one thousand gifts

 My sister-in-law Christi was the first to read this book in our family, I think. She recommended it to my mom, who gave me a copy of my own this Christmas, and now I am reading One Thousand Gifts, by Ann Voskamp. I wasn't too sure what to expect, other than the fact that so many people I knew were raving about it. So, I opened it up on my 11-hour-long plane ride back from Madrid and began to read. I must admit, the book has been nothing less than life-changing. I'm only halfway through, and already am amazed at how easy it is to relate to, how much I've learned, how vivid her writing is. It's one of those books that's impossible to underline or highlight favorite thoughts or quotes--because literally every sentence is profound enough, important enough, to underline. I could go on giving you one thousand reasons to read it, but instead I'm going to write out a paragraph from the book that I read this morning.

I see what I am. I'm amputated. I have hacked my life up into grace moments and curse moments. The chopping that has cut myself off from the embracing love of a God who "does not enjoy hurting people or causing them sorrow" (Lam. 3:33), but labors to birth grief into greater grace. Isn't this the crux of the gospel? The good news that all those living in the land of shadow of death have been birthed into new life, that the transfiguration of a suffering world has already begun. That suffering nourishes grace, and pain and joy are arteries of the same heart--and mourning and dancing are but movements in His unfinished symphony of beauty. Can I believe the gospel, that God is patiently transfiguring all the notes of my life into the song of His Son?

What in the world, in all this world, is grace?

I can say it certain now: All is grace. I see through the woods of the world: God is always good and I am always loved.

Read it.

Joyeux Noel

Whenever I get a second in the midst of the Christmas hustle-and-bustle, after finals are over and before the rush begins, I can't help but reflect on the year that's past. Once the new year comes it's hard not to think about the year ahead and resolutions and plans, but this is that fragile time of year when it's easy to think back. This year there are more than just a few milestones to remember...

I got to see Italy and Monaco for the first time with a group of 18 students from Little Rock Christian.

As Junior Class Sponsor, I co-led a week-long ski trip to Colorado and planned prom for 330 students. Peyton put up with lots of cranky days and tears of stress and I loved him even more for it, though neither of us look back on that job with too much fondness!

Rachel and Ben got married!

My poor mom broke her hip in May, then her knee in December. She was a testament to us all of a woman of faith, who through major disappointment and discouragement, still reminded us all of God's sovereignty on a regular basis. She is amazing!

We bought a house!

...and got married...

...and went on a honeymoon!

And we returned home, and continued our jobs, and celebrated our first birthdays as a married couple, and settled in, and here we are celebrating our first Christmas. It's become a trite thing to say "time flies" because it's said so much, but it's still true. Every year has its highs and lows, but God is constant and faithful and good, and that never changes. As I look back on this past year I am thankful for many things, but mainly for God's blessing (that I don't deserve) and for his provision for my family this year.

Merry Christmas!

Fall

Even though it's technically been fall for a while now, the weather in Little Rock is just now turning into Autumn. It's crazy to think that in just a few weeks Christmas decorations will replace pumpkins. Peyton and I have been enjoying watching football games with family and friends, biking in cooler weather, and pulling out our favorite fleeces. October and November always go by so quickly, and it seems a feat to take one day at a time as the days fly by. Happy Fall!

Smitten Kitchen

I just discovered the best cooking blog I've ever seen: Smitten Kitchen. It's definitely not one of the "easiest dishes/shortcuts/halfway-homeade" blogs...it's pretty gourmet. But, a lot of her recipes are still doable, and the fact that she's an excellent writer makes it all the more fun to read. I know what it's like to work and to be on the constant lookout for the-easy-way-out, simple meals. I like those, too! But, while looking on pinterest lately I've been annoyed with the amount of packaged and prepared-food recipes. You can only make so many oreo bars and no-bake cookies. Please don't think that I'm a snob! I like easy, trust me. But, sometimes I just want to be inspired to cook. Period. This blog is just for that. Her writing and recipes inspire me to get in the kitchen, and regardless of what I make or don't make, that's a feat in and of itself! The blog is definitely not updated daily, but since it's been going for five solid years and I've just discovered it I have plenty of perusing to do. Below are a few pictures to entice you. Bon appetit!

corn, buttermilk and chive popovers

pear, cranberry and gingerbread crumble

authentic French onion soup

pasta with homeade pea pesto

Paris

I just found out today that I get to go back to Paris with a group of students during the January Term at our school. I'm so excited! Some people's initial jealousy when they hear I am going turns into a painful groan when they realize that I, along with three other teachers, will be taking 25 high schoolers across the Atlantic Ocean. But, even though the management can be challenging and tiring at times, as a teacher it is a precious thing to get to see their faces light up when they see the Eiffel Tower for the first time, or order from a menu in French at a cafe. The things I talk about in class and attempt to meagerly express through lessons are finally brought to life, made real. When I first tasted Paris my junior year of college I knew that no matter how many times I returned, the magic of the city would never fade for me. Can't wait!

très mignon!

My French III class, which consists of nine students, eight of which are girls, is slightly obsessed with finding "cute French-isms." In other words, words or phrases that are cleverly cute. The French language has significantly fewer overall words than English, so sometimes its words or phrases are funny (though often logical) combinations of other words. If you are thoroughly confused now, here are a few examples that might help clear things up:

moth = papillon de nuit (literally-"night butterfly")
misleading word = faux ami (literally- "false friend")
paper clip = trombone (literally- "trombone")
sunset = coucher du soleil (literally- "the sun's going to bed")
potato = pomme de terre (literally- "apple of the earth")
beef tenderloin = filet mignon (literally- "cute fillet")
to have the blues = avoir le bourdon (literally- "to have the bumblebee")
dead-end street = cul-de-sac (literally- "bottom/butt of the bag")
lipstick = rouge à lèvres (literally- "red to the lips")

Taylor

      Yesterday my nephew, Taylor, turned 18. I am still in denial! Because he and I are only seven years apart in age, we've always had a special relationship that goes beyond the typical aunt-nephew one. My motherly instincts often come out with him, but ultimately he is my little brother (and, he recently told Peyton that I am really his sister...which made me melt, of course).
       It's been so much fun the past few years to get to be with him at school as well, and I cherish the times he stops by my classroom to tell me about a sweet dunk he had in practice or ask my advice concerning girls or friends. In fact, this year he is my Teacher's Assistant, so I get to see him everyday and watch him slave over ungraded quizzes and homework and bring me coffee! The other day he stopped by room after school, and as he sat there in his basketball shorts and shoes that are at least double my foot's length, I couldn't help but remember the little five year old playing basketball in the backyard in jean overalls and light-up Buzz Lightyear shoes. His fluffy cheeks have turned into a chiseled jaw line and his gapped teeth are now perfectly straightened out...but he is still my little pluffious (a word I created, thanks to him) Taylor.
      When we were younger we traveled to Disney World together with my parents, ate picnic lunches at Maumelle Park, biked to the gazebo of St. Thomas Ct., rode on the Sea-Doo together at the lake, did gymnastics in the living room (I dressed him up in my leotards), and shared many a meal and birthday at the kitchen table. Best of all, we sat together on the piano bench while he accepted Christ as his Lord and Savior.
      He has become a true man of God over the years, and continues to amaze my family and me with his wise decisions, high standards, and constant sweetness. To say that I am not ready for him to leave Little Rock for college would be an understatement. Taylor, his whole life, has been a symbol of God reaching down and giving me an undeserved taste of heavenly joy on this earth. He is rare. He is special. He is my nephew, my brother, my bud.

One of my favorites from the wedding: