Happy Trails

Yesterday was moving day--busy, hectic, fun and productive. Thanks to alot of help, our house is now empty and clean...our belongings on their way to Oregon. Spent the night at M's parents...are about to have breakfast and then hit the road. Headed to Aunt Gail's today in No. CA...with sadness, grattitude, and excitement at what lies ahead.

1 1/2 days



We have now officially begun our goodbyes...this weekend with the Mc's:Cormicks and Master's. Sunday, M's fam (sadly, Audrey and I missed that due to a high fever on her part.) Tonight, b's fam. Thanks to all of you who, over the course of the past few months, offered to have goodbye parties and such for us; and for understanding that we preferred the opportunity for a less dramatic departure...to say our goodbyes in a more personal and relaxed way. We appreciate the thought...

Ice Cream Trucks and Crunch Time



Here we are awaiting the Ice Cream Truck this past weekend. (We is Natá and Mike Hendershot-our neighbors and soon-to-be-tenants, and the McMasters who with their servants' hearts, offered to come and put some elbow grease into our move. And holy cow did they earn their ice cream. Mike says he simply would not have finished everything outside in time without Scott; Dina dusted and cleaned inside like a hummingbird on crack. 1 million thanks, friends.)

Did you have an ice cream truck circling your neighborhood when you were little? (Speak up, Lurkers!)

When we first moved here, M and I were delighted to hear the tinny-tunes of our local ice cream van. How cozy and fun, we thought. Sweet memories of childhood...of rainbow sno-cones (scant syrup), 'mystery grab bags' (remember those?), Push-Ups and how any popsicle from the ICT just seemed to taste 1,000 better than the ones in your mom's fridge?
Memories...light the corners of my mind....but back to the story:


Enter Audrey. Sweet and precious, the apple of her parents' eye. Also a laughably light sleeper. Awakes at the slightest crack of your ankle walking down the hall. Simply cannot sleep through ANYTHING (and yes--we tried everything to change this--banging pots and pans to make the house less quiet, putting her to sleep in her stroller while in public places. Alas, no. Our first lesson in the realistic ratio of Nurture: Nature.)

And then, in the distance, the call of the very same ICT bringing hell on earth to the lives of exhausted and sleep-deprived new parents. 'Please, no. Please, turn the corner--just not down our stree----ah CRAP. Ok, then at least just drive quickly by. But nay--how many times did she park her mobile crack-mobile right outside Audrey's window, tune reeling and reeling while our newborn waled her heart out, having finally just fallen asleep. And so this would go: the early afternoon round, the late afternoon round, and finally, the post-dinner round. Ah, perspective.



As Audrey became a toddler, the ICT still awoke her from naps. But slowly, slowly, it also became a source of amusement for A to hear the tunes coming down the block and she would dance happily as they passed. Until. Until the day that we bought our first ice cream (in her presence) and yes--you guess it: there is no peace once again when the ICT is near. With the hearing of a bat, Audrey jumps up and down--positively SQUEALING with ecstacy that the 'uhm-man' is coming. Obviously, we don't get an ice cream 3 times daily--or even every day. But when we insist 'yes, ice cream is yummy, but none today', she runs pitter patter to the door, begging to at least wave to the driver as she/he passes by.

Bust a gut



As most of you know, we are nerds that haven't had cable-tv for the past 18 months. Nonetheless, when we have the time and inclination, we'll catch a show here and there online. One of our favorites is the Colbert Report. Fiercely intelligent, thought-provoking, witty and hilarious. If you didn't catch the episode Thursday night, it is a MUST SEE (click here). Hillary, Obama and Edwards all make guest appearances while Colbert himself steals the show, as always.

Help wanted



There is an item that I simply cannot figure out how to pack: my dried wedding bouquet. Reminding me of one of the happiest days of my life, it is precious and I don't want it to get ruined. It's tricky because it's dried (read-fragile), a bit wide and unstable (because it was hand-tied). Currently, I have it sitting in a vase but I really don't know how to transport it. If I pack anything around it, the petals will probably fall off; if I pack it in a box without wrapping anything around it, it will rattle around. Ideas anyone?

Lord, help us



Oh the crap that happens on 'God's behalf.'

At the yard sale the other day, one of our friends and neighbors was telling us that her oldest son (10 years old) was at a sleepover with some kids down the street and that he was going to church with them Sunday morning--it was a Baptist church and my friend is Catholic.

Fast forward to yesterday...
My friend/neighbor and I are visiting again and she needs to let off some serious steam: her son came home Sunday night, deeply shaken and very very worried. First, he told her that in Sunday school he had been asked what his parents 'were'. When he told that they were Catholic, he was told that he and his parents were going to hell. Straight out. But luckily, he was also told, that he could make his decision and purchase his fire insurance right then and there--but that he should know that without a shadow of a doubt, his parents would make fun of him and that they would try to win him back to 'Satan's side.' She said that her son had nightmares all night, that he lay awake worried that Satan was in their house and was coming to get them (what he was also told in Sunday school).

My friend was angered, offended and deeply disturbed. She shared all of this with me because she knows that I am a Christian and although technically a 'Protestant', that I also deeply respect and attend Catholic services as well.

At first, my stomach was turning with the memories of how I as a young child attending Baptist churches, also 'scared the hell' out of all the kids on Armijo street, where we lived--but especially the Catholic kids. Oh yes, we had special tracts about why they were going to hell. I remember vividly pleading with my best friend, Rita, to pray this specific prayer so that she could go to heaven and I could sleep at night. I remember kneeling by the bed with her and leading her in that prayer. I cringe at that..mistaken zeal and for it's many victims. It was not ill-meant, but I still hope that Rita hasn't had the wrong idea of who God is and what kind of a relationship He wants with her...all these years, because of me.

But SERIOUSLY people: is that conversion? I'm sorry but give me a freaking break. Is it any wonder that we all 're-dedicated' our lives every New Years Eve after watching 'The Thief in the Night?' That so many of these people have had no lasting, personal and deep relationship with Jesus, himself?Is it any wonder that people have a hard time getting to know the one true God? That the diversity of people who were drawn to the loving kindness of Jesus when He walked on Earth hardly feel welcome in most churches today? Is there even a scriptural basis saying that this is the way God views these things?

I am not saying that Jesus was some docile relativist, or that all roads lead to Rome. Jesus said that He himself was the only Way, Truth, and Life.

But Scripture says alot of things that have to be understood in the greater context of who God has shown Himself to be. Just a couple of things that should scare some hell back into us. Just two examples: 'all who call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved' (what does it mean to 'call' upon the name of the Lord?) and Jesus said that many people will have done many 'great things' in His name, but that He will still say, on judgment day, 'I knew you not.'

34 years into my life I have attended- and worked as a youth leader with, most of the mainstream Christian denominations. I know people in every one of these denominations who, as evidenced by their love for God and the fruit of their lives, demonstrate that they believe His claim...and others who, despite their many vehemently-held conservative doctrines, show absolutely no evidence whatsoever, that they know this Man at all or believe anything that He says.

From the Inquisition to tracts on why all Catholics are going to hell--oh the crap that happens on God's behalf. Kyrie Eliason.

9.



This day in History: April 14, 1865. The day that John Wilkes Booth entered Ford's Theater and shot President Abraham Lincoln. Little known fact--and one that I am NOT proud of: my great-grandma, 'Gammy' told us that Kelly ok we are related to the aforementioned Booth. Supposedly (none of us have extensive family records), Booth was her fifth cousin or something like that. She also said that sometime, way back when, someone in her family had a picture of Booth in bed as an old man, shortly before he died. For those who may not know it, there are several theories/legends about how Booth really died. Add this one to the list-- but don't hold it against me. I'm against slavery and racism too.

This past weekend was a fun and productive one, not to mention exhausting. People asking you again and again what stuff costs is especially tiring; but as one of my neighbors pointed out: we are total yard sale amateurs. Apparently, we were doing everything all wrong and way underpricing our stuff. Mike believes that nothing at a yard sale should cost over a nickel, and I tend to sell everything-from appliances, to suits, for a dollar. Unless it's a knick-knack, in which case, I will pay you a dime for every item that you take off our hands. What can I say? Dusting my mom's tchotke's all those years has scarred me. Hopefully, I'll bet better by the time Audrey starts making arts and crafts that she wants us to display. Speaking of Audrey--she was with Grandma and Grandpa for Saturday and part of Sunday (loving every minute of it, of course)--but lucky for us she didn't see us giving away 200 of the 500 stuffed animals that she owned (past tense.)

Adding to the fun was visits from the neighbors who we have come to care deeply for--Pearl and Harry Baxter (who've become like parents and friends...constantly taking care of and looking out for us....Melinda O., Fabi, Mike and Natá (who will be renting our house!), Dee, Pia and Co., ....despite our excitement to be moving to Portland, we have felt extremely blessed to become a part of our neighborhood and to share these past couple of years together.

Our faithful, faithful friends, the Oduros brought lunch up on Sunday, as well as a care-package of practical items for the road trip north.


Here's a picture of Erika and Kern at the rehearsal dinner before our wedding. Unfortunately, I had to use this picture because--even though she is drop-dead gorgeous, Mrs. Oduro almost never lets you take her picture.

Erika is truly one of the most thoughtful people I know. I will never, ever forget how she drove over 2 hours in Los Angeles traffic with her 3 starving kids, to bring us a meal and fill our refrigerator with helpful meals, after Audrey was born. KSJ, Alexia and Elly are so good with Audrey and she adores them.

We interrupt this broadcast for a brief advertisement:
*AEI (Access to Empowerment International) is a non-profit the Oduro's started in 2001 to empower children and their communities through education. M is on their board and they are one of the reasons God took us to Africa in November. Check out their web site and consider whether you might want to partner with them as well: accesstoempowerment.org )

And of course, there is my loving sister, Kelly. Who came up with her smiling face, breakfast, and some sore feet from wearing some really great looking shoes to a wedding the night before! Kelly is a dear part of our family and we will miss seeing her more often. But in truth, we're just ditching her before she ditches us for Chicago in August.

As of today, there are 9 days left before moving day. Holy smokes.

A few pics of post-yard-sale hygge.








We will also miss our backyard, which we've worked quite hard to transform from a field of dirt...especially the beautiful river rock wall that M and his dad built...and our poppy's are finally blooming...but we also look forward to building memories at the cozy yard we will be enjoying in Portland.

12.

You know it's time to move out of California when...
you're coloring with your daughter and notice that you have given a pony highlights.

We are emptying out the cupboards and having many interesting meals as a result. Today's chocolate chip cupcakes frosted with marshmallow cream were a hit. Macaroni and cheese with black beans was kind of a strange pairing. D and M graciously consumed red quninoa risotto (power fuel of Inca soldiers, don't you know) and with curried pork roast. Desert that night was a rhubarb & peach coulis (last summer's bounty) with sugar cookies & vanilla ice cream. Tonight: improvised crab boil (á la Deb W.!)

ONLY 12 days until a very big truck comes to pick up our stuff. Left to pack: kitchen, Audrey's room and loooots of loose ends. Yard sale tomorrow. Note to self: manna rots when you collect more than you actually need.

We are so excited and cannot believe that we are actually about to move out of state, to a place where we know only a few friends of friends, aren't moving for a job or anything else. Some people think we're crazy while others really understand. All we know is that it became the desire of our hearts. We fell in love with Portland and instantly felt in our souls that this was the place for us. We prayed and waited patiently, watching with amazement as God has opened one providential door, right after another. Sadly, we will definitely be missing our friends and family here in CA. But it already looks as though our new B&B on SE 20th will be receiving many visitors from here and abroad starting from the time we move in. Denise has so graciously offered to fly up and help us move in, get settled, etc. That's a true friend!

Anyone need...

• CalKing headboard, simple, matte-white shutter-look. Has a tiny dent/scratch. (We've decided we actually just like our bed being on the ground.)
• Stainless Steel LG Refrigerator with freezer on bottom.
• Oodles of African paraphernalia (formal outfit, Ashanti chief stool, framed art, carvings?)
  
• Older dryer
  
• Queen box spring
  
• Mounds of miscellaneous junk?
  

Book Review:
This Beautiful Mess.

Early last Fall, Rick McKinley offered free copies of his book in exchange for blog reviews. Interested, I promptly responded, received my copy and read 'This Beautiful Mess.' Ever since finishing reading it in November, I have been at a complete and total loss in my ability to write this review. Let me rephrase that: I have written and re-written this review many times both physically and mentally, but am never satisfied with what I write, mainly because it ends up being way too long. 2 reasons for this:

1.) Brevity is not my strong suit.
2.) The focus of Rick's book, 'The Kingdom of God'--what it is, and what it looks like lived out here on earth, is no brief subject.

Due to these two points, the fact that I have refused myself to post anything new until I get this review done, and the fact that we're moving to Portland in 2 weeks and Rick might beat me up if he sees me on the street for taking a free book without keeping my promise, I hereby give up on trying to do Mc Kinley's book justice. Instead, here is my 2 paragraph summary as to why I highly recommend you read this book:

Jesus said that He came to bring the Kingdom of God. Some of the other things He said about it are seemingly paradoxical--that it's within us; that it's already come; to pray for it to come. As those who claim to be His followers, understanding and collaborating in this ' Kingdom' should be our foremost priority. But as Jesus also said, the Kingdom is like a treasure hidden in a field. As such, it takes alot of digging and searching to uncover it. Rick's book is a very useful tool on this journey--expanding our likely far-too-narrow view of what the Kingdom of God is (hint for all evangelicals: it's not 'just' heaven) and what our role is as collaborators with Christ--what it might actually look like when we ' let the Kingdom of God break into our everyday lives', as McKinley puts it. In our partnership with God, he also emphasizes the importance of finding beauty in the mess of this world, as well as peace with the pain of it. Chapter 11 focuses on suffering and includes brutally honest admissions from McKinley regarding his propensity to 'strategically avoid suffering' at almost any cost. Let's just say that I definitely related.

This book challenged me to repent of a hard-heart, cynicism and a general lack of love for a world that I am often disgusted by. A messy world that I often fancy myself too good for because, honestly, I prefer tidiness and beauty to a junkyard covered with smelly, decaying garbage (Rick's metaphor). In the process of my repentance, God revealed to me the disgusting amount of ' garbage' that I have contributed to making the world look more like a landfill, than a beautiful Kingdom. Through a series of revelations, I've been reminded that life in this world is like the final stages and pains of childbirth. (That's what Paul said, and it hits spot on.) This earth is groaning and straining and, for the most part, we only see what lies ahead, very dimly. This is a metaphor I can relate to. Surprisingly, this confrontation brought me a renewed sense of hope for this world and a fresh, reality-based passion for partnering with Him.