Once a blog about a house, and still is.
Finding grace in unlikely places.
Processing current culture through the lense of the Gospel of Jesus.
Always balancing the tightrope of caring about this world, and not caring too much.
Waiting game.
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Signed enough papers to fill a moose's stomach. Gotten our inspection, soil test, and sewer scope. Now, it is in the banks hands.
Yep, that time of year, when we go out an buy a sad dead tree and stab it into a wobbly metal stand and wrap lights and shiny stuff from it. We got two, actually. Remember that book "Indian In The Cupboard"? Same idea, but with a nubian nativity. So, bring an ornament for the tree(s) next time you stop by. Make it personal, make sure it has your name written on it somehow, so we can remember it for always. Musical choices: n*sync, Nat king Cole, Louis Armstrong, BB king, et al. (Mostly the latter. Ben and I threw up on the computer after the third boy band Christmas craptacular song) posted from Bloggeroid
For at least this past year, I've been wanting to try and put into words the beginning of a dream and how that dream became a reality. I'm not the best writer and I know that shouldn't matter but I always let it get in the way of me writing anything. The other struggle for me is that I have a lot of input in my life and not a lot of output. I love gathering information, thoughts, pictures, stories of purpose. But the thing is this, they're starting to get all muddled and I'm forgetting what their purpose was in the first place. And I really don't want to forget. I don't want to forget what my and my husband's dream was and how suddenly we've found ourselves doing a little bit of what we were made to do. So with this written piece of transition, this blog will take on a different purpose. Our house now is serving as a space for sabbaticals and rest for people involved in the never-ending work of the Gospel. These are people who have been sent out b...
I'm thankful for women like Sara Kay Mooney who share poetry that helps keep us alive. I never read much poetry up until maybe a couple years ago. That's when I needed something that wasn't neat and orderly because a Pandemic will teach you that. I liked the otherness of it...the freedom of words that could mean this or that but then suddenly, you know exactly what it means. In her recent weekly Lent email, where she writes a short reflection and shares a poem, Sara brings up the question, "Do I want to be right or do I want to be healed?" I suppose this is something I'll always battle. I too, have lived and walked in too many circles where it's just easier to pull that fruit right off the tree and say to God, "Look, I can help you out just a little. I have great ideas! I don't know if You know this but, those people over there have really let themselves go and they're being such horrible witnesses for You!" But what happens when just ...
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