October Reads

This month a theme developed by accident: home decor and style.  I don't mind...it is part of my job, after all, and I'm always on the lookout for fresh inspiration in both the guest house and my own home.

Simple Decorating | Michaels: I didn't care this one for a ton.  It wasn't poorly written, and while there were lots of decent ideas, it just wasn't me.  Points for pretty, colorful pictures and manageable project sizes, though!

Hearts of Fire | Voice of the Martyrs: Obviously this book wasn't part of my theme.  It included the stories of eight women in the underground church (in several different countries) and their testimonies of following Christ.  This is not a fluffy, feel-good read; the high cost of faith rings loud and clear from each page.  One thing I loved was the reminder that God strengthens His children in what He calls them to face.  As I read these accounts of intense persecution and often torture, I saw how He gave these ladies the courage to be bold and cling to the truth.  A worthwhile read, for sure.

City Farmhouse Style | Leggett & Saylor: One of my favorites.  It was all about capturing the cozy, charming feel of farmhouses no matter where you lived or what kind of architecture you were working with.  I wanted to tour all the lovely homes she featured.

Bring the Outdoors In | Powers: The title seemed right up my alley, but I found it uninspiring, impractical, and none of the projects seemed even remotely like things I'd want to try.  Oh, well.  It was a free book.  Easy come, easy go!

Reluctant Entertainer | Coughlin: I've read so many hospitality books this year - some great, some mediocre.  This wasn't my top favorite, but I really enjoyed her section on how to ask good questions and draw guests out in conversations.  I want to be better at that.  I also appreciated her emphasis on the heart of hospitality: it doesn't have to be perfect, just enjoy your guests no matter what.

Homes with Soul | Robinzon: Excellent pictures.  A variety of architectural and design styles were included.  The font was weird - too many different ones mixed together, with the bulk of the text being quite tiny (even for someone with good eyesight).  I also found the content of the text to be super weird, but the pictures made up for it.  Mostly.

Reclaim That | Heeringa: A guide to "upcycling with style", it was filled with mostly vintage-feel pieces and how-to's.  I liked her charming style, her color palate, and her kitchen.  She is very creative in her furniture make-overs as well.  Fun fact: this book was written and published in Australia.  I always love making note of subtle differences in the designs, architecture, and even vocabulary of other English-speaking countries.  The one complaint I have is poor editing; for example, a sentence from one paragraph was sometimes repeated word for word in the paragraph right below it.  Still, an enjoyable read indeed.

Country Style | Örnberg: This book was originally published in Sweden, and the bright, fresh spirit of Scandinavian decor shines through.  Lots of white space and splashes of color.  Cozy and homey with a bit of the unexpected thrown in.  There are detailed how-to's for making many of the projects shown.  Fun read.

Flea Markets Finds | Mead: Disappointingly poor quality photos.  A few fun things here and there, but not terribly inspiring overall.

Magnolia Table | Gaines: Such a fun cookbook!  I love people who write about food and family together, and she does that very well, talking about how she involves her family in meals, which recipes are the kids' favorites, and so on.  Also (a must for me when it comes to cookbooks) there were lots of good pictures - and the recipes themselves looked delicious.

The Beauty of Enough

Perfectionism and performance have been my default for about two decades, but God in His persistent grace has been teaching me another way.

When He declared It is finished, that spoke not only to what needed to happen for my eternal salvation, but also my day-to-day walk with Him.  He has done what needs to be done for a friendship to exist between us.

My impossible standards and everlasting to-do lists add absolutely nothing to that friendship.

There's something so wonderful about coming to the end of the day and saying, Enough.  Even if the to-do list isn't finished, even if projects were left for another day, even if all the evening has held is dinner and its clean-up...that's okay.  I could do more, but I don't have to.  It's enough.

It feels like a novel idea, and yet it's been so deeply refreshing, so much more helpful for keeping my focus where it needs to be - enjoying the Lord instead of trying to impress Him.

If the Almighty God who could have created the universe in a single instant chose instead to take six days for creation and then rest on the seventh, perhaps my living, too, should be paced instead of all frantic and rushed.

I love this freedom, truth that I'm only just beginning to take hold of for my everyday life, though it's been there all along.  I stumble along in it with all the elegance of a child learning to walk - but I'm learning!  He's teaching me, answering this plea to understand His easy yoke, to experience His rest.

He is good and faithful and wholly sufficient.

The Seesaw

Monday morning didn't go the way I planned.  Little things went wrong - hardly moral failures, but simply falling short of my own expectations.  I'd catch myself tense, shoulders drawn up, chest tight, waiting to breathe.  My thoughts kept returning to those fallings-short, guilt rearing its ugly head each time.  It seemed like every sixty seconds, I had to mentally grab myself by the shoulders and shout, "Rachel, stop that!"

Tuesday, the very next day, I was up early.  I'd slept well and had enough time not to feel rushed as I got ready for the day.  I made coffee and even sat down for breakfast (usually I just take bites in between getting ready).  I'd finished my reading for our Thursday small group (and it was only Tuesday!) and was well on my way to finishing my personal reading goal by the end of the year.  I made it to class with enough time to spare.  A sense of satisfaction spread through me as I shifted in my chair.

And just like that, I realized - shocked - that yesterday's guilt had become today's pride.  It was self-focus, all of it.  Do I actually believe God's view of me is based on something as shifting and fickle as my own performance?  Do I?

I pulled my attention back to class, where we were discussing Colossians 2:6-7.  What is the main point Paul is making here, he asked, in light of the whole book?  That Christ was enough.  Complete.  Perfect.

I sat there, tearing up instantly, reminded yet again of how quickly I lose sight of that, how desperately I need grace.  And there it was - there it always is - a steady hand on my wild seesaw of self.

Inhale.  Exhale.  He is enough.

Enough.

Hospitality(ish): Lower-Stress Hosting

Here are some ways I've learned to reduce the stress that can sometimes accompany inviting people over:

Pick mainly tried-and-true recipes.  I've learned not to try a bunch of new dishes when having guests over - maybe one new one, if I'm fairly confident and the event isn't complicated.  That way I don't have to worry or fret over potential flops.

Prioritize tasks.  Know cooking times and start with the dishes that will take longer to finish.  Know what you can involve guests with if you run out of time.  For instance, when I'm having a group over, I make sure to get myself ready (change into appropriate clothes, freshen up, etc.) well before they're supposed to arrive.  I also clean up the bathroom and do any other tidying-up that needs to be done.  If people show up and things aren't ready, I can always ask someone to set the table or toss the salad or slice bread for me, but asking them to clean my bathroom would be a little out of place.

Accept help.  If someone asks, "Can I bring something?", let them!  Too often I think, "I want people to just be able to show up and not have to worry about anything."  I forget that others often enjoy contributing - especially if it's something simple like bringing drinks, dessert, or even a bag of chips. Plus, if I'm not doing all the work myself every time, I'll likely invite people over more often and relax more while they are in my home.

Plan ahead.  Decide on the menu and/or activities, make a shopping list, and try to get the bulk of the shopping and prep done in advance (i.e. not the day of).  Leaving everything till the last minute gives you no margin for mishaps, miscalculations, or the surprise early arrivals.  Margin-less hosting (like margin-less living) is a largely-avoidable stress.

Keep the main focus on welcoming your guests and making them feel at home.  You can prepare the most fabulous meal, but if you're a ball of nerves, your guests won't feel relaxed or comfortable either.  If something goes wrong, don't sweat.  Laugh about it.  Come up with a Plan B.  It'll be okay.

How about you?  What helps you host with less stress and more enthusiasm?

Next to Godliness

"Cleanliness is next to Godliness."

I'm not sure where that phrase originated, but it's been repeated so often through so many generations that some of us have actually started to believe it -

That being clean is the next most important thing after being Godly, or even worse, that being clean is part of being Godly.

We may also believe, for example, that Godliness means being thrifty.

Or that it involves being smart, organized, and healthy.

Or being a natural leader.

Or keeping house well.

Or getting good grades.

Or...fill in the blank.

1 Timothy 6:6 tells us, "Now godliness with contentment is great gain."  Godliness - a character like Christ's - and contentment.

Contentment.  Such an under-rated virtue.  If I'm smart and thrifty and organized, people will notice and perhaps even praise me for it.  But contentment?  It somehow doesn't sound nearly as important as some of those other things.

The Lord has been convicting me the past week or so that instead of pouring all my energy into being the most productive I can possible be, searching for the best deals on things I need to buy, or anything else that will make me look like a got-it-together person, I should be focused first on cultivating contentment.

At the heart of it all, contentment is about being satisfied in Him, rejoicing in what He's given, about choosing thankfulness instead of grumbling.

That's what He wants, and that's how I want to be described.

Hospitality(ish): Teranga

Teranga is a Wolof word meaning a warm welcome, a kind of generous hospitality.  Senegal calls itself Le Pays de la Teranga (The Country of Teranga) -

It's the way people will call you over to Come, eat! if you walk past when they're in the middle of a meal.

It's attaya, tiny glasses of strong tea, made in a unhurried, unceremonional-ceremony.

It's the boutiqier asking about your family, how they're doing.

It's sharing what you have, even if it's so very little.

It's the parties, the celebrations that spill outside your courtyard, across the small cobbled walkway and into the neighbors' courtyards.

It's passing one madd fruit around, everyone scooping a spoonful out and sucking the flesh off the seeds before spitting them out.

It's cold juice for guests, brought into the living room on a tray with glasses.

It's firm handshakes, kisses on both cheeks, warm greetings.

It's food piled on a platter, six or eight people all tucked in around it, the host making sure everyone gets meat from the center.

It's kindness to strangers who are lost or needy in some way.

It's the spirit that says, Come, there's room for you here.  Let's eat together.  Walk together.  Be together.

Of all the things I learned in Senegal, teranga is probably one I love best, what I hope my little mid-West apartment somehow captures in its own way.

Happy(ish) Campers

Friday afternoon, our respective vehicles all packed, we drove over to the campground and got set up.

It was cold and rainy.

It was also Ezra's birthday.  (Four!)

We threw dogs and brats on our camp neighbors' grill and tried to avoid the drips and drizzles.

The mustard was almost empty and Jonah kept stealing chips from my plate.  (I can't fault him for loving them so much, though.  Potato chips are my one weakness.)

After dinner we did cupcakes and presents.  A couple staff families and another couple we all know camped on neighboring sites, so it was a fun little party of sorts.

Even the fire and hot drinks couldn't take the chill off the evening, so as soon as presents were opened I drove back home for more blankets.

The arrangement we have is this: the boys sleep in the camper with Mom and Dad, I sleep in a tent with the girls.  It's nice, because I don't have to bring my own tent or get my own campsite.

But with temperatures dipping into the 30's that night, I knew the "extra" blankets I'd brought wouldn't be enough for us all to stay warm in the tent.

It rained most of the evening and by the time we went to bed, we were all damp and chilled. I slept fitfully until some point early in the morning when the rain stopped, all four of us had migrated towards the center, and the blankets were finally doing their job.

Jonah does this thing - since the summer - where he'll pretend he's looking for something.  He'll gasp and put his hands up and glance around, which is pretty much the cutest thing ever.

It's also a great distraction tactic if he's crying.  "Jonah, where's the doggy?"

Gasp!  "Where?"  :)

The ol' girl Purdy seems to mostly like camping.  Every camper and their brother had a dog this time, though, so there was lots of barking and repeated, "Purdy, SHHH!"

After sleeping only a few hours the first night, this nap was quite needed.

Squishy Jonah cheeks are the best for kissing.

On Day Two, it was cold but the sun was out (Praise the Lord and Hallelujah!).

We ate bacon and eggs, and they teased me about coming along "just for the bacon".  I reminded them that I had brought the bacon. ;)

The kids took walks and played in the woods and looked for leaves while we adults mostly chatted around the fire, trying to thaw out from the night before.

Rick fried fish, onion rings, and french fries for lunch, per usual.  The rest of us brought dishes to share...also per usual.  (This is only my second time camping with the group, but I've been told this has been the tradition.)

It was all simple, unpretentious food - but so delicious.  I found myself wandering back to the table for another salty, fried potato of some form or another; the kids reached for another brownie bite, another sugar cookie.

We drank dark Guatemalan coffee (it's my new favorite roast) and eventually people ambled back to their campers to get their respective dinners ready.

It was all kinds of grilled deliciousness that night - we'd brought hobo dinners and there were various grilled sandwiches being made.

The smell of the campfire reminded me of so many meals in Senegal cooked over a tiny little charcoal fire.

It gave me such a hankering for Senegalese food that once we got back, I went to the store to buy ingredients for viande hachée sandwiches.

He ate leftover popcorn while we packed up Sunday morning.

The leaves were lovely, though the pictures don't do them justice.

In closing:

Camping is simple mainly in theory (and certainly if kids are involved).
Camping puts one at the mercy of the sometimes-unmerciful elements, and that is not really my favorite thing ever.
Camping is smoky.
Camping gives one a hearty appetite and makes everything taste particularly delicious.
Camping is a great way to disconnect from technology and focus on what is actually going on around you.
Camping makes memories, and I'm thankful for the memories gained with this group.

The Pumpkin Spice Post

I arrived in Senegal in August, 2013 - during hot season.  September and October rolled around, and while it was fall in the US, our weather only became more miserably humid and hot.

Facebook, Pinterest, and emails from home sent me into (mostly) inner tizzies of discontent.  While sweat literally dripped off me and I had a brutal heat rash for weeks, my friends talked about the crisp air, the turning leaves, and of course, everything pumpkin spice.  I hated it. 

When I moved back to the States two years later, I was so eager for the arrival of pumpkin spice lattes.  I think I grabbed one with my sister as soon as they hit Starbucks.

Turns out...I actually don't even like them at all!  I thought I did because everyone else seemed to, but mostly because I couldn't have them and that just wasn't fair.

Oh, Rachel.  So foolish of you.

Now I'm the one with fall while many of my friends are in fall-less climates.  Should I feel guilty?  Should I avoid mentioning fall things so they don't hate me?  Should I keep fall at arm's length for their sake?

This year the Lord has been changing my thinking, urging me: Celebrate.

I've felt such a wonderful freedom, soaking in all this beauty that He's made, embracing the colors and flavors and scents and traditions that go along with this season.  He is the Giver of good gifts, but He doesn't give all of us the same gifts, nor does He necessarily give us the same gifts for our entire lives.

Senegal was a place of many gifts (often hard ones).  I can remember them, grateful for the impact they continue to have on my life even today.  And I can receive all the gifts that go along with this place, this chapter of my story.

I can celebrate these graces from my Father who loves me, enjoying them to the fullest, yet holding them with open hands because they given to me today, not for all time.

What gifts will He choose for me tomorrow, next year, ten years from now?  They will be good, that much I know.

And today, I celebrate...today.

Not Enough Time

On Thursday evenings, a small group from my church meets at my house.

It's not a Bible study per se, but a discussion on what we've read that week.

Last semester, we went through the New Testament and this time we're reading Genesis-2 Kings.

We talk about what we noticed for the first time, what bothered us (which sounds like an odd question, but has sparked really good discussions), what questions we have, what we learned through this portion of Scripture.

We can go for two hours, and though we're tired and have other things to move on to, it feels like we could go for another two hours.  There's so much to notice!  So much to learn!

I love how questions tie in together, how we bounce off of each other, and how everyone is so eager to share what God has been showing them.

There's freedom to be honest, to challenge each other's perspectives, to let questions remain unanswered sometimes (rather than trying to come up with answers that aren't there).

Last night we were in Exodus, and I feel like we barely scratched the surface of it.  But perhaps that's my favorite part of all - the sense that we can never exhaust the treasure of truths to be found in God's Word.

Tribe Life

No matter where you may consider yourself on the introvert-extrovert scale, none of us were created to do life in complete isolation from others.

People need people; it's how God made us.

There's something profoundly delightful about having a tribe, a group of people to count on no matter what.

I can walk into their house without knocking.  We can eat leftovers together or wear comfy old clothes, because there's no need to impress.

Conversations are real, deep, and lively, but silence is okay, too.  We can disagree - strongly sometimes - and not offend each other.

Their kids squish up next to me on the couch for bedtime stories.

We grocery shop together, share household chores, pile in the car for road trips, take naps in the heat of an African afternoon.

We celebrate holidays and life events.  We make memories together.

Even though they've never met some of my family, they care about them - and I care about theirs.

When things get tough, we rally around.  When there's an emergency, we call each other.  If I need something in the middle of the night, they're there.

We can talk about anything - expressing our thoughts and feelings without fear, yet knowing the others will speak truth into our lives when we need to hear it.

We know each other's quirks, childhood memories, embarrassing moments.

There's laughter, love, deep loyalty, belonging, the gift of being known.

There are big things like births and deaths that we've walked through together, but there are also a thousand ordinary moments - washing clothes in a tiled courtyard, swinging on the porch with the summer breeze, waiting for the rice to finish cooking.

Normal includes them.

A tribe is a safety net, a priceless gift, a valuable way the Lord sanctifies and challenges and grows us...

And I'm so thankful for the one He's given me.

Light Bulb Moments

I love light bulb moments.  One of my all-time favorite memories of teaching Sunday School was the following:

In every lesson, we drew out God's character.  We'd ask, "What does this tell us about God?"  One of our repeated themes was that He is everywhere at once.  The kids could all tell us that, but when five-year-old David realized this meant God was with him in California and also with his little friend who was traveling to Florida that week (and would take care of both of them), I cheered wildly inside.

Yes!  He gets it!  This truth means something to him personally; it's not just a phrase he's parroting.

I love watching truth click for others.

Sometimes, though, I'm the one who has the light bulb moment.

During yesterday's ladies small group, we talked about worship - how all of life can be worship, how it centers on God and not us, how Martha chose to be anxious while Mary chose worship and Jesus called it the one needful thing.

I then posed an application question: How do these truths frame or re-frame the rest of the day for you?

As the words were coming out of my mouth, the lights went on for me.  I'd started this time somewhat anxious and hadn't even realized it.  After small group was over, I needed to quickly clean up the essentials, then pick up Addie and take her to her violin lesson (where I would try to finish my current book).  From there, we would run to the store for a few things, then come back to the house and eat dinner with the rest of the family after Josie's soccer game.

All of life is worship.  Living is our worship.

I could feel the weight off my shoulders almost instantly.  I didn't need to fret over all of it; the Lord wanted me to take one thing at a time - to do it for Him, to enjoy it, to be mindful of His presence in each activity.

You know what I love?  It was a couple weeks ago that I prepped the questions for this chapter on worship, but the Lord knew what this particular day would hold.  He knew right where my mind would be and what truth I would need to reminded of.

Isn't He good?

Indian Summer

After two full weekends in a row, I was quite eager for Sunday afternoon.

I made myself a cup of coffee (a dark Guatemalan roast which is my favorite recent discovery) and hopped in the car for a nice, long drive.

I started on a road I knew and then ventured beyond, winding my way through little towns, woods, open fields, and even a cider mill.

It was misty and gray, which made the trees turning stand out even more.

The colors - though just starting - were exquisite.  I wish I could have counted all the different shades I saw...

Flaming yellow
Golds
Burnt orange
Amber
Cranberry
Fiery reds
Deep crimsons
Rust
Rich brown

...and so many more in between.

For all the inward griping I did about summer coming to an end, I do so love fall.

Yesterday was lovely, just taking time to soak it all in, unhurried.

Today it was 83°.  The chocolate chips in my Larabar were all melty and my neighbors were grilling after work.  (I didn't check the forecast and foolishly thought fall was here to stay.)

Thunderstorms are in the forecast for a few days, then it's supposed to dip down into the 40's and 50's...and of course it would be the nights I'll be sleeping out in a tent.

For now, I'll enjoy the Indian summer and try to plan outfits that actually work for the whole day. :)

In the Blink of An Eye

She texted to tell me they found out they're having a daughter.

A daughter!!!

I squealed and told her I couldn't be happier for them, and then time froze for a moment while I shook my head, bewildered -

Wasn't it just yesterday that we were pony-tailed pre-teens writing letters to each other with gel pens and "WWJD?" on the envelopes?

Wasn't it just yesterday that we went to Apple Hill and got pizza and I saw my first snowfall ever?  (It was a momentous occasion to see snow in real life!)

Wasn't it just yesterday that we made glow-in-the-dark lanyards and had sleep-overs and talked long into the night?

Wasn't it just yesterday that we both had braces and my eyebrows were awkwardly thick?

Wasn't their commissioning service just yesterday, followed by teary good-byes, emails (back in the days of dial-up internet!), and rare international phone calls?

How did we get to be this old so fast?!

And yet here were are.

Time has mellowed us, softened some edges, deepened faith.  What feels like yesterday - the blink of an eye - is fifteen, eighteen, nearly twenty years ago.

How different life has turned out from how we imagined it would when we were teens...and yet how very good God has been to each of us.

Britt, I can't wait to meet your little girl someday and to watch the Lord teach and shape and grow her as He so faithfully has done for each of us.

The Shrine I Made

Hi, I'm Rachel, and I'm an idol worshipper.

I would have never called myself that back then.

I didn't worship celebrities or money or fame or sports or (heaven forbid) bow down to real wooden idols.

During my growing-up years, particularly in my teens, my dad was very busy and my mom suffered from chronic fatigue and other health issues.  There was always so much to be done, it seemed.

Enter a strong first-born sense of duty and responsibility, add a theology that told me I needed to perform to gain God's favor, and suddenly there was this elaborate shrine I made to a most insidious idol.

Other girls might have chased after beauty or popularity, but neither of those ensnared my heart.

Productivity was my biggest idol.

I loved to get things done.  I lived my life by to-do lists.  I made goals and pushed myself to achieve them.  My identity was directly tied to what I could accomplish.  If I was being productive, then I was a good person and people (and God) were happy with me.  If I wasn't productive - or as productive as I wanted to be - then I was a failure, a let-down, a disappointment.

My eyes were always on clock.  Hurry, get this finished before the hour is up.

The evenings were the worst.  Oh, no.  I didn't finish everything on my list today.  Now I have to add it to tomorrow's list.  Try harder, Rachel.  You've got to get it together.  Do more.  Get. it. done.

All the endless striving...

Underneath it felt hollow.  When would it ever be enough?

Grace came on the scene - truth that said God loves me because He is love, not because I am lovable, or productive, or responsible, or anything else.

Grace said, Rest in Me.  Find your identity in Me.  Let Me carry the load; just walk in step with Me.  My yoke is easy and My burden is light.

I didn't know this easy yoke; I only knew the exhaustion of self-effort.

But this invitation to leave the shrine, to come and bring my weary, never-productive-enough self?  I dared to believe He just might mean it.

So I came and He did and He gave the sweetest rest imaginable.

I wish that was the end of idol worship, that I never chose to go back to the shrine of my performance, that I learned the lesson once and for all...

Even now I catch myself racing the clock far too often, catch myself shriveling up over an unfinished to-do list at the end of the day.

But the invitation is still there - always there.

Come.  Rest.  Abide.

This...

This is the kind of quirkiness and banter that I find so endearing about the school - random stuff like this shows up on the white boards in the halls frequently.

This is my favorite little Avers.

This makes me smile.

This is a current favorite quote from the book we're using in my small group (Disciplines of a Godly Woman).

This is when the kids' school had a picnic to celebrate their 20th year.  They had pony rides, a bouncy house, and other fun stuff.

This Jony on a pony.  (Maybe I should write a children's book with that title...)

This is a dream coming true.  Isaac has wanted to ride a horse for forever. :)

This is Ezra, quite pleased with the little mallard he got to hold.  I was surprised that the ducks seemed so okay with the kids holding them.

This is Kai and Ava at the train museum.  I remember going there as a kid and loving it.  According to Sarah, Kai liked the museum...Ava liked the ice cream afterwards.

This is taking goofy pictures with Ezra...

This is our "serious" shot.



This is our normal shot.

This is Ava, fascinated with her Auntie Becca's lace headband.

This is yummy Senegalese dish, vermicelle.  Vermicelli, ground beef, carrots, turnips (in place of a similar veggie, navet), green beans, and lots of yummy flavorings like onions and garlic and mustard.  You can eat it just like this, or make a sandwich with a baguette.

This is my finished African wax prints quilt.  I loooove how it turned out!

This is because I always like to include something fun on the back of my quilts.

This is something I enjoy watching while I work in the kitchen: chirping, fluttering, wee birds.