The Song of the Garden

I'm thankful for the garden each year, I love to get my hands in the dirt. This year feels even more like a gift, a new song. A beginning.

It was this time last year when I woke up on a Thursday morning feeling fine, but within two hours panic and anxiety had taken hold of my heart. I really haven't been the same since that day. On the outside you cannot tell, but my heart has been changed for the better... though there were days I wondered. The garden last year all but withered and died, the fruit small and wanting. A picture of the time to come.

In that one crazy week I realized life can change in an instant without much warning, and when it happens there isn't much you can do but cling to Jesus, and trust He will carry you though.

And He will, and the dust settles and life rolls on, and you have to keep trusting. Every. single. day.

The great news is this:  God comes when you call Him. He will not delay. I know that is true.

I'm memorizing Psalm 40, a plea and a praise for God's saving help. I chose blindly, but it was no accident-- God has lifted me out of my own slimy pit, and has given me a firm place to stand.  I need to have this truth pressed deep into my heart, though I haven't yet dared to forget.


Life is tender and fragile, yet hearty and full. Amazingly, those attributes are all intertwined. That is often hard for me, in life and in faith. I want to appear STRONG and COURAGEOUS, yet the weak shall inherit the earth. It is in our weakness we find our Strength.

He lifted me from the pit of anxiety and fear, and set my feet on a Rock. I'm learning to sing a new song. Sometimes the song is mournful, grieving that old self-reliant way--those weeds cannot stay. Other times the hymn is sweet-- God is faithful and loving, I can rejoice in His saving help. I can proclaim The Lord is Great! in ALL times. Both sing equally true.

I don't walk quite as tall in my own ability anymore--false security is always weak, even on its best day. When fear and panic starts to rise, I will trust in the saving help of a faithful God from who fear will flee. With His help I will remember His truth. Last year's garden was sorely neglected because I wasn't well... but this year holds new promises for me. May my song, in joy and affliction, always be one of praise.

~~~

Psalm 40

For the director of music. Of David. A psalm.

¹ I waited patiently for the Lord;
    he turned to me and heard my cry.
² He lifted me out of the slimy pit,
    out of the mud and mire;
he set my feet on a rock
    and gave me a firm place to stand.
³ He put a new song in my mouth,
    a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear the Lord
    and put their trust in him.

⁴ Blessed is the one
    who trusts in the Lord,
who does not look to the proud,
    to those who turn aside to false gods.
⁵ Many, Lord my God,
    are the wonders you have done,
    the things you planned for us.
None can compare with you;
    were I to speak and tell of your deeds,
    they would be too many to declare.

⁶ Sacrifice and offering you did not desire—
    but my ears you have opened-
    burnt offerings and sin offerings you did not require.
⁷ Then I said, “Here I am, I have come—
    it is written about me in the scroll.
⁸ I desire to do your will, my God;
    your law is within my heart.”

⁹ I proclaim your saving acts in the great assembly;
    I do not seal my lips, Lord,
    as you know.
¹⁰ I do not hide your righteousness in my heart;
    I speak of your faithfulness and your saving help.
I do not conceal your love and your faithfulness
    from the great assembly.

¹¹ Do not withhold your mercy from me, Lord;
    may your love and faithfulness always protect me.
¹² For troubles without number surround me;
    my sins have overtaken me, and I cannot see.
They are more than the hairs of my head,
    and my heart fails within me.
¹³ Be pleased to save me, Lord;
    come quickly, Lord, to help me.

¹⁴ May all who want to take my life
    be put to shame and confusion;
may all who desire my ruin
    be turned back in disgrace.
¹⁵ May those who say to me, “Aha! Aha!”
    be appalled at their own shame.
¹⁶ But may all who seek you
    rejoice and be glad in you;
may those who long for your saving help always say,
    “The Lord is great!”

¹⁷ But as for me, I am poor and needy;
    may the Lord think of me.
You are my help and my deliverer;
    you are my God, do not delay.

Light on the Sea

2nd morning

Recently my family headed to Topsail Island for a week of R&R. Nearly every morning The  Mister and the kids slept in, as one is supposed to do on restful beachy vacations, but I just couldn't do it. My heart and mind were set on the sunrise way before the break of day. It was futile to lie in bed and miss it.

3rd Morning

Wrapped in a blanket and clutching a warm mug, I would anticipated the glorious picture soon to be painted across the water. I was like a kid on Christmas morning, bleary eyed, but ready.  Often I was the only one outside, and I wondered: Do people know what they are missing? Why am I the only one out here?

5th morning

Each dusky dawn brought forth a show of wonder and glory... a new gift of mercy, for needy folk like me.

But on April 25, I received two gifts: one in the morning, and one in the night.

That week happened to be the week of the New Moon. I knew the moon on the water would probably be amazing. I was really looking forward to nighttime on the surf. 

When the sun set I was surprised I didn't see the pale moon face in the clear sky. It got very dark with no moon in sight. By 9:00p it was pitch black outside, I could barely see the surf just yards away from our deck. This wasn't what I was anticipating. A quick Google search informed me that the moon would rise at 9:08p. In all the sunrises I've eagerly waited for, I had never seen the moon rise over the sea!  My sweet family often entertains my crazy love and excitement for God's display of beauty through nature. So when I asked them to watch it with me, they happily threw on sweatshirts and blankets and headed out to see what would happen. 

We were not disappointed. 

It was awesome-- at first it was a tiny red sliver clinging to the horizon, but soon the moon was full, the colors of fire. It looked as if you could reach out, with just a little bit of stretch, and hold it.

Within minutes her color changed and she was radiant and bright, reflecting on the water. We watched until we all shivered in the cold air.

I took this picture after 10pm while standing at the kitchen sink. If my son (you can see him texting on the couch below) hadn't laid claim to that spot for his bed, I would have slept there. Can you imagine falling asleep with moonlight on the sea? Wonder full.

Many, Lord my God, are the wonders you have done,

the things you planned for us.

None can compare with you;

Were I to speak and tell of your deeds,

They would be too many to declare.

~Psalm 40:5

Writing Assignment

The kid's writing assignment this week is to write out how they came to be followers of Christ. 

About a year ago I was asked to write out my testimony. I never shared it here on the blog. This is in part to the personal nature of my story. It isn't easy to write. It isn't easy to share. But it is beautiful to me... because Christ has carried me through. 

Today I share with you my greatest Love, my deepest wound, my biggest Victory. Jesus isn't just a sweet story of my life, He is my life. 

He knows you just as well, and desires that you know Him. May His work in my life encourage you to pursue this Man of Sorrows who lifts our head and makes us clean.

With much love,
Kellie

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Personal Testimony of How I Became A Christian

I grew up a "good girl" in the Catholic faith. I had a heart for God as a young child and into my teenage years. In high school and college I was very active within our parish and spent many hours volunteering in different capacities within the church.

Although I was known for being "religious" I was private about my faith. I received great comfort in knowing there was a God, and knew that He had the best in mind for me, but the concept of the Trinity was confusing: I preferred not to talk about Jesus because he felt too controversial. The Holy Spirit was frightening to me, so I chose not to dwell on Him. In many ways, that was how I played out my faith in those early years, picking and choosing my belief based on what I could understand or feel -- or worse, how I would be perceived. I felt fairly certain that being a "good girl" had worked for me, that I could continue to do good, be good, and hang out with good people, then God would know I was good.

However, I was shaky about how good would be good enough to be in God's favor. I assumed that this was where "faith" played out. 

I met my husband, (The Mister), during a very difficult time in my life. My family and I were sitting in the fall-out of crises. Through a series of events in my freshman year of college, I had been forced to expose over a decade of sexual abuse under the hand of my paternal grandfather. In this process, the large extended family chose to support my grandfather. I certainly felt alone like I never had before.

Somehow, I never lost sight that God was with me, but suddenly, at nineteen years of age I was no longer the "good girl." I was the whistle blower on issues that didn't begin with me, and had long been swept under the rug.

It was about 18 months after this had come to pass that I met (The Mister). He was already a follower of Jesus and he patiently fed me the Good News of Christ, over and over again. During that first year of friendship, and then dating, he told me that the only way to know God was to know His Son, Jesus. He explained that God could not look upon me because of my sin. I could never be or do enough good, but there was hope. Christ gave up His own life to pay for my sin. I could admit my sin and receive his salvation, and know a true and right relationship with God. He explained that the Holy Spirit wasn't something to ignore out of fear, but that God's work through the Holy Spirit would allow me to grow in life and love and truth.

I knew (The Mister) served a very different God than the one I had been serving, but it took me a long time to understand and make a decision. One evening in December of 1993, while The Mister and I were praying, I realized that God's Word (the Bible) was true, and His sacrifice was personal and real.  I decided to trust Jesus as my Savior - to follow Him alone.

Since this decision, my spiritual life has continued to be a process as I daily set aside pride and my desire to earn salvation, and to focus my trust in Jesus. I've learned (and continue to learn) that I am more than the things I've done or will do, much more than the people I know... I have learned that my significance is based on who Christ says I am.

I no longer desire to keep my spiritual life private because Jesus heals me, everyday. He heals me from the profound effects of my own sin, and the sin of others. His love has carried me through dark times; has lavishly repaid "the years the locusts have eaten-" (Joel 2:25) and has given me joy that can only come from walking through life with Him. 

In a Day

Quiet - She can be found clicking away on the big brown couch at any given time. She chooses games that I would've never chosen: Vocabulary quizzes and strategic art/building games. The Lord has given her talents he never gave to me. I love that about her.

Elbow Grease -  Cleaning out the pantry takes twice as long now that every event is made into a photo shoot. Which is kind of ironic, since a blogger is always taking photos of everything. But when you are trying to learn a new camera its ridiculous. I had to clean the flour and dust off those canisters too. They haven't been that shiny for a long, long, time.

Life Lessons - These sparkly shoes sat under the sofa for days. In my mind I decided to count how many would pass before someone (anyone) else would pick them up and put them away. It didn't work out so well for me. I soon realized that my silver shoe rage wasn't so much about teaching a lesson as it was proving a point: Why do I always have to be the one picking things up, or reminding someone else to do it? I selfishly kept bitterness in the deeps of my heart... until, with the cumbersome sound of my own whining voice, I realized I was a lot like that shoe-- sparkly on the outside... but smelly deep within. I snapped the picture as a reminder: Parenting is about training, not setting up traps to point out someone's failures.

Early Mornings - I get up pretty early...way before the sun or the roosters. There is something about being outside before dawn has broken, when the soft yellow lights of neighboring windows mix with the blues in the sky.

Laughter- Several times a week we crank up the music (kids choice) and spend thirty minutes cleaning up the casa. This means the chores are often mixed with lots of moonwalking and lip syncing. My part is to tell them to hurry up! and work more! play less! and generally act like I'm letting them get away with having fun while working. The truth is, their hard work is of huge help to me. But occasionally, when I'm in another room, and they think I don't know that they're lip syncing to Michael Jackson in the other room, I'm gathering evidence while they are unaware.

Born Dirty

Last weekend I ran in a race with friends old and new. 

When I signed up for the Dirty Girl Mud Run in early January I had envisioned running in warm, late March, temperatures--the perfect start to the spring. Reality wasn't as idyllic, dictating temperatures near freezing, with clouds that threatened rain.

 Born Dirty wasn't deterred; we were ready to face the course rain or shine! Heat or chill!

It was an especially fine day for me. I was "competing" in a race I never imagined I'd run, but I also had two worlds collide. The team this year included dear friends Elisa and Meg. 

Meg and I knew each other back-in-the-day when we both lived in Southern Arizona. We had grown up in the same church, and have been friends for over 20 years. She moved to NC four or five years ago. Every time we get together I can't believe how incredible it is that we live in the same city! I feel so blessed to have this dear friend back in my life. 

Elisa, my running partner (and living proof that God answers prayer), also ran in the race. When I moved to NC eight years ago, I prayed God would send me just one true friend. Within hours of arriving I met Elisa at a park, and we've been amigos ever since. I cannot express what her friendship has meant to me over the years. 

So to have both of these precious gals with me was the sweetest gift. 

AND, as if that wasn't enough... there were five MORE friends that have been sent along the way. Some of the other team mates are gals I've known over the years through homeschooling. The rest are friends I've come to meet at our new church, and hope to get to know better in the coming days. All are fun, amazing women.

Now, for the race itself... it was AWESOME! I did things that I never thought I would do... scaled walls, climbed ropes, ate mud... I would totally do it again! As a matter of fact, I've already got it on the calendar... March 23! Who's in?

Benediction: A Vocal Expression of Goodness

... losing an hour, but gaining much more... I get more accomplished in the darkness of morning than the darkness of night.

... the smell of The Mister's aftershave... long after he's left for work.

... the Little Amaryllis That Could

... wrinkles, I'm not gonna fight 'em.

... tulips : 30 for $10

... matching t-shirts, seven friends, one Mud Run, a really cool team name to monogram.

... robins lunching in the yard.

...a sunny weekend to prepare the garden.

...have i mentioned tulips?

...these, my benediction.

Spring in the Desert

While my friends and family were enjoying 70-80 degree weather back home in Southern Arizona, I created cacti in the snow.

Well, I wasn't actually in the snow, but we had three weekends in a row when the weather got wintery and the city shut down. That's what happens in the south. We see a few snowflakes on the horizon and we batten down the hatches. Truth be told, this doesn't trouble me. There is nothing I like more than being in my office with hot beverages, wool felt, and a wide open schedule on a cold and snowy day.

I had had these little cacti in mind before Christmas for my nieces. But I smashed my finger in early December pulling the ligament away from the bone, rendering my left hand useless for nearly two months. Unfortunately, it wasn't so bad I couldn't do dishes or fold laundry, but fine motor skills were completely out of question. So the sweet succulents were just an idea in my mind.

I always love the creative process, but there are always bits I don't love: tucking tails of left over yarn, cutting fabric, trimming string, etc. Not so with these little guys. They were enjoyable from start to finish.

On a completely unrelated matter, I may have mentioned once or twice that I have been the Cookie Manager for our large Girl Scout Troop. Thankfully I have two other amazing gals who have shared this Herculean task. The numbers are staggering: 68 girls, 11,416 packages, 34 booths, $39,956 worth of cookies. And we still have this weekend for sales, and next week for paperwork and close out. After that it's time to rest...

Or head into the office once again... I may need to sew me some desert.

Signs of Spring...

I feel like the corner was turned this week. Although its still cold, March brings the promise of sunny weather and pretty things. Suddenly, as if overnight when the calendar flipped, everything's decided to stretch and arise. Thank goodness for tulips and Camellia's. They sure make February manageable...

The Daffie's are happily in their glory now. Popping up in brilliant color when most the world still wears her brown. This year their yellow faces look especially nice in my new green vase. A dear friend gave me that vase for my fortieth birthday. The the short blue piece is also one of my favorites. When I was married nearly 18 years ago my friends threw a wedding shower for The Mister and I, those vases were filled with flowers at each table setting. Such good memories...

A few days ago I was in the garage looking through my gardening supplies trying to make a list of what I might need for the garden this year. I came across some bulbs that had been left in the rain last summer. I'd forgotten that I had threw them in a paper bag, hoping that they might dry out and sleep. When I found them last week, all but one were lifeless and empty. So I took the lone survivor, put some beach stones I collected in an old piece of glass, gave her some water and waited. I think she might be an Amaryllis. We shall see...

Last weekend, as I planted tiny seeds of oregano, basil, chive, and cilantro, Kona sat at my side and watched it rain. Already the basil is springing to life. Ah... soon all will be green. And I will have my hands in the warm and fragrant earth. It's gonna be good...

Veggies

Warm Quinoa and Roasted Veg Salad

I have a million-and-one things I'd love to write about... but I only have time for veggies today.

Several weeks ago,  I was talking to a gal who mentioned she was a vegetarian. I asked her if she had a good recipe that would make Cauliflower palatable.

Actually, what I might have said was, When I get to heaven I'm gonna ask God why he invented cauliflower. There MUST be purpose in those white stalky vegetables without any taste, but I certainly don't know what it is...  Oh, and don't tell me cauliflower makes a good substitute for mashed potatoes, cuz I just don't believe it.

She was gracious when she asked if I had ever roasted cauliflower. Of course I hadn't, veggies are meant to be steamed right?  She said to preheat the oven to 450, toss some cauliflower in a little olive oil, sprinkle with salt  and pepper to taste,  spread on a cookie sheet with parchment and place on the highest rack of your oven. Roast for 10-15 minutes, serve, and watch your family eat it til it's gone.

Hmm, I said. Not quite convinced.

But I figured a girl whose diet is 85% veggies probably knows what she's talking about, so I came home and did what she said*, and that cauliflower was DELICIOUS. Even The Mister, who only consumes the vegetables I serve to be polite exclaimed, "These are good!"

The next night I did the same thing with broccoli... same story. Even the kids ate it willingly.

Now I cook ALL veggies this way: broccoli, butternut squash, sweet peas, green beans, zucchini, yellow squash, carrots, peppers... the list goes on and on. I had always roasted potatoes this way, but had never thought to roast other veggies.

Our funny Butternut is next...

One of my favorite lunches is to cook quinoa in advance and keep it in the fridge. Mixing it with fresh veg, basil, lemon, salt pepper and feta cheese makes a yummy cold lunch. But today I wanted to try it hot, so I roasted broccoli, sweet peppers, yellow squash and zucchini, mixed it with warm quinoa and sprinkled with balsamic vinegar and feta... yummy.

*I added a little onion powder to the roasting mix, and when I'm feeling a little crazy i've used Lawry's season salt instead of salt and pepper.

Fabric Bandages Tutorial

On Valentine's Day I had an unfortunate moment when I lost my mind: I put my finger too close to the foot of my embroidery machine. Thankfully, the guard around the needle kept my finger relatively safe. Unfortunately, the metal automatic threading mechanism and the needle foot come within millimeters of one another, and at amazing speed (600 stitches/min.)

My poor finger didn't have a chance.

In a bit of an ironic twist, my friend Amber had just posted on Facebook the day before that she had sewn her finger in her embroidery machine. I will admit, I kind of chuckled as I quickly hit 'like'. Who would sew her finger in the machine?

Pride goes before the fall. 

Soon Amber and I were swapping sewing wounds, and I noticed she had a cool Super Woman band aide. Amber pretty much IS Super Woman, so it is entirely appropriate. All I had was a brown ugly bandage, which just wouldn't do.

So I suddenly had a great idea! Why not try to make a few that would be pretty. Now I'm almost excited for the next time I do something stupid that requires wearing a bandage.

Here are the directions so you can make some pretty bandages too:

Fabric Bandages

1. Find some scrap fabric... I used 100% cotton.

2. Gather Supplies: fabric bandages of all sizes, spray adhesive, parchment paper, a cookie sheet, and your scraps from above.

3. Iron your scraps so they are wrinkle free. Place scraps on parchment line cookie sheet, wrong side up. Take outside and spray with adhesive.

4. Press bandages, top-side down, to fabric. (I used a scrapbooking scorer. But anything will do.)

5. Give the glue about 30-60 minutes to dry.

6. Trim bandages to size!

Tip: If you cut bandages before the glue dries it will make your scissors sticky. Letting the glue dry helps. When finished use a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol and clean the scissor blades. The glue will come right off. 

Voila!

So, I learned four things last week:

1. Never try to adjust fabric in the hoop while the machine is moving.
2. Cloth diapers (for monogramming) make great tourniquets.
3. Making pretty bandages is fun, and requires nothing more dangerous than scissors.
4. Friends can make painful moments joyful!

Friday Five: Things (and people!) I Love

I'm about to name this trio Peace, Love and Joy. Quite frankly, their loveliness has been an encouragement this week.

I was able to spend a little time in the office to make a baby gift for a friend's new grand-twins. Preemie items take very little time, and making these in doubles made me giddy. I love me a baby. Can you imagine? two babies at once? Baby heaven! (and all my friends who are moms of multiples just rolled their eyes.)

I'm still on Cookie Detail. Things are beginning to slow down just a bit. Only 3 more weeks to go!

I didn't take this picture, I just stole it off the web. These are my parents on Valentine's Day. I'm profoundly grateful for them.

Last but not least (and this list isn't exhaustive,) Kona has also learned to smile when she she sees me with my camera. Now that's a good trick! She's a good ole' dog.

Happy Friday.

God Knows

Walking through fields planted and sowed.
Beauty from ashes.
Years of laboring, as if on our own.

We stood, shaky legged, as ones given over,
Not chosen. Set apart.
Yet, abundantly, we've lived in this space.
Waiting and praying for right to reign.
In the end, we felt it never came.

Chapters close as quick as they open.
A weekend, a phone call, and it was done.
Pages filled from then til now,
have oft been hard, and lonely.
Though the passing of years has softened the blow,
Sorrow sporadically comes.

Looking through lenses that filter the view
There is one sure thing I remember:
We limped along as best we knew how
gathering strength just being together.
Each always worried for someone besides.
Traveling partners, without many words.
Our silence no secret:
We won't give each other up.

In the deeps of my heart Right already reigns.
This hard course was meant for us to walk,
Though we'd have picked an easier way.
We stand at the end, weary and worn,
But stronger in truth and in love.

In our pain we were blinded to see:
Right, long ago, won this battle.

God Knows.... was always there.

Long ago, in pain and in sorrow,
the Truth set us free.
And we stand, not as ones given over,
But one grafted in. Chosen. Mercifully set apart.
Not because we stand on our own,
For the Man of Sorrows holds us up.
"By His wounds we are healed."

(Isaiah 53)

Little Gifts

In the course of this week I've been given little gifts: Unexpected free time to make bread. A dozen eggs- fresh from the farm. Cut flowers from the garden of a friend... Smallish offerings I didn't know I needed, but in the receiving encouragement reigns. Never underestimate the power of a little gift. xo