Inga

Do you have those types of friends you could sit down with for hours talking and still have more to say?

The ones you are eager to share the vulnerable side of your heart with because you want them to know you and you can trust them to safely & nobly hold you even with all your wounds and weaknesses?

Friends you can laugh with one moment and cry with the next and it's real and normal?

I met Inga in Kansas City. Our mutual friend Leeza was always encouraging us to meet because she thought we'd get along smashingly, but it was not until after Leeza moved back to South Africa that Inga and I connected. I can't remember the day, but I remember thinking...wow, I'd like to be friends with this person.

Recently Inga and her precious family moved back to South Africa and I've been surprised to discover how lonely I've felt over her absence. She touched something in me at a deep level and I think maybe I became more in her presence.

Inga likes to keep busy and is a social connector. We led a woman's bible study together and walked through the book Captivating by Jon and Staci Eldridge. She kept saying "Let's only let x # of people into the group, but just about every week of the first month there were new faces she'd invited. I'd laugh knowing that she so values connection and community that she just couldn't help herself.

People are drawn to Inga like fireflies to light. This really is not an exaggeration. She carries light inside of her - I know it is the light of Jesus Christ and although some could not necessarily name the source they are hungry for a taste of whatever it is. Inga has a natural and un-dominating authority about her that says it is safe to share, but there's going to be no nonsense about calling out the truth. She's sympathizing with you one minute and then subtly slipping in the truth above the pain. It's is just a given if you are going to tell your story she is likely going to help you rewrite the wounded parts.

We each have 3 younger children and the Raw's are a family you call up 30 minutes before the hour and say "hey come on over and grill" and they're actually game for the party. We'd let the kids tear it up in the back yard, acting like LOUD and crazy monkeys without having to apologize because Hannah smacked Gabriel or Gabriel shoved Isaac. It was real life lived in real time and I never felt like I had to apologize if it was raw, full of snotty noses or even silly.

Inga is intentional and unafraid of giving time to see others walk victorious. In a battle, she'd be fierce and I'd choose to fight along her side most any day; we may both be quaking in our boots, but I'd count on her to draw her sword and swing to the end.

We need Marvelous Comrades in our life's and I am blessed to have several.

I just happen to be highlighting Inga because my heart is missing her.

I miss rummaging through her kitchen cupboards for little snacks and tea which always tasted better because it was at her house.

I miss talking. When it felt like I had come to the end of my rope Inga would be one of those who'd talk me straight.

I miss the laughter.

I even miss the tears.

I drive by her house and even after I've passed I find myself glancing in the rear view mirror at the mosaic lamppost out front because I've been indelibly marked by the light which came from that house.

Friendship...it is a beautiful thing.

Sometimes Faith Looks Like...

Sometimes faith feels like you are walking into the deep



At times if feels like you are right on the edge of falling


Sometimes it just feels shrouded in shadows



But usually if you look deep enough into a matter and fix your eyes on Jesus you will find the cross - even in the midst of a winter season.

There are rare moments when I surprise myself with a surge of faith. The kind that does not just believe in miracles or visitations, but expects them to show right then. I know this is the gift of faith rising up and for a moment I get a glimpse of who I was supposed to be before the fall, before the doubt and before the separation that sin causes between spirit and soul.

Those kind of faith risings are moments where I actually experience being seated in Christ Jesus in heavenly places at the right hand of the Father - it feels like who I really am meant to be and I like it...not the power, but the authority to be above the sensation of always living low, feeling low and looking low.

Reality..... those moments fade too quickly and I am once again standing on the boardwalk looking out over the edge and thinking....jump? You've got to be kidding.

Jesus is not afraid of this in me, although at times I envision that he might want to give me a good shake, in a sweet, non-abusive sort of way :), and say something like....

MARCIE - will you believe in me and me in you?

Six Things and the yellow chair.

This says...KELLY.

I have a friend who changes her decor like the rest of us change our underwear. Shhhh. Don't tell anyone I said underwear. (I just want to snicker and start making under there? under where? jokes)

It's a part of her personal DNA and nothing to apologize for.

I believe strongly in BEAUTY as more than a concept to ponder and wax on about in ethereal terms. Beauty is not just something I visit at a museum. It's found in the everyday moments showing up in the sound of laughter, words on paper, touch, color, how well we love.... Beauty is meant to be a part of our everyday life's. God created and said it was GOOD and then He rested and enjoyed what He made. It wasn't a "well that's done...let's move on to the next task shall we", but more of a savoring and delighting in that which was complete and formed.

We were created by a magnificent Creator; so it stand to reason that beholding and constructing beauty are part of expressing the image of God. I would go so far as to say we cannot NOT create wherever we are and creating done in the palm of the hand of God is worship. What I mean by that is the kind of creating that God can touch regardless of whether the world would disdain it.

We've all been in homes where it's just easier to relax and enjoy because of the surroundings. That describes Kelly's house and her theme for the season is yellow. One of the many connections I have with Kelly is our kindred spirit to find a deal. She is the connoisseur of the garage sale and bargain rack and I LOVE IT! Kelly is one of the few people I would like to own a business with; I think I'd call the store "Quirk" because that would about describe what you'd experience. Everything from modern to French Provencal would be woven in the shopping palette. It would be a paradise for expression (in a healthy way :) )

So this bright and cheery chair is a shout out to my friend Kelly and to beauty....may we find it in the most unexpected places.

This says....REST with friends and enjoy a day at the villa.


This says....CREATIVE.
A glass flower vase faucet. I'd be freaked out some one in my busy bunch would break it (my favorite statue has a chip in it because of some sword swinging by little miss busy), but I'm imagining it with stones or glass marbles looking so serene with water flowing out of it. I'd just want to stand there and turn off the faucet and then on, off, on, off - faster...now slower.....you get my drift.

You can see this faucet at Hego Waterdesign


This says... I WANT TO HANG OUT IN MY ROOM.

For those who are trying to figure out creative, yet artful ways to share divide space with siblings this is a great way to do that. I actually think the storage / nightstand could be reconfigured to fit 2 bookcases back to back. The bottom portion would be a headboard for each kiddo with storage on the top, all the while lending a little privacy.

Check out the Italians at Dearkids for more zany ideas.

Check out that guard rail.

These stairs say....SMILE. (with storage to boot...these are my kind of designers)


This say ...RELAX.

I have fond memories of a trip I took with my friend Heather to Pennsylvania. We stayed at a Great Aunt's house and one of the things that captured me about her abode was the red claw foot tub sitting at an angle in the middle of the bathroom. I think the impression went deep because it was so out of the box and said...do what you enjoy.

I am torn over the orphan....

My soul is torn. The plight of the orphan quickly moves me to tears. I try to read as many adoption blogs as I can and have followed several families stories from start to present. Not only is there a hunger in me to read about people's stories, but I know that keeping faces and names before me makes the problem real. It keeps my heart tender to something beyond my little bubble.

Riley was given to us through the gift of adoption and I CANNOT imagine our family with out her. Us without Riley would not be us anymore. Her merge into our hearts happened from the moment we said yes. Actually it happened the first time I heard about someone else adopting her and the thought "I want that baby" zipped through my mind.

Gabriel was my great expectation, Phineas was my great joy, but Riley...she was my great reward. What an awesome transaction - all I had to do was say yes and she was the reward.

I am torn because there are SO MANY orphans - today - that need homes. There are more than 4,500 foster care children in Kansas and only 2,000 foster care families, leaving more than 2,500 foster kids without a home. In Missouri there are over 9,000 kids in foster care, most under the age of 10 and only about half of those are in a home.

Toddlers and teenagers whose greatest wish is a family they can call their own, but as the weeks and years go by they shove that dream down deep so they don't have to feel loss and pain.

I am torn because right now I have a full quiver with a baby and 2 other small children. At 40 I feel like my head is barely screwed on straight from Phin's birth.

I feel physically unavailable for adoption at this time, but emotionally I am a big tub of blubber. I know even my tears are intercession and maybe that is the portion I am to carry right now, but I think it is more that the intercession is preparation. God graciously confronting my heart in the present so I am able to quickly say yes to the future.

Nothing deep, just miles and miles sea

I have been way too busy using the space in my brain and calender reserved for computer foo-foo on construction bids, business emails and website designing for an art studio I used to work at. At times, I can smell the synaptic relays in my brain frying.

Before you think I am some computer coder let's lay down a reality check. I had little business saying yes to the website.

I'm like the person who gets a piece of corn stuck in between my teeth and I keep rolling my tongue over and over it all the while making strange sucking noises in the hopes I can swirl it out of it's little hidey spot.

I'm the big mouth that said "I can do that"

The website is the corn stuck in my teeth....and it feels tight in there. I keep making a bunch of sucking noises that sound a lot like...."Oh Jesus help me" and I know eventually something is going to give....it could be computer and maybe that would be good for me.


so for now -

in a moment of brainlessness, I give you miles and miles of sea Titled

On the Way to Nowhere by Evengeni Dinev (a Bulgarian freelance photographer and talented webdesigner.

I'm on a "Things I Like" kick....if ya like that swing then read on....if it doesn't float your boat than sail on in peace.

Today is about storage...maybe because when I sat down at my desk I had to push aside all the papers and misc. pieces of junk that have found residency there. I am actually a very organized person. I'm the gal my friends call when they need to put some order into life, but for whatever reason my office is always the lurking rebel in the organization family at the Adam's household. As much as I discipline my desk, it just goes and gets messy again. Bad Desk!!!!

So - as ode to organization....I give you the hidden stairwell storage by architects at Plasma Studio made for a home in San Candido, Italy. I like it!!

Things I like - vertical garden

I like this!

It's a French riddling rack transformed into a vertical garden for lettuces, arugula, Swiss chard, mustard, strawberries and herbs by Anne Phillips. (the riddling rack played a crucial role in the making of champagne for hundreds of years. Before corking, bottles are stored upside down to allow unwanted sediment to collect in the neck)

I love the idea of gardening. We used to have a H-U-G-E set-up in Wyoming. Really it was a little much and always, always a work in progress and just when the goods were getting tasty, we moved. We tried gardening when we first moved to MO at our apartment; raised boxes on the back patio. We mixed that soil with tender love, but those pesky deer wouldn't take NO for an answer so we rested our green thumbs for awhile.

We tried last summer to resurrect the thumb, but our schedules really put the kibosh on the party, so we are trying to breath new life this season. My mom is coming for a visit and if my husband has a green thumb, she wears the color as an accessory. She always wants to do a "little yard project" when she visits and who am I to say no to such free and enthusiastic labor? Last year she was out digging in the rain while I was in trying to get a handle on nursing a fussy 4 day old baby. [This is the woman who encouraged and helped arrange for my husband to blow in cellulose insulation into our attic while I was recovering from a c-section in the hospital. I do not know how they pulled it off because my hubby was with me every night ...sometimes very late, but he was there. I did come home to a LARGE patch in the ceiling where Joel fell through - that must have been a site for my mom as she was sitting reading to Riley and suddenly smash - there were legs ...dangling and kicking about.]


Mom's been prepped that "not much has been done" to those beds, but she is geared up for a new project and I will actually have the energy to help her dig - although, she is relentless. Frankly, I am better at picking out, planting the flowers and serving the refreshments, but I will be there knee deep in the thick of mud with my shovel. Just call me Frannie...the farmer that is.

All that to say is that if our garden doesn't really get off the ground this year, I think I like this vertical garden idea - I just have no idea where I'd get a riddling rack.

After the Heart

Here's my deep thought for the day which is coming in between wiping butts, snotty noses, scrubbing dishes, folding laundry and cooking up some butter beans and chicken. I am not sure if it is deep or wide, but it is something I am chewing on. It's one of those "aha" moments that happens in a flash, but I know if I grab it and chew on it for while, it might just change something in my little heart.

When we hit a crisis in marriage or a relationship we are usually after something…

Truth

Repentance

Confession

Real Communication

Time

An apology

A change

A chance to explain

A place to run

Someone to vent at

A person who will take the blame

Validation

Understanding

I've found that the only way to get THROUGH a crisis, conflict, question or pain is by mashing Jesus right into the midst of it. This solution always has a way of getting down to the root of the issue, because Jesus is after the heart.

My aha....Chasing after the heart of the matter is not nearly as important as chasing after the heart of the person.

It's the grace of love