Today I feel...

blinded by grace

Building the Kingdom

Truth:
Christ is the Supreme Being and the Primary Relationship in my life. And my life is all about building His Kingdom and spreading His Gospel and reflecting His glory.

It doesn't always make sense to me, this kingdom building.

It's not built with bricks and mortar and means of human strength. It's built in quietness and faithfulness, in the realm of the unseen. It's built in emotions felt and wrestled with and surrendered; through questions left unanswered and trust that carries through. It's built through relational highs and lows, ebbs and flows; by small, hidden things like a husband and wife working through conflict, and a mother teaching her son how to sweep up crumbs off the floor, and a girl decided whether or not to send that e-mail or share that story.

But that's how God works, strange as it may seem. Because God is not like us, and His ways are not like our ways, and His spirit moves with mystery and beauty through paths that no man can trace. This is the way of the God I worship, and the God I serve.

So I walk before the God of sweet mystery and faithfulness, the One who guides, not by means of logic or reason or comprehension, but by obedience to His Spirit and submission to His will. He knows my strengths and weaknesses. He knows where I need to be bent, where I need to be broken, and where I need to be bound up. He knows how to best build His kingdom.

He holds the world, and He holds my heart. He is kind and gentle, and completely trustworthy.

So... I have six brothers...

So... I have six brothers. Yes, you read that correctly. Six. It's crazy and amazing, and never, ever, ever boring. As I write this, I have one brother laying on his back on the floor of my office with his head squashed against the glass door, trying to cool off, and the other is lounging on the couch in a basketball hoodie, with a tiara on his head.

Like I said, never, ever boring.

One of my goals for this year is to do at least one photoshoot of each of my siblings over the course of the year. I started with a group shoot of all the boys. And I think that I chose the coldest day of the year to do it. My hands went numb within five seconds. Yes, I'm a southern wuss, but... it was cold!!

Anyway... without further ado, allow me to introduce... my brothers.



Peter, age 22 | Taylor, age 17 | Carter, age 14 | Sean, age 13 | Colin, age 12 | Jedidiah, almost 8


These are all Grandpa's old hats. All of them.




I LOVE Jedi's face in this one.


Classic, Tay. Classic.


I'm a fan of the shadows.






Oh, those hats.


Brothers. They have fun together.






Yeah. They have fun.

Today I feel...

full of quiet thoughts and little secrets

snow fall

It's snowing here in Virginia. Fluffy white flakes gently floating down from the sky, covering the ground and the trees and the houses, transforming "normal life" into something of wonder.

It snowed all day long, and I've loved every minute of it.



Snow that gives Dad a rare Saturday home from work. Brothers absorbed in books, not video games. The gentle hum of Mom's sewing machine in the room above my head. The delicate flavors of Darjeeling tea with milk and sugar. Worship with one sister, hugs from another. Hand sewing under warm blankets. Chili in the crock pot. A fire in the wood stove. Flannel pjs.

Snow falling, falling, falling.
Sweet peace. Sweet love. Sweet truth. Sweet home.



I love the sweetness, gentle stillness, and peace that comes with a snowfall.
I love the sound of children's happy laughter ringing out among the trees, echoing against the snow.

But do you know what I love the most about snowfall?

I love snow because it reminds me of grace— gently falling, swiftly falling, covering all of my insufficiency with untouched purity and holiness.

Ummm... behind...

Okay, so I'm behind on posting. I spent this last weekend dogsitting for some friends, and couldn't access Internet at their house. I'm just now getting back into the swing of my crazy life. Scheduled posting will resume shortly.

Until it does, here's a look at who I spent my weekend with:



Mickey is a "Goldendoodle" (half Golden Retriever, half Standard Poodle), a large dog that thinks he's a lap dog, and wants to be treated like one. He reminds me of an adolescent boy— not quite adjusted to his size and strength, absolutely oozing with energy, rather emotional, and tends to invade personal space.

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