Wednesday, April 16, 2014

just for kicks.

Happy Holy Week to you, friends! I hope you have all continued to have a blessed Lenten season and are eagerly anticipating celebrating THE glorious resurrection Sunday in just a few short days. It truly is my most favorite day of the year.

In honor (and out of sheer excitement) of Easter being just days away, I thought I would share some of my favorite pics of previous Easter celebrations...just for kicks. So here they are in no particular order:

on becoming our true selves.

Today's reading:

The more we get what we now call ‘ourselves’ out of the way and let Him take us over, the more truly ourselves we become. There is so much of Him that millions and millions of ‘little Christs’, all different, will still be too few to express Him fully. He made them all. He invented— as an author invents characters in a novel—all the different men that you and I were intended to be. In that sense our real selves are all waiting for us in Him. It is no good trying to ‘be myself’ without Him. The more I resist Him and try to live on my own, the more I become dominated by my own heredity and upbringing and surroundings and natural desires. In fact what I so proudly call ‘Myself’ becomes merely the meeting place for trains of events which I never started and which I cannot stop. What I call ‘My wishes’ become merely the desires thrown up by my physical organism or pumped into me by other men’s thoughts or even suggested to me by devils. Eggs and alcohol and a good night’s sleep will be the real origins of what I flatter myself by regarding as my own highly personal and discriminating decision to make love to the girl opposite to me in the railway carriage. Propaganda will be the real origin of what I regard as my own personal political ideas. I am not, in my natural state, nearly so much of a person as I like to believe: most of what I call ‘me’ can be very easily explained. It is when I turn to Christ, when I give myself up to His Personality, that I first begin to have a real personality of my own.

From Mere Christianity
Compiled in A Year with C.S. Lewis

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

instalife: volume 2

Happy Wednesday, peeps! And happy 2nd to last week of Lent. We are almost there -- almost to the day where we get to celebrate the glorious resurrection of Jesus Christ. Woo hoo and hallelujah!

I thought I would continue this post series and give you another dose of my life on the gram of insta. In looking at a lot of insta feeds over the past few weeks, I can safely say that I most certainly do NOT have an eye for photography or art in any way, shape, or form. My pics are about as unartsy as they get, but they serve their purpose: to document and celebrate life. Word.

So here it is, in no particular order:

gloriously delicious pizza from Cavillis...'nough said 

the whole fam dam, all smiles, posing with the Pop's birthday bike

snapshots from my dear 'ole Dad's 62nd birthday celebration

my first attempt at irish soda bread...can't say I hated it since I ate the whole pan (not in one sitting, of course)

my victorious Bananagrams board - beat the Pop's in a grueling hour+ round

me and my loves

quite possibly my favorite instagram pic that I've ever captured: Crystal running the 1/2 marathon, in a state of utter and complete joy

Saturday morning Starbucks with these two...and, oh yeah, styling by Mere

the cutest little fairy you ever saw on a scooter

a Sunday afternoon cupcake picnic

getting sassy with the bubbles

backyard fun on a sunny Sunday

pure Texas sky goodness...breathtaking even over a freeway

seesterly love at Steph's wedding

family love at the wedding

rockin' it out on the dance floor, like a boss

a beautiful verse for the Easter season and an excellent way to end the post

Monday, March 31, 2014

C.S. Lewis: on glory

[And this brings me to] the other sense of glory—glory as brightness, splendour, luminosity. We are to shine as the sun, we are to be given the Morning Star. I think I begin to see what it means. In one way, of course, God has given us the Morning Star already: you can go and enjoy the gift on many fine mornings if you get up early enough. What more, you may ask, do we want? Ah, but we want so much more—something the books on aesthetics take little notice of. 

But the poets and the mythologies know all about it. We do not want merely to see beauty, though, God knows, even that is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words—to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it. That is why we have peopled air and earth and water with gods and goddesses and nymphs and elves—that, though we cannot, yet these projections can enjoy in themselves that beauty, grace, and power of which Nature is the image. That is why the poets tell us such lovely falsehoods. They talk as if the west wind could really sweep into a human soul; but it can’t. They tell us that “beauty born of murmuring sound” will pass into a human face; but it won’t. Or not yet. For if we take the imagery of Scripture seriously, if we believe that God will one day give us the Morning Star and cause us to put on the splendour of the sun, then we may surmise that both the ancient myths and the modern poetry, so false as history, may be very near the truth as prophecy. 

At present we are on the outside of the world, the wrong side of he door. We discern the freshness and purity of morning, but they do not make us fresh and pure. We cannot mingle with the splendours we see. But all the leaves of the New Testament are rustling with the rumour that it will not always be so. Someday, God willing, we shall get in. When human souls have become as perfect in voluntary obedience as the inanimate creation is in its lifeless obedience, then they will put on its glory, or rather that greater glory of which Nature is only the first sketch.
From The Weight of Glory
Compiled in Words to Live By

Friday, March 14, 2014

happy birthday, poppala.

Since he is my most faithful reader, I cannot help but post a birthday blog wish to the best dad ever. 

I am exceedingly grateful to call this man my father and can't imagine life without him. He doesn't take life (or himself) too seriously, has amazing musical talent (which I clearly inherited - ha), and has an endless supply of classic dad jokes. He is always trying to make me laugh and was always up for fun growing up (tickle monster, amusement parks, music videos at six flags, countless games of scattergories/bananagrams/catch phrase).

I love his child-like spirit and love seeing him be silly as a Paw-Paw now to his grandbabies. They adore him and I can't help thinking back to my childhood when I see him engaging with Hay and Mere in such a sweet way. It is such a blessing to witness.


I will never forget him waking up in the morning to see me off to school, always ready with my toasted bagel EXTRA cream cheese and a smile on his face. He always sent me off with a "Jesus bless your day." And then, when I broke my wrists, he was right there again, serving me as the hands and feet of Christ. He was constantly checking on me, bringing me countless drinks, snacks, and driving me to all my PT appointments.

But beyond all that, I treasure his faith in Christ and his desire to daily live out the gospel in a tangible way. What a gift to have a father who desires to please our Heavenly Father.

So Happy, Happy Birthday, to my dear 'ole Dad. You are a husband, father, Paw-Paw, brother, uncle, son, and friend. But most importantly, you are a co-heir of the Kingdom of Christ, a son of the Almighty, created in God's image...and for that above all, we celebrate your life.