Leslie Verner

February 22, 2016

Looming Transitions {Book Review}

Are you either preparing for a transition or already weathering one? In Looming Transitions: Starting and Finishing Well in Cross-Cultural Service, by Amy Young, you’ll feel like a good friend is holding your hand as you ride the waves of change. It is specifically written for those preparing to live abroad or those coming home, but many of the truths throughout the book are applicable to any of life’s transitions.

Having spent over 20 years living in China, Amy returned to the states a few years ago. She writes out of her vast experience interacting with goers, stayers and returners and offers practical and wise advice on staying grounded in Christ, packing, and the messy emotional aspects of cross-cultural transition such as shifts in identity, loneliness, grieving losses and grasping God’s new plan.

Amy acknowledges the challenges of leaving “home,” and yet offers hope that life will go on in spite of this transition. Throughout the book, she refers to the long-view the farmer takes of his field and the care given to ensure that it is fertile. She makes the comparison that we are to keep our souls fertile through our transition, which may require us to “let roles or locations or seasons of life die so there is space for the new to grow” (p. 12).

As someone who personally experienced a rocky re-entry after returning from living in China for five years, I wish a book like this had been available to give me better perspective on the emotions I was feeling at the time.

Amy Young was actually in leadership in my organization at the time I made the decision to go home and I remember being nervous to tell her that I was leaving China and would most likely get married and not return. I will never forget her response to me. “Life is long,” she said. “The longer I live, the more I realize that life is long.” Written concisely and eloquently, this book rings with the grace and peace of that statement. It is a reminder that while we get wrapped up in the momentary stress of our transition and begin to define our lives by it, God sees the big picture. His main concern is that our souls remain fertile not just for this season, but for all those to come.

Thank you, Amy, for writing such a poignant and needed book. I will be returning to it throughout the transitions in my life. You have blessed many already.

~~~

Amy Young is currently on the leadership team of Velvet Ashes–an online community for women in cross-cultural service. She also blogs regularly at The Messy Middle.

Buy Looming Transitions at Amazon here!

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Related Posts:
A Blessing {for those returning}
Book Review: The Art of Coming Home
Resources for Re-entry
Introduction: 31 Days of Re-entry

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*Graphics courtesy of Amy Young

February 20, 2016

Motherhood & the Big Picture

The kids and I spent last weekend at my parents’ house in Grand Lake, Colorado, with my brother, sister-in-law, and their four children, aged 8 to 13, who were visiting from Georgia. My son was born exactly ten years to the day after my eldest niece. As I watched these older kids, I marveled at their independence, in disbelief that my children will one day be old enough to put on their own shoes, much less play the clarinet or read The Lord of the Rings to themselves before bed at night.

Lately, I am too close to my story to see the big picture. I can’t seem to force myself to take steps back to accept that I am in one chapter and that this chapter does not equal the whole of my story. My kids will not always be 18 months and three and a half years old.

A couple years ago, my parents moved from Florida to the middle of the Rocky Mountains after a summer volunteering as rangers at Rocky Mountain National Park. They moved from sea level to over 8,000 ft. elevation and traded their swimming pool and flip flops for snowshoes and hiking boots. They now live on 20 acres, which are covered in pine trees with mountain views from all angles, live 15 miles from a grocery store and always include a trip to Target and Costco when they come to visit us in the “big” city. They are in a new season, a new chapter. They are in the season of The Widening, while we are in The Narrowing. They spent about 27 years with children at home. And now? They are still living life.

I’m reading the book, Looming Transitions, by Amy Young, and though it is written for those going abroad and coming home from living overseas, I’m finding many parallels to my transition into motherhood. She writes:

“This transition will not become of the sum of your life…It’s natural for people to mark things in terms of before or after events: graduation, marriage, a certain job, a baby, a painful breakup, a big move, or a serious health issue. But those events don’t become the story. They become a page in the story or possibly the beginning of a new chapter. They join a plot larger than the transition each one creates. Part of staying fertile, then, involves reminding yourself of of the bigger picture–the bigger story–that came before and will live on after it” (pg. 37).

“You will outlive this season,” she says (which my husband and I have repeated to ourselves about ten times since I read it to him the other night) (pg. 47).

To put things in perspective, if my husband and I live to be 85 and only have two kids, this is the percentage of my life I will have spent doing each of the following (rounding up):

Being in school: 24%
Being single: 36%
Living in China: 6%
Being pregnant: 2%
Having a three-year-old: 2%
Having children at home: 24%
Being married: 64% (and that’s after getting married “late”!)

When I am running up a long hill, I sometimes choose a landmark a short distance away and just try and run to that, then immediately pick another one and run to that until I am all the way up the hill. In motherhood, sometimes keeping the short view helps us to keep running. But in the end, God-willing, our story lives not only beyond this time at home with little ones, but way beyond that. And if we live a long life, mothering tiny ones is certainly a short chapter in a long story.

We will outlive this season.

As I drove the three hours back home from Grand Lake this weekend, my kids mercifully slept and I drove without music, drinking in the silence. As I navigated Berthoud Pass, a 20 minute winding up and down along stunning mountain vistas, a sense of awe came over me. It was the same feeling that has swallowed me as I’ve stood at the edge of the ocean, run in a crowd of 40,000 in a race in Chicago, and sat at the ridge of the blown-off top of Mt. St. Helens, recognizing the speck below me as a helicopter circling the cavern.

I felt small.

Not the smallness I wrote about last week in the sense of purpose, but a sense of physical smallness that envelops you as you realize that this life, this world, really isn’t about you at all. You are a single pine needle on a tree in a vast forest, a speck of sand among billions on the beach. You are a part of a story much larger than yourself. And your story is a story within a story within a story.

Our children will become men and women–adults with lives of their own. We, like my parents, may move across the country or world and start new adventures. God will teach us new knowledge, increase our faith and loosen our tongues to praise Him as He walks beside us each day, fueling us from within. We are privileged to be a part of the larger story of His creation and redemption of the world and can know Him and love Him forever.

And our stories will surprise us more than we know.

This week, some memories from seven years ago appeared on Facebook, almost one year to the day before my husband and I met and started dating. The first was of Adam in the show, Twelfth Night, and another one was of me with friends in Thailand. He was acting and I was traveling the world.

Oh, how life has changed. Sometimes that feels like someone else’s life. But I’m starting to realize that it was a chapter, just as being a mother to little ones is a chapter.

And God-willing, there will even be chapters after that.

Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever! Amen. (Eph. 3:20-21)

~~~~~~

Related post: Life is Not Seasonal

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Motherhood & the Big Picture~ Lately, I am too close to my story to see the big picture. I can't seem to force myself to take steps back to accept that I am in one chapter and that this chapter does not equal the whole of my story. My kids will not always be 18 months and three and a half years old.

February 18, 2016

Thursday Thoughts for Writers~ Christian Art

On Thursdays this year, I’ll share thoughts, tips and inspiration for writers. I’m certainly not an expert, but am simply seeking personal encouragement in this art and want to share with anyone who’s also trying to find their way as a writer. These short posts will come from books, articles, the Bible, my own thoughts, and other people. Check back each week or subscribe for new posts. Please introduce yourself in the comments–I’d love to meet you and hear about your thoughts on writing.

Happy writing!

Leslie

Christian Art {Thursday Thoughts for Writers}~ What differentiates Christian art from secular art? Should the sole purpose of our art be to preach, evangelize, or disciple? And why does Christian art sometimes seem inferior to secular art?

[Disclaimer: This is a huge topic that I am skimming the surface of right now. For the purpose of this essay, I am thinking of writing when I talk about “art.”]

If you are a follower of Christ and you are also an artist, the art that you do, whether overtly or not, is Christian art. When I was a college freshman still living in my black and white world, I felt bowled over by heresy when my Christian professors started throwing around the phrase, “All truth is God’s truth.” And yet in time I saw the wisdom in that statement. All art, no matter who created it, has an element of imago dei in it, because every person is created in the image of God.

But what differentiates Christian art from secular art? Should the sole purpose of our art be to preach, evangelize, or disciple? And why does Christian art sometimes seem inferior to secular art?

Christian art has the aroma of Christ about it. Just as we can blindly identify the fragrance of a rose, the art of a Christ follower will have the essence of the eternal, an underlying hope in the almost, but not yet.

Sometimes we don’t know the exact purpose of our art, we only know that we are being obedient. In Walking on Water, Madeline L’Engle puts it this way: “The artist, like Mary, is free to say No. When a shoddy novel is published the writer is rejecting the obedient response, taking the easy way out. But when the words mean even more than the writer knew they meant, then the writer has been listening. And sometimes when we listen, we are led into places we do not expect, into adventures we do not always understand” (p. 22).

Creating Christian art is about trusting that God may be prompting us to something beyond ourselves and we may never know how He plans to use it. It could even be purely for His own pleasure and nothing else.

God gave very detailed instructions for the construction and decoration of His Tabernacle that some might consider to be extravagant. What did it matter that the clothing of the priests be embroidered with gold, blue, purple and scarlet thread (Exodus 39)? But those who had the joy of creating this art were the ones who were willing to listen and had enough courage to be obedient to the work God was calling them to do.

So why does it seem like Christan art is sometimes inferior to secular art? Is it possible that the Christian is not listening well or not willing to take risks? Or perhaps they’re focusing more on the art than on God?

Sometimes I wonder if God surrounded us with trees so that we wouldn’t forget a few simple lessons in life: 1) stay rooted, 2) keep growing, and 3) bear fruit.

As we create, we’re to stay rooted in Christ, not our art. When we face criticism or self-doubt, being rooted in Him will keep us anchored. Our branches stretch high and wide, growing daily as we reach our roots into more of Him, listening for His voice and prompting. And the fruit that we produce as a result of listening and walking in the Spirit will reflect the type of tree that we are–one that is rooted in Christ and devoted entirely to Him.

The result is that anything that we create is an echo of the One we are getting our nourishment, strength and motivation from. Our art is already Christian when it is a natural outpouring of our love for Christ, whether directly or indirectly.

Related Scriptures:
Colossians 3:23
Isaiah 37:31
Galatians 5:16-26

~~~~~~

Do you ever feel like Christian art is inferior to secular art? Why do you think that is?

~~~~~~

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February 11, 2016January 13, 2017

For the Mom Whose Life Feels Small

Lately, I feel like the tree in this picture–frozen in place and stripped down to bare branches, while everything in the distance sparkles with wonder. As a girl who wanted to go into missions and rarely dated, I tried to prepare myself for the fact that I might never get married. As a result, I never dreamed I would be a stay-at-home-mom. Teacher, missionary, world-traveler and adventurer, maybe, but I didn’t imagine I’d be inching this close to the “soccer mom” category–ever.

But here I am.

I have an 18-month-old and a three and a half year old who rely on me to sustain their loud little lives on a 24-hour basis. My husband is extremely helpful and doesn’t shy away from the dirty duties of parenthood, but he works from 9 to 5 and I am the full-time caretaker to these two little ones.

And that is all that I do right now. Because, truly, it is a 24-hour job (if you’ve never seen it, watch the video that went viral in 2014 called “The World’s Toughest Job” about motherhood).

In my post, The Narrowing, I say that I am being given the “gift of lessening.” This week, I‘ve been struggling to have this positive perspective. I lead a small life, insignificant to all but about five people in the world right now, and it just feels like there should be more.

But this morning on my run, something happened. The sun was beginning to rise as I set out and the sky was a swirly dark blue, with asphalt-shaded mountains in the distance. Slowly, the sun began to illuminate the hills, then the tips of the winter trees who were striking a pose as if stopped mid-dance. Fiery gold and blazing orange suddenly shone on that lone stripped-down tree, which had been plain black just a minute before. And the light poured over it in blinding brilliance like a burning bush. And God seemed to speak.

“I see you.”

I see you, sweet mama. As you wipe another nose, change another diaper, read another story. I see you as you wearily stumble out of bed in the middle of the night to fix your child’s pillow that wasn’t quite touching the wall the way he liked. While no one else is watching, I know when you fold that load of laundry for the thirtieth time this month. And I see you when you stand at the grocery store and wonder how many children you can safely fit into one shopping cart (AND fit all your groceries). And I smile when you think that a dentist visit now qualifies as a “relaxing” event because you are forced to lie down for almost an hour.

And do you see this ordinary tree?

The only reason she is radiant right now is because I am shining on her. I am what makes this tree beautiful, just as I am making you resplendent with my light.

Those who look to the Lord are radiant, their faces are never covered with shame (Ps. 34:5).

When I learned to scuba dive (in what life was that??), I found myself wondering why God would bury incredible creatures so deep in the ocean that humans would never even see. And then it hit me. He did it for Himself. They were reserved for His own personal entertainment, enjoyment and pleasure.

God loves the hidden things, the obscure, buried, and weak.

He rejoices in them as He delights in treasure. As He delights in you and I. Though we may feel small and insignificant, God shines on us and makes us radiant purely for His own pleasure.

The Message version of Jesus’ beatitudes speaks right to the heart of this ordinary stay-at-home-mom today:

“You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule.

You’re blessed when you feel you’ve lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.

You’re blessed when you’re content with just who you are–no more, no less. That’s the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can’t be bought.

You’re blessed when you’ve worked up a good appetite for God. He’s food and drink in the best meal you’ll ever eat.

You’re blessed when you care. At the moment of being ‘care-full,’ you find yourselves cared for.

You’re blessed when you get your inside world–your mind and heart–put right. Then you can see God in the outside world.”

Matthew 5: 3-9 (MSG)

God sees you. No matter where you are or how insignificant you feel, He delights in you. And like the plain and ordinary tree, our smallness only serves to illuminate His radiance in our lives.

I’m clinging to those love words today. With less of me, there is more of God (Mat. 5:3 MSG).

Do you ever feel like you lead a small life?

What do you tell yourself in those moments?

{I’m taking a week off from Thursday Thoughts for Writers because I’m coming down with a cold and already had this post written. I’ll be back on track by next week!}

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and Grace & Truth

Lately, I feel like the tree in this picture--frozen in place and stripped down to bare branches, while everything in the distance sparkles with wonder. As a girl who wanted to go into missions and rarely dated, I tried to prepare myself for the fact that I might never get married. As a result, I never dreamed I would be a stay-at-home-mom.

February 8, 2016

When We Fear {for Velvet Ashes}

I’m honored to be writing over at Velvet Ashes today.

When We Fear~ As women, we instinctively understand what it means to fear.

As women, we instinctively understand what it means to fear. We fear that God won’t meet the desires of our heart. We fear being insignificant or ordinary. We fear rejection. We fear cancer stealing our lives or the lives of our loved ones. We fear tragedies and accidents. Fear is our default emotion.

Living abroad, I feared not having adequate medical attention. I feared that I had given up my opportunity to get married by moving to the middle-of-nowhere-China. I feared that I was missing everything back home—my nieces and nephews growing up, friend’s weddings, babies—all of it. I feared I would never fit in anywhere again. That I had lost my sense of home. I feared failure and not being able to tell my supporters that their money was well-spent.

When we become mothers, we board the Fear Train and never seem to be able to get off. With each of my babies, I spent the first year of their lives waking up terrified that I had rolled over them in the night—even when they were asleep in their cribs. When they started walking, I would leap out of bed in at night to prevent them from killing themselves in a multitude of creative ways in my dreams. Night was the time my every fear had its rehearsal.

Fear can consume us and spread like a communicable disease. I witnessed this in China after the Sichuan earthquake in 2008. Though we were hundreds of miles from the quake, we felt the earth riot violently and send our buildings swaying as if at sea. And the fear in the weeks following became a sickness. Many students refused to sleep in their dorms and camped outside. Students skipped class. Rumors of aftershocks and reports of the aftermath in Sichuan fed our fears. It was the first time I had experienced the choking power of fear to control en masse.

But God does not intend for fear to consume us…continue reading

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February 4, 2016January 13, 2017

Thursday Thoughts for Writers~When I Forget to Love

Happy writing!

Leslie

How do you manage your compulsion to write--being obedient to the call without making it your idol?

I just spent the last hour this morning ignoring my kids and doing “just one more thing” on the computer while my husband got them out of their beds, changed two dirty diapers and prepared breakfast. An hour later, I finally glanced up to acknowledge that I had checked out and wasn’t being fair to my husband. This wasn’t the first time in recent weeks that something like this has happened.

Lately, as I’ve thought about what it means to be both a writer and a follower of Jesus, these words have been coming to mind:

“If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.

And if I have prophetic powers and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.

If I give away all I have and if I deliver my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.”

1 Corinthians 13:1-3

When I do not write out of love, my words are hollow, empty and meaningless.

In order to write from a place of love, I must be living a life of love. I’ve heard from many writers that the best writing comes out of a life well-lived. According to the God-man who walked on earth, that sort of life comes only when I am loving the Lord my God with all my heart, soul, mind and strength; and secondly, loving my neighbor as myself (Mat. 22:37-39). In high school youth group, we were taught to prioritize our life with “J.O.Y.”: Jesus first, others second, yourself last. But lately as I’ve been exploring what it means to be a writer, I’ve started to flip my priorities, putting myself first, others second and Jesus dead-last.

The biblical definition of love is confusing to the rest of the world because we must first admit we are lost, hungry, thirsty, dirty, needy, poor, destitute, and dead before we can know True Love. And it is out of our gratefulness for that Love that loved us anyway that we are freed to love others and create the art that God has put into our hearts to create.

Am I letting myself soak in the well of that Love each day, allowing it to seep into every crack and permeate my soul? Do I write out of a burning heart, like those who walked with Jesus on the road to Emmaus? I wonder if some days would be better spent sitting and waiting for the Spirit to move me instead of writing a post jabbering on like the clanging cymbal of 1 Corinthians 13?

And how can I hope to write well (i.e. from a life of love) when I am blatantly ignoring my husband or children to put my impulse to write before their needs? Fortunately my husband hasn’t resented me (too much) yet, but I am still wrestling with wisdom to wiggle writing into the fringes of life rather than allow it to take center stage during this season when I have little ones to love first.

God wants our words to create a symphony and not be a lone clanging cymbal. He wants us to be everything He created us to be and gain all the gifts of the Spirit that He intended for us to live by. But His love must be central. It must be the standard to which every aspect of my life is calibrated. And when I am loving well, I will be writing well.

What are some ways you have been able to love well/live well AND write well without ignoring your family in the process?

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The Compulsion to Write~How do you manage your compulsion to write--being obedient to the call without making it your idol?

February 2, 2016January 13, 2017

White People Are Boring

Though I am as white as they come, most of the time I wish I didn't live in America--or at least didn't live surrounded by other white people.

Though I‘m as white as they come, most of the time I wish I lived in another country–or at least didn’t live surrounded by other white people. Having traveled to multiple countries, I find other cultures, ethnicities, exotic foods and customs fascinating. I especially love collectivist cultures in South America, Africa and Asia where spontaneous visits, eating off the same plates, invitations to family meals and sitting around chatting for hours are the norm, not the exception. People are not seen as individuals, but draw their identity through being a part of the whole. Because of this, the church instinctively knows how to move as one unit with more fluidity than we do in the west.

In China, I was close to a young Chinese couple that led a small house church. When a couple in their group started having martial problems, they didn’t just refer them to a book to read or a counselor to go to, they MOVED IN WITH THEM. Literally, moved into their house for several weeks to help them work through some of their issues. Can you imagine something like that happening in western countries?

In Uganda, friends would go out on weekends and visit friend’s homes unannounced. I remember meeting an African family studying in America at my college and they complained that they just didn’t know how to make friends in a culture that didn’t just “drop in” on each other, but had to plan everything weeks in advance. In China, it took me weeks of being stood up to realize that I was planning too far in advance (one week). When I asked my Chinese students when you should ask someone to dinner if you wanted to go on a Saturday, most said Friday–the day before.

Since returning from living in China five years ago, I’ve definitely struggled with some of my motives in wanting to live overseas. Yes, I felt that God had “called” me overseas and to this day, I am in tears when I hear missionaries share in church or if I see videos meant to inspire people to go. Just this Sunday a man stood up in church and shared about a short term trip to Ecuador and every part of me wanted to jump on a plane in July–with or without my family–and be there. But I have also had to wrestle with the fact that I liked being viewed as different, special and radical–both in my own culture and in other cultures. And I am addicted to adventure, the exotic and the Next Thing. I live in the tension, wondering if I’m “called” or if I’m just eager for change.

So instead of looking for ways to go abroad, I’m struggling to be content where I am. And that means loving the people right here in my city in Colorado, which happen to be 92% white. But so far many of those boring white people have certainly shocked me.

My first friend after we moved last year is a woman I met at the park. We connected and since our kids were the same genders and ages, agreed to meet up again sometime. Though colorful tattoos decorated her arms and back, I didn’t think she was too different from the other women I had seen around. She mentioned that she and her husband own a martial arts academy, so naturally I googled it and her as soon as I got home. Turns out before kids she was not only an instructor, but a world champion martial arts competitor.

One of our neighbors is a stay-at-home dad who is in a band on the side. A woman at church mentioned she takes snuff when she goes to her in-laws. Out of a Bible study of 20 women I’m in, over half have lived abroad. A woman we had over from church yesterday told us about her daughter who is a professional synchronized swimmer. And I mentioned to two women at a moms’ group that I started a blog and both of them happen to be writers as well.

As I wrote last week about trying to notice people all around me, part of this is realizing that I am making unfair assumptions about people as “boring,” writing them off before I even have a chance to know them. But what I’m really doing is not building a wall around others, but around myself. Because I can’t know others well unless I also allow myself to be known.

“If someone says, ‘I love God,’ and hates his brother, he is a liar; for the one who does not love his brother whom he has seen, cannot love God whom he has not seen. And this commandment we have from Him, that the one who loves God should love his brother also” (1 John 4:20-21).

We are called to a life of loving others, no matter their outer appearance.

So I’m praying for open eyes to see people without prejudice or prejudgement. I’m striving to be content where I am. And I’m asking that God help me to see people as He sees them and love them as He does. Because, truly, no matter what country, culture, race or custom, those who know Jesus are my brothers and sisters, “For you are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus…There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free man, there is neither male nor female; you are all one in Christ Jesus” (Gal. 3:26, 28).

I, not God, am actually the one making the distinctions and declarations, because God Himself looks at us all and simply sees His beloved children. And I long to see people of all colors (including my own) as He does–full of beauty, life, creativity and His very characteristics.

Do you ever feel like white people are boring? Do you have any stories of people who have surprised you?

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January 31, 2016January 13, 2017

Monthly Mentionables {January}: Books, Podcasts, Music, Movies, T.V., Recipes & Articles

These links and recommendations come from conversations, podcasts and Facebook posts I came across in January. I love lists, so I thought you might enjoy reading about what I stumbled on this month. Add your own in the comments!

Books:
All the Light We Cannot See, by Anthony Doerr
I stuck with this even though it took me until about 2/3 of the way through to get into it. The main reason I did was because the writing is so wonderful that you get caught up in the sheer beauty of the images, even though you don’t feel like they’re actually leading you anywhere. Not my favorite, but it was certainly worth the read.

Wild in the Hollow, by Amber C. Haines
This is a memoir of a woman moving from her wild past into womanhood and the way she carries her past into her present. Boiled down, it is not a new story, but it is so well–written that I read it in two days. Amber studied poetry and it really comes through in the writing. Her images are startling at times, but their newness brings so much freshness to the way she talks about God and family. It is a beautiful story.

Podcasts:
Magic Lessons, by Elizabeth Gilbert
Elizabeth Gilbert is like a cheerleader for artists. Listening to the first two podcasts helped give me permission to pursue this compulsion I’ve had lately to write. They’re only 20 minutes each and wonderful for anyone who is feeling guilty about pursing art (you’ll stop that).
Episode 1: Do What Ignites Your Soul
Episode 2: Cheryl Strayed to Moms: Pursue Your Passions Like a Mofo

This American Life
These two podcasts really got me fired up. I mean, I wanted to call senators, write letters and jump into protests. They are about segregation in America and about a few communities that have either chosen or been forced to integrate the schools. As a child who grew up under forced integration in Tampa, FL, and later was a teacher in a magnet school that bused kids at least an hour out to go to school in a white neighborhood, I found these to be fascinating. And horrible. Please, if you listen to anything this year, listen to these two podcasts.
Part I: The Problem We All Live With
Part II: The Problem We All Live With

Music:
Walk Off the Earth: Adele, “Hello,” cover
This is thanks to my friend, Roxanne, who posted it on Facebook. Thanks–I’ve had this song in my head for the past week! This is a new group to me and I love their creativity. This one is pretty awesome, too–they all play the same guitar!

Movies:
Infinitely Polar Bear, with Mark Ruffalo
This was a fun indie film about a man who is bi-polar and trying to parent his children while is wife is away getting a degree. It takes place in the late 70’s, so I kind of felt like I was watching Sesame Street from my childhood years in the 80’s. It didn’t change my life, but it was heart-warming and entertaining.

Sisters, with Tiny Fey and Amy Poehler
I’m actually kind of embarrassed to admit that I saw this. Okay, it was hilarious, but very raunchy. I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone unless they were on their first girl weekend away in Chicago without kids in four years (like I was;-) )

T.V.:
Broadchurch
Loving this British mystery series about a murder in a small, beautiful coastal town in England. Adam says it reminds him a lot of The Killing, which I haven’t seen. We’re really enjoying the filming, music, pace, acting and scenery.

Recipes, all from Cookie + Kate:
Spinach Artichoke Lasagna
This is a really unique dish. Not surprisingly, my son actually gagged when we made him take his obligatory one bite, but don’t let that deter you. I really liked that it uses cottage cheese instead of ricotta since I’m not a huge ricotta fan. And the artichokes give it a tangy flavor. I’d make it again.

Homemade Vegetarian Chili
This was surprisingly good for not having meat. And it wasn’t too spicy–my one year old even ate it! It’s a good go-to chili dish.

Thai Red Curry with Vegetables
I was really excited about this one because I love coconut milk, but it was a little disappointing. It was just missing something. Can’t say what, but if I make it again, I may add more red curry paste and add the red pepper flakes straight into it while it’s cooking. My kids didn’t eat it anyway, so I may as well have made it spicy the way we like it.

Healthy Banana Bread!
I almost made another loaf using my regular recipe just in case this was awful, but it was actually really good! I’m not sure if I would actually call it “healthy,” because it still has a good amount of honey and/or maple syrup (I used half of each), coconut oil and of course I had to add chocolate chips. But I was pleasantly surprised. You couldn’t even tell it was 100% whole wheat flour. I’ll be making this again.

Sweet Corn and Black Bean Tacos
This was probably my favorite of the new recipes I tried this month and as a bonus, my kids actually ate it! I didn’t trust fresh corn this time of year, so I just let the frozen corn thaw as it marinated and it tasted fine. I also used whole wheat flour tortillas instead of corn ones because that seemed redundant with the corn filling. This dish has all my favorite ingredients: cilantro, lime, corn and feta! Yum.

Recipe, Food Network:
Lasagna Soup
I made some changes to this one: Since I don’t like ricotta, I cut up mozzarella cheese sticks and used those instead (delicious after they were warmed by the soup!), I also didn’t top with Parmesan cheese (since I used mozzarella), skipped the cream because I didn’t want it to be so rich, and in the last few minutes of cooking, I put in a few handfuls of fresh spinach to increase the veggie quotient. So good. This was delicious and I think it would freeze well, so it would be an easy recipe to double.

Subscribed to:
Book Bub
Daily list of deals on either free or super cheap ebooks. Haven’t downloaded any yet, but it seems good so far.

The Skimm
This is a very pared-down version of a daily news update delivered to your email inbox. I wouldn’t use this as your only news outlet, but it simplifies it enough that it is very easy to understand. My main complaint is that it reads a little like it’s “news for dummies.”

NY Times morning briefing
Loving this so far. Just short snippets of news with links to articles if you want to know more.

Articles from the Web:
Aldi is Fixing its Biggest Weakness–and that should terrify Whole Foods

How to Build a Capsule Wardrobe and Winter 2016 Fashion Capsule Wardrobe Project

The Christian Introvert

A Question of Environmental Racism in Flint

“Tragedy” in Flint

Clothing bales and hurting more than we help

Scraping Raisins:
January’s most-visited post: What Love Looks Like After Five Years of Marriage

New weekly series for writers and artists: Thursday Thoughts for Writers

Visit my first published article at Velvet Ashes, an online magazine for women serving overseas: When You Feel Spiritually Dehydrated…Again

What did you come across this month that you’d like to add to the list?

Last Post: Thursday Thoughts for Writers~The Compulsion to Write
Next Post: White People Are Boring

Linking up with: Emily P. Freeman and Literacy Musing Mondays and Leigh Kramer

January 28, 2016January 13, 2017

Thursday Thoughts for Writers~The Compulsion to Write

Happy writing!

Leslie

“Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heart; confess to yourself whether you would have to die if you were forbidden to write. This most of all: ask yourself in the most silent hour of your night: must I write?

And if this answer rings out in assent, if you meet this solemn question with a strong, simple “I must,” then build your life in accordance with this necessity; your whole life, even into its humblest and most indifferent hour, must become a sign and witness to this impulse.”

~Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

“Whatever you do, do it with all your heart as in working for the Lord and not for men.”

~Colossians 3:23

Writing is a compulsion, but while it is a calling, I disagree with Rilke that we should build our entire life around it. If we are followers of Jesus, He is our God, not our art. Writing, like anything, can easily become an idol. But just because we don’t worship our art doesn’t mean that we create inferior art. Instead, it means that we have a more astute understanding of the impulse within human beings to create, because we know the Creator. So we write in the tension, pouring out our hearts while they are being held by our God.

How do you manage your compulsion to write—being obedient to the call without making it your idol?

Resources:
In the first two episodes of the podcast, Magic Lessons, Elizabeth Gilbert is a great cheerleader to encourage you to follow-through if you are feeling the urge to write.
Episode 1: Do What Ignites Your Soul
Episode 2: Cheryl Strayed to Moms

Previous Post: When I Forget to Notice People

Next Post: Monthly Mentionables {January}: Books, Podcasts, Music, Movies, T.V., Recipes & Articles

Last Week‘s Thursday Thoughts for Writers~Bread and Fish

January 27, 2016January 13, 2017

When I Forget to Notice People

Lately, I feel like God is reminding me to notice.

Notice detail, notice people, notice Him. Because I haven’t been. And noticing is a prerequisite to thankfulness, praise, worship and action. I’m bumping along life without recognition, like the blind man who wasn’t completely healed and saw people walking around that looked like trees. I need Jesus to restore my vision completely. Because I have forgotten how to SEE people.

As I reach around my one-year-old strapped to my front, searching for my wallet and watching for my three-year-old who is most likely pulling all the chip bags off the stand or smearing the display case glass with finger prints, it catches me off guard when the cashier behind the counter asks me, “How is your day going?” or “Have you had a good morning?” The first few times this happened after moving to Colorado, I’m sure I just looked at them with my mouth hanging slightly open. Chicago is not an unfriendly city, but perfect strangers didn’t usually ask me such personal questions. How was I supposed to answer?

But the question, though I now realize was not a true venture into how I am feeling at the current moment, rocked me, because I hadn’t even noticed a person was there until they spoke to me. Worse, I would have gone through our entire interaction without even looking them in the eye.

In The Weight of Glory, C.S. Lewis says, “It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest most uninteresting person you can talk to may one day be a creature which,if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree helping each other to one or the other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all of our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations – these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit – immortal horrors or everlasting splendors.”

People are eternal. And every.single.one. is made in the image of God Himself. So when I don’t see people, I don’t see God.

Lately, I have not only failed to notice strangers, but I have even forgotten to notice the people who are right in front of me–my children and husband. Now, I believe in rest, alone time, naps and hobbies, but I have begun ignoring my children even during times when I could be fully present with them. Scrolling Facebook during bath time, texting while I sit with them on the floor, and spacing out when they ask me questions, I spend the day lamely multi-tasking when I would be better off focusing on one activity at a time–mainly, my children. And I’m missing out.

And though love is not a fairy tale, how often do I take a second and really gaze into my husband’s eyes? How often do I think about him during the day or sit and talk with him face-to-face instead of operating in survival mode, ticking off tasks as we work side-by-side? When did I stop leaving him little love notes or sweet texts? Have I prayed for him today, yesterday or anytime recently?

The word I’ve chosen to focus on this year is “enjoy,” which begins with noticing. When I set aside my phone and to-do lists and intentionally notice people, I can begin to enjoy the people all around me.

If I would only ACCEPT that the pace of my life right now with two kids under three needs to be slower than I’ve ever been used to, I’ll begin to notice God in the details more than I ever have. For nature, strangers, friends, family, my children and my husband are really displays of the splendor of God at work all around me. If I will only take the time to notice.

Do you notice people?

How do you notice God?

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