's in the house. I often ignore this fact in favor of another grocery shopping jaunt, but this time we are not buying anything and we're eating up what we have. And what we have is enough for several days of satisfying meals. Again, I'm humbled by my habit of discontentment.

What if instead of seeking more, I needed less? What if my list of needs actually shrank and contentment became achievable at a lower level of life's ladder, so to speak? What items do I truly need in my wardrobe? Can I whittle it down to a satisfying 37 or 40 pieces? What does my weekly menu need to include? Could I put spaghetti on the menu more often? Or grilled cheese sandwiches?

I'm continuing to work toward simplicity. Less clutter, less stress, and more contentment.

Tonight that meant contentment with a frozen pizza and frozen fries, some of the things we're eating this week, rather than taking another shopping trip. Tomorrow we'll be feasting on this favorite meal, which I can only make thanks to a neighbor who generously gave us some farm-fresh bacon. 

If this idea captures you as it's captured me lately, I recommend Margin by Richard Swenson. Written for those who find their lives overloaded and who've exhausted their energies, finances, and time, Margin proposes a way of life that frees us to enjoy contentment and rest.


Grateful this week for: 
waking up to rain
porch swing sitting
Roku
onion dip
magnolia
alarm clock
coffeepot
porch light
bathroom
devotional book
driveway
hoodie
blustery weather
smell of sunscreen
Banana Split Cream Rita's water ice
cousins

Full Spring: Apr 13 - 19

My flesh trembles in fear of you; I stand in awe of your laws. 
Ps. 119:120

MONDAY
We've got gardens and a patio and a long brick walkway and they all need constant weeding. When spring starts, it's easy to spend a half hour outside pulling baby weeds from between the bricks, drinking in sunshine. I did that today. But as spring sunshine escalates into summer sunmelt, it's a little harder to make regular time for pulling weeds. When I've let the weeding go undone for too long, it's a mammoth task requiring hours. Every time I'm on my hands and knees, easing taproots out from stubborn earth or yanking weedy ground cover out by the fistful, I think about sin. So easy to ignore when it's small. Like a baby weed. But if it's left to grow, it becomes exponentially harder to remove. Not only that, it will also send out little root threads that sprout up farther down the path making the whole thing even more difficult to eradicate. I know that diligent attention to the littlest weeds means that every weeding session will be easier and an hours-long attack won't be necessary. Furthermore, I'm thankful for weeds to be pulled in my gardens because it draws my attention to the weeds that need to be pulled from my heart.


WEDNESDAY
Lunch today:

Oh, springtime, how cheerful you are.

(Even if my fruits are out-of-season and imported.)


FRIDAY
Don't you love it when everything in life suddenly comes together into a single point? It usually happens when I'm reading diligently and especially when I'm reading God's Word and words written by people who love God. This week everything I was reading harmonized beautifully.

It started with the book my ladies bible study is reading, Discipline: The Glad Surrender. "It is nothing short of a transformed vision of reality that is able to see Christ as more real than the storm, love more real than hatred, meekness more real than pride, long-suffering more real than annoyance, holiness more real than sin," says Elisabeth Elliot. She's talking about thinking, using the mind properly. She's talking about evaluating choices and actions. She's talking about ignoring feelings even though they feel most "real." When we're thinking wrongly - or not thinking at all, but merely feeling - the mind will always wander into anxiety, fantasy, indulgence, or bitterness. Right thinking requires diligent attention.

Into this conversation comes Paul. In Romans 1, he describes those who do not glorify or give thanks to God. Their hearts are darkened, he says, not because of wrong actions, but because of useless thinking. They didn't want to waste mental space on understanding God and the result was worthlessness and depravity.

Paul Tripp jumps in with hard words about walking in the faith we profess. "You can praise God for his wisdom in that service on Sunday but be breaking his law on Tuesday because, at street level, you really do think you're smarter than him." How embarrassing to see that we often act as if we're smarter than God! How convicting to realize that our thinking could be so clouded!

Do I harness my mind? Do I keep tabs on my thinking and bring it back when it starts to wander off alone? Occasionally. But intentionally thinking about the things of God and fearlessly letting his thoughts become mine through diligent prayer... that takes time, humility, commitment, surrender, and obedience. "My treatment of people depends on how I think about them," says Elliot. Likewise, my responses to God depend on how I think about Him. I'm challenging myself this coming week to keep a closer watch on my thought life, to squash wrong thoughts that lead to wrong actions and to nurture the thoughts that honor God and build others up.


SATURDAY
Could a spring day be more perfect? A morning walk around our little estate, barefoot, while the air is still cool, cup of hot coffee in hand. Driving home from a consignment sale with a big pile of toddler clothes for H (15 items for less than $20!). A shortcut drive on nearly-forgotten back roads to the farm store for milk. Weeding in the sun. A walk through town with H in his stroller, with a stop at the new park bench on our town's newest sidewalk. Patio dinner with my parents, grilled chicken, curry couscous, and creme brulee for dessert. Talking until the sun is down.

These things could easily be drudgery instead of bliss. Dirty feet after a morning walk in the grass. Driving 30 minutes for second-hand-clothes. Detouring away from home to buy milk. Pulling infinite weeds in the hot sun. Walking through town - and up long hills - for a simple errand. Hosting an outdoor dinner, and cleaning up afterwards. Getting to bed way too late.

A heart that wants to be grateful, a perspective that wants to see gifts, will find joy in the commonplace. A heart of discontent will find reason after reason to be annoyed. Errands and food preparation and yardwork can be satisfying or irritating. While I admit to sometimes being of discontent heart, tonight, my grateful heart is full.

SUNDAY
Evening entertainment while I'm finalizing this blog post:

Husband reads about electricity while Son feeds Bunny from his sippy cup. And life sings.


Grateful this week for: 
milk blooming up in morning coffee
green bunch of cilantro
encouragement from real heart friends
flowers in a first grade girl's hair
nail clippers
smiling daffodils
new pen
barefeet in grass
magnolia petals
grey and white cat, trotting through the yard
springtime, too early for mosquitoes
sunscreen
ice cube trays

Short and Sweet: Apr 6 - 12

Your word is a lamp for my feet and a light for my path. 
Ps. 119:105

MONDAY
Henry's been sick since yesterday. He's had a fever, and absolutely no appetite. It could be those teeth that are still coming in. No way to know for sure. But we had today off and this afternoon I got him to eat some of a fruit and yogurt smoothie. And of course it was an absolutely perfect day for patio playtime.

This evening I checked one thing off my spring to-do list and made skinny jeans out of a pair of college-era flares. I've worn them ragged for ten years now, but I still love them. I found this tutorial on making skinnies out of flares, and decided to give it a try. It worked perfectly! I had to finagle the hems a bit because the pants were quite long and the back had been torn off by years of heel-treading. So I chopped off the hem and resewed the part that was left a little higher. They're not perfect, but it's a success I'm pleased with.


FRIDAY
In addition to books and movies, our local library has a play area for little kids so a couple days this week, including this afternoon, when Henry was crabby and it was raining, we drove over there just for a change of scenery. He cooked play pizza in the play oven while I browsed my goodreads account for recommendations and scanned the library shelves for anything appealing. Today I came home with four books. More afternoons at the library are definitely in our future.

I was an English major for four years of college (and will always remain one in my heart of hearts), but reading comes in fits and starts for me now. Being a wife and mother takes a lot more time than you'd think, and I've found myself drifting away from pleasure reading, partially out of necessity and partially out of lack of interest. When I have time to read, I'd rather chew on some parenting advice or wrestle with thoughts on faith. I'm not drawn as much to novels, or even nonfiction. But this week I finished two books, a second read of a favorite novel and a nonfiction piece, and I've rediscovered my insatiable appetite for reading. Hence, the stack of library books in my arm this afternoon.

I've struggled in the past few years with whether or not pleasure reading has a place in the Christian's life. Should valuable time, emotional energies, and mental space be dedicated to a work of secular fiction? Is that good stewardship of my life? Are memoirs and nonfiction eternally profitable? I've decided, at least for now, that as long as the content does not pull me toward sin or overtly attack my faith, a secular novel or memoir can be a healthy use of time. While rereading Water for Elephants seemed like a bit of a waste intellectually, it provided a different path for my mind, which tends to dig deep ruts in questions like "what's for dinner?" and "when is Henry's next nap?" and "did I pay that bill yet?" A novel is a breeze of cool fresh air, thoughts from someone else's mind that refresh my own. Only recently have I gained the strength to put a book down. "You don't have to drink the whole bottle to know it's vinegar," says Pete when he thinks I'm reading garbage. And he's right. Not all books are worth seeing through to the end. I might not reach the last page of all four of these books I brought home today. But if I find any of them to be gems, maybe I'll write up a review for you.


SATURDAY
A little nod to where I was seven years ago today, saying goodbye to a semester in Oxford, England.

Roommates from the basement quad, aka The Octopus's Garden.

Yes, I've moved on to a delightfully rich life. I'm not stuck in the past. But those three months abroad seeped into every cell in my body and I'll never stop being grateful for them.


Grateful this week for: 
smoothies
patio afternoons
every time Henry took a bite of food
the library
mornings
evenings

Easter: Mar 30 - Apr 5

You yourself have taught me. How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth! I gain understanding from your precepts. 
Ps. 119:102-104


MONDAY
This week I'm meditating on Easter, suddenly seeing the gospel story everywhere. The springtime season reminds me constantly of Christ's death and resurrection, his sacrifice that bought my salvation. The ordinary moments of life are thick with spiritual resemblance. Nothing is by accident and these hints of the gospel are not invented but discovered.

Flower shoots sprout from cold earth, piercing dead leaves on their journey toward the sun. Easter, too, is new life. Someone becoming unburied, pushing out of the ground, refusing to rot. Life springs from death, defeating death forever.

TUESDAY
It's time to clean, to open windows, to sweep and scrub and polish, to get down on hands and knees and clean to the very edges. Easter also brings a clean start. The eternal King becomes an eternal Servant, washing feet and washing souls. He makes the dirtiest things sparkling clean, more effective than any bleach.

WEDNESDAY
Fifteen days until the taxes are due and I'm finally forcing myself to dive into the sea of paperwork. Easter, praise the Lord, is a settled account. An enormous burden, lifted. Debts are paid and nothing more is owed. And the refund check is bigger than you could have possibly imagined.

THURSDAY
Our bathroom project is nearing the end. Soon the waiting will be behind us, completion achieved. Easter, too, is a finished project. The pieces of a huge, much-prophesied puzzle fall into place one by one, coming faster and faster as the end nears. Everything that had been promised happens at long last. And then, finally, it is finished.

FRIDAY
For the past 437 days, the days since Henry was born, every moment of every day has revolved around my son. Nothing avoids being affected by his existence. In a far more important way, Easter is also about a Son. Nothing in the history of the world escapes the ramifications of his existence, of his death and what his death bought. On Good Friday, he refused to save himself so that he could instead save us. The joy my son brings me is nothing in comparison to the joy that Son can give.

SATURDAY
I love candy, but I love Easter candy most of all. And not just because it's shaped like bunnies and comes in pastel colors. Easter candy reflects what Easter means: because of Christ, life is not just simple sustenance. It's piled high with delicacies. Not only is my sin removed, but in its place are poured hundreds of daily gifts, sweets undeserved but given for the encouragement of my soul.

SUNDAY
We spent the day with our family. Brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews, dinner and candy and card games and egg hunts and new toys. It's a slice of heaven to share a day with the people we treasure most, celebrating the occasion that secures us eternal life. Easter is about a family much larger than our Mountz clan. Because of the cross and the empty tomb, we are welcomed into a family that spans centuries and continents. We're looking forward to meeting spiritual cousins from China and Canada, from 1266 and 1932. Not only this, but we will meet our Brother, the one whose sacrifice gives us the right to call God "Father," the one who invented families and calls us to put our earthly ones second to Him. The satisfaction of a loving family hints at the sweet perfection we will one day feel in the presence of the whole family of faith as, together, we worship the One who defeated death for our sake on Easter morning.

Grateful this week for: 
responsible students
ice cubes
baby hands in garden dirt
blonde hair
evening of gardening
peanut butter cookies
second cup of coffee
gmail chat
light rain
sunny afternoon
crossed baby ankles
chirping birds
bedtime peekaboo
finding a missing sock in the clean sheets
stories with Ellie
sleeping in
breezes
finishing touches in the new bathroom
baby ibuprofen
egg hunt
the empty tomb

Satisfied: Mar 23 - 29

Your word, O Lord, is eternal... Your faithfulness continues through all generations... Your laws endure to this day, for all things serve You. 
Ps. 119:89-91


MONDAY
Henry got two more shots today. So naturally we went straightaway to Rita's for a treat.

While we were in the same shopping center, I stopped in Jo-Ann for some buttons I needed for a few projects. Henry entertained himself.

The sweet thing about this moment was that I remember fabric shopping with my mom, as a little girl, and when she'd be scrounging the aisles for the best deals, my sister and I would sift through the bins of loose buttons. Now that I reflect on it, I wonder if they were there purely for entertaining restless kids stuck with shopping mamas, and not actually for purchasing. Each bin had a rubber hand puppet, the kind you might get in a fast food kids meal, as a scoop. (If you're dying to know, I'm fairly sure they were these. My sister might remember for sure.) So we could scoop up a puppet-ful of buttons, dump them out, match colors, bicker over favorites, and then pour them back into the bin. It was endlessly fun. It's an isolated memory, one that doesn't have much context, but one that I can almost feel with all my senses all over again. The smell of the rubber puppet, the texture of buttons on child skin, the rainstick sound of falling buttons... My childhood is a bin of memories, each differently textured, many unmatched, some hard to find again once they're dumped back, others always seeming to be at the surface.

I'm aware of this as I'm raising my son, mindful of the memories he's storing and the moments that he'll return to in his mind over and over again.


FRIDAY
It's been a satisfying week. A few specific triumphs:
- Henry's naps are back on track. After a few weeks of short and unpredictable afternoon naps, he's back on track with a shorter morning nap and a slightly longer afternoon nap.
- The new bathroom has a coat of primer and is ready for real paint!
- There was no snow this week!
- Pete decided to eat fruits and veggies - just fruits and veggies - for lunch every day this week. Packing lunches was a breeze.
- I sorted through all my old jewelry, found a few special things to keep and purged most of the remaining items.
- We hosted friends for a yummy dinner.
- I'm spearheading a 10-Year Reunion for my high school class.
- As of today, Henry's sign language vocabulary includes two words: "Please" and "All done." 

Taking joy in these little gifts tonight as we share an extra large supreme pizza (it's Friday, after all!) and head into a lazy weekend.


SUNDAY
Even in the most satisfying of times, discontentment scurries across the mind. At first it's hard to identify. "Was that resentment? Am I dissatisfied?" It's ignored, allowed to stay. So restlessness chews out little holes and breeds in dark corners, sneaking into passageways and crawlspaces and reappearing in the least likely parts of life. Lovely gifts are suddenly not lovely enough. Life fails to meet a standard. Expectations are unfair and unreasonable. The dream home that you've loved is no longer what you want. Suddenly discontentment is everywhere. You find it when you look in the fridge, when you fold up the laundry, when you dust your second-hand furniture, and you definitely find it when you open pinterest and instagram.

I used to look at my gorgeous old home and see charm, history, elegance, and a fifty-year future as a treasured family estate. Lately, all I see is chipping paint, cracking plaster, creaking floors, disintegrating roof, leaking basement, wasted space, too much dust, and a big fat mortgage bill swallowing paychecks every month.

Today our new bathroom has a first fresh coat of Americana Blue and it's stunning. But all I can think about are all the things that aren't good enough. When my bathroom is complete, will I be satisfied? When every room in my house resembles the pinterest board I've assembled, when all my clothes match the 'essential wardrobe' pictures in the magazines, when all my menus are planned a week in advance and all my groceries are organic and stored in a spotless fridge, when our mortgage is paid, and when my daily schedule includes hours for reading and writing, will discontentment be squashed?

I need an Exterminator for these swarms of dissatisfied thoughts.

"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth," says the One who comes to eradicate the nests of discontentment. "Is not life more important than food and the body more important than clothes? In my Father's house are many rooms and I am going there to prepare a place for you. In this world you will have trouble but take heart. I have overcome the world!"

And every day, if I'll let Him, He overcomes the bitter this-isn't-good-enough thoughts that infest me, sweeping my mind clean again. Satisfaction does not require perfection. In fact, it grows best in the rich soil of an imperfect life. In a home that cracks and creaks, my soul can be satisfied as if living in Cinderella's palace. In a tired outfit worn a few too many times, my soul can be content as if wearing the latest J Crew. Things cannot satisfy. The soul finds contentment and peace in His unseen kingdom or not all.

Scripture references from Matthew 6:19, Matthew 6:25, John 14:2, John 16:33, and Psalm 63:1&5.

Here's that Americana Blue:

Grateful this week for:
fresh blue paint
a last hug
kind vaccine nurse
felt chair footies
semisweet chocolate chips
painters tape
high school yearbook

Just a Little Emotional: Mar 16 - 22

My eyes fail, looking for your promise; I say "When will you comfort me?"
They almost wiped me from the earth, but I have not forsaken your precepts. 
Ps. 119:82, 87
I had a hard time with this week's verses (Ps. 119:81-88) until I put them in the context of my brothers and sisters around the globe whose physical lives are at risk daily as a result of their faith. Considering this passage in that light helped me know how to better pray for these dear people.


THURSDAY
So far this week... 
Car: Inspected
Scones: Baked
Budget spreadsheet: Updated
Boxes of thrift store items: Dropped off
Emails: Sent
Stamps: Purchased
Gardens: Raked

But...
Floors: Not vaccumed
Bank: Not visited
Buttons: Not bought
Doctor's office: Not called
Taxes: Not started

My life is lists and schedules and checkmarks this week. Nothing urgent or earth-shattering, just getting through the days.

Every week will only be about lists and checkmarks unless I focus on something more eternally meaningful. All my weeks will blur together in an aimless dotted line of phone calls, errands, purchases, chores, and appointments unless I preempt the day's To Do List with a more important list. Have I prayed for people I love? Have I resisted - even just once - the temptation to say something unkind? Have I reminded myself of the message of the gospel and of the salvation that was bought for me? If I can remember these things, put them on my list, make them a priority for my time and my thoughts, I will have weeks that build, one on the next on the next, bringing me slowly closer to the holiness I'm asked to pursue.


FRIDAY
First day of Spring today.

This was Tuesday.

This was today.

You wouldn't know it, but winter is officially over and wonderful springtime has come. As you might have guessed, we had early dismissals again today so Pete left with me at 12 and drove me to pick up Henry. I was very glad he did because the drive was horrible. We did make a stop for free Rita's, though. The first day of spring is the first day of spring, snowstorm or no snowstorm.


SATURDAY
Blogged a few recipes today over at Dinner in Parkerford.  Check it out over the next few days for waffle, tilapia, and chicken recipes!


SUNDAY
"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken," says C. S. Lewis. We have deeply loved a couple who said goodbye today. A pastor and his wife, who had become a dear pair of friends, leave this week for a new life five states away. And tonight our hearts are broken.

Yes, there is facebook and email and instagram. And yes, of course there is heaven. But sharing this life with someone - learning, being inspired, being changed - is different. Hearing a voice, seeing a smile, sharing a meal, learning to sew, furiously copying down words of a sermon, asking for a recipe, praying together, swapping baby advice... these things are precious. And now these things are gone.

I have said goodbye to dear friends before. I know that life goes on. Our friends will find new friends. We will find ways to patch the gaping holes they've left behind. It is not often that friends stay in your life for a lifetime and though we are sad tonight, we are so grateful for the years we had to share with them.

Goodbye, beloved friends. We will pray you all the way to Alabama... and maybe one day, back to Pennsylvania again.


Grateful this week for: 
borrowed van
yardwork
warm sun on skin
new stamps
bathtime tickles
aunts
flannel
Dorothy
fabrics
textures
strawberries
cooperation
mud
Be Thou My Vision

That Busy Week: Mar 9 - 15

Your hands made me and formed me; give me understanding to learn your commands. 
Ps. 119:73

MONDAY
Honesty first. Today was mostly good with a little smidge of this:

But let's be real. We all feel like that at around 4:30 in the afternoon. Especially if we've been tricked into wearing overalls all day. Poor little chap.

After a long weekend of hard work (including Jon and Pete spackling late into the night yesterday), our new bathroom now looks like this:

I could not have imagined at Christmas time that by spring I'd have a brand new bathroom. So my joy tank is pretty full. But at the same time I've had to learn to live in a construction zone for the past two months. We have a one-year-old in a house full of power tools. We have dust everywhere. (Everywhere.) We have lights removed and a hallway full of drywall sheets and no free Saturdays and a thick bundle of Home Depot receipts to tally up. I've had to suspend certain expectations and desires for the sake of something greater. Construction forces that. Construction requires time and materials and energy and space that would have otherwise been used in other ways.

Living in the construction zone means that things are inconvenient, messy, temporary, and constantly changing. As I step over two-by-fours to reach my hair dryer, I think about the mess we are always living in, in our own souls. My heart is not fully finished. Or, if I think it is, there's some part that's about to be demo'd so some renovations can occur. My soul is constantly being upgraded and made-over. In my home, I yearn for an end to change and for the freedom to live without disturbance. And though life-after-construction may come in my house, it will never happen in my heart.

Living in the construction zone means that things are messy, but it also means that things are on their way to being better. To wish for an end to change is to wish for a partially-unfinished project. And when God starts a renovation, he never leaves it unfinished. My heart will be a construction zone for all the days of my life. It means I'm never fully settled, things are never totally convenient or neat or finalized. But it means I am constantly becoming more like the finished project I'm meant to become. And waiting for that is worth putting some expectations on the shelf.

I'm looking forward to the finished project in my house. But in my heart, I'm content to live under construction indefinitely.

As a side note, Pete had rehearsal at school until late, but Henry and I had this for dinner. It is so good it needs to be on the menu every week.


WEDNESDAY
My boys love the garden.

My two favorite people, sharing joy over pebbles from the garden.
A sled, but no snow left.
Mossy brick patio in warm spring sun.
This is perfection.


THURSDAY

Our school produced The Sound of Music this spring. I have to confess that I was prepared to be unimpressed. Not only does the classic movie set the bar miles too high for a tiny private school to reach, but I've also seen two other stage versions (in both of which my sister had a lead role) and I am a bit biased toward those particular productions. I wanted to see our efforts, but I was hesitant to raise my hopes too high.

Tonight I attended opening night and the cast stunned me. In the first scene, our Mother Abbess, an eighth-grader, gave me chills with her outstanding voice. Our Maria, a senior, and our Captain, a senior who had never been on stage until this show, both delivered polished and convincing performances. Our Uncle Max, also an eighth-grader, is on student council and often stumbles over his words when doing morning announcements over the school loudspeaker. But he nailed every line of his dialogue and his songs. Elsa Schrader, Admiral von Schreiber, and Franz were also new to the stage and made impressive debuts.

Entrusting a show of this magnitude to a school of no special merit, with limited budget, limited casting pool, and limited stage space might seem a big risk. It did to me. But our students came through with a stellar production and I was very proud.

Did anything give you a pleasant surprise this week?

PS: The handsome guy in the pit orchestra on Trumpet III was my husband. He did a great job too.


SATURDAY
I have not thought of myself as a foreigner. Or as a compromiser. Or as unfaithful. But Nancy Guthrie's talks on Redeeming Love at our Women's Retreat this weekend taught me that I am all of those things and only the free love of Christ can peel those labels off and give me a new identity.

Using three stories from the Old Testament, Nancy showed us pictures of Christ and what his love can do for us who are empty and lost. In Ruth, in Esther, and in Hosea, we see people who need a savior. The redeemers in these stories are mere humans, but what they do points to our greater Redeemer: the grace he has shown, the protection he provides, the promise he gives, the abundance he offers, the sacrifice he made, the doors he opens, the kingdom he prepares, the patience he displays, the restoration he undertakes, and the devoted way he pursues us, regardless of our behavior.

I won't try to reproduce all that Nancy taught, or boil her hours of teaching down into a few sentences. But here are a few thoughts I walked away with on Saturday evening:

1. Wow, the Bible is rich. Did you realize that the fields outside Bethlehem were the setting for Ruth gleaning in Boaz's grain before he marries her, David sheep-tending before he's anointed as king, and the shepherds watching their flocks before the angel appears with the good news? Those are fields of grace, fields where big things happen in ordinary moments!

2. Things that seem like not-really-a-big-deal to me are actually great wickedness to God. The Israelites' slow slide into baal worship must have seemed pretty mild to them. They still loved Jehovah, after all. They just added some baal worship to the mix too. Any time I find myself worshiping anything except the Lord, it is prostitution. But God does not punish me. He's already punished Christ in my place. He is patient and tender. He convicts me, renews me, and slowly purifies me.

3. The practical questions of the Christian life that I'm always trying to answer (How do I love that annoying person better? What should I say when that issue is raised again? Where is God leading my family and how will I discern His will?) matter a lot less than I thought. The heart of the life God has for us is not finding answers to these questions, even if by "finding answers" I mean diligently praying and seeking the Lord's will. The life God has for me is not defined by "getting it right" or by anything external. Ruth's life was not defined by her Moabite heritage, nor Esther's by her status as queen, nor Gomer's by her prostitution. Instead, my heart should be dwelling on what Christ has done and the names he's written across my life: Beloved, Accepted, Forgiven, Mine.


SUNDAY
This was a hectic week. And at the end of it, Pete and I were both busy all weekend. But we started something this weekend that I think will be good: Sundayte. I was inspired by an instagram post by Val Marie Paper in which she mentioned weekend "Family Meetings" she has with her husband. I realized we needed something like this: a check-in to discuss the upcoming week, share things that we've been storing up to talk about, make each other aware of anticipated plans, and just open the floor for addressing those deeper things that a busy week doesn't allow space for. The plan is to have our Sundayte on Sunday evenings, after Henry's in bed. We'll have special drinks, special snacks, anything that will make it feel like a mini date, and we'll talk. This weekend, we had it on Saturday night because Pete anticipated being at school late on Sunday night working on plans for the week (which turned out to be true). So our first Sundayte was a Saturdayte. Oh well.

Do you do anything like this in your marriage or family?


Grateful this week for: 
warm porch
new sippy cup
checking off a to-do list
Bible verses coming to mind
buzzfeed
Henry signing 'please'
fake flowers
folded clothes in piles
a perfect night's sleep
basement sump pump
patio bricks
dirt
seeds
corner brownie
Nancy Guthrie's messages
borrowed toddler clothes