We love us some Memories

Memorial Day in my little life always begins at the home of my favorite family, with coffee.  This year, after a good amount of leisurely talking and a little bit of bike riding, we loaded up the car and headed to our annual spot:

the lawn behind the pie tent at the annual 

Boalsburg Memorial Day celebration.

After a little bit of time spent perusing the booths, we settled into the grass and waited for the pie to be judged so that we could purchase it.  And, of course, eat.  

Our grass dwelling is one of my favorite features of M. D., and is always defined by certain things:

 A photo shoot of Heather and me,

 taken by the children,

 where we try to act cool,

but eventually cannot hide the true nature of things.

Then,

there's always some quality time with Kate.

This year's activity involved cheating at Tic-Tac-Toe.

[Guess who won, every time?]

There is always a collection of friends around us, but this year was particularly fun in that I kept running into people I knew, with giant hugs and exclamations of love.

One of my new favorite little friends joined us, 

and demonstrated our mutual affection by baptizing me with grass.

Kate, of course, could not resist this fun, and so ensued hilarity.

As I sat in the beauty of the day and got to know new friends and old, I thanked God for the fullness of my life, for the way He sets the lonely in families, and gives us memories to share.

When we'd had our fill, we packed up our things and headed home, for the next phase of M.D. memories:

The pool!

We dwelt in the sun, the swimming, and the company.

We returned home for couch lounging, leisurely laughing,
pizza, a movie.

And at the end of it all, we smiled and said:

Memories, again.

Amen.

The Giant Surrender

On Friday evening, I found myself relaxing in a giant rocking chair, with a giant sandwich in my hands, and this giant sun setting before my very eyes.  My roommate Sara and I had made our way out to the rambling house that houses our church's offices, set high on a hill, overlooking the valley that is State College.  We sat on the porch,  to spend some time together, to tell each other what had been on our hearts and minds in these recent days, and to pray about it all.  Our friend Katy joined us as the sun sank lower, and together we dwelt in peace.

The fact that peace defined our night is evidence of our giant God, because the things that are on our hearts and minds are large, and looming.  They are the kinds of things that we--in our humanness--have no idea what to do with.  But we came to this place, expecting peace, because we know Whom it is that we came to seek. And so, we prayed.  And so, we dwelt.

Somewhere throughout the evening, someone brought something up that reminded me of something I'd been thinking of recently, and our conversation turned to the topic of:

Surrender.

An ugly word? No!  Because here's what I've been thinking:

There is a difference between surrendering, and giving up.

When you give up, you have no more resources.  You put down everything you've been trying so hard to keep together and--if you're lucky--you walk away.  Your efforts, wasted.  Your trials, for naught.  Your future, tainted by the memory.  Even worse, there could be no future; giving up, in certain cases, means certain death.  You step off the edge, you crash the plane, you walk into the deep water and let yourself go.

But when you surrender, you turn toward the force putting pressure on you, and you say:  Please.

And you give that force authority over you.

Now, depending on who you surrender to, you might find yourself in a sticky situation.  The thought of it doesn't make sense, because surrender can also mean certain death.  It's why you try so hard, it's why you fight as long as you can.

But here's the essence of surrender: You're asking for a re-do, you're asking for your rebellion to be forgotten.  You're taking the chance that someone will have mercy on you, and that you'll make it out alive.  It's your only hope, and hope is not something you're willing to give up.

Giving up means: I have no more hope.  But when you surrender, something inside of you says: I am not ok with that.


Surrender is the last possible fight.  It's the one last shot, the recognition that you need some help, if you're going to survive.

It is the giant paradox that says:  I'll give myself up, in order to save myself.   

And it's the giant paradox that means:  In order to save myself, I have to let you save me.  On your terms.  

You're my only hope.  

As Sara and Katy and I reflected on the places God is asking us to surrender to Him in, we realized that it goes against our nature.  It reminds us that we are not enough, that we don't have it as together as we'd like to think we do.

We realized that surrender to this giant God feels terrifying, because with a blast of breath from His nostrils, He can destroy everything we hold dear.

But, we reminded each other:  this Giant, Terrifying, Holy God is also the One who Loves us.  And He can see how those things that we hold dear are the things that are destroying us.  And He's calling us, in the deep places of our hearts, with the deep reality of His:

I want to set you free.

And so, together we affirmed: You are our only hope, and we surrender, to You.

Because you are so Giant, because you are so Good,
and we belong to you.

Friendly Birthday Fun

Moving into a new house has provided me with much joy over this past year, and here are the top two reasons why:

1)  There is enough space to gather people in, 

and feed them yummy food.

And,

2) It has given me opportunity to get to know people I didn't, 

and learn all about how special God has made them to be.

This weekend, those two things collided as we celebrated Ginger's birthday, in our house, with people we think are pretty great.

With some phenomenal planning by this lovely lady,

we enjoyed laughing and eating together,

 the outdoors,

 each other,

and this adorable guy.

 We showed Ginger how well we know her by getting her her favorite cake,

 and enjoyed it with her.

(I think that's my 'yum' face, though it's hard to know for sure...)

 As the night grew late, we gathered around George and fulfilled Ginger's birthday wish,

to spend time in worship and gratitude for the life God has given to her, for the way that He has blessed us with her presence among us; for who He is and how He loves.

Overall, we simply affirmed:

 Ginger, we're your people.

Hooray!

Hello there, we've been waiting

I'm sure you remember that we have been waiting for the arrival of the newest member of our little family,

and so I'm happy to announce:

He's here!

Just in time for Mother's Day, Harold Aden the Fifth arrived, to be known to those who know and love him as:

Quint.

On the fifth day of little Quint's life, I made my way to meet him,

to spend a Happy Mother's Day with the newest Mama I know,
and with her sweet men.

We lounged in the gentle rhythms of eating, pooping, sleeping, and vitamin-taking that consume little Quint's life at the moment,

enjoying the amazement of his little being,

enjoying the being all together, with good music and good conversation and much overflow of heart.

Yes little one, hello.
We've been waiting, and we're glad you're here.

My special birthday invitation

It's not every day that a child calls you up in the wee hours of the morning before she leaves for school, and says 

'Hey, Lauren?  Will you come to my birthday party and sleep over? And, you're not allowed to talk to my mama!'

But then again, this is not every child.

Being that Kate and I have had a strong bond ever since we first began our piano lessons together when she was a wee 4,  she gets a little frustrated with me on occasion, that I would actually choose to talk to the adults when she is in the room.  

Hence, for her birthday I promised to belong only to her.

I got there a bit early, as preparations were still under way.

I marveled at the pinata,

the fashionista cupcakes.

I rejoiced with her as the guests began to arrive.

I waited with Sarah for all the guests to get there,

since the nail salon had already begun.

I yelled loudly for the pinata to be smashed,

and sent my girl to the front to get my candy.

(Hey, she offered!)

I took the guest seat as she opened my gift

(of course, we can make that sidewalk chalk together!)

and exchanged weepy glances with Heather and Ash as the reality of the moment hit us:

this girl who has our hearts is getting mighty grown.

Afterward, I sighed with Heather as we looked at the remains of a good time.

And then, I stopped talking to her,
in order to fulfill my promise to the girl of the day:

A sleepover to beat all sleepovers, by special invitation.