reverence.

"awe is the most reverent of feelings. you feel, when you are in awe, that you are human, that your mind is dwarfed by what it confronts, that you cannot capture it in a set of beliefs, and that you had best keep your mouth closed and your mind open whileawaiting further disclosure." -paul woodruff

another perfect wedding to take note of.

(via greylikesweddings)

“There is no use trying” said Alice, “One can’t believe impossible things”.

“I dare say you haven’t had much practice” said the Queen. “When i was your
age, I always did it for an hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many
as six impossible things before breakfast.”

-Lewis Carroll-

steampunk meets anthropologie

(via greenweddingshoes)

shalom

[an excerpt from cold tangerines by shauna niequist]

there is a way of living, a way of harmonizing and hitting a balance point, a converging of a thousand balance points and voices, layering together, twisting together, and there are moments when it all clicks into place just for a split second- God and marriage and forgiveness and something deep inside that feels like peace- and that's the place i'm trying to get to.

i have glimpses every once in a while of this achingly beautiful way of living that comes when the plates stop spinning and the masks fall off and the apologies form from the deepest places and so do the prayers, and i am fighting, elbowing to make more of my life that life. i want that spirit or force of happiness that is so much deeper than happy- peace that comes from your toes, that makes you want to live forever, that makes you gulp back sobs because you remember so many moments of so much un-peace. i search for those moments the way magpies search for trinkets in the drifts of snow, and i want those moments to stretch into hours, into days.

the word i use for it is shalom. it is the physical, sense-oriented, relational, communal, personal, ideological, posture that arches God-ward. that's the best way i can describe it. it's equilibrium and free-fall, balance and shake. it's a new dance, a new taste, the feeling of falling in love, the knowledge of being set free. it's that split-second cross between a fact and a feeling, something you would swear on in a court of law but couldn't find words for if you tried.

to get there, i'm finding, is the hardest work and the most worthwhile fight. shalom requires so much, so much more than i thought i would have to sacrifice, and it scrapes so deeply through the lowest parts of me, divulging and demonstrating so many dark corners. it's something you can't fake, so you have to lay yourself open to it, wide open and vulnerable to what it might ask of you, what it might require you to give up, get over, get outside of, get free from. it feels, sometimes, like running farther than you thought you could run, legs shaking and lungs burning, feeling proud and surprised at what little old you can do.

the spirit and the soul and the body and the mind are all connected, even though we've chosen to segment them, thinking things would stay more organized that way, like a cafeteria tray with compartments for pudding and green beans. but when we're copped apart, we lose the essence, the possibility of being aligned, connected, multiplying out into something more than legs and math formulas we learned in high school.

shalom is about God, and about the voice and spirit of God blowing through and permeating all the dark corners that we've chopped off, locked down. it's about believing and letting belief move you to forgive. it's about grace, and letting grace propel you into action. it's about the whole of our lives becoming woven through with the sacred spirit of God, through friendship and confession, through rest and motion, through love and silence.

shalom is the act of life lifting up and becoming an act of worship and celebration, a sacrament, an offering. it's about living in a world of movie theaters and shoes and highways and websites, and finding those things to be shot through with the same spirit and divinity and possibility that we see in ourselves. it's living with purpose and sacrifice and intention, willing to be held to the highest, narrowest possible standard of goodness, and in the same breath, finding goodness where most people see nothing but dirt.

i have been surprised to find that i am given more life, more hope, more moments of buoyancy and redemption, the more i give up. the more i let go, do without, reduce, the more i feel rich. the more i let people be who they are, instead of cramming them into what i need from them, the more surprised i am by their beauty and depth.

when we can manage to live this way of shalom, even for a moment, we pull each other up toward something bigger, wider, more beautiful, because left to my own devices, chances are, i will spiral down until life is nothing more than the mildew smell of my bathroom towels and the guilt i feel about all the things i thought i'd be.

the truest thing, it seems, is the biggest: the big idea of making a life with God, with honor, with honesty and community and beauty and the fragile delicate recipe of those, searching for the place where they all come together, where hope and struggle and beauty and tears swirl together into the best, brightest moments of life. that's what i believe about God.

i believe life is a bottle rocket, a celebration, and it requires everything we have, and it demands that we battle through fear and resentment, and it demands that we release our need to be the best, the prettiest, the most perfect and together, because the big thing, the forceful beautiful thing is happening already, all around us, and we might miss it if we're too busy meeting our parents' expectations or winning awards.

shalom is happening all around us, but it never happens on its own. the best things never do happen on their own, and shalom is the very best thing. in the same way that forgiveness never feels natural until after it's done, and hope always feels impossible before we commit to it, in the same way that taking is easier than giving, and giving in is easier than getting up, in that same way, shalom never happens on its own.

it happens when we do the hardest work, the most secret struggle, the most demanding truth telling. in those moments of ferocity and fight, peace is born. shalom arrives, and everything is new. and when you've tasted it, smelled it, fought for it, labored it into life, you'll give your soul to get a little more, and it is always worth it.

shalom.

“All those things for which we have no words are lost. The mind—the culture—has two little tools, grammar and lexicon: a decorated sand bucket and a matching shovel. With these we bluster about the continents and do all the world’s work. With these we try to save our very lives.” –Annie Dillard

a tribute.

i've been thinking about the close community of beautiful women in my life. how blessed i am to call them friends, my dear ones. i drink them to excess whenever i am with them, which in most cases nowadays, is never. we're scattered across the country but here's to the women i love, the things they love, and the things they do (in alphabetical order):

i know aly. a powerful woman if ever i knew one. a lover of words and literature, she encourages others to tell their stories the way they were made here on earth to tell them. she is a die hard sports fan, a model of a wife to her husband, roger, and an ever-present figure in her community, involved in every way. i admire her incomparable strength and i often crave curling up on her couch, drinking vino, and soaking up her accumulated wisdoms on life.

i know christin. she is passionate about skin science and personal wellness. even my brother can attest to her talent for spa treatments. and how can i speak of her loyalty to me? unsurpassed for years and years. someone i can cry to. and often do. amazing that my bestest will soon be my roomie.

i know emily. when she talks/sings your whole soul quiets down. time with her is better than time with any professional therapist. not only does she sing and soothe, but she knows. everything. talk with her, and you'll see what i mean.

i know erin. with whom i have an unbreakable "family" bond. i will never forget the confession of an old college roommate: "if only i was half as good a person as erin is..." someone i have wanted to be "just like" in life. i would trust her advice on anything. ever.

i know hannah. she's an epic woman indeed. witty to boot. fighting hard for human rights and kickin butt in law school. i don't know how she does what she does in one day but she thinks on her feet and does so with more confidence than anyone will ever see. she also gives the perfect gifts.

i know jenna. she is passionate about teaching. and teaching well. she is a deep well of information on the subject. the most nurturing of all my dear ones. she loves beyond herself and she takes care of me, even from far away. the perfect "talker-through-er." when i am a parent, she will be on speed dial.

i know kelly. together, we dream of the simple life. i admire her fabulously gifted sense of design and oil painting craft. and oh how she listens. i trust her with my life, my secrets, my aspirations. she holds them tightly and for that i am so grateful.

i know krista. another "family bond." a selfless soul. willing to drop anything at any time to ensure someone feels understood, loved, heard. the girl next door, exquisitely casual and effortlessly cool in how she carries herself and in her life views.

i know laura macfie. a woman who exudes independence. strong-willed and determined. the perfect project manager but with a huge heart and deep concern for others. i have learned a lot from that woman.

i know laura stone. a brilliant mind and dedicated to medicine. a fun-lover and such a beauty. she inspires "carpe diem" to all around her and when i'm around her, a smile always sticks.

i know lindsay breitenberg. my fun. the wanderluster. very rarely does an opportunity arise before her that she does not grasp with both hands. she is confident in herself and firm in her beliefs. she's willing to try...and she succeeds. a genuine, wild wonder.

i know lindsey merchant. she's always thinking of ways to include her dearest friends in her life. she is passionate about music, theatre, beauty and she invites others into that intriguing world. she is firm in her faith and we live inside each other's brains most days, it seems.

i know mary beth. a joyful spirit. a model of compassion. and her positive energy is contagious at all times. she was the perfect partner to counsel a group of girls with for a summer because she constantly gives of herself and never gives up on finding ways to do it.

i know my mom. where would i be without her? she's passionate about music and her family. she has been dedicated to the study of voice her whole life and has always found ways to exercise this creative outlet of hers. she sings when she doesn't want to because it is her gift and she teaches me to use my gifts. everything a mom should be and then some. i could not be more proud to say i belong to her.

i know riva. my lifeblood in college. an outgoing leader with a classic, mature soul. the epitome of a southern belle who walks in favor and leaves behind a clear trail as an example for others. she feels like home to me.

i know sarah. i stare at her watercolors and know for a fact that such refined art requires a steady hand, unwavering grace, and a soft spirit. she is, undoubtedly, a rare and admirable "true north" of a mother to her new son, liam.

i know stephanie boyd. she is kindness incarnate. she'll help you with anything and give you the confidence and hope you need to carry on. sometimes i feel these optimistic souls are most important in our world.

i know stephanie butler. my longest friend. just spend an afternoon with her. you'll feel you can change the world for good. this woman can inspire you to learn more and do more.

i know tara. my twin in so many ways. she has a life of art. she creates things that melt your heart because she pours all of her big heart into her pieces. you'll want to experience tara's beautiful work for yourself. for sure.

i know teresa. she's passionate about natural beauty...finding it, creating it, inspiring it in others. the most resourceful woman i know, dying clothes in coffee grounds. a saint and domestic goddess for sure.

i know tiffany. who is unmatched in her skillful wordsmithing. she is so wise. the best story teller i know. a true lover of style, non-profit, and truth. i could sit with her for hours in a coffee shop...oh wait.

i know the girls in my new small group. just recently met them. spent only an evening with them. but their personalities and accountability are soon to bring balance to my life. i'm sure of it.

these are some of the dearest women in my life. this is what they love. this is what i love about them. i am so grateful that i have walked/will continue to walk through life with them.

i'd do it just like this.

(via jose villa)

Be.

Lost

On a painted sky

Where the clouds are hung

For the poets eye

You may find him

If you may find him

There

On a distant shore

By the wings of dreams

Through an open door

You may know him

If you may

Be

As a page that aches for words

Which speaks on a theme thats timeless

While the sun God will make for your day

Sing

As a song in search of a voice that is silent

And the one God will make for your way

And we dance

To a whispered voice

Overheard by the soul

Undertook by the heart

And you may know it

If you may know it

While the sand

Would become the stone

Which begat the spark

Turned to living bone

Holy, holy

Sanctus, sanctus

Be

As a page that aches for word

Which speaks on a theme that is timeless

While the sun God will make for your day

Sing

As a song in search of a voice that is silent

And the one God will make for your day

riding boots, cable knits, and layers. oh my.

amee shalee

what makes life happier comes to this:

gifts freely given, that you never earned;
open affection with your husband and kids;
clear pipes in winter, in summer screens that fit;
few days in court, with little consequence;
a quiet mind, a strong body, short hours in the office; 

close friends who speak the truth;
good food, cooked simply; 

a memory that's rich enough to build the future with; 

a bed in which to love, read, dream, and re-imagine love;
a warm, dry field for laying down in sleep, and sleep to trim the long night coming;
knowledge of who you are, the wish to be none other; 

freedom to forget the time;
to know the soul exceeds where it's confined yet does not seek the terms of its release,
like a child's kite catching at the wind
that flies because the hand holds tight the line.
-Josh Weiner

happy september.

hello autumn.

welcome back.

i've missed you.

won't you lie down with me right now, in this september grass.

spark.

Along the way, I’ve collected more questions than 

answers, but I’ve fought for a few ideas that have formed 

a bed I can rest on, a life I can make peace with, a dream I 

can cling to. I’m not a doctrinarian, mostly because for me, 

doctrine is not the thing that God has used to change my 

life. I’m a reader and a storyteller, and God chose literature 

and story and poetry as the languages of my spiritual text. 

To me, the Bible is a manifesto, a guide, a love letter, a story. 

To me, life with God is prismatic, shocking, demanding, 

freeing. It’s the deepest stream, the blood in my veins, the 

stories and words of my dreams and my middle-of-the-night 

prayers. I am still surprised on a regular basis at the love I feel 

for the spirit of God, the deep respect and emotion that I 

experience when I see an expanse of water or a new baby or 

the kindness of strangers. 

I’m immeasurably thankful to have been born into 

a community of faith. And I’m even more thankful that my 

community of faith allowed me the space and freedom to 

travel my own distances around and through the questions 

I needed to answer. I’m thankful for the patience and grace 

I was given, for the forgiveness I was extended, and the 

guidance I needed. 

I’m thankful for God’s constant fl ickering and sparking 

fl ame inside me, planted in me years ago and fi ghting to 

keep burning. For a season, I didn’t think it mattered much, 

but now I know that tiny fl ame is the most precious thing I 

have, and that it can ignite a forest fi re inside any heart and 

can burn away a lifetime of apathy and regret and distance.

excerpt of Cold Tangerines by Shauna Niequist. 

(tasting her words and identifying with the essence of her memoir)

some goals set on my drive home.

for some reason, i set a few resolutions for myself on my drive home this evening after work. new year's resolution-ish. in the middle of the year. and i decided that i am going to follow through on these ones. asap. no matter how trivial they may seem to the onlooker, they all hold some level of meaning to me. and it's simply about time i've tackled them.

so immediately:

1. move out. into my own place. preferably downtown chicago. preferably wicker park.

2. join a worship team. or somehow figure out how to sing as a servant again. now that i am settled in back here.

3. paint some pieces. with scenes i  have been itching to get out on canvas finally. it's time.

4. start a photoblog to keep track of the wedding/engagement shoots and to direct future clients to.

long term:

1. write my book. i think about it all the time. so it needs to happen. and then maybe it might be good enough to make some money that i could donate to causes i'm passionate about.

2. learn to play the mandolin. and then the dobro. two absolutely stunning instruments. the sound of them brings about the same comfort level as a down comforter. i could listen to them all day. so i'd like to learn.

3. learn italian. 

4. practice my art therapy program with human trafficking/boy soldier victims. 

some big. some small. all invaluable. 

"Don't give up on something that you can't seem to go a day without thinking about."

i feel these images today.

and sad but true, i fear that this might be my reality and stance on love today...

why i wish i was raised in the south.

so that i could get away with a wedding like this one. 

my favorite look for bridesmaids that i've seen yet.

too bad i'm not a southern belle like i've always wanted to be.

sad day.

(via one love)

moss graffiti.

[how to]

i'd like to try this on the side of my apartment when i move to downtown chicago in a few months. 

love love love this idea.

also: 1. held back tears against this post.

2. streaming the ever perfect imogen heap. new stuff.

3. and in honor of my love for mischief lately.

the perfect summer mailing.

i adore these cards. to encourage affection.

from larkpress.

Don't let your mind get weary and confused 

Your will be still, don't try 

Don't let your heart get heavy child 

Inside you there's a strength that lies 

Don't let your soul get lonely child 

It's only time, it will go by 

Don't look for love in faces, places 

It's in you, that's where you'll find kindness 

Be here now.

(photo via sarah rhoads. song by ray lamontagne)