road trip

I'm sure just about everyone reading this knows the state flower of Texas is the bluebonnet. And that Lady Bird Johnson sowed the seeds of wildflowers throughout the state, along highways and byways, and everywhere in between. But until you see them in person, in solid blue patches that look like pools of water or covering a field for as far as you can see, you just have no idea how breathtakingly beautiful the bluebonnet is.

Our weekend road trip was supposed to take us ultimately to Kerrville, home of Great-Aunt Ruth. Kerrville is out in the Hill Country about an hour west of San Antonio and about 4 hours away from home. However, Aunt Ruth had a suspected case of shingles this week (yikes!) so we had to alter our plans.

First stop, Brenham. About an hour and a half away is the original home of Blue Bell Creameries which has been around since 1907. After passing the retirement home (we made a reservation for Papa), we took the tour of the creamery, watching the ice cream squirt into cartons and wind its way through the freezer and into packaging. It was just long enough for the kids at about 40 minutes and concludes with a scoop of ice cream of your choice. Dutch Chocolate for the girl and Daddy, Cookies n' Cream for the boy, and Blackberry Cobbler for me. I shared a few bites with William who was ecstatic. (Phones and cameras not allowed inside so no pictures!)

Then it was off to Austin through the off-and-on rain but it didn't damper my excitement over seeing the blue bonnets in person. Incredible. Rebekah wanted to walk through them for miles. Ben wanted to pick up rocks from the gravel drive. If I could only get my kids to all look at the camera at the same time we'd be in business! Still, our first annual bluebonnet picture wasn't completely awful and the view was amazing!

The weather prevented us from doing much in Austin but I did enjoy seeing another Texas city and one that is entirely different from Houston or San Antonio. It's very hilly, hippie, and eclectic. I can't wait to go back and explore the trails and the wildflower gardens, the shopping, and all the history and art museums. Our hotel was in the middle of a great shopping area and all I ended up doing was running into Old Navy for 20 minutes while D occupied the kiddos. Still--a dressing room by myself and leaving with a few new shirts and a pair of shorts (for my mom uniform), not too shabby. The kids enjoyed swimming in the indoor pool and seeing the swans and fish in the lobby and I enjoyed W's nap time by reading a great book and watching HGTV in silence!

We picked Austin for our weekend plans because we saw that Randall Goodgame, one half of Slugs, Bugs, and Lullabies, was going to be playing in town. It turned out that he was the entertainment for a church's spring festival which meant free inflatables to bounce on, free lunch, and free music. Granted, D and I sang along more than our kids who were either bored or star-struck. R refused to go up and meet Randall after the show (she said she would if it were Jill Phillips) but B got to say Hi to him outside the men's room and tell Randall that "Tractor, Tractor" was his favorite song.

A quiet ride home, sleeping in our own beds at night, and a lazy Sunday topped off by homemade chicken nuggets, cheddar-Parmesan macaroni and cheese, and chocolate dipped strawberries for dinner. Aaaah! What a weekend!

sowing

He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Psalm 1

It had been a particularly bad week. One of those where I was wondering if you could send kindergarteners to military school. Spring Break and a week of empty days loomed before me. I was not excited about spending a week with my children and I’m pretty sure--had they been asked--they would have said the same. The lack of fruit in anyone’s heart, including my own, discouraged me. Why weren’t my children better behaved? Why were words so harsh, tempers quick, and actions unkind? Why did selfishness and strife reign in our house instead of gratitude and peace?

But God (wonderful verses begin that way) intervened. Gorgeous, sunny weather. Refreshingly cool and breezy air. Everywhere we looked was green and new. Spring in Texas is beautiful and God’s work of regeneration and restoration was on display in His creation and also my heart. All things were indeed being made new.

We spent as much of our days out of doors with dirt, shovels, plants, and seeds. I attacked our weedy, overgrown garden with ferociousness, yanking at stubborn, ingrown plants that produced nothing and did not “add to the beauty,” to borrow a sentiment from Sara Groves. The kids and I ordered the chaos together, planning the patches of herbs and vegetables. We examined each type of seed and marveled at the possibility and potential existing within. What an act of faith to take that tiny seed, bury it, sprinkle some water and then—in expectation, in hope—wait. Wait for growth, for beauty, for fruit.

I carefully took out a few bean plant seeds that I had started with the kids in wet paper towels and plastic sandwich bags. A week ago, they were hard, brown-spotted kernels. Now, their fragile tendrils poked out of the shell. Rebekah and I placed them gingerly in the dirt, me reminding her that the roots grow down and the rest of the plant will start growing up. And it struck me: roots come first. Long before I see any evidence or activity above the surface, roots are reaching out for nourishment. Just because I cannot see anything does not mean the plant is dormant or the seeds are duds.

This journey of parenthood, and of my own walk of sanctification, is a walk of faith. I can be confident that “he who began a good work will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” I need to be rooted in my Savior who supplies all my needs. I need to weed out the bad, the unproductive, and the ugly from my life. My seedlings need to be rooted in the good soil of Scripture, doctrine, instruction and watered daily. And one day, by God’s good work, I will see a harvest of righteousness.

Easter Weekend

A lovely first Easter weekend in Texas. The weather was cooperative as the rain stayed away and the temperatures were bearable (a DJ on the radio today said tongue-in-cheek, "If you're new to Houston, it's like this all the time.") My parents were in town for the weekend and I managed to put my dad to work installing a beautiful--and non-leaky--kitchen faucet and sink. We took them to dinner at The Waterway (Goose's Acre for macaroni and cheese with scallions, bacon, and tomatoes--sooo good!) where we walked and ran and climbed on everything, fed the ducks, and stared at the bizarrely costumed teenagers wandering around. (We wanted to ask them what was going on but were slightly afraid as well). Isn't R getting so big kid lately? She likes to tell me she looks like a teenager, especially when she pulls her bangs to the side.

We visited our first Texas state park in Huntsville (home of Sam Houston and the four-story white statue of him as well as a huge state prison) on Saturday where cousins were camping, hiking a bit and getting the little dude's feet in the water. Spring in this part of Texas is beautiful: the trees are full, the roadsides blooming, and the bugs haven't appeared yet. Sunday was a little egg hunt at church, worship, and a yummy, yummy dinner in the pretty dining room with my good china, out of its packing pouches for the first time.

My pictures aren't so great as I think I had the flash turned off for some reason and didn't fix until too late. Oh well.

In two weeks we'll visit Aunt Ruth in Kerrville out in the hill country, passing through Brenham, home of Blue Bell ice cream on the way. Should be beautiful!

lovin'

--The boys' emerging linguistic skills


I could listen to Little Dude's babbling all day. And I'm so glad he's vocally leaps ahead of where his big brother was at this age. Makes me hopeful we won't have quite the delay and a bit tentative of what another talkative person in the house will bring. Right now I'll enjoy it thoroughly.


Big Brother's singing is hilarious. Mostly he just repeats a phrase over and over. "Jingle Bells" and "The First Noel" got on my nerves this holiday season as a result. I also laugh at how he head bangs so much as he's singing just about any song that he forgets to sing. When he sings the ABC's he skips four and five letters at a time.

B's other funny thing lately is his friend, "Brian." That's "Brian" with quotation marks because that's the name of his Winnie-the-Pooh (not, apparently, "Winnie" or "Pooh," which he adamantly told a lady at a hotel over Christmas vacation). "Brian" has a friend "BJ" who I think is our Kermit the Frog (which is almost as old as I am) and a sister named "Emily" (don't know who she is.) They have all sorts of adventures like going to California for work because they have two meetings. Lately, Brian and BJ have also become alter egos, a way for B to project what he wants to happen. This week Brian and BJ's mom was going to let them have M&M's. They also told their mom "no nap" today, Ben said. That did not happen in B's world.

--The Princess and Skippyjohn Jones

R singing the little songs from our newest literary acquisition--Skippyjohn Jones: Lost in Spice--cracks us up. The book came with the author reading the story as well (which we heard several times on the way home from Florida) and she imitates the voices exactly. I love those books.


--Bread


I'm lovin' experimenting with two new cookbooks including Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day. I've made three versions so far--herbed boule, a light wheat, and challah. The idea is that you mix up the dough (usually enough for three to four loaves at a time), let it rest on the counter for a few hours, and then put it in the fridge. You can then bake off a loaf or more at a time for about a week, never spending more than about 5 minutes doing something with it. Plus, there are so many things you can make with the basic doughs including cinnamon rolls with the challah dough which we will be doing this weekend. This isn't baby weight; it's bread weight.

more good words

when my world is shaking

heaven stands

when my heart is breaking

i never leave your hands

I had caught a beautiful little song on the radio a few days ago. The artist's name though eluded me; I recognized the voice but couldn't place it and the station never identified her. Finally, though, I caught the song and the name of the artist and realized I knew it because I had downloaded her album months ago! (I don't know what's crazier--I liked a song on Christian radio or that they played something good.)

Through a Rabbit Room promotion, I listened to JJ Heller's CD Painted Red. This was months ago and I played it on my computer while I wrote and worked. But I forgot about it! (I'm so not used to the digital age! If I was cooler and more adept, I would post the song as well as the lyrics.) Heller has a bit of Sandra McCracken quality to her voice and a simple, acoustic sound to the instrumentation. Nothing is overly produced. Her voice and lyrics come through clear and unfiltered.

i have unanswered prayers

i have trouble i wish wasn't there

i have asked a thousand ways

that you would take my pain away

you would take my pain away

i am trying to understand

how walk this weary land

make the straight the paths that crooked lie

oh lord, before these feet of mine

oh lord, before these feet of mine

when you walked upon the earth

you healed the broken, lost, and hurt

i know you hate to see me cry

one day you will set all things right

yeah, one day you will set all things right

Amazing grace and providence, that this week, when I needed this words, I heard them and was reminded yet again, that the hands that shaped the world hold me as well.

So here you go, dear readers: JJ Heller has both the AP & Co Rabbit Room thumbs up and the AmyFlem seal of approval. And I'm going to burn a CD right now so I have it in my minivan--where God speaks to me often in silence and in song.

Settling

Often when one moves, physically, like we have done, one hears the well-intentioned question, "Are you settled?" I usually answer in the positive considering I had boxes unpacked within a week or so, pictures on the walls within a month, and even new paint in some rooms before the summer was over. I can find my way to the grocery store, Target and Home Depot, I'm beginning to navigate the mall, and I have my favorite restaurants already. We have a school and a church and friends. By all accounts, we are settled.


But I sort of dislike that term--settled. For me, it conjures up images of sediments and silt sinking in a glass, falling to the bottom, lying where they land. That's passive and defeating.


I prefer the question I was asked a few weeks ago: "How is your family adjusting?"


James begins his practical epistle, "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds" (1:2). According to my MacArthur Study Bible, the Greek for "trials" here means anything that interrupts your life. Like, say, a move halfway across the country?


Trials, various and diverse, interrupt our lives. They come without notice, they come when we don't want them, they just come. We are uncomfortable at the least. And, sometimes, the trial brings blinding, searing pain.

Adjust: from the Latin ad meaning "to" and juxtare meaning "close"--to put close to.

Adjust is a verb more active than simply settling. I am required to do something to "adjust." I will not be the same person once I have made adjustments. There is continuous tweaking, polishing, renovating of my heart. The trials I face illuminate the places in me that need the most change.

The result? Perseverance, a complete faith, maturity (James 1:3-4). My discomfort makes me dependent on Him. Adjustments put me closer to the One I look to. Adjustments in my posture, my position, my perspective shape me more and more like my Savior. In the potter's hand, the clay is molded and shaped into something both beautiful and useful. That can't be done without making more than a few adjustments.

One of the Good Things

Some time in these past few crazy months I had a birthday. It was sorta a biggie--the 3-0. We celebrated over a weekend with Texas Sheet Cake, a steak dinner prepared by my hubby, and a beautiful pearl necklace from Rita Creech's Galleria.

My other birthday present was Jill Phillip's latest CD, The Good Things. Jill is a perennial favorite in our house; at least one of her albums is in a CD player in the house or car at all times. I was first introduced to her music through Andrew Peterson's project Behold the Lamb of God on which she sings the hauntingly beautiful "Labor of Love" and then hearing her in concert where we heard some of her own music. I was hooked.

From last Christmas until our road trip to Texas in May, Kingdom Come, an album of hymns, played nonstop in the minivan. "Praise to the Lord the Almighty" became our "good morning" song as we drove to school. I practically wept out "Have Thine Own Way Lord" each time it played as I struggled with our impending move and drastic change in our life. Sang with joyful smiles "Hosanna" and "Christ the Lord is Risen Today" around Easter.

I switched out Kingdom Come for Nobody's Got It All Together on the drive out to Houston and needed to remind myself of that very fact as I faced my insecurities in a new place, new neighborhood, and new church. I listened to Writing on the Wall and affirmed that no matter what came my way "Still Is My Soul." There was a song, a phrase, a melody for all the events in my life and thoughts in my mind. Her songs ring of truth worked out by a wrestling heart, just like mine.

Which brings me to The Good Things. This album, more than her others, is deeply personal. The conversational songs are written out of life experiences in friendships, marriage, and parenting. And the sound is a bit of a departure from her other more folky albums. There is a tension musically in many of the song that reflects the both the messiness and reality of the lyrics. While still highly crafted, complex, and interesting, the songs aren't neat or simple. There's a bit of roughness to them.

"I can’t explain how weak my conviction is/How I can make up my mind but it won’t make a difference/It’s like I am allergic to solutions that would make any sense/Just a moth around a fire
But You’re reaching out your arms of forgiveness/Its your usual response I’m afraid/After all the things I’ve done you love me anyways

I heard Jill sing "All the Good Things" in person at last winter's BTLOG concert, sitting in a row with friends who were walking their own rough roads and knowing that these were good things in our lives because these days are ordained by a good God who does all things for our good and His glory. Again and again, I come back to "Forgive me for my shortsighted look at this world/Where you keep proving that you know what you’re doing" and "I wouldn't have it any other way" from a song about the ups and downs of marriage. One of my favorite aspects of Jill Phillip's music is that she writes songs from and about a woman journeying with God through life, marriage, kids, work. Because, as she closes out the album, "If you look real close you’ll find you’re a lot like me." And those are the kind of songs I need.

And if that sounds at all like you, you'll want to listen to her music too.