do what you love what you do

/ abby hummel / 10 Comments

There have been some big changes for us in the works for the last several weeks and I’m really excited to share the news about moving forward into some new life adventures. So here it is: After almost three years of working full-time at a bank, I’m starting a new part-time job so I can focus more time and energy on teaching piano lessons from home. Hooray!

It’s difficult to know what to say about leaving the bank job. I have learned a lot, but it’s hard and sad to think about spending so much time and energy on something I’m not cut out for. I really struggled with many aspects of my duties there. I’m not a “type A, everything in it’s place, just follow the rules, order-without-beauty” person. For most of my time there, there hasn’t been opportunity to exercise my personal strengths and I’ve felt very stifled. Furthermore, the regular full-time job thing means that my employer controls most of my life. Someone else chooses when I have to work, what I can wear, when I can eat lunch,  if I can snack between meals, in some cases even when I can use the bathroom, whether or not I can have time off around the holidays to see family, how I can use e-mail and the internet, and so on. This is just part of life for most people, but it has weighed heavy on me this whole time.

I’ve been teaching piano in the evenings for about a year, and since that started I’ve turned down several families seeking afternoon lessons because I had to be at my regular job during that time. What? I can’t get paid fairly to do what I love because I’m too busy getting paid a lot less to stay at a job I don’t love? Who’s brilliant idea was that? We realized the absurdity of this situation. I would definitely prefer to be working from home doing things that I’m actually good at, so we began thinking about other boring, very grown-up topics that would impact this dream of responsible self-employment: health insurance, taxes, retirement savings, coupons, groceries, mortgage payments. It was clear that I would really need to work about 20 hours a week in some sort of flexible job, because music income would likely be a little shaky with school breaks and the variation of my students’ disposable income.  So a few weeks ago, amid prayers and tears and a big part of me wondering if those lame-o money details would ever come together…

…a really flexible part-time job landed in my lap.

This is truly a gift. It’s so hard to feel like you’re slaving away, that your work-life (and consequently, the rest of your life) is just one giant blob of frustration and deadness, reading countless application rejection letters and wondering if anything will ever get better. Maybe because I have been through a long season like that, I can say pretty confidently that landing this new job was not of my own doing. Even in my gratefulness, it’s easy to wonder “Why now? Why not two years ago?” I don’t know why this came together now. Or why it happened at all, really. But grace opened a door and we’re running through it.

Naturally, I am thrilled – I’ll be working partially from home with quite a bit of control over my schedule, and the flexible part-time hours will give me more chances to market my music business and connect with future students. This means… from here on out, it’s all on me. This is a big change and a new sense responsibility on me. I’m excited, and a little nervous about jumping back into the role of the confident self-starter I was before my current job. Hopefully it will not take long to excel in this re-entry into a life of true self-government. Of course I know I can do this, but I’m not going to pretend there is no anxiety or sense of uncertainty somewhere deep inside me as I prepare for this.

Enough blabbing about these details, though. Plenty of people get through their whole lives not even knowing what they’re good at or what they would do if they could choose anything. The point is, I’m 25, I already know I’m good at some of the things I love, and I get to make a living doing something I’m really passionate about. And be my own boss at least half of the time. That’s pretty awesome.

[photo from kara paslay designs]

off’ring up on ev’ry shore

/ abby hummel / 3 Comments

I’ve been thinking about my childhood as a “Missionary Kid” quite a bit today, mostly because I’ve been in the kitchen preparing my contributions for a Caribbean-themed potluck later this weekend, but also because I’m still reflecting on two movies I had on this morning about the missionaries to Ecuador who were killed in 1956. I would highly recommend that you do the same, as the stories of Nate Saint, Jim Elliot, et al., are told in both “Beyond the Gates of Splendor” and “End of the Spear,”  which are available for free viewing on Hulu, the poor person’s Netflix!  Thankfully my own family’s missionary experience, though trying, did not involve murderous villagers or loss of life. Of course I do not directly compare them, except to note that both stories show sometimes making “big” sacrifices or steps of obedience as a Christian can turn out in a way that makes you feel like you’re falling flat on your face if you don’t have a wider perspective to see beyond the moment. And by “beyond the moment,” I mean it might be well beyond your own lifetime that anything comes together, even. This is a hard thing to grasp hold of!

When I was eight, my family moved to Trinidad so my parents could serve as professors at a seminary that was a part of their church denomination. We were there for two years, moving back to the US when I was ten. Here I am with my two younger sisters. We’re next to “Sister Ross,” the woman who cooked for all the faculty and students (probably ~30 people a day?). This picture is out the side door of the cafeteria – notice there is no glass on the windows? And no doorknob? We were truly in “the bush,” experiencing near 3rd-world conditions! I am especially remembering Sister Ross’ hot, steamy kitchen as I saute sliced plantains and boil chayote squash on this outrageously humid June afternoon

hungry cat, Sister Ross, Bethany (5), Abby (8) and Naomi (3)

Just some commentary on our appearance: We all had hurache sandals, but mine were multicolored because there were no more white ones in my size when we got them. I didn’t like not matching my sisters in our shoes, and I was really frustrated that I had outgrown the sweet acid wash denim outfit that Beth so fashionably models in this photo. But seriously… isn’t little Naomi the cutest thing you’ve ever seen? She was probably 3. And that poor cat is probably the most pathetic animal to ever walk the planet. I think I remember that we were not allowed to play with her.

Experiencing significant life upheaval at a young age, like if your mom begins working outside of the home while you are all adapting to another culture, has a way of changing how a child sees the world. I was a precocious girl, very conscious of the culture shock we faced in both directions – moving to Trinidad and moving back to the States a few years later (the move back to the US was infinitely harder) – and I can’t remember much about life before this time. Plenty of my memories are of fun and carefree kids: playing outside in the rain (even the rainwater was warm!); eating fresh mangoes; our first puppy “Scooby”; seeing parakeets perched in the trees and telling my mom “I didn’t know those actually lived anywhere for real… I thought they were from the pet section at Meijer!”;  little lizards everywhere; and our special trip to the one McDonalds in the whole country where I got a Polly Pocket in my kids meal.  But there were challenging aspects that I remember, too: We went down there with practically nothing – personal belongings like clothing, homeschool books, toys, etc., for our family of five fit into eight trunks, and yet the neighborhood kids thought we must be princesses because we each had a Barbie; We could barely understand the “English” spoken there; Some of the food served to us was really gross, like pigs foot soup, and yet we obeyed my mom’s “look” that said finish your plate and if you say anything I swear I will kill you on the way home;  cockroaches the size of my nine-year-old hand and toads the size of a dinner plate; and on several occasions our small home was burglarized while we were sleeping.

One of the other frustrating things about life in Trinidad was that church took FOREVER. I mean it. Like 2-3 hours. And we would sing the same songs over and over and over. No air conditioning. Some Sundays it truly felt like torture – the hard pew, the sweaty back, the people behind us petting our pretty blond hair. And yet, I have to smile every time I think of this chorus we must have repeated at the beginning and end of each service for two years worth of Sundays:

The name of the Lord is a strong tower,
The righteous run into it and they are safe.

While I was old enough to know about some of the difficulty we all faced, this was an experience that has made my life richer and brighter, and I’m enjoying the memories these tastes and smells trigger for me.

Grandparents visited us the second year - with Poppa at Maracas Bay. He played in the waves with us, and it was the first time I'd ever seen him without that toupee.

For Thy Church which evermore, lifteth holy hands above.
Off’ring up on ev’ry shore , her pure sacrifice of love.
Lord of all, to Thee we raise
This our hymn of grateful praise!
– For the Beauty of the Earth, Folliot Pierpoint 1864.

“There’s nothing my God cannot do”

/ abby hummel / 1 Comment

It’s been a busy week, full of music, children, friends, and number crunching. I started off helping some friends with childcare and food after the birth of a new baby and immediately jumped into a week of vacation bible school at church. It’s such a challenge to juggle work and church commitments every single night, but I love singing with kids and investing myself in their lives. One of the reasons I love this is because I know music is one of the most powerful tools to firmly impress something in a person’s memory.  It’s pretty sobering to think that those hundred brilliant little minds are far more likely to remember the songs we taught than the stories they heard or even the verses they memorized.

And night after night, I made eye contact with the four- and five-year-olds, making eye contact, exaggerating my arm motions, smiling, encouraging them to repeat the words after me, teaching them

My God is so great, so strong and so mighty
There’s nothing my God cannot do – for you!

in some ways, I felt like I was teaching them a half-truth. Yes, of course, we instruct children about God’s sovereignty and power. But there is more to God’s might than the fact that He can do anything, and I feel a keen frustration that I start this lesson but will probably move away before they are ready for the rest of it. This first part, if understood without further explanation can lead to heartache, disillusionment and rebellion.  So as they grow into teenagers and adults, I hope and pray they will have more teachers and mentors to guide them through the hard and beautiful truth that this mighty, strong powerful God doesn’t always do the things you desperately wish would happen. And that God not doing those things does not mean He isn’t strong and mighty,  or that He is not working in the midst of pain or disappointment. This reminds me that I am outrageously grateful for the friends and teachers who have blessed me and encouraged my growing faith as we shared those lessons of discovery and trust.

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling.

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy inhabitation of the Most High. God is within her; she will not be moved; God will help her when the morning dawns. The nations rage, the kingdoms totter; he utters his voice, the earth melts.
The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.

Come, behold the works of the Lord, how he has brought desolations on the earth. He makes wars cease to the end of the earth; he breaks the bow and shatters the spear; he burns the chariots with fire. “Be still and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!”
The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.
– psalm 46, esv.

(ps, I know mom and grandma love the domestic updates: I transplanted a bunch of hostas last week and so far they are looking great)

And like I mentioned at first, there has been some exciting number-crunching going on at our house.  I’ll have more details to share later, but I am amazed at these answers to long-offered prayers. Our life is overwhelmingly blessed.

the holy words will fall inside

/ abby hummel / 2 Comments

I barely slept last night because it was so hot in our house. We are outrageously frugal with our air conditioning. I mean, as long God made cold glasses of ice water, electric fans and clinical strength anti-perspirants,  why should we start shelling out buku bucks to cool our home while most of the world lives in shacks without any sort of temperature control at all? We won’t close the windows and adjust the thermostat, we pledge, until we feel like we are absolutely dying. Friends, that moment of surrender came this morning about 12:45 when we realized the bedroom had not cooled down enough in two hours for either one of us to sleep a wink. In the insanity and boredom, we had a middle of the night pillow fight that finally wore us out enough to break into fitful dozing until the morning. Needless to say, I was completely exhausted and unexcited about most of life all day. After work I saw that a big box of books came, and I lazily thumbed through each one a bit in some effort to decide which one to read first.
Amidst the weariness I found myself so refreshed reading this paragraph, from my now top-of-the-list book:

“I was twenty-seven when I first read the story about the Hasidic rabbi who told his people that if they studied the Torah, it would put Scripture on their hearts. A woman asked him, “But why on our hearts instead of in them?” The rabbi answered, “Only God can put Scripture inside. But reading sacred text can put it on your hearts, and then when your hearts break, the holy words will fall inside.”
– “the scent of water” by naomi zacharias

I’m really looking forward to reading this and I’ll be sure to share my thoughts on it when I’m through. Have you been reading lately, and reading the sorts of books that really make you think?

just for today

/ abby hummel / 3 Comments

It feels like there is so much going on right now! Or maybe it is more accurate to say that my to-do and to-finish list is so long that my blood pressure rises when I think about it all. I actually feel much like I would in the midst of a stressful semester at college, with papers, tests, social commitments, and personal goals pressing heavily on me all at the same time. Of course I know these things will somehow all come together – or that if they don’t, my life won’t fall apart – but they create this sense of burden and obligation over me anyway.

Here is an annotated list of what I’m feeling like I need to get taken care of this summer. I’m not kidding, I have edited some things off this list for the sake of brevity and privacy.

GOALS FOR SUMMER 2011.
have Aaron help replace light fixtures in hall and kitchen
have Aaron help with redoing the whole freaking Kitchen
find art and hang the rest of the wall collage in the hallway, which includes scraping and painting the rest of the frames.
organize yarn collection that quickly spiraled out of control. Probably give some away.
have Aaron get rid of the big computer
have Aaron get rid of his books
get rid of a bunch of my books
OMG how do I have EVEN MORE CLOTHES I NEED TO GIVE AWAY!?? Do the less-cool clothes just asexually reproduce in my closet while I am at work?
Sort piano music
finish mirror collage on fireplace
paint brick fireplace
one more coat of stain on the outside brick
one more coat of paint on the garage door
finish the retaining wall
re-lay the stone walkway in the backyard
toss half the stuff in the linen closet
the laundry room. the garage. Oh my gosh. I know at least half of it is Aaron’s (stuff) too but I don’t know how this stuff spirals out of control so quickly.
sew covers for living room throw pillows
(gift project 1, started)
(gift project 2, planned but not started)
refinish a few places on the trim where it got scratched/dented/scraped
refinish the big dresser in the back room
try to get rid of junk from kitchen… I defs don’t use all my gadgets.
find out how to get important signature on retirement account paperwork
find out how to get my windshield replaced b/c of the crack
paint canvases
have a wine-and-cheese party
repaint some of the deck furniture
find a cheap lounger so I can lay out and work on things while getting a tan in my own back yard.

This is just the things I could write down while sitting here and not looking at anything. Does this make you feel stressed?

Anyway, in the midst of this all  I’ve been thinking so intently about things like “taking it one day at a time” and working on trusting God each day for daily bread, that is, in some way surrendering my innate craving for a preplanned weekly, monthly, yearly “menus” of what God will provide.  Not that I have already achieved these things by any means, but that I recognize the importance of striving for growth here.

Lacking time to record any further insights on this topic, which is hopefully more interesting than my outrageous homeowners to-do-list, here are a few articles and blogs from some great bloggers that have shaped my thoughts about accepting each day from it’s maker:

Wendy writes on Godliness with Contentment.
Ann writes about Hopes and Dreams.
Jen has some guest authors sharing about The Lord’s Prayer, word-by-word “This” and “Day“

we all struggle with forward motion

/ abby hummel

We have done basically nothing on the kitchen in the past two weeks. I like to say that real life got in the way. What really happened is that we snuck out of Iowa for a long weekend in Indianapolis and I have been wasting my whole life on the website Pinterest. As far as real life goes,  I work full time and come home and teach piano lessons in the evenings, so it does get hard to fit everything else in. Anyway, dispel your hopes of exciting pictures of a romantic and adventurous getaway. What I have to share is not all that exciting, especially when I admit that I took five pictures the whole time we were there, and four were of baby ducks we saw swimming in the canals.
The little Indianapolis weekend was excellent and fast. Maybe the most exciting part is that we stayed in a hotel. And we ate in restaurants. We walked around for the sole purpose of seeing what there was to see. We’re usually so very goal-oriented that it was great to have a (slightly) relaxed trip to just experience, explore and enjoy ourselves!
Here is Aaron, in front of a museum we didn’t visit. I took the picture because there were deer in it.

Deer statue

And we walked along the canals where we saw a duck family. We (okay, I) have an affection for mamas and ducklings since we saw a group of them on Lake Michigan during our honeymoon.

there were 11 babies in all

And a great bonus to the weekend was a trip to see my sister’s college graduation! Bethany is a little more than two years younger than me, and we have been told we look like twins and Britney Spears before she became creepy and chubby and drug-using and bald. In addition to being smart, funny, beautiful and classy, she is now a college graduate who is prepared and certified to share her awesomeness with a very blessed elementary classroom at an undetermined location this fall.

my lovely sister, photo by iva

The ceremony itself was long and we were roasting inside the gym. The fire alarms went off and Naomi said “Okay, well now we know why it is so hot — there is  a fire in here!” There wasn’t actually anything wrong so we got to avoid a scene of mass hysteria, and after cute little Beth marched her way across the stage, we made our way to a restaurant for dinner.  Dad and Aaron had an eating competition with their ribs. I think they both won.

I’m so glad I got to see my sisters, too.

We had a fun few hours together and then Aaron and I headed back to the hotel for pool and hot tub time! What a fun, fast weekend.

i pity the fool (kitchen, pt 5)

/ abby hummel / 7 Comments

If this is where we are for the fifth installment of the kitchen project, I am a little scared about how many posts this will take up. However, things are now looking hot and lovely along one side of my kitchen. For this I am glad.

looking over the island

Wow! What a difference. I don’t wish to misrepresent myself here: I couldn’t fall asleep the first night the sink was in because of how awesome the faucet looked. Joy bursts over in my heart every time I glance at it. The towel is behind the sink because we haven’t caulked between the counter and the backsplash tile yet and I’m trying to keep water from getting in there. Hopefully that helps.

it looks so much brighter in here!

This picture is a more accurate representation of the color now. With a shiny stainless sink in place of the grimy pink one, and a white-based countertop instead of the yellow one, it really looks like we added more lights already!
We were a little surprised at the way the tile looks after being grouted and sealed. Maybe you remember from the video that they looked a little powdery and grayish? They are definitely more yellow and brown than we originally thought, but I love the textured look and we’re still really happy with the tile we chose.

looking good!

The tile was remarkably easy to install. I am mildly allergic to the adhesive we used, so Jenny did that part of the job to avoid aggravating my rash further. Both the big mosaics and the border had a mesh backing, so we just lined the tiles up and squished them onto the tile glue. After Jenny left, I spent nine hours laboriously grouting 3/4 of the backsplash. It was awful. Then I realized I had the wrong tool, which was making my life miserable and wasting lots of grout. I purchased a $3 grout floater at Lowes and finished the last section in 15 minutes.

still need to cut out the tape and caulk the edge!

How do I feel after making these huge accomplishments? What do I want to say to anyone who might come against me in these conquests? I feel like a warrior, like a mighty champion, like a powerful and conquering victor. More specifically, I feel a little like Mr. T.
And I pity the fool who would undo what we have done here.

gift of self (kitchen, pt 4)

/ abby hummel / 4 Comments

We made quite a bit of kitchen progress this weekend. The internet may not have enough room for me to write everything that happened at the Hummel house during those few short days, but we have the highlights here. If you are bored and only care about my kitchen progress, just scan down and watch the video at the end.

Of first importance, our lovely friend Jenny came. Taking extra time off of her job at Hillsdale, she drove hours and hours alone to help me with hard manual labor for the whole weekend. When we first met in a freshman dorm, Jenny and I knew we were kindred spirits because we both grew up helping our dads build things. Our friendship deepened on a ride to Wal-Mart where we discovered other mutual passions like hot tea, well-raised children and traditional hymns. From there we led a small group Bible study together and served on a Christian students leadership team before living in the same dormpartment for senior year. So yes, we dissected various aspects of the royal wedding (the folds in her skirt extending to the train of the dress! trees in the church! such a tasteful bouquet!) and chatted about life and love while sharing deep thoughts and feelings during our visit, but we both have know-how when it comes to things like hammers, circular saws and power sanders so we made the most of our unusual similarities with my kitchen project. I don’t know many women who would take time off from work and spend a full day driving to help a friend demo and rebuild part of her kitchen! Jenny is truly one in a million.

Our first adventure included a trip to Lowes on Friday night… Finally! After  six years of friendship we could do a project together! All the male employees asking if we needed assistance as we filled the cart with materials needed for our weekend plans. I suppose it’s not every day they see two giggling girls loading a cart with porcelain tile and comparing circular saws, so we can’t blame them for offering to help.

having the time of our lives

We bought everything we needed for installing my tile backsplash. There were a few things that needed to happen before the tile could go up, but these challenges seemed more exciting than insurmountable.
The old countertop? Oh, we’ll rip that bad boy out, easy.
The sink? It gets a little tricky, but Aaron can help us.
What else could stand in our way?
Please, try to stifle your laughter.  We were doing the best we could and our first evening of ignorance was blissful.

It was pretty easy to remove the laminate from the countertop, which made the kitchen look like this:

so easy! I could demo kitchens for a living!

Then we had to start pulling the wood countertop off the cabinets. This was more difficult than the ease with which we pried off the laminate cover. There was a little swearing (all me) and for a time I tried to convince myself I could leave the counter as-is, add some oil and call it butcher block. But the lovely faux-granite counter was already sitting in the basement and we were at the point of no return, so somehow we managed to press ahead with the demolition. The wood was secured with glue and finish nails, so Jenny dug around with one of my little tools and got the practically-headless nails removed… What a woman.

nails in the counter

After the nails were out, it was time to remove the pink sink (oh happy day!) and get the counter up and out. We were planning to use my car jack to get extra leverage since the counter was so heavy and long. Aaron customized the length of an old, splintered axe handle for this undertaking.

look at him go

He wanted to hold it while watching hockey. Perhaps it felt like a stick in his hands, making the game all the more real to him.

Aaron watching hockey

So with Aaron’s help we disconnected the plumbing, ripped out the sink, and then we were able to pry up the old counter. I’m not going to lie, it was a difficult and crazy job. Jenny was a demolition beast. She has such a way with crowbars.

What a classy lady

You will see behind her the jack from my car. We used this to pry the counter up and it was amazing. We used the custom-length axe handle and got it right up under the edge of the counter. Twist, twist, twist, pop! The counter creaked off and we were able to take the whole thing out to the backyard in one piece. I imagined this process taking fifteen minutes. It actually took a whole day.

this was an excellent trick!

It was a very busy weekend, but we were so blessed to have Jenny with us. We are so grateful for the self-gift that she was to us during the quick trip. There are very few things as precious as time spent with a dear friend!
Overall the weekend included:
lots of splinters
3 trips to Lowes
2 trips to Ace Hardware
2 trips to grocery stores
2 hockey games

I will have more pictures of the finished counter and tile backsplash soon! I pity the fool who tries to take off the counter we so laboriously installed!

Here is the basic gist of this post in video format. I love how Aaron turns on the circular saw as if on cue when I’m talking about the support and shims he was cutting. There is also a preview of the tile we chose, and I mention that Aaron found our sink on the side of the road. That’s right folks, somewhere in the UP of Michigan, he got this baby for fa-REE.  We are unashamedly frugal. Unashamed!

717 days of waiting… (kitchen, pt. 3)

/ abby hummel / 3 Comments

It has been 717 days since we closed on this little house in the woods. Okay. It’s more like a little house that has some trees, right next to a bunch of other little houses but is near some  woods. Basically, we’ve had it a while and I have been waiting the whole time to do something like THIS:


Yes, that’s right. Starting to deal with some of the kitchen issues that add to the current “fug” factor. We have already done some of the painful parts of this kitchen project (like purchasing a range and counters), but a certain someone else is very busy and I have had to take these matters into my own hands if progress is to be made in the near future.  I came home from work today determined to get started. I did not waste time. Okay, I will admit, I did waste a little time because I was working in Des Moines and stopped by Trader Joe’s. (Oh fresh goat chevre, oh almond butter, oh apricot stilton, oh sugar snap peas: I love you.) But when I got home, I got down to business. Please note my oh-so-appropriate construction attire.
After I started pulling this stuff off with the back end of a hammer, we realized that a crowbar might be a necessity when I need to pull off the window trim. (Some to save, some to toss and replace later!) Aaron said something like: “We’re going to need some more tools. You could go to Lowes before they close if you want…” I love it when he talks to me like that.
(Side note: I got an orbital sander for my birthday last year and we still have to pick out my circular saw for this year. It was that, a jigsaw or a compound miter saw. Something about spring really makes me itch for power tools to use during the warmer months.)
Braving the rain, I drove to the hardware store and picked up two petite crowbars and attacked the rest of the laminate backsplash. Now it looks like this: In case you are wondering, this notebook paper on the side of the cabinet has the Nicene Creed written on it, for a daily dose of Church history and affirmation of our core beliefs as Christians. I wrote a research paper on the first council at Nicaea during my first History of Christian Thought class in college and I truly loved the whole process of accomplishing that project. Anyway, here it is:

And when that was all said and done, I scrubbed the sink. It has never looked better. Or maybe it has never looked worse, because at least when there is a little grime over the porcelain we can’t tell what a fugly color the peach actually is.
Now I have a big bag of trash to take out. Aaron says he wanted to try selling the laminate on ebay because it is, quote, “vintage.”
I am too lazy to follow his suggestion, so I will make a friends-and-family only deal here: If anyone wants scraps of “vintage” laminate for any reason, please let me know because I will be taking them out to the trash whenever it stops raining. Don’t all ask at once. 😉

sweet will be the flower

/ abby hummel / 1 Comment

It’s a lovely Sunday morning! We’re dogsitting for Chip‘s older brother, Baker, and I must have been a sight to see outside earlier. I filled a thermos of coffee from our french press and grabbed our camera, sure I would find something lovely in the park. Then Baker took me for a walk. I imagined a serene, contemplative morning and I was, instead, juggling a camera, a thermos of coffee, and a large dog that wanted to run when I wanted to be still and stay (or, um, pee all over everything) when I wanted to move.

So the little adventure went differently than I expected, but, of course, the woods were still beautiful. As the landscape displayed spring coming out of the dull grayness of winter, I kept thinking of a hymn from Scotland called “God Moves in  Mysterious Way.”

God moves in a mysterious way, his wonders to perform;
He plants his footsteps in the sea and rides upon the storm.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take; the clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break with blessings on your head.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense but trust him for his grace;
Behind a frowning providence, he hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast, unfolding ev’ry hour
The bud may have a bitter taste, but sweet will be the flower.

Blind unbelief is sure to err and scan his work in vain;
God is his own interpreter and He will make it plain.
– William Cowper