Finding a Family

       Have you ever had one of those days that is so full of peace and joy and happiness that you just want to savor it like a good piece of chocolate or hit replay like you do that song you love? Well, folks, I had one of those days yesterday.
       Hank and I got ready for church- read, ate, dressed and got in the car. We were headed to visit a new church to see if it would be 'home' but as usual we were running a bit late and this always makes me stress out- even if I am to blame for the tardiness.
      We got to the high school where the church was meeting and walked in to the sound of Hillsong worship and folks singing. The band was made up of an older playing bass- who looked like he'd climb astride a motorcycle any minute, four ladies singing, a young guy on the guitar, and a middle aged man playing drums. Last week we both agreed that the service we went to felt a bit like a performance, but there was no performing here.
     After the service, at least 8 people came up and said hi and actually talked to us. I am fairly accustomed to having people shake my hand but usually that's all that happens. These people actually wanted to get to know us! What in the world?!
     So we talked and people were really excited to see us and to welcome us to the neighborhood. We walked out under the sign that said "You are now entering your mission field," that someone had hung above the door. I liked that being the last image of church. A reminder that it doesn't stop there.

Some of the people at the church told us about a city-wide worship gathering that evening so we decided to go.
       That evening we showed up at the church down the road that was hosting it. I had suggested maybe we skip because we went grocery shopping and were going to be late. But Hank said no, we were going and I am so glad we did.
      We walked in, both feeling a sense of expectancy. In all my years being a believer and running with the church crowd, I had never heard of churches coming together for worship- and they do it four times a year! Yet, as I walked in, I realized I had been longing for this.
      There were people from every different background you could imagine. There were people from the Spanish church, from the charismatic church, from the non-denomitional church (does anyone else find irony in the fact that Non-denom is a denomination?). The black gospel church was well represented. There were sweet little girls twirling around with flags in the aisle next to me. It was INCREDIBLE!

        The seats were nearly all full but we finally found one. It didn't really matter though because we never sat down. We were all up on our feet in full out praise for the entire hour and a half to two hours.
        When I say the Spirit moved, he MOVED. It was so incredible to see people in this city I am just beginning to call home, call on the same Lord and praise his name with passion! On the stage, the incredible beauty and diversity of His people was seen. There was even an older "hippy-lady" singing on stage with a fake sword she would pull out and wave around.
         The sword reminded me of this: we were doing battle. Our singing was releasing angels to fight for His Glory. Our singing was breaking down walls and letting him further in. It wasn't the words or how good they sounded or even the emotional high we got. It was the fact that we were willing to stop everything and be romanced. We were there to lavish love upon our Sweet Jesus and feel him lavish love on us.

I can still remember the first time Hank and I got caught up in eachother's eyes. We just sat there, right in the middle of the Bucket List, and stared at eachother. It wasn't awkward- it was awesome. Those eyes were windows to his soul and I was speechless at the affection I saw in them for me. And that is how I felt last night. It was like all I wanted to do was sit there and stare into His eyes- the eyes of a Savior who only knows love towards me, towards us. He only has good things planned, beautiful things. My Jesus is the creator of beautiful, afterall.
          So many times, when I am at church, I am so focused on singing right or looking the right way when I worship. I worry about what others think so much. At some point last night, I realized it was enough just to enjoy the process. It IS enough to just sing and smile and be filled with joy. The rest doesn't really matter. There is no magic formula. He LONGS to be with me, to enjoy me, to fix his gaze upon me and for me to do the same. It's that incredible heart-connection you can't put in words.
     And it is so good.

So today I am basking in the beauty of a God who waits for me, at the inner court, just to spend some time listening to me and talking. And I know, even as I write this, that he is smiling. Because he loves me, he loves you, and he just loves watching us be who he created us to be.


    

Procrastination and Caramel Cake

Ever since I can remember, I've had a very short attention span. We're talking a 5 year old's, can't focus for 5 minutes attention span. This rule applies to tasks such as math, cleaning, organizing, and/or any item that needs to be done.

     Warning #1: this short attention span is further shortened with large amounts of caffeine and a house full of things I don't want to do.
     Warning #2: I have had a cup of coffee and chai tea today and just spent approximately five minutes organizing the office, followed by two minutes working on addressing notes and now I am here.

       I am not alone in this. In fact, I quickly discovered in college that there were any number of people who would join me in my "needed" trips to get coffee in the middle of afternoon study sessions, or who would take a LONG study break and talk to me in the library. It is a small wonder that I graduated with my ratio of breaks to study sessions being approximately 4 to 1.

     Unfortunately this habit permeates nearly all areas of life. Often I walk around my house only to find at least one unfinished project in each room. I have oodles of unfinished art projects including painting, knitting, crocheting, sewing and even needlepoint! In my art box there are at least 3 sketched on but never painted canvases. Who knows what masterpieces I could create if I would but focus!?


      There is one area of my life where this rule does not apply. I have rarely ever started to cook something and not finished it. Perhaps this is because I learned to cook from my Oma and my mom -two extremely motivated and focused women- or perhaps because the prize of eating is always worth it. I do love to eat...

      I am one of those who can browse a cookbook for hours. Literally. I LOVE planning meals. I love baking. I even have the patience to let bread rise for 3 1/2 hours simply because the smell is almost better that the taste once it is baking in the oven.

      Last year, when I was cold or bored (or both) in Northeast China where I taught English, I would bake. It was my go-to mechanism and always made me feel a bit more at home.

      I even bought a pumpkin and figured out how to make pumpkin puree so I could make fall goodies like pumpkin challah, pumpkin chocolate chip cookies, and pumpkin pie with whipped cream.

     It was pure delight smelling that goodness coming from my little bitty oven.

      One time Hank and I, on one of our skype dates, decided to cook something and eat it at the same time on skype. It wasn't quite what we pictured because the gas to my stove ran out right as I was going to make banana pancakes. I made them in the oven instead and we ate pancakes and stared googly eyed at each other over the internet.

     I learned last year that cooking was a good way to get to know students. I had students over a few times and they would 'teach' me how to make their local food. Most often I ended up getting them what they needed while they made it, but it was so fun afterwards getting to eat and talk and laugh together.

    Some of my Chinese comrades came over one time and we made food from our homes- comfort food. One of them made Coca Cola chicken wings (delicious!) and another made spicy sichuan food while I attempted to make tacos. It was fun even if the tacos weren't quite authentic.

        I have always believed that there is a certain power to food. It brings people together, makes em' feel like one big happy family. At our family reunion you will always find my sisters and I huddled around the snack table or standing around in the kitchen blocking traffic and talking with people. Its just a good place to be.

    Today Hank suggested that I take a break from job applications and do an art project. I love art but right now I am in a baking mood.
Watch out!

      I started reading the help a few days ago and now I MUST have a piece of caramel cake. I've never tried one but it sounds incredible so I just found this recipe on this blog and Hank has already been texted to ask if he will go to the store for me... what a sweetie.

Do two people really need a massive and decadently delish caramel cake?
   That's besides the point. Come on dahling! Live a little!!

So here goes- gonna see how it turns out. I'll let you know!
   

29-38 Thankful hearts

I am ever so slowly working up to 1000 gifts, 1000 things I am so thankful for.

29. Two blissful days as Hank works from home and I look for a job. I love quality time!

30. Early morning blend from H.E.B.

31. Getting to shop at H.E.B. and getting to see my hubby's extreme excitement over having his favorite store again.

32. The fact that Hank loves cooking as much as I and has now started calling Jamie Oliver his new hero.

33. Yummy Cinnamon Swirl Raisin bread straight from the oven- one for us and one for the landlords. Haven't made it since college and I am soo excited to bite into a warm buttery slice!

34. Letting myself decorate how I want to, not how others like it or how the magazines have it.

35. A new water heater, a new stove, a new furnace all in a week. So thankful we found this rent house and even more thankful for good landlords!

36. Short but sweet conversations with sisters in college. I love listening to Hank talk to them, asking questions and giving them a hard time as if he grew up with them.

37. A saddle in my living room (a gift from my grandparents back when they had horses) and a Texas themed bathroom make for a very happy hubby.

38. Finally getting LONG procrastinated projects done.

Change for a dollar?

Wow. After working with lots of homeless people at the thrift store in Longview, I had become kind of desensitized and even judgmental after seeing how many stay 'in the system.' It is so good to be reminded that I never know the full story until I take time to hear it from them.

Please watch this video and be reminded with me that each person, no matter their appearance, is an image bearer of the one true God and I guess its not up to me to decide who is worthy of my change.
Change for a Dollar?

He makes a good nurse-man

This may sound like a bit of a whiney blog but I don't mean to whine. Trust me- when I am purposely whining, you will know. I can be really really good at whining.

    This past month Hank and I rejoiced over the fact that I didn't get a single migraine all month. I had stopped taking the medicine I was using because it didn't totally eliminate them. But last night we went for a walk and I could feel a migraine coming on as we walked up to the house. (hmm... Perhaps I am allergic to exercise?)
     I laid down at 7, got up to eat an apple at 8 and then Hank and I went to bed. It was a rough night and I kept waking Hank up with my groaning as I writhed in pain (only a slight exaggeration).  The pain made me nauseated so I would lean over the side of the bed and each time he would reach over and hold my hair.  As he offered me water or asked how I was doing or held me hair, somehow his help made me feel better in the midst of it all.

Sometimes love looks like this. When I thanked him this morning, he reminded me that it was all part of the vows. For better or worse, sickness and in health.

ps. Many thanks to Sarah at emergingmummy.com for showing me the value of writing out what love looks like in our marriage.

I get flirted with in Spanish and we talk spiritual over fajitas

Last night Hank and I splurged on Mexican food at a little restaurant in town.

We came home from running errands and our landlord was working on our dripping faucet and the water heater and furnace that wouldn't work. Our sweet landlord is 88 years old and reminds me so much of my Opa. He knows how to do everything and hates to pay someone to do something he knows how to do. He isn't in great shape and he can't hear very well but he is sharp as a tack and can teach you how to fix anything.

    Well he and his daughter worked on our repairs and eventually called a plumber after they exhausted all their ideas.

The plumber came, a nice Mexican guy. He lit the water heater and proceeded to fix our leaky bathtub as our landlord's daughter perched on the side of the tub with a flashlight and the rest of us crowded around the door of the bathroom to watch. I learned that our house is over 50 years old. Wow.
    Well, the plumber and I started speaking in Spanish and I learned that he was from Guanajuato, where I have been twice. I asked him if he liked being a plumber and if he liked Rosenberg. Then I asked if he had an esposa- a wife.
    He laughed, said no and then " Tienes una hermana?" Do you have a sister?
  I laughed so hard and promptly told him my sisters were much much younger. I may have emphasized the "mucho."

Hank was yelling talking to our landlord but poked his head into the bathroom to ask him what a good Mexican food place was and he referred us to this restaurant up the street. So it was that we found ourselves dashing out for some grub when the plumber finished at 8pm.

While we were eating the best fajitas I have ever had, Hank remarked that I had been "betheling it up" (in reference to Bethel Church in Redding, CA) since talking to my teammate from China earlier in the week.

Last year I was intoduced to Bethel Church by my dear teammates in China and some of the sermons and music shifted my spiritual paradigm. I learned more about the Holy Spirit, about expecting spiritual breakthrough, about living a life of excellence and worshipping with all that I have.

Since coming back from China and not being surrounded by my teammates, I have settled back into my old mindset. I got my routine but wasn't pressing in for God's fire. "God always sets the sacrifice on fire. Be consumed for him, " as Bill Johnson said. I wasn't offering my whole self- just a couple minutes in the morning and in the evening. I wasn't willing to be consumed. Afterall, being consumed means allowing some of those habits and interests I'm comfortable with to be burned away.

So Hank and I started talking about how we could rekindle that fire.
    Hank learned some of the same things at the same time last year by attending a college group at a church. We were both set a fire but lost some of our focus when I came back and we immediately started planning our wedding.

Its funny how busyness, how the good can rob us of the best by stealing our focus.

Hank asked how we could renew that passion. He suggested praying bigger. That was a huge thing for him last year. He learned to pray BIG prayers and to believe that his prayers meant something, that God heard and answered. We saw that truth many times last year and even recently. Yet we have started praying small, safe, memorized prayers.

We have stopped relying on and speaking out his promises.

Because honestly, his promises don't seem to really be meant for us. How could God have a good and perfect plan for us when I'm stuck in a rut at work, when I'm not feeling particularly loving toward Hank. How can I really believe he listens when I'm not seeing any results?

Hank and I have a calling afterall! We have a bigger purpose and quite frankly- I am not seeing it happening. Perhaps God has forgotten he called me to be a missionary? Perhaps he forgot I am stuck here in Texas when my heart longs for the foreign, the unknown, the adventure of missions.
(Sidenote: PLEASE listen to this message on not missing the process by Eric Johnson
http://www.ibethel.org/sermon-of-the-week )

We talked about simply coming into our time with the Lord with expectation. I tend to be sort of distracted in my quiet times.. My mind wanders to conversations I had the previous day, to the list of things I need to do, to anything but the words in front of me.

So last night we began to pray big prayers and this morning I pledged to at least try to focus. You know what- God began to speak to me like he hasn't in a long time. I started to listen and he began to speak. It was the best quiet time I have had in ages.

He spoke to me. How incredible is that? I was reading the store of Zaccheus (who I relate to simply because he was short) and God began to speak to me about how my life is a testimony. Zaccheaus met Jesus and was astonished and overjoyed that the Lord would call him out.

I guess you don't have to be a shady tax collector to make an about face. To shift your focus to Jesus' face and to be astonished once again by the love and beauty and longing there.





  

Just a Couple of Dreamers

This past year I heard an artist speak on how he worships God simply by creating. He doesn't feel the need to create "christian art" in order to worship God. He simply creates with the skills and passion God gave him and in doing so, in enjoying the process, he worships God. He said something like this, "God is a creator. He is creative. When I am creative I am bearing witness to who he is. I am made in his image and so when I create, I am experiencing part of who he is."

I firmly believe God is a dreamer. Afterall isn't prophecy simply a dream backed up with all the power imaginable to make it happen? And weren't some of the most incredible men and women in the Bible dreamers? Joseph, David, Daniel. Wasn't Esther willing to believe a dream that she could save her people?

So I am believing in dreams. Dreams like these: that Hank and I would remain as in love as we are today forever(Newlyweds for life!), that I will get a good job and one that I am passionate about, that my family is in His hands and we are ever being sifted and purified, that Hank will have favor in his new job, that my sister Julia will one day open a camp for the deaf, that Em would find a job working with animals that fits her to a T, that Whitney and Jered would find a camp or ministry that they can work at as a team and still maintain a strong marriage, that Hank and I will find a good church that will become as much like family as ours in Longview.

I am believing dreams and in the believing there is faith.

We are surrounded

Lately I have become so thankful for our two families. When we married, I knew I was getting a whole new family and one with different quirks, perks and problems. My own has plenty of issues but somehow we love eachother with a deep hearty love and we support eachother in everything.

      When Hank and I moved to Houston for this new job we knew it would mean lots of expenses that would somehow need to be covered. We weren't given a moving stipend and we weren't making a whole lot of money at our old jobs.

     We moved from a fully furnished 450sq. ft house to a non-furnished 1000+ sq. ft rent home. Immediately we were faced with the need to find a whole lot more furniture, a fridge, a washer and dryer and a lawn mower.

    This is when I am thankful for our built-in community, our family and friends that have supported us and loved us way way more than we deserved.

Right off the bat Hank's mom helped us by gifting us with money to buy appliances. My parents had been saving up furniture for us for years and we got our kitchen table, two dressers and even a lawn mower that wasn't being used from them.

   Hank's dad had an older but still in great condition washer and dryer that he "long-term loaned" us and some dear friends gave us a couch, love seat and recliner. When I look around our house I realize just how incredible the Lord is. He said he would provide for all our needs and He did. He used His people- our families and those he put in our lives to amply provide for us. I am still in awe. I am still overwhelmed by the generosity and love represented throughout our house.

    And somehow I feel a certain responsibility. I feel the need to "pay it forward." To look for needs to fill, to give and to support even the wildest dreams. I am learning that the wild dreams are the fun ones. It was wild to pick up and move here, not having any promise of a job, yet this has been the most fun adventure and great for our marriage. We are learning to trust together for His good and perfect plans.

   

And we are making new beginnings

  We are officially moved. Officially out of Longview and into a whole new city down near Houston.

The decision to move was not an easy one but the Lord plainly told me to pray about it and plainly showed me that this was where we needed to be. I tried to push against it but it just felt right. And when we met the people Hank would work for, we felt such peace with fellow journeyers on His path, fellow newlyweds and new friends. God took us off the path of 'good' and put us on his 'great path.' I had a job lined up and Hank was getting lots of flight hours but he clearly showed us he had something even better.

    Oh WHAT JOY to see Hank so excited about this new job!!! Here we sit in Starbucks and he is online learning how to fly this fancy new airplane and I am blogging and sipping a dark roast and life is good.

     I am beginning to see too, that the Lord brought us away from a complacency that was beginning to set in where we were. We were going to the same church I attended since the beginning of college and working with the same youth group and while this is a great church and I dearly love those kids, I had stopped working towards breakthrough in my life. I still had my routine of quiet time in the morning and I was still serving but I wasn't being wholly stretched. I had even settled into a routine at my job at the thrift store and while the Lord opening doors to love on my coworkers, I had no passion for the work.

    So here we are. We have been incredibly well provided for in a better home with room to host and colors! I HAVE RED WALLS!!!!! And we have been given all the furniture we could need and for free. Last night we had dinner provided by Hank's aunt and it was his favorite and mine: homemade spaghetti sauce, spaghetti, an awesome salad, garlic bread and strawberry shortcake. She packaged it all up and even brought us some champagne and flowers to welcome us to our new house.
       
           And we are making space for our Jesus in this place. I am praying grace, peace, joy into these very walls. I am asking for His Presence to fill and overflow so that all who enter would literally feel Him.
           We are making space for eachother. Oh I would pack up and move all the time if it meant this sweet uninterupted time with my husband. Being a quality time person, I have so thoroughly enjoyed this past week of no work, no agendas, no place to go. We only had to pack, spend time saying goodbye to dear friends, and Hank spent time studying. I thought I would hate hate HATE packing but it has been blissful. My Love Cup is so full.

     This morning I didn't want to wake up simply because it was a grey overcast morning and so it felt like 6 at 8am. My incredible husband went and shaved, made me a cappucino and then we had our time with the Lord.

    Can't everyday be like this? Joy.
And now we are at Starbucks and he is getting excited about this new joy and we have a whole afternoon of unpacking ahead and I am actually looking forward to organizing everything.