the scary, scary beauty of what's right here

O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night

And death's dark shadows put to flight.

The somber-edged expectation of advent always jars a bit in the midst of the ostentatious commercial Holiday Season, but the dissonance feels extra jagged this year. I signed up families for Toys for Tots, and more than a few moms were near tears, wondering how they were going to get through the next few everything. Everywhere I turn folks are grieving, sick, and struggling under the weight of addiction, loneliness, fractured relationship, uncertainty, loss, and violence, to say nothing of creeping fascism. The heaviness is palpable and raw.

And that is the world to which Christ comes: Emmanuel, God-with-us in the messy trenches of fear and overwhelming burden. Present in chaos and storm, the manger-babe charts another course toward wholeness, justice, and all things made new. The last are first. The margins honored. Mountains leveled. The poor blessed.

Hoping, we set bruised hearts and tired feet toward everything for which we long so deeply: Streams in the desert. Healing. Safety. Community. Nourishment. Wisdom. Provision. Peace. Forgiveness. Restoration. Rest. Good faith.

And the ransomed of the Lord shall return,
and come to Zion with singing;
everlasting joy shall be upon their heads;
they shall obtain joy and gladness,
and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.

O come, O come, Emmanuel. Steady the knees that give way. 

with the sound the carols drowned

As advent begins amid swelling protest and lamentation, the poem-turned-song, I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day, echoes in my ears.

And in despair I bowed my head;
"There is no peace on earth," I said

The meditative timbre of advent never fails to resonate with me. Its melancholic, hopeful longing jars against the flashy lights and blur of the Christmas [shopping] season, mirroring the tensions and promise of the now-and-not-yet-fully-realized Kingdom of God.

We wait, and we watch. We cultivate hope, awaiting the coming of Emmanuel, already present and at work among us and within us. We take heart, pushing together against hate and trusting in the peace on earth that is come and shall come at last.

because being on the same side is overrated

keep me close by your side
sharing secrets and sorrows and
marshmallow tea

laughing till we pee
trade me stories like candy on
Halloween eve

memorizing what beauty
catches your breath and which aches
remind you of home

never seeking our doubles
(on this we agree!)
just remember i’m there by your side

image source

and the trees are stripped bare

GUESS WHO PUT IN A WOOD STOVE?? There's still a bit of masonry yet to finish, but our farmhouse is fired up. The winter of my discontent shall be a good bit toastier. Take that, polar vortex.

We threw a party: venison chili, mulled cider, and a fire for a crowd of thirty-odd friends and neighbors. Such a nice night. My brother and his girlfriend drove out from Philly to spend the weekend with us, too, which was great. We went out together to a quirky Northern Chinese restaurant ten miles further into the the middle of nowhere, PA, that everyone was thoroughly charmed by. Dumplings forever. Delegating pumpkin carving to Uncle Josh? Priceless.

James turned five, and we celebrated with blue key lime buttercream. My older sister visited with a crew of friends for a little team-building retreat involving jumping off telephone poles. My parents were around for a bit. They bought a little second home here a few years back and venture out every few weeks, to the great delight of Dylan and James.

Jim's been in Milwaukee putting on a big four thousand runner stadium race with his buddy, like you do. That meant nearly a week of solo parenting, but we hung in there, we did. Quite happily, all things considered, fitting in trick-or-treat, a living room camp-out, a movie night, and scrambled eggs for dinner twice. Jim is back, and he brought with him Wisconsin cheese, because all the best men do.

Pages:

50 Women Every Christian Should Know Michelle DeRusha's collection of mini biographies is worthy of a read. She's got mystics, martyrs, missionaries, activists, artists, and all sorts of diverse women spanning Church history. Definitely a good introduction to inspire further reading.

My Thinning Years: Starving the Gay Within More an autobiography than a proper memoir, I had a difficult time with this one, but I trust it would resonate with those who share similar stories.

Speak: How Your Story Can Change the World This title from Nish Weiseth, my editor at A Deeper Story, is about the role of storytelling in creating community and forging understanding. Her writing is interspersed with posts from the multi-contributor website, (including the first one I ever published with them. In print!). Like Nish, I've seen stories change minds and heal hearts, and writing in that community has been a tremendous pleasure.

As one who is equally appreciative of a well-reasoned argument (and believes that storytelling, like anything, can have a dark side), I wasn't completely sold on her story-is-king premise, but it's certainly a hopeful one, and Christians could all do with a bit more listening and not despising the days of small things.

Gone Girl Whoa. This thriller had me going. I don't want to spoil anything, but I definitely want to see the movie.

The Selected Poems of Wendell Berry Worth it alone for Anglo-Saxon Protestant Heterosexual Men. Berry is a national treasure.

Screens:

The Bletchley Circle: These BBC feminist period piece mysteries about a crew of smart and nerdy code-breakers are the BEST and altogether too few. The series/seasons are just three episodes a piece. The first is on Netflix, and the second I tracked down in the library system.

Scandal and Parenthood remain my faves. I'm also rather charmed by the freshman romantic comedies A to Z (NBC) and Manhattan Love Story (ABC).

Pretty sure I saw zero movies last month.

Perfection:

Bill Murray mumble-singing one of my favorite Bob Dylan songs forever and ever amen. Anyone seen this movie yet?

If Ruth Baby Ginsburg doesn't make you smile, you are dead inside.

All right, that's me. What have you been doing, seeing, loving of late?

we're here to stay, we're here to stay, we're here to stay

PREVIOUSLY: because purity culture harbors rape & abusers

What Kind of Leadership Blocks Dissent & Privileges Predators, Christianity Today?

They took down the post. Late last night, the president and C.E.O. of Christianity Today and the editor of Leadership Journal took responsibility, removed the destructive article, and issued one of the better apologies I've seen, which you can read in full here.

The conversation is changing, and our work is bearing fruit. Evangelicalism's flagship media group, read by 2.5 million people a month, is beginning to address consent and take steps to change harmful language and ensure survivor care. Because of a grassroots movement aimed at accountability and concern for child protection, sexual abuse prevention and after-care is on the hearts and minds of thousands of pastors, laypeople, and church leaders this week instead of functioning as a niche concern for survivors, therapists, feminists, and activists.

We are kicking at darkness, and daylight is breaking through. Abusive patterns and oppressive systems, once hidden in plain sight, are being named and dragged into the light, and this is a big deal! There is so much work yet to do, but what happened this week is no small thing, and we should celebrate that victory.

I'm so grateful for the work and witness this week of Dianna Anderson, Tamara Rice, Emily Maynard, Becca Rose, Samantha Field, Bethany Suckrow, Mary DeMuth, Hännah Ettinger, Elizabeth Esther, Micah Murray, and so many others.

They'll call you firebrands, gadflies, and honey badgers, but we know you're lionhearts, the lot of ya. xo



{image source}

the melting of ice and the future of history

Somewhere down the road we'll lift up our glass
And toast the moment and the moments past
The heartbreak and laughter, the joy and the tears
The scary, scary beauty of what's right here

{Over the Rhine, "Here It Is" from Snow Angels.}

Feeling wistful this advent. Lighting candles and longing for all things made new.

love shows up

It's National Coming Out Day. Ben Moberg is sharing his story and shedding the anonymity he'd blogged under until this point, which is pretty freakin' bold.

Another friend, Kate Jones, had these words that I wanted to share, too:

If someone comes out to you and you do not affirm their gayness, please refrain from expressing that judgement. Those words will leave the worst scars. Try these words instead: "Thank you for being honest with me. I love you."

Vulnerability and honesty are gifts to honor. Love shows up, incarnate in what we do.

The stakes are too high to extend anything less.

a grand canyon of light

I love my country
By which I mean
I am indebted joyfully
To all the people throughout its history
Who have fought the government to make right
Where so many cunning sons and daughters
Our foremothers and forefathers
Came singing through slaughter
Came through hell and high water
So that we could stand here
And behold breathlessly the sight
How a raging river of tears
Is cutting a grand canyon of light

{from Grand Canyon by Ani DiFranco. Happy Fourth, friends.}

the peace of killing the approval god

There was this boy that I sat next to in homeroom every day for three blessed years. It's possible that I'm misremembering, but I think homeroom was all of eight minute long, providing just enough time to finish one calculus problem.

Or, as was my preference, to think up ridiculously inane questions to ask the boy so that I could gaze at him longingly and turn red.

There were exactly two things that I knew about him:

1.) He liked a band that I liked. (A connection!)

2.) He was into riflery. (What.)

As a sixteen year old girl, few things interested me less than guns, but mercy, could I feign fascination if it meant any fleeting moment of his attention.

How long have you been practicing?

Do you have a date to homecoming?

What's a competition like?

Are you saying words? I can't even tell, you are so cute.

What kind of targets do you shoot?

Why does it feel like a million degrees in here?

Jumping through hoops to get people to like us is stressful. It can become a full-time job if we let it: a full-time, anxiety-inducing job with sucky benefits. Who needs that kind of self-defeating energy drain in their life?

Lemme introduce you to my almost-three-year-old. James dances to his own beat. He doesn't much care if you like him but you're more than welcome to hang. Sometimes Jim and I look at him, all mischievous eyes, underpants and rain boots, and think, That there is a middle child. 

(And then we say a prayer, because James can be a bit of a honeybadger and mama needs a break.)

James is a kid who does his own thing, unconcerned by the crowd's gaze. He's un-self-conscious and comfortable in his skin, just like the good Lord made him. At two and eleven/twelfths, James is well-versed in the practice of not seeking approval. 

As his mother, this drives me up walls, but there is peace in the principle.

It's folly to derive our worth externally, from what we do [I will work harder!] or how it's received [something entirely beyond our control]. Tethering satisfaction or confidence to approval is a rollercoaster on the best days and a perfectionist's hamster wheel or paralyzing snare on others.

Peace is not found in the vicious performance cycle. It grows from an identity unchained to the fair weather esteem of others and rooted in the unchanging love of God who created us in his image.

Peace is taming the desire for fickle human approval and resting in a God who knows our every strength, quirk, and shortcoming and loves us all the more.

(You may need to click through to see the video.)

• Were you as embarrassing as I was in high school? How do you kill the approval god? Are you still thinking about guest posting on a practice of peace? How egregious is it for me to post a Call Me, Maybe video long after they jumped the shark?

sing thy grace

It's been one of those weeks, rife with hand-wringing, tears, and What the hell am I doing?

"Gentle discipline" feels like neither, and I'm the one punished.

My love isn't strong; my patience spills like cereal and I'm poured out.

But valleys fill first.  There is grace in hard things and sweetness in a boy who is not out to get me.  He is learning and growing and finding his way.

And I'm finding His.

{video: Although speaking in sentences is new, James learned all three verses months ago. 

We sing it, per his request, every night before bed.}

Come, thou Fount of every blessing, tune my heart to sing thy grace; streams of mercy, never ceasing, call for songs of loudest praise. Teach me some melodious sonnet, sung by flaming tongues above. Praise the mount! I'm fixed upon it, mount of thy redeeming love.

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oh, my heart!

happy valentine's day
xo

love, mumford & sons, the avett brothers, bob dylan
{and me}

happy places. or, ima keep my head up high

last week, i reported that james could say mama, dada, dylan, and stinky.  well, dinnertime is apparently prime language acquisition hour, as well as boisterous family time.  to his repertoire, james has also added thank you, one,  and what is perhaps the funniest two word request from a one year-old:

MORE BUMP!

corey.menscher

that's my boy:)

he fist bumps and then laughs and laughs and laughs.  such joy in that little heart!

we've also been watching this wonderful sesame street clip on repeat, prompting requests from dylan like this little gem:  "daddy, can you break it down, but no singing this time?"



both kids watch and dance around like wildly happy, fuzzy little monsters.  love!

now a question for you:  our kodak easyshare bit the dust, and we are in the market for another modestly-priced digital camera.  any tips?  should we get a kodak or try another brand?  we really don't want to spend more than $150.  help a girl out who knows very little about such things!

edited to add:  jim just came home with a canon power shot.  can't wait to learn it!

have a fist-bumpingly wonderful weekend, friends:)

this and that

jim and i had our seven year anniversary on monday, and i wanted to post a wedding picture, but we can't seem to get our printer to scan. we didn't exactly celebrate our anniversary anyway, since i woke up sunday with a head cold that only seems to worsen. being 31 weeks pregnant and sick is not a fun combo. i could seriously sleep all day, except for the busy little person who requires my constant entertainment and supervision.

we did enjoy a visit from my parents and friend mariah this weekend, though, which was so great and unusual, since so many friends and family live so far away. dylan loved having her 'amma, pappa, and 'riah's attention all weekend, and we were thankful to spend time together.

at our church, dylan is often the only one in the nursery. it is not a huge exaggeration to say that we are among the only people of childbearing age here in the land of the retired. i imagine that a lot of congregants aren't around pregnant women very much, so i guess i shouldn't take it personally when they ask me when the baby is due, and i reply "in October," and their eyes grow wide and their jaws actually drop.

i shouldn't take that personally, right?

yes, i feel big and achey, but i swear i don't look like i'm ready to deliver yesterday. but thanks for the encouragement.

obviously, i'm not going to post a "me at 31 weeks!" belly shot, but here is a video of dylan on her swing.

a girl and her horse

the horses have returned to their home in central PA, but before they left camp, we got dylan up one last time. she is one fearless kid:)

growing up

this video is actually from around dylan's birthday, but as we just found our camera (yay!), i'm posting it now. better late than never:)



i was sitting in MOPS last week, and all over the room, moms were holding tiny babies who are younger than dylan was an entire year ago. has it really been that long?

at fourteen months, dylan doesn't takes more than a few walking steps at a time, but she is BUSY and still manages to cover a lot of ground. she's definitely a climber, like her daddy. jim turned his back on her for a second yesterday and she was standing on her little round chair!

jim affectionately refers to dylan as "Destructo!" since she loves pulling down and emptying everything she can find: bookshelves, cupboards, toy bins, our cd rack, the recycling...

almost every day dylan is saying something new. hi, bye, baby, mama and daddy are still her favorites, and she's added milk, all gone, all done, boy, bird, ball, duck, bag, up, down, more, please, yes, yeah, NO!, an occasional "thank you" and recently lots of "uh-oh!" the other day, she pet sydney and told her, "good girl." they are so sweet together:)

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first halloween

we celebrated halloween last weekend with friends from church, their two little girls, and another family we met there. even though we've lived here for more than three years, we still know few people near our age or with kids, so it was especially nice to have a glass of wine and enjoy the kids playing together.

the older ones went trick-or-treating, and we stayed back with dylan, who waved enthusiastically to the costumed masses. she was a little dragon (dinosaur?), but i forgot my camera and didn't take any pictures until this week. then we had all sorts of computer problems, but i think they are finally resolved, so here is dylan in her costume and jack-o-lantern shirt from grandma:

fun with dad

here is a 30 second video of jim making dylan laugh. so cute!