It's not delivery! It's homemade Indian food..

We were enjoying a lazy Sunday afternoon when a knock came to our door; it was our new neighbor holding 2 containers full of some delicious smelling food. She was cooking lunch and thought we would enjoy some.

How awesome is that?

the remnants of yummy-ness.

Be jealous.

Handy Man

I've always aspired to being a handyman around the house. It is such a great feeling to be able to see something that needs fixed and totally fix it with your own hands.

Here in India, there is not a lot of room for the do-it-yourself personality. No Home Depot, no Lowe's, and a lot of funny looks if you walk into a small hardware store.

So, when a few problems arose in our flat, I was anxious to see how well I

could fix them using only the tools I brought over (1 screwdriver, 1 pair of pliers).

Problem #1: The drain where the water from our washing machine empties is too high. The hose usually comes out and then floods the bathroom with dirty water. After many attempts to correct this one, I finally realized I needed to stabilize the hose somehow to stay up.

Solution: I used a lot of string from some bags we had to make one long rope which I tied to the washing machine and then to the hose. I'm pretty proud of that one as it has worked and stayed in place.

Problem #2: The doorstop on the bathroom door will not stay up and so it is always dragging and prevents you from ever actually closing the door.

Solution: I wanted to lodge something in the hinge to keep the doorstep from falling down. Without many other options I chose to chew two pieces of Juicy Fruit (to match the paint) and set them around the doorstop, hoping it would dry and hold it up. That idea failed miserably. The doorstop is still annoying and now it has gum all over it.

With the odds stacked against me, I think 1 out of 2 is pretty good.

Heaven Song

Some people have the gift of marrying words with rhythm; the gift of song. I do not. It is the one gift I wish I had. I feel music inside of me all of the time, especially in moments of especial intimacy with Christ, but I've never been able to get that music out. I have always struggled with writing poetry, singing harmony, remembering lyrics--but I love them all deeply. I have always had to rely on others to pen the words in my heart. Only in the last few years have I become especially aware of this..."block". I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do with this self-realization--did it mean I had a sin that I just wasn't letting go of? Is there a part of me that first needs to be stripped away, to free me to sing the way my heart feels? The question of whether I was supposed to have this gift never occurred to me, because I am; I feel it. So why is it not coming?

Thinking about my beautiful friend, Kylee, and her death 2 months ago, has made me restless for Jesus to come back. I feel more aware than ever that Neil and I are not supposed to be "together forever", that I don't want to live to be 900 years old, and that this world is not at all the way that it is supposed to be. My heart belongs somewhere else--somewhere beyond the love found in friends, family, marriage, and country. My heart belongs with Him; that is the only place it will find rest.

I am realizing that no words I speak and no tune that I sing will ever fully reflect the affection my Brother, Friend, Lover and King has for me. Maybe God has put this longing for song throughout my body, knowing that it will not be quenched in this life. Maybe it was meant to be my pointer to the hope of heaven; my reminder that I have so much more of Christ to experience.

Someday I will sing with total abandon the heart song inside of me.
Maybe it's just a matter of waiting for Heaven.

Come quickly, Lord. I'm ready to sing.

Kylee, I'm a little jealous.

Hot or not?

Does anyone else remember that website? People would post their pictures to be rated as "hot" or "not". I remember finding out in college that a friend of mine had posted his picture on it--oh the jokes that came from that discovery :)

But now, I am sucking up my pride and posting my own picture. I took it after walking back from the grocery store (in 100+ degree heat). Notice the drop of sweat from my chin.

I vote "hot".

Mirror

I've realized lately that I am a much better person on the days when I don't look into the mirror. I'm much less plagued by vain curiosities and have a greater tendency to just be me.

I've been learning a lot lately--about myself and about Christ. The vulnerability of being in an environment that I'm completely unaccustomed to and realizing afresh that we marry those who are opposite of us have revealed with painful accuracy my faults. My sins, I should say. Faults make it sound like I stumble into them, when in fact they are often calculated moves, if I'm being honest. To quote a friend, my brain is "3/4 a wild zoo of bad, mad, sad animals" (ref. James 3:11-16. And every person you've ever met). I suppose, in this light, a figurative mirror would plague me as much as my actual one. A pimple or wide nose is no match for hate-filled tendencies. Again, I would much rather not look into a mirror.

And yet, that is what I have been doing a lot of this past month. My husband, a wise counselor, and Romans 2-3 have been my mirror. Through these the Law has crushed me (I will never be able to uphold it); and through the crushing of the Law, the grace of Christ has become more evident than ever. Earlier this month, my wise counselor actually shared with me the good news that I am loved by Christ. Sure I've heard it before, but it felt new. It was beautiful and it made me cry. For days, in fact.

With this new perspective, being baptized when I wash my face each morning and looking at myself in the mirror presents a paradox. I am a slave to my flesh and yet am filled with His Spirit. My flesh will haunt me until the day it is restored. I will continue to do the things that I hate and refuse to do the things that I love. His mercies really are new every morning.

Seeing the grace of Christ in light of my fleshly state is overwhelming, heartbreaking and full of hope. I won't avoid looking in the mirror so much; the first few moments of nasty realizations are worth it.

In fact, I'm beginning to find what I see pretty breathtaking.