The 90s Are Back

This isn't what you think,
I am not giving a runway collage of the stirrup pants and side ponytails with their giant scrunchies as they obnoxiously creep, or rather storm their way back into society.
I'll leave to the professionals.
What this is about, is my childhood. 
My golden years of simplicity and discovery were in the 1990s, so I am using them as a rough timeframe, and not as an actual reference to the culture of that decade.

I don't think many people can say this, but the 90s treated me well.

In looking back at who we were as a child, we can often see who it is we shall become as adults. The dreams and emotions of children have the incredible ability to hold on through whatever storms life brings, it’s just a matter of allowing things to settle down so they can come out and shine.

This picture I love for so many reasons. Most of them are clearly evident. Check out that mullet and sweatsuit! Golden! The other reason is that I am standing beside my older brother who received both the guitar and microphone for his birthday. Pretty nice of him to let me share the spotlight, I think. 
My brother Jesse is definitely the "I look up to you" sort of older brother. He is married to an amazing wife, and they have two ADORABLE kids! Besides that they have been some of the most encouraging people in my life. They are pursuing the Lord with such steadfast faith that I am stirred and  convicted to do likewise.
The other thing I really appreciate about this picture, and the reason I am including it in this post, is because I am a rockstar. Indeed,
I AM TEARING IT UP ON VOCALS.
And where do I find myself today? Alongside three amazing musicians,
learning to let the seams of trust and confidence open up.

here's the link to our band's site
http://www.cathedralpearls.com/

This other picture is a collection of some poems I stumbled on when I was packing to move out of my parents house. I wrote these, at approximately age 10. My Grandparents had this fantastic typewriter in a spare room that I would clatter away on making up stories and poems. Of course this would be followed by decorating them with the appropriate stickers I found in an old desk. Those memories are all very clear, and very happy. Looking back I see several qualities that were instilled in me during those times.

{A love for typewriters.}

Theirs wasn't too ancient but it had the most satisfying click-click-click as you typed.

{Desks with little drop down tables and lots of cubbys.}

See all those little slots, that's where I would arrange all of my blank paper, works-in-progress, completed-works, and stickers. I think that was also an early sign of my deep love of organization.

I think this one is fantastic, but my Grandparents' was much simpler. Someday, when Max and I have a much bigger living space, a desk like this will be on the top of my list to purchase.

And the most important quality,

{a love for writing.}

There are very few things that I enjoy more, and give me that "inner exhilaration, the surge of spiritual energy, the utter delight in your soul" (Bonte Rue: Dreams...)

I have said it before, and I will say it again,

 "Art is merely the expression of self"

And in writing, all deep contents of my heart are freely poured out.

It's the Little Things

Over the weekend I got a down-right-awful head-cold/fever/cough.

I got to spend a good amount of time in bed resting up, and having freakish dreams.

Beside that I was reminded of how much I love "the little things." Happiness rarely evades me. It doesn't take a whole lot to make me smile or laugh. It's usually pretty difficult not to. Some days I walk out the front door to go to work and start laughing at the squirrels running around our yard, imaging them to be frantic and frazzled.

So when there's not a whole lot one can do, it's wonderful to have someone that will bless you in all the little ways. Max and I have both been astounded at how quickly, and how often, we are given opportunities to live out the vows we spoke on our wedding day.

He had bought me flowers earlier in the week and while he was at work it made my heart so incredibly happy to look at them on the table and know how blessed I am to have such a sweet husband. It is a great mystery to Max how a small bouquet of flowers can make a woman so thrilled.

again. and again. and again. and again.

Every time I walk into the room, in fact.

My Mom used to buy us milkshakes when we were sick. Or maybe it was only when I had strep throat several times in a year. And when I had my wisdom teeth pulled. Anyways, my doting husband carried on the tradition and went bought me one while I napped. Strawberry. Although the dairy was terrible for my cough, I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Fresh sheets on the bed are great. Fresh sheets on the bed when they are Hotel Collection are incredible. As I climbed into bed that night there were several words of praise and thanks coming out of these lips.

Thankfully my cough has subsided and the fever is gone. The gravelly voice I struggled to use at work this morning has mostly mellowed out. My eye isn't twitching incessantly. Now I'm just a sniffling, sneezing girl, with clogged ears. A beautiful picture to imagine...

All this to say,

Good Health to You!

A Hope Both Sure and Steadfast

My husband and I currently find ourselves in a frustrating predicament. I have a daytime job in an office, and he works nights at a restaurant. So our time together = 1-2 hours after I come home, before he leaves. We've rearranged some things on our schedule to fit more time together, but still the weeks can leave us sad and lonely. 

But enough with the drudgery. Last night we had a great conversation. People seem to really enjoy telling us "it's only for a season," but the fact that this season has no clear end in sight, really doesn't help us. So we talked about where we want to be and how we want to get there, don't worry this might get interesting soon... The talk was good and I fell asleep incredibly happy and blessed just to know that I was going to spend the rest of my life with my best friend. And I had this dream- We were on a mini-vacation in Washington DC, just seeing the sights and enjoying the history. In my non-dream, real life I spent a little over two months in our nation's capital, so this dream was literally (note that I am using this word correctly) a stroll down memory lane. I was showing my husband all my favorite spots and telling him about things we should do. As we were walking to the Supreme Court, I was so excited to see tulips had been positioned and situated in the most fantastic rows of color and shape. (If you have ever been to Washington DC, you know they have incredible gardeners.) I was ecstatic about their beauty and brightness. Then I woke up. Yet all day I have had thoughts of tulips in my head. The actual meaning of tulips is nice enough, but for me it was the peaceful assurance, a sign that seasons change, and that even brighter and more beautiful things lie ahead. A perfect reminder of, "this hope we have as an anchor of the soul, a hope both sure and steadfast".

These days, I don't get to have many exciting travels with my husband, but I know just like those bulbs that will spring up soon, the dreams and expectations in my heart can't be weighed down by present circumstances.

1--2--3--JUMP!

Today I did something I would have never guessed myself bold and confident enough for. I plunged myself into the waters of music, joining my husband and two friends in their new project. I feel completely ridiculous surrounded by three amazing musicians, trying to memorize inverted chords and harmonies, but their encouragement and faith in me is incredible. 

It got me to thinking about how blessed I am to have such people in my life. I wrote this bit of prose for my husband shortly after we were engaged, and thought it was suiting for today. Here 'tis:

I’ve been most afraid of standing on the edge and reaching my hands out into the unknown.  Of feeling the air, so thin, certainly unable to hold me in peace.  One unsteady step, and the wind would be rushing past, caught up in the fall, knowing my own failures to be the cause.  But today, my body can’t help following your smile. So 1---2---3! Catch me if you can! Now my heart has slipped right out my sleeve, no longer tucked safely inside.  It’s only right you unlocked the door to my leap.  When you took off my winter coat, you wrapped me up in your love.  There was no ignorance, only bliss, and my hesitancy was met with faith.  Hope sprang up in my soul when your kiss graced my life.  I knew this was safe to trust.  So let your embrace bring me to a heap on the floor and your whispered words build me into a tower of beauty.  All we were meant to be surely is peaking over the horizon of our love.  Sandpaper scratched against my will, but giving in never felt so sweet.  Ring around my finger, and a pocket full of joy that pours out onto these sorrowful streets.  Somehow certainty made me full, yet adventure has left me dreaming of more.  How can we turn our backs on a good thing? I could never turn my back on such blessing. From this day, until forever.

Over the Wall

I have discovered that remembering and redefining goals is an invaluable journey. I was prompted to do so the other day after talking to my sister that lives out of town. We were exchanging those casual inquiries, yet somehow they churned the deep arguments of the soul.

It got me to thinking about the things that I want to do, and the things that stop me from doing them.

I am terribly afraid of falling. Being in a tall building or on a mountain doesn't frighten me much. But if I have to jump, I absolutely just.can't.do.it. People assuredly tell me, "once you do it you'll think it was so silly to have been hesitant and scared". So I'll jump, and be assured it will take a couple years for me to ever try it again. Loss of control, predictability, and certainty that I will land safely is to high a price for a momentary feeling of the wind through my hair. I'd rather just roll down the window in my car.

When it comes to doing something new and unknown, I get this exact same burning and turning in my stomach. I feel like a foolish butterfly tugging at the rope of wishful thinking, so firmly tied to an anchor of impossibility.

Then this verse came to me:

"For by You I can run against a troop, By my God I can leap over a wall." (Psalm 18:29)

This prompted me to define the walls that hold me back, and more importantly, the walls I wanted to leap over. 

The Berlin Wall was constructed mid-1961 and it wasn't until late-1989 that it came down. I was only two years old at that time, but to have understood the beauty of this would have been amazing. My dad says he remembers where he was, that feeling of joy and excitement for those who could finally experience freedom. Unfortunately, we don't have to look too far to see similar walls around us today.

Yes, We've all had our peeks beyond our current circumstances, and talked about the glorious times they were. I just want more than a glimpse.

I'm tired of walking and playing beside walls.  

More than all this, I am so overwhelmingly glad that I don't have to do it all myself. I faced the truth long ago: My 5'2" stature can't gracefully leap over any obstacle. And the rest of me has just as much trouble getting to where I most want to go.

So I hold on to this- "by my God I can leap over a wall."

I love the celebrations that happen on the other side of a wall. And I can't wait for more of them.