Sow hope

I realized this morning that it has been almost a month since I blogged last. A fact I find amusing because I have had a lot to blog about in that time. Looking back on the past year, it saddens me to think about how much of that time seemed to be filled with a sense of scarcity and fear. I am learning more and more that these two emotions seem to go hand in hand. When fear enters my life, a sense of scarcity isn't far behind.

I made a conscious choice to walk away from that kind of thinking, but it didn't happen over night. It has been a long process that is still going on. I've worked hard in that time to create the kind of life that is abundant and joyful. Even when my life hasn't felt particularly abundant or joyful, I have worked with that end in mind. And now, it seems that all of a sudden, there is abundance everywhere--even to the point of physical exhaustion some days. But I'm not complaining. And I realize that the abundance in our lives did not happen suddenly. It  is the fruit of the process. I am thankful that when God heard the intention of my heart, He showed me what it means to truly be part of the creative process.

Of course, I also realize this season of abundant blessings could abruptly end. But I am refusing to live with a sense of forboding joy--which is a task in itself. I remind myself daily to just live in the blessing. The here and now. I just want to live in a way that honors the gifts I have been given. As fleeting as though they may be, they are a gift from a generous God. And the impermanence of the gifts doesn't make His love any less enduring.

But to catch you up, here is a little bit of what we have been doing the past couple of months...

This is a picture of our own little sanctuary in the backyard. We extended the bed to add a hammock swing. We haven't gotten to relax in it much yet, but that is going to change very soon.

The view from our deck

Here is our chicken coop. It truly is a joy to walk out into the backyard and see this sweet little gem in the corner of our yard.

The chicken house

Thanks to James (my not-really-a-cousin-but-grew-up-that-way-friend), we brought home these girls. After a rocky start, they are settled in and we have already collected eight eggs from the two oldest hens. They bring us so much entertainment.

Pearl, Ruby, and Aggie

 We also brought home a feisty little black chick named Fannie. This is how Fannie arrived at our house because she kept escaping the kennel. Fannie's adventurous nature got the best of her when she escaped yesterday morning and was killed by our Dachsund, Toby. Needless to say, we went to church with heavy hearts yesterday morning.

Fannie, the baby chick

 Here are some pretty cherry tomatoes from our garden. We are still harvesting peppers from summer. We also have eggplant and some volunteer cucumber and squash growing wildly. Hopefully, we will be planting the rest of the fall garden this week.

Matt's Wild Cherry Tomatoes

 Here is one evening's collection from our pecan crop this year. Summer rains yielded full and abundant pecans. We have picked over three hundred pounds and still have more to go.

The never-ending pecan crop

We are also slowly picking wonderfully juicy lemons from our Meyer lemon tree as they ripen. Oh, and did I mention we also have real jobs? But that's a whole other post.

Today, my prayer is that you will believe the promise of God in your own life and begin to partner with Him to sow abundance into your own life even in the midst of scarcity and fear. That, my friends, is hope. Reach out, grasp it.

Gut-check

Some days don't turn out the way you think they will when you first begin them. I went to the doctor on Thursday for something I was mildly concerned about, but definitely not something to be overly worried about. During the course of the examination, the gears shifted and the conversation went from "I'm not worried about what's going on with your pain, but I'm very concerned about what's going on here."

The here was my abdominal aortic artery and the lighthearted, joking doctor became very serious and started talking about the emergency room and aneurysms. I continued to lightheartedly joke with him and the resident, but as I drove home to meet my husband to make the trip to the ER, it didn't seem that funny. Surreal? Yes. Absurd? Yes. Funny? Not really.

Given my mother's history of having two aneurysms,  I think I have always lived with a fear or awareness that I could hear that word in regards to my body one day. Actually hearing it hit a little too close for comfort. I guess you could say I had a little bit of a gut-check moment that afternoon.

I used to be the kind of person who said things like "I wouldn't mind if the Lord took me right now." There have even been dark, dark times when I tried to wish my life away. Times I was willing to roll the dice with flippant disregard for my own beating heart. I didn't feel that way Thursday. And honestly, it made me want to fall back in love with life again. To live in wonder. To walk in Truth. To be quiet and still, and to laugh long and deeply. To hug and be hugged. To love in way that leaves nothing to question.  To engage life the way God intended it to be engaged--by keeping a heavenly perspective on this earthly walk. Abandoned, but with great care.

To be honest, I don't even know exactly what all that is supposed to look like. Emergency over, Friday found me doing normal Friday stuff. And while my life didn't look very differently from any other Friday, I feel that, in a way, my spirit had already started planning. God spoke beautiful words into my heart this weekend. Separate events all themed in a way that let's me know God was there in the midst of the gut-check and He heard my heart. 

His response was to show me "what is good...To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God." (Micah 6:8). I desire more than ever for my life to look like my heart. And my heart to look like His.

In all things, give thanks.

I am grateful. I mean it. Truly, truly grateful. Unfortunately, I forgot it for awhile. And chances are, I will forget it again at some point in the near future. But right now, in this moment, I am grateful.  For the big blessings, beauty in the natural world, the gift of love, all the little things, and even the hard stuff.  This isn't an easy place to get to when you are feeling ungrateful. Sometimes it takes great intention and effort to find gratitude in the everyday. It helps when someone else points it out.

Ann Voskamp writes about the idea of practicing eucharisteo in her book One Thousand Gifts. And the more I listen to people talk--myself included--the more I realize that the practice of giving thanks in our words and actions on a daily basis seems to be absent in our culture. And I have to ask, if we aren't expressing that thankfulness on the outside, do we even feel it at all? Please understand that when I am using the collective WE, I mean specifically, myself. Me. I have spent the past couple of weeks feeling pretty ungrateful. So I started looking for a way out of it and I began to notice that when we don't speak with gratitude, the only other option is a lack of gratitude. Most of what we are privileged to call problems, are nothing more than inconveniences at best. Ask the rest of the world. We've just lost perspective.

It is only in the hard eucharisteo that I am learning once again, to count the smallest things as blessings.  And maybe I need to stop complaining and get a grip. Or a sense of humor. Or remember that I am not the center of the universe. I need to lighten up and look around. I need to be reminded.  And when I feel perspective slipping away, I go spend some time with James and Nicole. There are bigger problems in the world than the barista getting my order wrong. Maybe I just need to learn to thirst again. I think it is probably safe to say that when Jesus called us to take up our cross, He wasn't talking about a grande nonfat caramel macchiato with one splenda.