Today I...
/...Slept through my 6:30am alarm. Dashed around the house trying to get myself and my daughter in the car so I could drop her off at a friend's house and make my 9am appointment for a much-needed haircut.
...Kissed and thanked my husband who quickly whipped up a tea latté without my even asking and handed it to me as I was running out the door.
...Dropped my daughter off at my friend Melissa's house where she played with dollhouses and bears and hats and books. Caught up with my beloved hairstylist/friend Sylvia. Rejoiced again in how much I love having bangs and wondered where they've been all my life.
...Retrieved my daughter and asked if she wanted to go on a date with Mommy for smoothies. Her reply: "Ohhh-KAYYYYYYY!" Headed to Southpaw's for a Chocolate Nutty-Monkey smoothie and Green Gobbler sandwich with watermelon and orange slices and a side of silliness.
...Stopped by our store where I always love being on Fridays when new produce is arriving. Butternut and sweet dumpling squash...swiss chard...sweet potatoes...
...Delivered some tea to a mama friend who was having a rough day. Sat on the porch with her and her baby girl while my big girl played on the sidewalk barefoot, collecting acorns and berries.
...Stepped over fake play food and wooden tea set on the living room floor and put on Dora The Explorer without shame so I could cook dinner in peace.
...Made this for dinner, but instead of quinoa, I added roasted sweet potatoes and a side of chicken sausage. Absolutely delish.
...Gave my daughter a bath, during which she asked me to cradle her plastic walrus bath toy in my arms like a baby. I complied.
...Drank a glass and a half of wine - first, a leftover Syrah and then a Malbec sent over by the aforementioned mama friend as an unecessary but appreciated return gift for the tea.
...Felt excited at the sound of pouring rain outside (finally!) and the momentary flickering of the lights. Perfect early fall evening.
...Danced in the livingroom with my husband and daughter, twirled until we were dizzy and fell down.
...Read Goodnight, Moon and The Animal "eestra" (Orchestra) three times each before the little one finally drifted off to sleep.
...Reveled in a quiet house after the rest of my family was in bed at 9:05pm.
...Ate no less than three chocolate chip cookies with my bedtime tea and didn't regret it one bit.
...Realized that not all days are this imperfectly perfect, filled with such glimmering small treasures. And that's why it's ever so important to celebrate those that are.
Open windows.
/
Tonight, as I was putting my daughter to sleep in a second-floor bedroom, the one that belonged to {a younger} me for 17 years, I heard church bells chiming. Their deep, warm resonance traveled as the crow flies from downtown, over quiet homes lit from within and yards humming with crickets, moments later floating into my room through screened windows cranked open to invite in the sounds of the night...choruses of tree frogs croaking back and forth, children calling each others' names at a front yard barbecue around the corner, the crack of a bat and men's animated voices at the softball game across the street.
Those church bells, they stirred something deep within me. As I lay there under the open window on an achingly perfect night, with a cool summer breeze blowing across my legs, I couldn't help but feel that this is exactly what I need right now.
I know that "to everything there is a season," and there is certainly a season that calls for tightly sealed windows, holding loved ones close under toasty blankets, shutting out the cold. But for me, this is a season for open windows, both literally and figuratively.
Being away in New Jersey for this last month of summer has been an actual breath of fresh air in my life. Summer should mean open windows, slightly cool breezes at night, living outside, or at least inviting the outside in, and I've gotten to experience all of those things. More importantly, it's been a time to slow down, to soul-search, to shed some heavy baggage and embrace the lightness that comes with handing over your burdens to the only One who can handle them anyway.
Tomorrow, I'll return to Texas into the arms of my husband and the home I love, knowing there will be heat and humidity and that fall weather is still a way's off. My fervent hope is to return with a greater desire to live "outside in" instead of insularly. To live proactively instead of reactively. To live more relationally instead of closed off.
I'll start small, with shedding the dark chocolate brown on my living room walls for a light smoky blue on three walls and bright coral on the fourth. I'll learn to knit and needle felt. I'll open my life to new people - strangers - through a fall Bible study and by making meals for new moms in my neighborhood.
These are just the small things. But they have a common theme: letting go of fear, embracing life.
It won't be easy for an introvert like me to change and invite in new people and experiences, but it's time. The winds of change only flow easily through open windows. Even better, windows that are thrown open with abandon.
Seven years. And counting.
/
On our wedding day as I walked down the "aisle," a grassy hill scattered with flower petals, our dear friends Chris and Julie Bennett sang these words,
Oh the wonderful cross
Oh the wonderful cross
Bids me come and die and find
That I may truly live
Oh the wonderful cross
Oh the wonderful cross
All who gather here by grace
Draw near and bless your name
And those lines have been the story of our marriage thus far. Dying to live, huddling close, being sheltered by those dear ones in our lives.
Photo by Jeremy Cowart
From my husband, I have been taught patience when all I wanted to do is crawl out of my own skin. He's taught me joy - that walking with Jesus far surpasses any "freedoms" this world has to offer. And love. Not just the quick passing kind that's said as you're headed out the door; the kind of love that bolsters you, holds you up, when nothing else makes sense. The kind of love that fiercely bids the light to come and combat the darkness.
We've had to give up so much, he and I, over the last seven years, gone through trials that should have wrecked us time and time again. But I can honestly say looking back that we've been given so much more than we ever asked for. And I know as the years go by, God will restore and rebuild even more than what has been taken.
Years ago, before I met the man I was going to marry, I asked my sister-in-law the secret to a happy marriage. One of the things she said I've always remembered: "It's about choosing to stay in love, choosing to stay together." Basically, it takes a lot of work and intention. That means we've kept working at it, staying positive when arrows were thrown at us, when we lost all our money, when relationships failed, or when our business struggled. Yes, we've walked through the pain, questioned God and begged for mercy and miracles and peace. And - often in very unexpected ways - we've always received them. Then we dust ourselves off and get back up again.
In a card Steven gave me on my last birthday were these priceless words:
"As we search to discover how we can love each other more during this new journey in our life, I'm blessed to look over at you and know that you are a constant in my life. When family things and friend things and money things countinue to pound like heavy waves you are always within reach. That comfort and commitment is nothing short of a miracle."
So, happy 7 years to my baby daddy, my BFF, the love of my life. The "7 year itch" can just keep walkin' on by, because it's not welcome here, in this marriage. The Baileys are just getting started.
Michelle and Mercy: an inspiring story...
/{Dear lovely readers, my friend Michelle Murrey has just embarked on the adventure of her life as the photographer aboard the Africa Mercy Ship for the next two years. I thought it was time to share her story, in hopes that it will inspire you too.}
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When I met Michelle on New Year's Eve 2004, she was walking with a cane.
She and my husband had served on a team together for several summers, working with orphans in Romania. I was told she had just been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis, and my heart broke for this young woman in her 20s who was already physically disabled. I'll never forget the look in her eyes that night - there was a sadness and a struggle, yet a faint flicker of hope for healing.
It took a little while for us to get to know each other, but once I had the opportunity to see Michelle's heart, I was blown away by its beauty. Perhaps because of her pain and struggle, she has one of the most compassionate hearts I've ever encountered, especially towards the needy, the sick, the special needs children who are often forgotten.
Since that night, Michelle's life has been restored in more ways than I can personally document, and her story has gone from pain and struggle to absolutely inspirational. She has become one of my dearest friends of all-time.
The following is in Michelle's own words...
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Today, standing near the summit of a mountaintop on the island of Tenerife, I said to a friend, "I love my life. I can't believe I'm actually here." With a camera in hand and excitement in my steps, I wandered around taking photographs of the beauty of creation surrounding me: aqua blue ocean water, volcanic rock on the mountainside, houses built into the natural crevices of the land, and fishing boats in a small harbor at the beach.
My amazement over standing at that point was not just about the beauty surrounding me but also recognizing the incredible tapestry the Lord has been weaving through my life for thirty-five years. My explorations in photography began when I was about eight years old and my grandparents gave me my first camera. It was a simple camera but was sufficient for capturing fun adventures with friends. Over the years, my camera equipment changed but the interest remained, or rather intensified.
During the fall of 2000 and the summer of 2001, I had the opportunity to work in Romanian orphanages for infants and children and camps for children and teens. It was a turning point for me, in my walk with the Lord, in my photography skills and in my heart for missions to distant nations. Although I had participated in construction projects in Mexico during college, my experiences in Romania impacted me on a deeper level. It changed me. Changed the course of my life.
Even with the best laid plans to work in Romanian orphanages over a period of several years, life circumstances interrupted my strategy. I became ill and was forced to return to the United States to discover the root of my health issues. After years of tests and many misdiagnosed conditions, the root cause was finally discovered and my health improved. In the midst of it all, I had a choice... to succumb to the doctor's predictions of paralysis or severe illness or to continue living life to the fullest through each day the Lord gifted to me. And I chose the latter.
Since 1996, I've had the privilege of traveling to Mexico, Cuba, Romania, Hungary, Russia, England, Spain, Canary Islands, Uganda, Malawi, Ghana, and now Guinea. I have prayed over children who were dying, danced with children who were homeless, walked the streets of oppressed Communist nations and stood before the capital in D.C. with thousands of people to protest the genocide in Darfur. In the midst of illness or loss, the Lord continued to open doors for me to serve Him around the world.
Today, I am living on the Africa Mercy, a hospital ship docked in the Atlantic Ocean that provides medical services to some of the world's poorest people in West Africa. I have the amazing opportunity to be the eyes and ears of the ministry through photography to share the stories of those we meet and those we are able to serve through the medical programs. When I sit down to a meal, I might be surrounded by people from Sierre Leone, Holland, Sweden, Russia, Ghana, Canada, Togo and South Africa, all at the same table. It makes my heart sing.
From the time I was a child, I loved to take pictures and go on adventures, even in my own backyard. Today, the world is my playground. I am here to give the Lord 100% of myself, never taking for granted that this day could have looked very different if the doctor's assessments in 2003 had become reality. I have learned to treasure every moment, taking nothing for granted, and celebrating the gift of life with my brothers and sisters around the globe. "Here I am, Lord. Send me."
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If you've been inspired by Michelle's story and wish to support her journey on the Africa Mercy Ship, please go to this page. Any donation, however small, will help!
What is saving my life right now.
/I absolutely loved this post from Sarah Bessey: In which this is saving my life right now. And apparently, a lot of other people did too (like my friend Allison), which sparked Sarah to create a syncroblog where other bloggers can share their own answers to the question, "What is saving your life right now?"
So I'm supposed to tell you quickly, without overthinking it, just spilling it out...
- This trip to New Jersey, where I am for the whole month of August, is absolutely saving my life right now. It's been a hard day - a hard year - emotionally. As strange as it can be to return "home" for an extended period of time after becoming an adult, there are those wonderful moments when you can become a child again. Tonight, my mom reminded me of something an old friend said that she never forgot - "When you cry, I cry." She's the kind of mom who does that, not just for her children, but for everyone.
- Heart friends who share burdens with me and rejoice with me and send a little text message to say "I love you" save me when the whole world seems like it's going out. Which is often for an INFJ like myself.
- My sweet little girl whose smile and passion and compassionate heart bring so much joy to my every day. Her newest exclamation, "Look at THIS!" makes me giggle every time - as she points to a kitty crossing her path, or a butterfly fluttering around the pool, or a squirrel in the back yard.
- I don't know how much longer she will be nursing, as she's a big two-year-old now, but I'm happy to continue providing that for her a little longer. She came from my body, and the special bond and quietness we share during this time is so fleeting...
- A husband who understands me and encourages my dreams and creativity. The other day in the Marimekko store in NYC, I was swooning over all the beautiful fabrics. I was thinking, "Wow, those are beautiful but too expensive, so let's go," but he said, "Could you make something fun with just 1/2 yard?" I left with two 1/2 yards of different fabrics that happened to be on sale as well as the personal email address of the sales girl who helped me, another creative soul who loves to sew and secretly cut me a little more than she was supposed to of the dandelion fabric so I'd have enough to make pillowcases.
- Salty caramel gelato inside a crunchy waffle cone on a warm summer day - not just because it's delicious but because I chose not to think of the sugar content and just enjoy every last sweet, melty bite. I swear, something is magical about gelato from Eataly - I cannot stop thinking about it.
- Trees with hearts in them. Especially because those same trees were trimmed today, and the heart shape is no longer there. But in my memory, it is.
- Cooler weather. Leaving 107 degrees, I almost wept when the first 80* breeze swept across my face, closed my eyes, soaked it in.
- Joyrides in my mom's Jeep with the top off and wind blowing my tangled hair, driving past frolic-worthy fields so beautiful you have to veer the car over to the shoulder to snap a photo.
- But, I think what's saving my life the most right now is this simple truth, which I've written about time and time and time again:
I am not alone, not alone, never alone.
Thank you, Jesus. My introverted self can get so deep into my head, into my thoughts, and sometimes I feel like I'm drowning. But those compassionate hands of my God, and the skin-and-bones people here on earth whom God uses as His hands, reach down and literally pull me out. Time and time again, I'm thankful for grace and second chances and that His mercies are new every morning.
What is saving your life right now? Please, join in.
