Sacred Places

Note: I wrote this post a month ago, but today seemed like a good day to post it.

I think it was Emily Dickinson who said "my friends have made my life". I have found this to be so in my own life. My friends bring color and vitality to what at times can prove to be a menial existence. One of my favorite life-experiences is Bible study with "the girls" headed up by Darlene McDonald, whom I consider to be my spiritual mom. I have grown up in her house as much as my own and her family has proven to be invaluable to my growth as a human being. God has blessed me time and time again through them.

Anyway, I wanted to record a little picture diary of Bible study for when I am far, far away in Arkansas. I also wanted to share with anyone who happens to read this blog the fun we have studying the lives of saints and sinners, men and women, husbands and wives, and Jesus. I also think it will be good for those who are even now far, far away (Lauren, Adrienne, Lydia, and Sarah - we miss you!) to remember their time there fondly.

This is one of many entrances to the "Secret Garden", so dubbed by Mrs. McDonald. The best Bible study always happens here!

Delightful surprises abound in Mrs. McDonald's garden. I don't quite know how she does it, but she is a master homemaker. I always like to observe the little touches that make her house a home.

Bible study gets underway as Stephanie brings the treats! Mrs. McDonald is a wonderful hostess. I don't ever remember a time I felt out of place or unwelcome in her home. She always makes sure we have lots of delicious treats on which to snack!

Mrs. McDonald teaches. She probably doesn't like this picture much, but it was the only one I had of her and I had to include it for when I am somewhere deep in the recesses of Arkansas!

Joanna and Allison look on as Mrs. McDonald teaches. Joanna looks slightly perturbed because I had been trying to induce her to smell some fresh dill I had just picked from the garden. One of my favorites activities during Bible study is the time we take to exchange prayer requests. Last month Joanna's prayer request was that I would stop harassing her with dill.

This cow has been a staple of the McDonald's backyard since before I can remember. I have always harbored a secret desire to get married in their backyard with this cow looking on.

I don't know if you can read what it says on this rock, found nestled in the Secret Garden, but the reference is from Isaiah 58. I think Mrs. McDonald has been a living testimony of these verses:

"And if you give yourself to the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then your light will rise in darkness and your gloom will become like midday. And the LORD will continually guide you, and satisfy your desire in scorched places, and give strength to your bones; and you will be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water whose waters do not fail."

Yes, some of my better memories have been made in the Secret Garden. It is a sacred place.

Odds and Ends

Our garden is growing! I feel guilty that I haven't been over to Edwardsville to check on it since we first planted it some weeks ago. It seems that Karen is doing a good job caring for it though. Every time I see Aaron he asks me "how's the garden doing" as if I live right down the street from Karen instead of from him. It's a bit annoying, actually. So, Aaron, now you know how the garden is doing. As far as I know though, we are still gnome-less.

In other news, I'm almost done setting up the last 5-day Clubs for the summer. I'm just waiting to hear back from Nathan at the YMCA. I wish he would hurry up. I can't wait to post all seven full weeks of clubs on the wall of my cubicle, pump my arm in victory, and immediately receive a phone call from a club hostess saying that she has to cancel due to an unforeseen emergency. Ah, the unpredictability of summer ministry.

I am currently contemplating summer travel plans. I sort of want to head south and scope out Little Rock before I become a resident of that fine city, and I keep meaning to visit Adrienne, located somewhere deep in the heart of Texas, and witness her marital bliss firsthand, but have yet to actually do it. I also made tenative plans to go to Chicago with Karen and visit all the museums there. Joanna, Amanda, and I were planning a trip there (are planning a trip there?) this summer but I know they won't go to the museums with me. I know this because when I asked Joanna about it she made a rude noise which, when translated means, "yeah, right".

Today at work one of my co-workers was singing a song about Helen Keller and her hips (your guess is as good as mine) and my other co-worker Joe (love him!) said "get away from me, Helen Keller, you're grossing me out!" I couldn't stop laughing. There was just something about a soon-to-be journalist saying the phrase "you're grossing me out" that struck me as highly hilarious. Maybe you had to be there, or maybe you have to know Joe, or maybe you have to work with a bazillion crazy kids all day to get the hilarity of this moment. It were funny (grammatical error intended).

I think that's all the news to be had around here. I keep meaning to brew a cup of Irish Breakfast tea and finally, finally, sit down and finish reading the Lewis book. It still hasn't happened. The box of tea sits forlornly in the cupboard, unopened, and the book stares up at my from my bedside table every time I enter the room. It is angry about being neglected for so long. Sometimes I pick it up and carry it downstairs, meaning to crack open its pages and read, but something inevitably distracts me. This only serves to fuel its anger. I expect a mutiny pretty soon; Lewis will not be ignored forever.

Time for bed. I know this because I'm giving inanimate objects personalities. Again.

Goodnight!

Tilling the Land

I love to till the land. Now, when I say I love to "till the land", what I really mean is I love the idea of tilling the land (probably a hangover from my Little House on the Prairie days). A few weeks ago my friend Karen and I hatched a plan to turn her backyard into our very own vegetable garden. I was envisioning us kneeling in the dirt weeding, patting the head of our adorable garden gnome, throwing our heads back with laughter as we picked our bountiful harvest, and finally turning our efforts into delicious dishes which we would serve with obvious pride and delight to our admiring friends.

It turns out that while I was envisioning this dream world of gardening paradise, Karen was planning it out and she expected me to do actual work, which included dirt under my fingernails, sweat on my brow, and finally - the greatest insult - she expected me to do all of this completely gnome-less. This weekend when we were at Lowe's picking up our vegetables, Aaron ponder the purchase of a plastic owl, but an actual gnome has yet to materialize (unconscionable!). What follows is a picture journal of our journey to garden-dom (you will notice the decided lack of gnomes).

Karen's dad breaking ground. I didn't get there early enough to help with this part which was highly disappointing to me because I love to till. Still, lookin' good Mr. B!
















Karen and her family are planners; left to my own devices I would have just aimed the rotor-tiller and gone to town. Karen's mom is pictured here surveying their good orderly work.















Finally! Our beautiful garden plot! We emptied forty bags of topsoil and mushroom compost into this little garden, but at the end of the day we could stand back and view our labors with pride.












The above pictures are from the first weekend alone. This last weekend found me, Aaron, and Joanna piling into my car for the trip into Illinois (the home of the venerable Karen). When we go to her house for the day we usually call out "not it" and scurry to someone else's car. This weekend was my weekend to drive however, and I didn't really mind at all. It was the perfect excuse to unleash Mark Driscoll onto a completely captive audience. At the end of the day Joanna was begging for more of his sermons and I was feeling pretty satisfied with myself.

This last weekend was a bit less sunnier than the previous one, although this weekend we didn't have to face THE IVY, that leafy-green bane of my existence. Last weekend I almost lost my life yanking out a stubborn bit of it. Funny story: Karen's dad was still measuring the garden and with nothing to do but watch (boring) Karen decided to put us to work de-ivying her back fence. We set to work and I soon decided it wasn't for me. I began to half-heartedly pull at the ivy-covered fence and talk to my neighbors.

Joanna didn't engage me as she clipped away at the ivy with her shears, Aaron was breaking up a large tree-branch and couldn't be bothered, and Karen was going back and forth from the garden plot to the fence. I was the only one talking, or singing, as the mood struck me, but pretty soon I became intent on pulling out this extremely stubborn ivy root. I yanked and yanked and yanked and finally it came loose, sending me sprawling onto my back, almost head-over-heels into the neighbor's lowered concrete driveway. I jumped up and pointed out to Aaron that I had almost been killed. I think he rolled his eyes at me. I looked around for additional sympathy, but there was none to be had. So much for friends...

Anyway, this weekend went a lot smoother. No near death experiences. Here are the pictures from this weekend for your viewing pleasure.

Poor Aaron spent a decidedly long time planting the onions after Joanna and I plopped the lettuce, zucchini, peppers, and tomatoes in the ground and blithely went off to other projects.















The other project Joanna and I tackled was hosta-planting (whatever those are)! Karen was like "act like you're digging a hole" and I'm like "I am digging a hole!" all nine of them. Joanna is in the background, serenely looking on. Her job was compost-mixer. Lucky...




















These are all the pictures I have at present (until I can steal more from Karen's Flickr account). The garden is my summer project and it has been a tremendous amount of fun. After a day of gardening we hole up in Karen's cozy living room and talk about theology, relationships, patriotism, C.S. Lewis, and Canadian citizenship while drinking tea and eating brownies. Sometimes Joanna serenades us with piano sonatas (or tries to drowned out the theology talk, no one really knows) and sometimes we pile back into the car and go to Annie's for custard. We are a happy little lot. The only thing that could possibly make this anymore enjoyable would be the addition of a garden gnome.

We'll see what next weekend holds...