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Showing posts from April, 2013

helper.

We closed on our new house eight days ago! Matt has pulled more than 300 nails out of the floors. My dad has stripped rooms filled with wallpaper and there are many left to do. I am painting, unscrewing screws, scrubbing gluey walls, and taping doorways. There are three paint colors still stuck in my hair despite last night's shower.

Matt and I usually play the busy game. We scramble a lot and wonder where the time goes. But this week we proved that you can carve out time when you're on a deadline. You can squeeze in a few hours when there's something important on the list. Suddenly, work is truly 3/4 time and I'm discovering chunks of each day that can be spent at "new house".

Jasper loves to stop over. He chooses a screwdriver to carry around the house. He picks up chunks of carpet pad and piles them in the corner. He takes you upstairs and runs around his new bedroom with his arms out wide declaring, "Woweee!" It's a lot of space for a littl…

good is sneaking.

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They're right. Every year, Easter flies in the face of all kinds of crappy news. Every April knows terror and death, which hides the resurrection beneath the grief and pain of this world.

Today Boston is on lock down and West, Texas is flattened. The media leads us in a fruitless crusade to oversimplify people and motives and fear. It's exhausting... even from way over here in Minnesota.

Speaking of Minnesota, it's covered in snow. It's snowed a few times since Easter morning - since I had Zion's marquee sign to read, "Spring is here! Christ is risen!" Neighbors must think the latter is a joke, too.

The truth is, we struggle through spring as both physical and spiritual people. It's hard to lean into the tangible truth about an empty tomb. We have trumpets and streamers and breakfast together for one day. But now what? What does Easter mean for tomorrow?

People are still underemployed. Stillborn babies are missing from a hospital. Rosie's bronchit…

beshert.

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beshert is a Yiddish word that means "soul mate" or "destiny" or "meant to be".  and this weekend was filled with "meant to be's" that happened well.

we were meant to send Jasper to my in-laws where he could be pampered and adored for five days while Matt and I celebrated out west.

we were meant to have a few grown up days together - one long date filled with ocean air, mid-morning coffee, late nights, dancing, and martinis.

we were meant to gather around Berit and Gio, two people rooted in the wide love and values that have drawn them together. the sun shined on them and so did all of their friends and family. what a celebration!

we were meant to be out of town while our house went on the market. we didn't over analyze anything and remained hopeful. it turns out, hearing your counter offer has been accepted while standing on Malibu Beach is pretty perfect.

my brothers and i were meant to duck and dive through ocean waves this weekend. i h…

nine years.

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Matt showed me his house just a few months after he bought it back in December of 2003. It was our third date. I was only 22 and still living in a dorm room, so I thought dating a homeowner was a pretty big deal. 
It was the most out-of-date and ugly house I'd ever seen, but Matt beamed with pride on the tour of this little palace. He told me about refinishing the hardwood floors and his plans for the kitchen and showed me tile he'd use after gutting the bathroom. He had big dreams for this bungalow, but I hardly knew this guy and skepticism meter started to beep. It sounded like a lot of work for a 28 year old bachelor. Could he gut a kitchen and tile a floor and sheetrock a wall and tongue and groove a porch?
Turns out, he could. And he did. And through every project, the house became more beautiful and more...ours.
Now we've lived here together for five years. Jasper claps and points when we pull up. "Dap-per's House!" This is where we rebuilt a garage an…