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.
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...
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
(This first part is written by ben). So I've started. The Decemberists are rounding the needle and in the room behind me as i write this, my very first blog. It's possible that it will be my final entry as my contemporary seems to be F. Scott--thanks a lot Jay.
Now onto our story: Janell and I met on a warm early summer's day, as teenagers, in the back of a stuffy chapel at camp. Our lives in full swing, we lived for each moment. Making experiences last and amplifying all our senses. The summers seemed hotter then, the food was better (or worse), the nights were longer and each movie was more formative. Along with all of this, our relationships seemed much more meaningful.
As you know, (or not) we married after 5 or so blissful and arduous years of dating. Soon after I worked to provide at many-a-terrible job where the only value was the dollar made and the friends found. As Janell finished her degree at Multnomah Bible College we began to ask the age-old question, "...
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