I've Counted Down To This

We have been SO BUSY lately. Good busy. The kind of busy that includes family in town, going out of town to visit family, planting flowers, going to the beach, working, working, working, cooking, cleaning, and vacuuming out vehicles.

It's all good stuff.
But there's a lot of it.

One of my favorite things about the way Michael and I match up is that we both need time at home, to just chill. It's how we reconnect with each other, and how we both recharge.

That's exactly what we are doing today, and I'm salivating over the thought of doing nothing, all day long.

Know what I mean?

Nowhere to go.
Nothing or no one to take anywhere.
Nothing to buy.
Or wash.
Or do.

It's an amazing feeling. It's Saturdays like this I know my friends who have kids, miss.
The 6:00am-all-you-hear-is-the-ceiling-fan-spinning.

Aaaahhh.

I finally cleaned that ceiling fan, by the way.

Cheers, you guys. I miss connecting with you all. I'm praying once I have a second to sit still, I can be filled up, and have something worthwhile to say again.

For now, I will do nothing.
And I'm not sorry about that.
I kind of love it.

Wishing you a day of nothing, too.

On Blooming

The thought of blooming is all over the place, if you read Christian women's stuff.
I get it.
It's the symbolism, right?

Something is planted.
Watered.
Then, after a time, it comes to life.

It's a beautiful picture, really.
The imagery of it all.

The flowers are really pretty.
They're colorful, and they smell nice and they make people happy.

None of the "bloom" stuff comes with pictures of dirt, though, does it?
But those beautiful flowers, before they get to be beautiful flowers, they're just measly little seeds, buried in a bunch of dirt.

I feel like that, sometimes.
Like just a little seed.
Under the weight of a bunch of dirt.
I want to grow.
I have great desires to be tall and full of life and beautiful.
But I can hardly breathe under this dirt.

Do you ever feel that way?

I was thinking about blooming when I was writing this morning at Starbucks. I was thinking about how often times, I look around and I am so quick to be jealous.

I'll compare my seed-in-the-dirt to someone else's fully bloomed flowers. I think that's more beautiful than what I have.

I want a baby to take to a strawberry patch.
I want a house with a wrap-around porch.
I want to be an author and a speaker and a professional blog-conference-goer.

But, I'll spend another Mother's day getting a card from Brokaw.
In my condo.
And I'll work overnights in a TV newsroom.

It's okay, though. Because these dreams inside of me are seeds. They are being watered, and one day, they will bloom! There will be new life. New beauty. A sweet aroma.

I can feel it coming.
In January, as we looked ahead to 2014, Michael and I decided our theme for the year would be "Restoration."

"The God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast."
-1 Peter 5:10

It's happening.
The restoration.
I have a renewed desire to be alone with my God, to lean into what He's dreaming for my life.
To trust that He loves me just like He says he does.

Almost every Sunday in our church, at least one song has to do with the resurrection. New life. I love that.

I'll bloom one of these days.
For now, I'll drink the water and just get ready for it.

And you know what? I think that's a beautiful thing.

So friends, if you're here in the dirt with me, give yourself a little grace. We'll bloom. When it's time.

Cooking is a Big Deal

For the last two weeks, I have not been cooking. I haven't made any meal plans. I haven't prepped anything. This is crazy to me, because part of the rhythm of my life for the past few years has been planning meals, chopping vegetables, cooking in batches, and portioning everything out into little plastic containers for myself and my husband.

But, y'all. I am now a weekend-only cook. It's crazy.

I love to cook. When we first got married, I dove right into learning how to bake and cook, and I loved it. I was making bread left and right. I liked to bake muffins on Saturday morning. Sundays, I would pre-chop the veggies we were going to use for the week. It was newlywed bliss.

Life got a little busier, and all of the baking made us a little bigger, so I adjusted.

I subscribed to a couple of meal-planning services like Fresh20 and eMeals, and it was fun buying the groceries and doing the busy work, without having to come up with dishes and sides.

Somewhere along the way, it stopped being really fun and started being a chore. It wasn't that I didn't love it, it was just that every waking moment I was in my house I was either taking care of someone or some plant or animal, chopping or cooking food, or cleaning the house. I lost my groove.

I fell asleep thinking about whether I thawed the meat I'd need when I woke up, so that I could double-cook on a Tuesday.

It was crazy.

Well.
It's better now.
And this is even crazier: I am not cooking!
(insert control freak panic attack here)
Michael and his home health aide are. And they are doing an amazing job.

At first, I didn't like the idea. I cooked up some crazy notion in my head that if they did it, that meant that I was a bad wife. Wives are supposed to cook for their husbands, you know. I drummed up thoughts that I was putting off my responsibilities or being lazy. Michael told me that was ridiculous.

He told me he enjoys it. And he does it with a sweet servant's heart. And it's so cute how proud he is of his dishes. I'm so grateful he has a willing aide who enjoys this kind of work.

The first week, I was a nervous wreck, trying to control everything from the internal temperature of chicken, to which container it was in. Insanity. I'm weird.

But last week, I gave in, gave up control, and just ate. And I ate good.

Taste and see that the Lord is good, y'all! He just provided for me out of nowhere. I feel blessed and loved and full and grateful. Because planning, prepping and cooking every single meal a family eats (even when it's just a family of two people) is no small deal. It's a big deal. It's a lot of work and it takes a lot of time.

I wonder what I'll be buying at the grocery store this week. I'm excited.