That I may remain

Every time I start one of these I am confronted by the same blank screen. A pure white empty screen just waiting for my messy words. It stares me down time after time, wishing me into the opportunity it offers. To pen my current state. For better or for worse.

And it is scary. Completely terrifying.

Because at times my current state is anything but pure. It is anything but shiny and promising and worthy of admiring.

There is this saying that you are your harshest critic. At times if feels that that tiny adage holds every ounce of its truth just for me. Because analysis is a part of my days. My steps and thoughts and heart and motivations and words and decisions. I boil them down and pick apart the spoils. To find where I fall short. Where I could be better.

At times this is good. Harsh, but so very good. Because it moves me forward. Toward the Father. And to that end, my analysis is helpful and sound.

Other times it is such a big fat hindrance. A chain that wraps around my limbs and binds me to my failures. My inability to be who I desire to be.

Because most days I walk into my house and immediately see my own chaos. My inability to find discipline in my life. A Bible opened to the same page it was a month ago. A pile of clothes toppling off the end of the couch. Right where I left it last night (if I actually managed to remove it from the dryer). A sink filled with crusty dishes. A stack of unwritten cards intended for other's encouragement.

Each marking their tally of failure on my heart. In my deepest places, my defeats are recorded and analyzed and remembered. Deleting the good from my day and focusing attention on all those places I can't seem to get right.

Where I fail my husband. My family. Myself. My God.

But the Lord has sung His truth over me this week. His melody has been heard above all of my inner noise. All of my grumblings and self-doubt. I have breathed in the goodness of His Word and exhaled the chaos of my messy house and uncooked meals and undisciplined schedule and honestly, my unhappy attitude.

He has reminded me of what it is to abide. To find His heart rather than my own. To see His face past the junk that always seems to trip me up.

He has sung:

I am the true grapevine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch of mine that doesn't produce fruit, and he prunes the branches that do bear fruit so they will produce even more. You have already been pruned and purified by the message I have given you. Remain in me, and I will remain in you. For a branch cannot produce fruit if it is severed from the vine, and you cannot be fruitful unless you remain in me. 
Yes, I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from me you can do nothing. Anyone who does not remain in me is thrown away like a useless branch and withers. Such branches are gathered into a pile to be burned. But if you remain in me and my words remain in you, you may ask for anything you want, and it will be granted! When you produce much fruit, you are my true disciples. This brings great glory to my Father. 
I have loved you even as the Father has loved me. Remain in my love. When you obey my commandments, you remain in my love, just as I obey my Father's commandments and remain in his love. I have told you these things so that you will be filled with my joy. Yes, your joy will overflow! This is my commandment: Love each other in the same way I have loved you. There is no greater love than to lay down one's life for one's friends. You are my friends if you do what I command. I no longer call you slaves, because a master doesn't confide in his slaves. Now you are my friends, since I have told you everything the Father has told me. You didn't choose me. I chose you. I appointed you to go and produce lasting fruit, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask for, using my name. This is my command: Love each other.

And His song is refreshing to my deepest places. Where guilt at times takes its reign. And defeat is known.

Because His song speaks of the pruning shears of the Father, and the beauty that follows his knowing cuts. It sings of the fruit of my life and not simply the lack thereof. It slices to the heart of my pity and self-doubt and stirs my heart to simply abide. To simply remain. In the love of Christ. In the depths of His grace.

It harmonizes with what I know about myself and what is only known by Him.

You see, His song has reminded me that loving my husband is at times freshly cleaned clothes packed away in their rightful home. That at times loving myself is disciplining my heart and managing my time in a way that prepares it for the harshness of this world. That at times loving others is actually writing on those stacks of cards sweet words of encouragement that will offer a much needed embrace.

But sometimes it is simply abiding. Cutting myself a bit of slack. Removing myself from my own harshness. And just sitting with the One who can (and will) shape my decisions and movements and breaths. Who overshadows my own analysis and replaces it with His presence. His kindness. His thoughts of who I am Him because of who He is.

Sometimes loving is simply being found in Him. Pruned and increasingly similar. Ready for life with others because of who we are with Him.

He has sung that I am not my piles of laundry. I am not my failures and doubt.

I am His.

And today I am tuning my heart to hear and sing His song over my own. To love like He loves. And to remain there.

Pumpkins and hatchets and such

October in Texas is an interesting phenomenon.

Texas has quite the sense of humor when it comes to her seasons. She taunts you with cool mornings, making you hopeful that a crisp and invigorating Fall has begun, only to change her mind mid-way through the day, offering the same ol' warmth we have experienced all the summer through.

Nonetheless, Fall is a favorite of mine. Friends and fair days and the brief inhale of cooler temperatures and scarves (oh the scarves) and boots and pumpkins of every shade and size and reminders to give thanks and football basketball and the changing of the leaves (kind of) and just an overall welcomed change of heartbeat and breath and rhythm. It is so needed in my year.

But more than all of those things there is a multitude of celebration in the Fall. There is this sweet little collection of loved ones who found life in October. And they are dear to my heart and imperative to my everyday. And it is so very refreshing and life-giving to celebrate each one of them.

You see, in the first week of October we get to celebrate our sweetest sister-in-law. She is such an extraordinary person and has been so much fun to get to know. She made her way into our hearts long before she married into them. She is the picture of strength in difficult times (of which there have been many) and finds the positive in almost any circumstance. I am astounded by her perseverance and support for her husband and family in all things. Her time as a mother has proven to only compliment her further as she has loved her sweet babies well and goes before me as an example of what that kind of love looks like. So celebrating Jasmine is easy to do. She makes the Crumby clan better and for that we celebrate.

As we round the corner into week two of October, we get to celebrate the one and only Sharon Crumby. That lady. Where do you even start? She is a hoot. There is no getting around that. There is a reason my husband finds the joy in laughter. His momma taught him well. From her "helpful hints" to her funny quips, she is hilarious through and through. But we celebrate her for more than her funny words. Because she is one of the most giving, sacrificial people we know. We talk about it all the time. It is truly astounding the lengths she would go to care for those she loves. It is inspiring. I hope I can give the way she does. With time. And finances. And life. So we celebrate our favorite Shay (at least as much as she'll let us). And it is so good and so minimal compared to what is deserved.

Exactly one week later, my mom becomes our celebration. And honestly, this one stumps me every year. Because how do you show someone who has inserted so many good and beautiful things into your life how truly celebrated they are? Because she is so many things we hope to be. And the funny thing is she might not even see those things in herself. We celebrate because she is wise and practical and joyful in her giving and strives to always be better and more and never stop growing in her faith. And because she allows us to be who we are and supports us in it all. She is the greatest cheerleader there is. She loves by remembering. Remembering little pieces of you. The things you enjoy. The things you desire (big or small). The things you wish for with all your being. And so on the 18th of October, we attempt to give a bit of that back in celebration. To remember her desires and plans and wishes and hopes. Even if it could never be enough.

In the final week of this fun Fall month, we get to celebrate two of our sweetest friends. And it is a reminder of how important community is. That it should be celebrated with all our might and in all opportunities.

On the 26th we get to celebrate Courtney. We celebrate her as the most positive person around. She can see the light in any situation. Joy just tags alongside her wherever she goes. Like her shadow. It is inescapable and so deeply celebrated on her day. And she is celebrated because she is life-giving. She desires to know and see and feel right alongside you. No matter the current circumstance or trouble. And this year was hard because our celebrations were not in person. The squeezing and laughing and eating and instagraming were not what they have been. But can I tell you as hard as that was for all involved, my heart was filled with rejoicing all day for my sweet friend's life. There were not many moments yesterday where she was not on my mind and celebration was not spilling from my spirit. Because in a season where celebration looks a bit more distant and different, there is this sweet little reminder that overflows into rejoicing every time in comes to mind.

The Lord is so very good.

He covers the distance. He covers the difference. He allows for celebration in all seasons and in all things. Because He is so darn good. So we celebrated you, sweet Courtney. We celebrated your heart and your friendship and your life and your decision to step into where the Lord has called your family. Distance or not, we celebrated you.

And then just a few days later (tomorrow, in fact), we get to celebrate our friend Kollin(face). We celebrate him as a lifelong friend. As a friend for all seasons. As a friend with the best kind of laugh and the deepest kind of heart. As someone who believes in those he loves. We have seen it time and time again. He is quick to defend those who need a little defending. Who need a little encouraging. We celebrate his love and knowledge of all things sports and his quick wit and his determination to truly live into who the Lord has made him to be. We celebrate his love for Remes and his quirky love for his yard. It is so good to celebrate someone who is such a reminder of how life can weave in and out and thread in all different directions but somehow still connect you to friendship. So we celebrate our fun Kollin(face). Hatchets and all.

And this year we have added one more to our month of celebrations. The tiniest additions sometimes are the very sweetest I've come to find. And my heart leaps for joy at the thought of celebrating this new little friend each year. Seeing him grow (but not too fast) and learn and become a little dude. And this month has been such a fun one as we celebrate sweet weeks of life with this little man. We celebrate the tiniest milestones. And it is so very joyful and welcomed. So we celebrate you too, little Samuel Neil. We love you for all that you already are and celebrate that you have entered into this little family of October fun. We have been waiting to celebrate you and are so glad you are here.

October is a fun one. It is a good month. And my hope is that it always serves as a reminder of how to celebrate those around you. See them for all their good. For all there is to love. And to hope for their future and celebrate not simply the life already lived but that which is to come. People need that. And October is a good time for it. To breathe deep. And just celebrate.

The d word

It's been weeks. Maybe even a month.

Gosh, has it been that long?

And I know I am not supposed to say it, much less write it. In (digital) ink. Where it is permanent. Where others can see it. And know.

Know of my disinterest.

That seemingly unassuming "d" word. The one which shows up on occasion. Like an unwelcome house guest. The one that quietly knocks on the door of my heart and lets itself in when I'm not paying attention. Because, you see, I have left the door unlocked. Unprotected. Unguarded.

Oh sure, I could blame it on my busyness. I could pretend that I didn't notice it once it made its way in. But I did.

I noticed it all. The dismissed thoughts of praying instead of talking. The decision to fill my time with anything but that which would truly satisfy. The constant swatting back of any sort of conviction to pause and contemplate the purpose of my days. I noticed every step of the way that disinterest swayed my decisions and words and dreams and steps. I noticed.

And I have told myself to simply commit myself to what I know to be true. Whether it is what I desire at the moment or not.

And I have come up short. I just have.

I have noticed within myself a shortage of discipline. Of perseverance. Of the stuff that makes up those that are noteworthy. Honorable in the sight of the Lord. The "good" Christ-followers. Whatever that means.

And it is embarrassing. And I hate to type it. To admit that after all these years and all my experiences, that I still find myself sitting in this moment. Filled with disinterest.

But there is a part of me which is committed to documenting this time. To expose my heart in all its messy glory. To be honest enough to evaluate where I fall short.

And today I am praying. Begging rather. For renewed strength to seek what is best. Whether I feel it or not.

It is a cry for help. To the only One who can. A cry for the strength I do not contain of myself to make this life count. To live with a purpose. To abolish my disinterest and kindle this seemingly extinguished flame.

And I know that He is faithful to hear me. Whether my heart looks a little crusty and hardened or renewed and willing. He hears me.

Much needed perspective

So, there is this thing about being an adult. It seems (at least at times) to provide the slightest edge in perspective. It allows one to see things as they couldn't through younger eyes.

Now, I am most certainly not claiming to be mature. Nor am I claiming to always present myself as an adult. But I am on the verge of 30 and that counts for something. (Right?)

In the past month, I have found myself in the midst of family. Family that I hadn't quite seen. Not at least for who they really are.

Because I have a big family. There are SO many of them. And they are loud and crazy and love to have fun.

I have always known that.

And I have always enjoyed being around them. Holidays spent with them have always been a blast. Something I looked forward to all year.

But this month, I have seen deeper. I have been confronted with who they really are. How they REALLY love. And honestly I couldn't be more thankful.

It began with a weekend in Galveston.

Despite the fact that the overwhelming majority of my family was not present for the weekend, there was much talk them. Old stories from college. Memories of holidays and trips. Hilarious conversations relived. Choices made along the way.

One theme made its way throughout all of the words spoken: our family is weird.

Weird because they get along.

They enjoy being around each other.

And sadly that makes my big 'ol family quite strange. And I didn't quite realize it until I heard all the stories. How truly connected my family is to each other. How much they know about each other and how often they CHOOSE to be around each other. On vacations. And girl's trips. And at football games. And on the phone. And in group texts. And on and on.

And honestly this shouldn't be surprising to me. Because they have always been nothing short of wonderful. But life has been busy and somehow I have missed the fullness of it. I haven't opened these brown eyes wide enough to take in how sweet family is. How incredible it is that mine is so close. How beyond our culture that is.

And it is such a gift.

Because there is this thing about having a weird family. They pride themselves on supporting each other. They want to know about all the things going on in your life. They desire to be present. They choose to be a part.

And this makes time with family all the more sweet.

And I am praying that I never forget how good I have it. How very lucky I am to be surrounded by a group of people who love big and hold tight.

And as the season of thanksgiving peeks its head around the corner, I am praising my Father for them. All of them. Because family is good. And I most certainly have the best.

This lady is seriously the cutest Mimi around.

My little ring bearer. Not so little anymore.

JDRF Walk with aunts and cousins (and friends).

This is one of my favs due to the mischievous faces my cousins are making in the background.

Many more pictures to come when I can get my hands on some family albums. :)

Let's catch up: part two

The Beginning of the End (of school)

School has been insane this summer.

Insane.

Perhaps my thoughts of taking three classes and it being a breeze were a bit far-fetched. While I am incredibly thankful to be on the other side of it on the downhill slide to graduation, I can't help but be a bit concerned that something like school could throw me like it did.

It was all I could think about, talk about, worry about. It was a season of attempting to simply continue breathing. And it all revolved around school. Library school. How is that real?

On this side, though, there is this giant exhale of relief. Because after a summer which was robbed of all things fun and stuffed to the seams with papers and research and crazy ridiculous expectations, I can still see myself as a librarian.

I see it.

Cardigans and all.

I see the impact I can have. I see the enjoyment in the day to day. I see the students and faculty and community I can affect.

And honestly, that is just huge. It is giant that I am more than halfway done with something I never anticipated starting and I remain eager for the end result.

Because fear has whispered in my ear that this was all for naught. That I couldn't make it through these classes. And that even if I did, I wouldn't really want what was behind door number two.

Fear has slithered its way through every inch of my thoughts and attempted with all its scaly force to lead my heart to doubt.

But my heart is still in it. My excitement is still brimming. And while I know it will fade at times, today I am thankful that it continues to be present. Sitting beside me. Urging me forward. Whispering a tiny bit louder than my fear. That this is real. And it is good. And not to quit.

Library school. Whoowee. Who knew? Did I mention I only have 2 and a half more semesters to go?

This is the beginning of the end (of school). And that is so good.

My current class has me running to the public library each week for really fun books.
 It is seriously fun.  

What if this is my last year?

The above realization brings with it yet another change rushing toward me all too quickly...the end of my time in the classroom. At least as the formal teacher.

The fact that the future does not open itself wide for us to peer in and figure it all out is more than I can handle sometimes.

I love to teach, y'all. I just do. It is in me to teach. I ain't in it for the summer vacation or millions (hyperbole) of holidays.

I love it.

I love the thrill of sharing literature I love day in and day out with my students. I love seeing their minds whirl with new information. I love figuring out who they are during their 7th grade year and allowing them to see me for who I am. I love that I get to laugh and play and enjoy them each day.

I love it.

So the idea that I won't have all of those things just like that for much longer is hard. It's a whole lot of hard. Because I love what I do. And I really feel like at this point in my career, I am somewhat good at it.

But things are a changin. Have you heard?

Soon my day-to-day will look very different. Students will still be a part of that. But not like today. Because today I corrected and encouraged and laughed and greeted and directed and bartered and danced and played and clapped and read and I might have even sang a little. And it was good.

But my future looks a little different. And I am beyond excited for so many pieces of what that day-to-day will look like. But today (and many days since I have entertained the thought of starting this library thing) I am smacked in the face with an urgency to soak up every moment. Every opportunity. Every breath with my students. Because those breaths (at least the kind I have been taking for the past 7 years) are limited in number. They will not always be.

And some days I feel like I am gasping to capture them all. Because I already ache for these days. I already miss them. It's strange, really.

And I wish I had had this perspective since day one. Because it has changed me. It has changed the way I handle things. It has changed the way I talk about school. It has changed the way I see those students who drive me bananas. It just has.

So I guess as I gasp for breath in these final moments, however many I may have, I'll be thankful too. For renewed perspective and for the chance to play a part while I am still there. In B-209. Teaching my little heart out. Because change is good and I am sure of where the Lord has pushed me. He has been ever faithful and constant in his proddings.

But now is good too. And I just really don't want to miss a moment.

My little B-209

Let's catch up: part one

So, it's been a bit.

Over a month for sure.

And I have thought about writing every day of that time. But quite honestly this summer has stumped me. Left me a tad bit speechless.

It was a rough one. (Probably not so much when viewed from the outside.) Rough in the way that becomes funny. Because your plans mean nothing. Your attempts don't always work.

And so this summer has rocked my little ole world in so many ways.

Things are just a changin'. And I have this inescapable feeling that the close of summer is not the final chapter of changes. Like there is something more to come. And it is quite possibly big and uncomfortable and exciting and a range of other hard and beautiful things.

So let's catch up. And I will attempt to put words to how it has been.

(I have split the catchin' up into three posts on three different days for sake of not having a bazillion word post. Read what you want. Don't read the rest.)

Big Fat See You Later's

Sunday was the day I have been avoiding for weeks. Months even. The day which has brought quick tears at its mere mention due to a jumbled up mixture of excitement and loss.

I said "see you later" to a dear friend. To someone who is a gigantic part of my community. Someone who I honestly have not known for all that long. A couple of years. Yet someone who the Lord has provided as so many things. A reminder to breathe when anxiety knocks at the door. A sweet text in the middle of a crazy day. (Or week. Or month.) A prayer when I just can't muster the strength. And a constant source of laughter and understanding.

She (and her sweet husband) are every weekend friends. They are drop what you are doing and hang out friends. They are "it doesn't matter that I just saw you yesterday, what time are you coming over" friends.

And there just can't be enough said for those kinds of friends.

The kind that see the positive in what is surrounding you while still making sure to listen and validate all your crazy concerns and confusion. The kind that allows you to cry past the point of ugly on their couch without the slightest drop of judgement. The kind that isn't too fearful or careful to speak up when what you have said or done is simply not your best. And the kind that sees down deep and loves you anyway.

And the Lord has been so good in providing us with these friends.

And I know life happens and friends move. It happens all the time. I've said these goodbyes before.

I wish I could say it wasn't painful every time. That I am just all excited for this new journey and not sad at all. Because I know I will see them still and our friendship doesn't cease simply because of a few highways. But it is painful. It just is.

And honestly, I am a little glad for the pain. Because to live in community, true community, is painful at times. Because it is real. It's the real stuff. The hard stuff. The how do we get through this stuff. That is what makes up true community.

And I love my little community of people. Those far and near. Those I get to see and squeeze and sort out life with each week and those I will use technology and letters and road trips and phone calls to hold close.

Because that big fat "see you later" I was avoiding is not the end. It is such a beginning. A moment for movement and growth and a refusal to stand still and remain complacent for the sake of comfort.

And the sweetest part of community, the part that I am clinging to today, is that it walks alongside you. Through all the seasons. Even if it's from a distance. They are there.

Little Teeny Nice To Meet You's

 And then there is this baby. And she is the teeniest (and only) niece I've ever had. And I cannot get enough of her. And It's bad. It's really really bad. She is simply too cute and teeny not to purchase everything cute and teeny to accompany her. She is irresistible and snuggly and just really the best there is when it comes to babies. Sorry. I said it. She wins.

Her entrance into the world was perfectly timed and so very sweet. She was the perfect "nice to meet you" in the midst of some very hard "see you laters".

She doesn't even know it, but she is already bringing peace and the sweetest kind of change into our lives. At just the right time.

It's funny how when you type something like that how real it becomes.

At just the right time.

I have forgotten that here of late.

That at just the right time a baby was born. And at just the right time a Son prepared the way. And at just the right time there is hope and reminders of God's great grace and loving-kindness.

At just the right time.

And while I am the proudest aunt around at my sweet niece's ability to simply be cute, I am also beyond thankful for such a huge and sobering opportunity. To love that little one and encourage her and squeeze her and be family to her. But most importantly that I might have the discernment to be what is needed in her sweet little life

at just the right time.

5 years of wedded bliss: an open letter (of sorts) to my husband

So today marks a moment, Stevie. A big one. 5 years of marriage to you. My love. My best friend. My funniest companion.

But can I just pause in this letter to say something? Something that you may not hear nearly enough. You are so much more than funny. I know that is your easiest label of description. Because lets face it, you most certainly are the funniest person I know.

But you are also the most genuine person I know. I have never seen you be something you are not. There is no pretending with you. I admire that tremendously. No facades. No mask of who you think you should be. Just you. In real life and in real time.

And you are the greatest conversationalist I know. You are incredible at speaking to people and actually caring what they say in return. You aren't looking beyond them for someone else, possibly more important, to talk to. You are invested in creating and maintaining relationship with anyone. From youth at the church to people you meet in passing to anyone in the service industry to coworkers to friends to family. You don't greet and move on. You dive deep. You ask questions. You genuinely care about the response and the life of the person you speak with. And that is not the norm. And I love that about you. It teaches me that sometimes lingering longer matters. That people desire to be heard. And you hear them. And it brings joy to my life simply to watch.

And you are one of the smartest people I know. Your ability to pick things up by simply watching someone else do it. Or by trying it a few times. Or by watching a Youtube video about it. Or by researching everything you can get your hands on about it. It astounds (and frustrates) me. Because my brain does not work that way. I truly believe you could learn anything. And the best part of your ability to learn the way you do is that you are so quick to try and teach me. You desire to share what you have learned and help me (and others) learn the same. For our good.

And more than all of those things you have a heart that loves deeply. You have loved me so well for these 5 years of marriage and 10 years of best friend-dom. You have endured through being my first boyfriend, which I am sure was not easy. You have endured long distance dating and the (seemingly) endless pressure to propose. You have endured many irrational fears and have been gentle in your attempts to soothe them. You have endured long, drawn-out, emotional arguments into the wee hours of the morning (yes, we have those) when all you really want to do is sleep it off. And in it all you have done your best to love. And you have loved me so well.

Because that's who you are. You, Stephen Neal Crumby, are the best man I know. You may not always get attributed with all of those things above, but I know. I have seen it all. And so much more. And I am beyond thankful for all that the Lord has made you to be. And I trust Him to continue to build in you the character of a man after His heart. A man created to encourage and build and strengthen those around him. A man who is wise and discerning. Who is able to lead his family in such a way that the Lord himself is honored.

Because 5 years is big. It is a big moment. But there is so much more to come. And I am reeling with excitement today. For you. For what is to come. For the hand of the Lord in our 5 years.

And despite all my fears, I hope you know I would adventure with you anywhere. Because you are so much more than funny.

You are my husband.

My trustworthy companion.

And I couldn't be more proud to claim you.

-Linz(na)

Oh, and pictures. Can't forget those. We have come a long way. Don't you think?

5 years ago today!

SMU Christmas shindig. We love grad school!

First house!

San Diego adventure #2

Chicago adventure

Beard!

Attack of the beard?

We were babies, y'all

Long hair, don't care. Right, Steve?

Just breathe

This is me coming up for a big, deep, calming breath of air. The kind that fills your chest so full it just might explode. And it feels so good. And so desperately needed.

It feels like it's been an eternity since I have breathed this deeply, yet I know it most certainly has not.

And quite honestly, as I take this breath and ponder its need (why it feels so good; why I have been desperate for it for weeks; why tears come too quickly if I think to far into life at this particular moment.), I am embarrassed.

Because my stuff is not big. In fact, it seems really silly and insignificant in the light of so much heartache and tragedy experienced by others. The real stuff.

I am embarrassed that my stuff, small and seemingly unimportant, trips me up so much. Makes me gasp for air and plead for an end to this season.

I am embarrassed that I am not strong enough for the small things. School, due dates, transitions in community and friendships and possible homes. It's not heartbreak. It's small.

But in this breath there is also truth. Because even though my stuff is small, it is real. And it is known. By the God of the Universe. Creator of every good thing. And although I am sure I look like a total mess to Him, falling short everyday because of fear and worry and stress and attempts to control it all myself, He is more than able to cover my small stuff.

And to believe it is too small to approach the throne, is a lie. A lie too easily bought into. A lie which serves only to increase my burden and embarrassment.

And so this breath seems to be serving not simply as a pause in the midst of a stressful season, although for that I am thankful. It is not simply a moment to escape the fear of getting it all done or of approaching the unknown.

This breath is a reminder of a God who cares about my small stuff. Who covers fear and provides enough for each day. Each moment. Each breath. Far better than what I have been living.

So, I am going to do just that. Breathe. In and out. Time and again. And remember the vast and unfailing and beautiful and full love of God. Even in the midst of my stuff, small and all. And let it be enough for this day.

Update #2

Wedding Season:

Fun at the Nally reception

Pre-wedding pic

Sweet bridesmaids

Speech!!!!

The Bakers!!
I adore this pic my photographer husband took.

The season is upon us. That is for sure. Just this month we have been able to be a part of two different life-long friends' weddings. Both weddings have been out of town, which honestly has been both complex (in getting ready and in the right spot at the right time with all the right accessories and speeches and dresses and shoes) and an adventure. I love traveling with my husband. So the request to hop on a plane (albeit a tiny one both trips) and jet off to another city (even a humid one) with my boo is not a difficult one for me to accept with excitement.

AND it has been in the name of marriage. And godly marriage at that.

Two of the sweetest, most genuine of friends are now seeking to love as Christ does in their marriage. Even when it is hard. And they will find out it most certainly is. Even when it requires laying down their desires and needs for their spouses'. And if they do it right, they will daily. Even when jobs are lost or babies are sick or aggravation comes quickly and tears can't be held in. They will love. I know they will.

And I remember the promise I have made. To do all of those things. And to love my Stevie well. And I thank God for the opportunity to do so. And the grace to cover all the times when I don't. And always the picture of Christ and His deep and abiding and transparent love for us.

Summer Reading:

OMG. Summer is my time, y'all. I can READ in the summer. I can finish a book in a normal span of time in the summer. So, I have been. (Possibly more than I should considering I am taking THREE masters classes this session.)

My goal is a book a week (alternating between fiction and non) and so far I am doing pretty well. I will admit to being slightly behind due to travel and massive deadlines in school, but I am persevering and attempting to remind myself that this is NOT about rigid deadlines. Instead I am fixing my attention on learning and relaxing when time allows.

So here they are. The beginnings of my summer reads. Some already complete and others ready to be opened wide and munched on slowly or gobbled up in a single sitting. And I cannot wait.

Fiction and Non-Fiction stacks of summer reads

Oh. And recommendations are fully welcome. So bring on your favorite summer reads. I welcome all in these stacks.

School:

Blah. School is beyond hard overwhelming currently. Taking three classes is a good thing. I know it is. It is the only way to stay on track for graduation. But it ain't easy. And it is most certainly time consuming.

So studying and chats and reading (lots and lots of reading) and paper-writing and organizing and revising and citing take up most of my days. Not the most fun, but certainly the season we are in.

Luckily the Lord's timing is perfect. And I get to experience this season alongside Steve, who let's be honest has it way harder than I do. And Lord help me, he is ALWAYS positive about his school work. I am quick to whine and complain and wallow in how overwhelmed I am with deadlines.

And he just doesn't.

He simply goes to work (an hour--at least--each way) and does his business thing before heading either to school for class or home to study. He stays up late EVERY night only to wake up early EVERY morning. And he doesn't complain. It absolutely blows me away.

And I can just see the example the Lord has set before me in my husband and in his Word. To work. With a cheerful spirit. And integrity of heart. And without grumbling. Because work is good. We are made for work. And boy is my husband a delight to watch in this. And to learn from. God is good. Marriage is good. Work is good. And I am learning to savor each one in these not-so-hot (hallelujah!) summer days.

Marriage:

Trust. I am sitting fully in what it means and looks like to do just that right now.

Relinquishing the urge to control and force and push and manipulate. To choose to trust instead. It is both terrifying and freeing all at once. Terrifying not because Steve is not trustworthy, he most certainly is. Terrifying because I am forfeiting my need to always assume control. Terrifying to let someone else grab hold of the reigns of decision-making and guide us into foreign land.

As always in matters of the Lord's shaping and transforming, there is freedom to be had in opening my clenched fists. In allowing my husband to grab hold and do what he made a covenant five years ago to do.

Lead.

Because he values my opinions and hears my concerns and seeks wise counsel and goes the extra mile to make informed and trustworthy decisions. And he feels so respected when allowed the opportunity to do so.

It is so interesting to see how the Lord sheds light on our dark places when we ask. This is one of mine and I am humbled by what I see when I take a step back. The wife I am called to be and the marriage I am called to have is so much more than I have allowed.

So, break these bones of stubbornness. And chip away at the control I crave and hold tight. Provide opportunity to trust. For You are good. And You have provided me a trustworthy mate.

words of life

nagging: to find fault or complain in an irritating, wearisome, or relentless manner

And so it is.

My first inclination in a moment of discord or division.

To nag. To wear my opponent out with my reasoning.

And can I confess how absolutely positively excellent at it I am. I have honed this particular skill. Dedicated precious time into forming my all-too-important speech into a sharp and piercing and altogether aggravating weapon.

And sadly, despite (almost) 5 years of marriage to my very best friend and God-given boo, he is the recipient of such a gift. Quite often, if I am being honest. As if I am his parent instead of his partner.

And I know that I do it. And I hate that I do it.

But time and time again, it is my go-to for resolving whatever difference of opinion or idea we are having. I nag. Until (usually) he goes quiet and raises the white flag and gives in to my way.

And it isn't fair. And it isn't love. And it is most certainly not a godly portrait of a wife.

But it is real. It is there. And it is something I am warring to relinquish. Every stinkin day. For things much greater and more beautiful and uplifting and life-giving and loving and Gospel-driven than my go-to.

And there is hope. Always there is hope. Because on my own, I fail and falter and can't get it right. I am like Paul when he cries out that he knows what he should do and finds himself unable to do it. In himself. And I too have tried fixing this issue myself. I have worked to improve my words and bury my way in exchange for happier moments.

But I fail. I always end up right back where I began with all that I have hidden and buried coming to the surface with sharp and prickly words. That scratch and nick and wound the softest and most sacred places. Places when scarred, remain that way. Even after apologies are made and forgiveness granted.

But the hope of sanctification and transformation and righteous change is in the Lord. And He is faithful. And He is victorious. And He is patient. And He KNOWS our humanity.

And there is this sweet and overwhelming anticipation for the sanctification that is to come in my speech and spirit and habits and "go-to's" and on and on. There is hope.

So, I am praying. For words of life instead of death. For the inclination to love as Christ does with my speech. To avoid stubbornness and harshness to get my way and instead, in light of our most loving Savior, invite sanctification and purity into my prickly moments to love as He has loved.

dear change, who invited you?

Is it just me, or does time alone in the car provide for awakened perspective?

Confession: I am a car talker.

I talk to myself. I talk to God. I talk to imaginary people whom I need to have hard or important conversation with (because let's be honest...practicing hard conversation makes the actual conversation much easier). I use time in the car to dig into the depths of my heart and evaluate the reality of my current state. 

And I probably look like a fool to anyone driving around me. 

So, yesterday as I drove to a sweet friend's home, I worked my way through all the change currently surrounding me. And there is a lot. 

From:

friends moving out of state (and those who already have) 

to new babies promising to make their arrival in the fall 

to friends moving into their first home 

to job change that seemingly lurks around the bend 

And it is all good. But it is all change.

And I am not sentimental. Or at least in the way of things. 

But memories. That is another story. Memories are something I hold close and pray I never lose.

And so I have been letting memories wash over me and remind me of the vast and unmistakable goodness of God. That He truly has guided my steps. Toward people and circumstance to love and laugh and welcome and mourn and learn and a million other things. I am reminded that seasons, however long, are given with purpose. And boy is this current season changin'.

So with all my might, I am clinging to memories. Not because I wish they would always be and never change. But because I don't dare forget where the Lord has been and how He has moved. 

And honestly, that, in itself, is evidence of the work the Lord is doing today in the midst of my struggle. My fear. My doubt. Because change is becoming way less scary and far more beautiful (and exciting). And that, dear friends, is only because of the confidence that comes with seeing how the Lord has "established my steps" through each season of life. That His hand is present. And His hand is good.

I have started praying through a collection of Puritan prayers from a book called The Valley of the Vision. This one seems fitting this week. Pray with me?

Kept by God

Jehovah God, 

Thou creator, upholder, proprietor of all things,

I cannot escape from thy presence or control,

nor do I desire to do so.

My privilege is to be under the agency of omnipotence,

righteousness, wisdom, patience, mercy, grace.

Thou art love with more than parental affection;

I admire thy heart, adore thy wisdom,

stand in awe of thy power, abase myself before thy purity.

It is the discovery of thy goodness alone that can

banish my fear,

allure me into thy presence,

help me to bewail and confess my sins.

When I review my past guilt

and am conscious of my present unworthiness

I tremble to come to thee,

I whose foundation is in the dust,

I who have condemned thy goodness,

defied thy power,

trampled upon thy love,

rendered myself worthy of eternal death.

But my recovery cannot spring from any cause in me,

I can destroy but cannot save myself.

Yet thou hast laid help on One that is mighty,

for there is mercy with thee,

and exceeding riches in thy kindness through Jesus.

May I always feel my need of him.

Let thy restored joy be my strength;

May it keep me from lusting after the world,

bear up heart and mind in loss of comforts,

enliven me in the valley of death,

work in me the image of the heavenly,

and give me to enjoy the first fruits of spirituality,

such as angels and departed saints know.

Update #1

I feel as though documenting life from year to year as a timeline of sorts detailing our family's movements and choices and the Lord's victories will prove incredibly sweet. So, I hope to be better about setting aside time each week to write a recap (mainly for us and future remembrance of where we have been) alongside the more revealing and raw posts I have done thus far, those where my heart is "on the line"-quite literally-and vulnerability is the name of the game.

Not the most interesting for anyone else, but pictures and memories for us. And that is good.

So, update #1 goes a little like this...

BUILDING IN TIME

These days are a whirlwind of school, work, meetings, bible studies, hangouts, and all around busyness. A part of me hates that. Hates even making that list. Hates that we have scrounge up quality time for each other. And family. And for rest. And if I am being honest, time for the Lord. I keep telling myself this is a season. A season where we are both in school and working full-time and trying to stay connected at church and to friends and all the people we love and trying to maintain a house and not be "those neighbors" and trying to build quality relationships and trying to stay grounded in the faith and trying to serve where we can and the list goes on.

but

In all the busyness there is one thing we have held dear. Time together. Date nights out of the house. Filled to the brim with deeper (sometimes hard) conversation, exposing dreams, plenty of laughter (thanks to the hilarious Stevie), making of plans, re-discussing the budget (this seems to happen a lot), and just sweet time. I am beyond thankful that almost 5 years (really more like 10) in that we still enjoy being with each other. That we don't need other people around to have fun or find comfort. That it isn't awkward or bland. Seriously, what a blessing.

Sweet double date at Dave and Busters

Valentines date with the hubs
He planned the whole thing and it was so special

Date night at Velvet Taco in FW

FRIENDSHIP:

If there is anything I LOVE about this stage of life, it is time with friends. And what sweet friendships we have. I have felt burdened here of late with the purpose of true community (longer post to come) and I am thankful for a group of people to live the real life everyday happenings alongside.

First Ranger's game of the season!

Pals for life

Sweet Miriam is getting married

SWEET WALDOBEAR:

Oh, my heart. Sweet fluffy ball of destruction cuddle. He is almost two, y'all. And I know. I know. I am not supposed to compare him to having a child. I get it. BUT he is the closest thing I have to one currently. So, as a momma to a sweet, stubborn, feisty, chew on my shoes to get my attention, wants to play ALL THE TIME, cuddly beyond belief, happy to see me everyday when I get home, make my heart melt with his eyes pup, I must say...parenting is hard. And awesome. And the Lord has softened my heart through this sweet little creature to a little bit of mothering spirit that I wasn't sure was there. Weird how much we love that guy. And I am thankful. And tired (and excited) already for actual parenting to come. (That was not an announcement. Do not ask me when I am going to bear children. It ain't now. *said in the sweetest of voices*)

SCHOOL, SCHOOL, AND MORE SCHOOL:

Can I just say that I never in my post-college life--a whopping 6 years--would have EVER thought I would be back in school. Doing homework. Taking quizzes. Working on group projects. Preparing to take yet another certification exam and walk another graduation stage. But here I am almost a full year in. Here we are. In school. And LOVING it.

Turns out we love to learn. It's so weird. And quite encouraging that both Steve and I are not just showing up (well, not me so much as my program is online), but are actually enjoying what we study. Praise God for plans we could have NEVER foreseen, but in which we find pleasure and confidence and excitement for what is to come.

I will say the time commitment of school is becoming a little wearing (mostly the time Steve is away from home--as school is 45 minutes away--or studying for classes or meeting with his groups and on and on), but frustration seems to turn to overwhelming thankfulness when I think of how far we have come from the beginning of this process 4 years ago. The faithfulness of the Lord is astounding. I am so surprised by it each time, which is such a portrait of my weakness and humanity because I know in my depths that His promises are true. So, I will remind myself this day to soak in this time of growth and reliance on the Lord's hand in our current careers and those to come. May He be glorified in this journey.

CHANGE OF HEART:

Oh, the goodness of the Lord to gift men and women to study the Word and shed light and a different perspective for others to read. Some of the studies and books I have read since the beginning of this year have wrecked me in the most welcome and beautiful of ways.

Seven: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess

by: Jen Hatmaker

This study has been more than interesting in that it is IN YOUR FACE and completely counter-cultural and a wee bit controversial (or so I have been told). Time and time again in this study, I have not been able to escape the change in perspective toward everyday living and the people of the world I continue to be pushed toward. Almost a complete shift. This study lit a fire. A fire I had never even considered. A fire for people and simplicity and a higher perspective in the everyday and a change in priority and a wrecking of habits-bad ones, pointless ones, and beyond. And I LOVED it. And I NEEDED it.

Now, I know not everyone has loved it or even agrees with her choice of words and "fasts". And that is ok. Because honestly, in the end it wasn't about Jen Hatmaker or her in-your-face approach (although I personally think our culture of Christ followers need a little of that). It was about generosity. And paring down what distracts for that which serves the purposes of God. And being a part of building THE Kingdom instead of my own. And seeking out opportunity to serve. And gosh, I am excited for all of it! For a renewing of priority and a fire to walk in purpose.

These daily studies have been sweet. I must say I was doubtful when I found them, but was looking for a study through Lent and found depth and challenge from both of these. These resources are completely free and easier than easy to use. If you are needing something to challenge and encourage you daily, try it out. I love that women across the nation are studying together and encouraging one another to "live a life worthy of the calling we have received".

HOME IS WHERE THE WORK IS:

Here is a simple equation I now understand after 4 years of home ownership:

more events hosted at your home = only way home renovations and projects are accomplished  

Easy enough, right? Not really, but events at our house have accounted for almost every project completed thus far. I guess some people are more on top of it than us and use their weekends and evenings to actually be productive around the house, but that doesn't seem to happen at 3252 Serpis. We enjoy relaxing a wee bit more than manual labor, so being bums is typically what we choose. 

All that said, 4 years into living at our house and many many pinned pictures and blog posts displaying my dream rooms on Pinterest, I am beginning to finally understand that it is ok that our house is not finished. Not even close. Furniture still needs to be bought. Walls are still without the perfect piece or color. A kitchen which screams that it does not come close to the dream. An upstairs which acts as a storage unit of sorts instead of rooms of purpose or meaning.

One perspective shift from Seven of which I am clinging is what a home can be. Not a place to simply display the ability to decorate or spend money or show off our aptitude for Pinterest or creativity, but a place which when opened out of love for Christ can be something quite powerful. A place of kindness for family and neighbors and spare bedrooms for those without one and acceptance for all and deep conversations about life and struggle and open arms and generosity and laughter. What a warm place a home can be. What a blessing it can be for home owner and guest  friend alike to experience this kind of home. A Jesus home. 

So, that is becoming my aim. Less of me and more of Christ's hospitality in my home. Less anxiety about everything being just so, so people can extol my abilities, and more of Christ's love for people. Less of my desire to spend spend spend and fill fill fill and more of Christ's generosity to give and bless and give some more. Opportunity is quite literally residing on my couch, in my kitchen, and at my dining room table. My prayer is that we would grab hold and hang on and not miss out on the blessing of having a home.

THE FRESH 20 AND OTHER FOOD NEWS:

Is buying wholesome food frustrating to anyone else? No? Just me? Well, I am trying, y'all. I really am. I desire for our family to choose things which nourish and sustain our bodies in order to live the lives set before us. I have watched documentaries and attempted to research and chosen ingredients with the greatest of care at the market. BUT it is difficult (and expensive). Because it is different from all that I have known. AND THERE IS SO MUCH INFORMATION OUT THERE. No one agrees on what is best. One person says one choice of diet is the best and someone else completely contradicts it. And they BOTH have research to back it up.

I ain't smart enough for this (says the English teacher).

So.

My recent decision was to not remain in frustration and accomplish nothing for my family's health, but to do what I can. To buy what I know to be nutrient-rich and to make the best choices I can when it comes to food.

First Fresh 20 Meal: Roasted chicken sausage with
parsnips (my new fav), onions, and bell peppers
and seasoned green beans (for Steve)

And along came The Fresh 20. Nothing special. No anxiety because of complex recipes or ingredients. Just a weekly meal plan comprised of 20 whole ingredients that I actually know the name of.

There it is. The best I can do. And honestly, it has been pretty enjoyable. And EASY. It even comes with a weekly shopping list, prep guide, and estimated cost. Doesn't get better than that.

And last, but most certainly not least...
THE BATTLE:

Yippee! Time to be a bit nerdy. I was invited by my school's librarian (and mentor for my master's program) to attend our district's Battle of the Books this year. Sounds intense right? It SO was!!

We took 5 students (3 of which were mine!) to compete in a competition where they answered questions about 10 books designated by the district, which they read in advance. The students sat in tables and would decide (in the quietest voices I have ever heard in a competition) which of the ten books were the answer to each question before their time ran out. There were multiple rounds. And strategizing. And even tie breakers.

It was wonderful. Critical thinking and debating at its best. Oh, my teacher/librarian heart was so full.