strawberries.

We had fun strawberry picking yesterday with friends from church.  This was our first time and Judah and Amie took it very seriously.  We filled two big buckets, and afterwards I washed, trimmed, and froze them on trays to pop in our green smoothies.  Yum!

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Judah and Isabel looking carefully for the “dark red ones”

IMG_2556 Such a gorgeous spring day

IMG_2568Baby Jesse and I love each other (sometimes I just want to munch on his arms)

IMG_2574While the rest of us picked strawberries, Emma Taylor ate strawberries. I get to babysit this cutie because her parents do a babysitting coop with us; each couple gets two date nights a month.  It’s wonderful!

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Oliver let us all know when he’d had enough strawberry picking

strawberriesMy friend Ashley (far left) is an awesome photographer and took these final two group shots for us (well Isabel took the last one!). I’m blessed to have these ladies in my life!

mother’s day.

A re-post from here, Mother’s Day, 2012:

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“What more could a mom ask for?”

A mom could ask to be able to take her son to swim lessons each morning.

A mom could ask to come home and open the books and teach from the homeschool curriculum she’s so excited about.

A mom could ask to not set her kids up at the breakfast table with cereal and then crawl back into bed.

A mom could ask to wait on and pamper their daddy after his surgery.

A mom could ask to play hide and seek and have tea parties and read books.

A mom could ask to be the one to take her kids to the park instead of letting the nanny do it.

A mom could ask to cook dinner for her family . . . a full spread with the meat and starch and two veggies.

A mom could ask not to have to cancel the week’s play dates because she just doesn’t have the energy.

A mom could ask to not put her hands over her eyes when her kids shout and joke and climb on her because her head just hurts so bad.

It isn’t all necessary, she knows.

But she can ask.

It’s the best Mother’s Day, and the hardest Mother’s Day.

———————

On Mother’s Day, 2013, I’m grateful that a year ago today God saw my tears and heard my voice, and He answered me.  He didn’t answer in a way that made sense, or even in the way I wanted, but what He gave me was infinitely better.

On this Mother’s Day I’m grateful to spend all day every day with my two precious children.

I’m grateful for tea parties and art projects and homeschooling, for reading books and running at the park, for play dates and cooking dinner and washing dishes, for mounds of laundry and a houseful of shrieks and laughter.

On this Mother’s Day, I’m grateful.

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the truth about support-raising.

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When people learn about the kind of ministries we’ve been involved in one of the most-repeated remarks we hear is, “I just could never do a job where I have to raise support.”

I understand that.  Throughout our early years of marriage, as we looked and prayed and planned to go overseas, it was the thing I feared the most.  All that money . . .  And we had the added bonus of beginning our fund-raising journey in 2009, one of the worst years for our nation’s economy in recent history.  The prospect was overwhelming.

And now it’s 2013 and a big part of David’s job in this season involves fund-raising for our church plant for the next four years: for our salary, for facilities’ fees once we start Sunday worship, and for ministry expenses to see us through until we are a self-supporting body.

I find, somewhat to my surprise, that I’m at peace with this season of life, with once again needing to raise funds and live on the generosity of the people around us.

I want to share with you a few reasons why God has given me freedom in this area of our calling, why I no longer fear fund-raising, why I can even say that in many ways I’m grateful for it.

1. Support-raising has grown my faith.

It seems self-evident, but through the process of having to raise support, I’ve grown so much in my faith that it is God who provides.  He owns the cattle on a thousand hills.  A little bit of money (yes, to Him it’s just a drop) is nothing for Him.

Yes, fund-raising involves a whole lot of hard work.  But in the end it’s so out of our control.  This is God’s work after all, not ours.  And it’s one of the sweetest confirmations that we’re doing what we’re supposed to be doing when He moves mountains to provide.

The more these truths of His bigness and His ability to provide and His personal care sink into my heart, the more freedom I’ve experienced from fear and pride over having to ask for money.

Here’s the thing.  We aren’t desperate for people’s money.  Not at all.  God provides and sure He uses people.  But part of Him using them is moving in their heart to give.   That’s something I didn’t really understand before we started this journey.

And so we see, time and again, that it’s really not about us.  We are free to share our passion with folks and with churches (and we need to, time and again); we are free for them to listen and then say, “No, that’s not something I feel called to.”  And that’s okay! The body of Christ is so big and diverse; isn’t it great that we’re passionate about giving to different things and different people?

But when they do feel called to partner with us—that is a truly amazing thing.  Their excitement is as big as ours; they give generously, they give joyfully.  We see them trust God for the money to give to us and see Him provide for us all!

Our supporters humble us time and again with their faith and their big-heartedness.  And together we worship God.

2.  Support-raising has given us incredible friends.

We’ve made life-long friends through this process.  We’ve had people—some family, some friends from different seasons of our lives, and some complete strangers—carry us through our darkest moments, pray for us doggedly, cheer us on when we had no heart to keep going, pay for unexpected expenses, and shower us with encouragement.

Going into it all we had no idea how much we’d need them.  But God knew.

These friends have changed our lives.  They’ve taught us what true partnership means—it’s never them writing a check and then us going out and doing the real ministry.  No way.

There would be no us without them.

I know that so strongly in my heart that I’m now glad we’re raising support for the first few years of this church plant.  We need our tribe, our community more than ever.

And, now that I’m home from the field, it makes me long to be part of that tribe for others who are going, to love on them and cheer them on and encourage them in any way I can.

3.  Support-raising has taught me that I can speak in public.

I never ever thought I’d write this, but I’m grateful for the way our experience with support-raising has grown me in public speaking.  You know that I struggle with anxiety, and you’d think anxiety and public speaking would go together like oil and water.  That’s what I thought.  I mean, I’m seriously one of those people who was paralyzed by the prospect of speaking to an audience.

But, once again, God had a better plan.

Oh man those first days were rough.  We started our support-raising experience with “interest groups” — basically dessert nights in friends’ homes where we could hang out and share about South Asia.  Well I was so terrified about speaking up and sharing even in those small group settings sitting around a living room that I’d have a stomach-ache for days beforehand.  I’d feel my throat tighten and gasp for breath as I started speaking.

David was great.  He’d talk through it with me, do everything he could to encourage me and make it as painless as possible.  But I still had to do my breathing exercises every time I spoke.

Oh how far I’ve come since then.  Have I ever spoken to a sanctuary of people on a Sunday morning?  No.  And I hope I never have to.  But I’ve shared in front of increasingly larger amounts of people over the last four years.  I’ve learned that it’s okay if I’m nervous, if I fumble over my words and don’t say everything perfectly.  This story is bigger than me; I’m just called to be faithful.  God has helped become more transparent and honest, and I’ve seen Him use it by His grace to encourage others.

Public speaking is still really, really scary for me—and it’s not something I’d choose to do.  But you know what?  It’s gotten easier with practice.  And it has been a beautiful way for me to learn—to experience—that God really gives strength for what He calls me to.  It’s helped me to begin to trust Him and to take risks with other areas of my life.

4. Support-raising has shown me the body of Christ working together

Support-raising has given our family a greater appreciation for the many different strengths in the body of Christ and for the fact that God uses all of us.  Some supporters have never been able to give financially but have committed to pray.  And you know what?  That’s wonderful!  God has provided others who can give money but who may not have the gift of consistent prayer or the time to write emails saying they’re praying.

Some of my friends bemoaned the fact that they could never get it together to send us a care package overseas.  And that was fine!  Because they were emailing or calling me regularly and God provided others—who may never have emailed or called or written—to send care packages.

There have been so many examples like that, and what I want to share with you from our experience is: find what you can do well and do that to partner with missionaries and those in ministry, rather then beating yourself up for what you can’t do!  Ask God to provide others for the areas in which you’re weak: He’ll do it!    I promise you that whatever you can give: something as simple as a brief Facebook message, will have a huge impact.

5. Support-raising has given me a birds-eye view of God’s work.

I’ve often said over the last few years that I wish every Christian had the opportunity to see what we see.  Missionaries get a “big picture view” of the kingdom of God — not just because we see Him work in other cultures, but because we travel to lots of churches and have lots of different individuals support us.

And we hear many, many stories.  We’re deeply grieved by the suffering that people experience, and we’re full of amazement at the power of God to change lives (so often through the suffering).  These stories bolster our own faith and they constantly humble us because God doesn’t just work in missionaries’ lives or in overseas contexts.

We see American churches big and small, traditional and contemporary, suburban and country and city, all with different demographics, different worship styles, and different personalities serve God with their resources, give generously, and love creatively.

I’ve learned that you simply cannot predict which church or which individual will be most alive to God’s grace or will be making the biggest difference for the kingdom based on appearances.  I’ve learned to listen more and judge less.

This has done so much for my perspective on life.  Sometimes it’s tempting as Christians to think, “The world is going to pot, churches are losing their passion, Christians have no commitment, this generation is a lost-cause.”

Well I’m not anyone important, but please let me tell you from my heart: That is not true.

God is just as faithful today as He was in New Testament times or in the 1980’s.  He’s alive and He’s active.  He is seeking and saving those who are lost.  He’s restoring marriages, reconciling races, healing addictions, bringing joy.  And He’s using ordinary people like you to do it!

The gates of hell are not prevailing and they will not prevail.  Let’s live together in that joy and power.

gluten-free take two, and a moment of truth.

I’ve been gluten-free for over a month now, and wow, do I feel so much better.  It makes me wonder why it took me so long, but oh well.  We had a few things going on.

The last time I went gluten-free was in South Asia, in a desperate attempt to get to the bottom of my illness, and I blogged about it here.  I can’t even describe how much easier it is to follow a gluten-free diet in the U.S.  It’s not just the access to Trader Joe’s and Whole Foods, with their glorious gluten-free aisles, but it’s also having several friends around me who follow a similar diet, with whom I can regularly debrief, commiserate, and get inspired with.

But I will never, ever forget my girl friends in South Asia: Keli and Maggie and Asha and Alison and Priya and Amanda.  Those amazing ladies cheered me on and cooked for me and scoured our city for gluten-free products.  And I’ll never forget my friends and family back home, who encouraged me and spent their hard-earned money to send me gluten-free care packages.  I still get a little teary when I think about how well-loved I was in those hard, hard days.

So anyway.

I feel great.  While my headaches and my stomach feel much better, the biggest difference is a little hard to describe: it’s this clearness in my whole body.  I guess the opposite would be feeling like I was achey and in a fog before.  I’m gaining more and more energy, and when I go jogging I have so much more stamina.  It feels wonderful.

I’ve cheated several times, at least once a week probably (it nearly always happens when we’re eating out).  But I feel so crummy afterward (usually a bad headache the next day), that the temptations to cheat are losing their power.

I’m also for the most part dairy-free.  For some reason that’s the hard one this time around.  Mostly because English Breakfast tea had replaced my morning cup of coffee and I must have milk in my English Breakfast tea.  I haven’t found a coffee-replacement I just love, and that’s hard.  I treat myself to decaf sometimes when I’m out, but there’s still a low point every single morning when I wake up and face the lack of coffee.  Pathetic, I know.

Are you ready for the moment of truth?

I’m tired.

I love feeling so great, I love our journey toward a whole foods diet.  But, friends, it’s hard.

I wish I could write a post that tells you it’s every bit as easy to cook from scratch and eat a healthful diet.

But I can’t.  It’s a lot more work.  The latest thing I did away with is breakfast cereal.  Just went ahead and stopped buying it.  So now I wake up and my day starts with cooking–a full breakfast for my kids (usually fruit and eggs and homemade bread).  I’m not asking my family to eat gluten-free this time around, so often mealtimes involve cooking separate things for them and myself.  And although there are endless gluten-free options in the supermarket, most don’t fit the definition of “whole food” (single ingredient), or “minimally processed” (five ingredients or less, no preservatives).

We have no dishwasher.  So between the cooking and the washing dishes, I spend a lot of time in the kitchen.

I realize that I sound so whiny right now, or like I’m trying impress you with my domesticity.  I’m not at all.  Just trying to keep it real.  It’s a lot of work and some days I bitterly resent the work.  Some days I bitterly resent pulling a loaf of piping hot whole wheat bread from the oven and not even getting to taste it.

There.

But you know what?

Somehow, even with all the work, I feel more committed than ever to our food journey.  I’m seeing the results in our family, and I like what I see.  Not only am I feeling way better on my diet, but taking away packaged/processed foods is slowly but surely changing the kids.

They are willing to try new things more readily.  Both have become huge fruit fans.  It’s a slow process, mind you, filled with lots of complaining.  But I really, really do see a difference in them.  I love having conversations about why it’s important to eat whole foods regularly and save others just for fun treats, how it fuels their body and helps them grow big and strong.

And, underneath all the tiredness and complaining, I find I’m enjoying food more than ever now.  I’ve come alive to the taste of all the fruits and vegetables we’re eating, I’m enjoying trying new recipes.  Cooking becomes simpler with quality ingredients.  Food genuinely inspires me in a way it never did before.

So why am I telling you all this?  I guess just to say: I’m a real person.  I love our new lifestyle, but I also get exhausted by it.  To those of you who beat yourselves up for not making more changes to your family’s eating habits: don’t.  To my friends who are working full-time or preggo or nursing a baby or running around after a toddler, I say, “Give yourself a break.  You have your hands full as it is!”  You can make these changes when the time is right.  Or very slowly.

David regularly brings me back to reality by saying, “Remember, let’s focus on the positive–let’s still enjoy that Five Guys burger and also keep trying to slowly add good foods to our home.”  And he also brings me back by saying, “I think it’s a boxed cereal kinda week.”  I’m so thankful for him.

city roots farm.

City Roots is one of our favorite vendors at the farmer’s market, and the folks there invited us to bring the kids out to explore, so this morning my cousin Liz and I met up to take a look around.

Since it’s a city farm (in the Rosewood neighborhood) it’s small: maybe two acres?  After watching so many eye-opening documentaries like Food, Inc. and reading books like American Wasteland, I find myself with an almost physical hunger to see plants and livestock that are strong and happy — rather than just mass-produced and mowed down for our ravenous American consumerism.

So this morning made me happy.  The sun was bright and the air fresh and crisp, the soil rich and the colors vivid.  The green houses were filled with rows upon rows of micro-greens.  The greenhouse manager gave me some great tips for our own tiny micro-green operation.

And the chickens in the back corner of the farm had a spacious clean coop and happily nosed around the mulch, pausing to look at us every now and then.

City Roots farm loves Columbia and uses their space and their influence to be kind to our city’s resources.  I want to support them in that endeavor.  And I’m inspired for us to keep expanding our own little urban homestead.

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church plant.

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We meet formally as a group twice monthly to get to know one another, pray, and learn about the vision and values of the church.  It’s also a great time for other people to come check us out and seeing if they may be interested in joining in.

We had around 25 adults at our meeting Thursday night–a mix of singles, families, couples, college students, and there was childcare for the littles.  We’re so very grateful to Columbia Crossroads Church who allows us to meet in their downtown campus free of charge.  It’s the perfect space, right off Main Street.

One of the biggest blessings in this process so far is the supportive community we’ve found in downtown churches around us.  From the very start of this idea, David began meeting other church planting pastors here in Columbia and asking them what they thought about a new church.  The response from several different denominations was overwhelming: Yes! We need you!!!

There is a great atmosphere here of “We’re all working together to reach our city for Christ.  There are 100,000 people within walking distance of the capital who don’t know Jesus, so we need lots more church plants!”  This spirit fits in with our passion, which is not to take Christian members from surrounding churches, but instead to be a church for non-Christians, where people feel loved and feel like they belong before they know Jesus.

And so in these past months, we’ve begun getting to know other pastors and their families, worshipping in their churches on Sunday, and we’ve been deeply ministered to.  We’ve sat under gospel-filled preaching and soaked in gifted, meaningful worship music, and met so many people who love Jesus and love their city.

These churches have offered advice, sound equipment, research, encouragement and prayer, and three churches from different denominations have invited David to come share before their congregation and ask people to consider giving financially.

We are thankful.  It’s just another sign that God is in this.  That this whole thing is so much bigger than one small group of people, that He’s going to be faithful where He has called.

i miss.

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I miss auto rickshaw rides at dusk, the wind whipping my face and hair, the twilit sea of humanity melting together

I miss rich, doughy-sour dosa folded and dipped into fiery sambar

I miss children’s school uniforms in colors as varied as schools

I miss throwing my doors open to cool winter mornings

I miss walking to Nilgiri’s for groceries at 8:00 at night, the streets alive with people and noise and life

I miss the swelling satisfaction upon finding that elusive baking ingredient

I miss flowers that demand to be noticed: hot pinks and oranges and tropical red

I miss Deepakshi’s rajma