glow.

one afternoon, i came home to find this inexplicable glow spilling into our space. it lasted minutes, only changing so subtly that i could not perceive that it had indeed shifted until it was completely gone and dark.

so often this is how i see God move, instruct and direct in my life.  as a sunrise or sunset, He spills forth in such subtle increments, that i really cannot see a change until dark or light has suddenly arrived.  this may not be how He works, but simply my stunted perception.  and truthfully, i am grateful that He at least teaches me to see that.

sick days.

a cold keeps me indoors these days, yet the cold yields a delicate display of the ornate over our window sill. snow fell all day yesterday.  the intricacies of a scientific God, praising Him as each water molecule attaches to another to form an ever-changing, never-repeating pattern.  these are the tiny melodies sung in the dead of winter that are drowned out by the swelling of spring's symphony in later months.  what a joy to see such beauty in the passing of the day.

what will rise.

lately, i've been making a simple bread at home (recipe here). inspired by a friend who forages for wild mushrooms in the forest preserves and parks of chicago, and who one night, shared a loaf of bread made with onions, local wild mushrooms, and asiago cheese perfectly crusted on top, i've been making more and more bread of my own. bread-making, ancient as it is, never ceases to slow me down as i wait for what will rise.

video found here, at kinfolk.

vulnerability and what it means to be wholehearted.

one of the best ideas i've heard in a while - the concept and theory of wholeheartedness, shared by brene brown, phd, from the university of houston in texas. found via donald miller's blog with his notes here.

come autumn.

nothing inspires me more than creation, particularly when it is shifting between seasons, settling into yet another pattern, one that is familiar yet fresh and new each year.  invigorating as it is, change inherently involves the deadening of a thing and the subsequent coming forth of the living.


*images taken in and around starved rock park in illinois.

at home.

autumn.

fast forward from last spring to the present season - autumn - and much has changed in our lives. so much so, that i still feel my head spinning from the whirlwhind that was this summer. a brief recap:

:: in may, andrew graduated with his masters in psychology and studied for and passed his licensing exam.

:: in june, i graduated with my masters in nursing.

:: in july, i studied for and passed my licensing exam to become a full-fledged nurse.

:: since last april, andrew & i fretted, cried, prayed, agonized, and prayed some more as we began the long process of applying for jobs. with a couple of emotional exceptions (mostly agony), that process continues - in understanding and trust that the Lord has a plan.

:: in june, andrew began a new job as a therapist for families and children involved in the department of child and family services...tough stuff.

:: aug 1st, we left our 400-sq foot apartment behind. our third move in two years, and perhaps the most physically grueling - third floor with no elevator. eternal thanks to the friends that sweated that one with us. my joints are still aching.

:: at the end of august, after weeks of interviews, waiting and let downs, i gratefully started a new job as a nurse. with that, the blessing of relief for andrew & me...and the collective sigh of our simultaneous exhale as we released the tension of the past several months.

:: in august, a & i packed all our summer fun into a 2-week-span including a wisconsin backpacking trip, a visit to Granny in florida, and my cousin's aussie-texan wedding in san antonio.

and these are merely the high points - the tangible bullet points that we can point back to and say that happened.

now, as life tends to do when the gush of summer's flow lessens and trickles into autumn, things are slowing down. and the coming season of dormancy welcomes me with the opportunity for reflection.

right now, life is good. we're still in the midst of figuring things out - always will be - but God has taken care of us these past few months and years of grad school in big and little ways we weren't expecting. our family and our friends have too.

anyways, that's all for now. today, both andrew and i had the day off. i stayed home, i baked bread, i went to the grocery store. i did no homework or research or studying. outside, the leaves fell and so did the rain. it was peaceful.

and in our hearts, i know andrew and i will always be 2poorgradstudents.