Karis :: Birder, Giggler, Listener to Hearts

There is something very surreal about a younger sister getting married. I can only imagine what Mom and Dad must be feeling.

Then and Now overlap and tug at each other when I look at her so happy with him, and I can’t help but remember the last two decades and two.

After all, this was the little sister who swelled our mommy's belly while I was five and six—old enough to remember the conversations with Baby through her shirt while Daddy held the camcorder.

This was the baby who made me so proud because her crib was in my room. We played peekaboo in the glow of the night-light in defiance of bedtime because her giggle was the best sound in the world.

This was the munchkin with the long lashes and the shock of crazy hair that stood up straight like something electrified in our family Christmas picture.

This was the kid who got a broken collarbone because my concern for the “rules” overshadowed my concern for her. And then she forgave me and never seemed to remember that it was my fault.

This is the little roommate who lay under me in her bunk and asked me to tell her about Heaven. So I did, and I never knew until our twenties that those late-night whispered talks had led her to Jesus.

This is the comedian whose talent for voice impressions from movies makes us howl with laughter. I am still convinced that she could work for Disney and make millions.

This is the peacemaker, the tenderhearted friend of every left out and lonely girl in the lunchroom.

This is the bird-watcher, the giggler, the listener to hearts.

This is the little sister who has become a best friend, an equal, an example of love to me.

Baby sister, beautiful woman, I am standing with you. As you promise love to each other forever, I promise too.

I promise to always be your friend,
to always pray for you and Mark,
to always be a loving aunt to your future babies,
and to always be your sister in every sense of the word.

From basement to palace

This is *way* overdue, but my office moved in September and I'm still excited about it!

Over forty people relocated from our basement "rabbit hole" beneath the Freshmen Commons to an elegant historical building with palatial columns, filigreed doors and watery colored glass. We are now on the first floor, which means that torrential rain will no longer flood our space with four inches of water. Yay!

Technically, it isn't a new place; the OGAPS office is actually returning home after a long displacement for renovations. In January of 2013, the University received a grant to restore our building to its original historical state. Here is an article from the TAMU times describing the renovation.

It's definitely an upgrade in every sense of the word, but I'm SO glad the actual moving is finished!

If you've ever moved, you know that a single person's accumulated do-dads, papers, and miscellaneous mess can be daunting. Multiply that experience by about 40, and you've got a pretty good idea of the task we faced. By God's grace we made it to the end with relationships still intact. :)

When the Jack K. Williams Building was built in 1932, its grandiose architecture would have made quite an impression. The Great Depression had made its paralyzing presence known across Texas by that time, and the farmer's sons coming to school from small, dusty Texan towns had probably never seen anything like it.

For many years, all of the University's administrative offices--from the President's office to the Registrar--were housed here. (Our suite actually still contains the original vault where student's cash tuition payments were locked!) For this reason, the building was originally called simply the Administration Building. In 1998, the name was changed to honor the work of former University president Jack K. Williams for his work to increase enrollment while preserving traditional historical landmarks on campus. 

The sweeping staircase in the lobby makes our building a popular spot for bridal pictures. We can see the photographer's flashes through the filigreed door that fills our suite's front entrance, and it makes me remember the fun of taking my own bridal portraits three years ago.

My favorite part of the building is the wide shaded porch that faces the University's green front lawn like a benevolent grandmother. When I sit with my lunch on the cool steps, the smooth columns soar upward to the fourth story roof above my head.

Here are a few more pictures of the details!

A letter to the bride

Little cousin, you were so lovely that weekend, radiant in your womanhood and your love.

You ran to us the night we arrived for your rehearsal dinner, all glowing and breathless with arms flung wide, and I felt like years and miles hadn't mattered at all.

You are no longer the doe-eyed little girl who made flower chains with my sister and begged us Olders to "be the bad guys" for your games. You no longer climb trees barefoot, sharing secrets with the Twin Cousin and concocting pranks for your big brother.

That was precious, but this, this new season you've joined us in--this is glorious.

You made those forever promises as you stood in your lace, and I leaned close to my own love and let the vows re-imprint themselves on my resolve.

You will see--weddings get a new layer of richness and meaning after you have your own.

The East Coasters were the last pockets of family to finally meet my husband. It felt like your new love and mine were initiated into the clan on the same fun-filled, rain-blessed weekend. Every outrageous game of Brandi Dog and Farkle, every crochet stitch taught--they turned our far-flung lives into community again and I remembered how much I love our family.

The couple that started it all: Grandma and Grandpa Beekman

Sweet cousin, I love you. I love the love I see in you, between you both, and pouring out to everyone within reach.

I pray you keep choosing love. Keep choosing humility.
I pray you keep choosing to open yourselves to friendships, even when they move away or get pregnant before you do or take a while to return your calls.
That you will have grace for the budgeting foibles that will come.
That you find a beautiful new "family culture" as you discover how to do the oneness of marriage.

Aaaaannnd I secretly pray that you move to Texas. (Because that would be awesome!)

A last-minute train ride to Turin!

Our tired team had just made it back to the hotel after that awesome evening of bowling and dinner with the students. "Do you want to come with us to Torino in the morning? They're having an encouragement time for the ladies there tomorrow."

What a beautiful surprise, plopped right into our lap! I was thrilled, but hubby was ecstatic. Years before our church's partnership in Milan, he had been on a short-term team to Turin and he still had many friends in that beautiful city.

The rest of the team planned to spend the day in Milan's historic center, so we left Chrissy in charge and gave her the team cell phone.

Early the next morning, we boarded a train!

Milan rests in a fertile valley ringed by hazy blue Alps. The view out the window was a gorgeous panorama of blue skies, red-tiled roofs, and flooded rice fields. (Who would have guessed that Italy was the place to grow rice, right?)

Turin has the kind of picturesque charm that can turn even a camera phone snapshot into something frame-able. I took this one at a half-jog as we crossed a street on our way to enjoy a delicious lunch at the home of one of the pastors. 

After lunch, I had a sweet walk and a coffee with Pam, and I realized all over again just how beautiful her heart is. 

We made our way back to the deceptively tiny storefront of the church, and into the underground rooms below the street. There were about ten of us crowded into the Sunday school room, representing about five different countries. I felt so encouraged simply to be there, surrounded by women seeking the Lord in a city known for its darkness. 

And then it just kept getting better! As I talked with some of the younger girls, I learned that three of them were from Romania! As we talked and shared in the beautiful Romanian language, it was as if sweet oil were being poured on the rusty door holding memories of my past time in Moldova. As it swung open, my heart was flooded with the joy of it all. It was as if Jesus, knowing the love I still carry deep for that nation, said, "Here; I haven't forgotten. I see your heart."

At dinner, I finally met one of the dear friends that hubby had made years earlier. "You know?" she said. "Those years, being involved with English Clubs...those were the most fun years I have ever had."

Book Review::Surprised by Motherhood

I am not a mother, but odds are I will be someday.

 

Someday my fridge will be covered with crayon masterpieces, my walls with jelly stains, and my floors with cheerios. Someday hubby and I will be entrusted with one or more miniature humans and I know deep in my gut that our lives will never be the same.  

 

Honestly, it’s terrifying.

 

Even though I love children.

Even though I get wistful over the soft curls of my friend's kids.

Even though I pray for the ones who will someday look like me and my husband.

Change has just never been my favorite, and the knowledge that two little pink lines will one day change absolutely everything--well, it scares the bejeezus out of me.

 

When that day comes, I will be so thankful for moms like Lisa-Jo and brave, hope-filled words like hers that come straight from the trenches. Which is why...I'm unashamedly doing my very first book review/promo for her!

 

Surprised by Motherhood reads like a heartfelt conversation on the couch with the author, a girl from South Africa who married a "cowboy-green eyed" man from the Northwest on the firm understanding that she would never bear his children. Ten years and three kids later, she bravely bares her heart and invites you into the messy, hilarious journey all laced with truth and wild hope.

 

 

She writes for you mommies. You, the ones who feel caught on the exhausting treadmill of life wondering, "will things ever slow down?" She believes you deserve a super-hero cape and a cheering squad and she's volunteering to wave pom-poms for you.

 

"I would throw away most of the parenting books that made me feel like I was somehow failing this most important test of womanhood—being a mother. I’d throw out the advice about what I was doing wrong or should be doing differently or should aspire to be doing. I’d just revel in the daily, sleep-deprived merry-go-round and eat a lot more chocolate cake.(p. x)"

 

She puts it this way:

This isn’t a “how-to” book, it’s simply my “you can” story.

 

She writes for you daughters too, especially for those who feel the absence of their mothers. When she was entering high school, her own mom was entering a hospital. Now, more than eighteen years after her mother's death, Lisa-Jo understands the pain of working through the unsaid, the unexplained. Whether the absence is literal or emotional, the wounds are real and she offers her own journey in all its confusion and healing.

 

She also writes for the not-yet mommies and someday mommies, the ones of us who need someone to say, "I was scared too. Yes, it's hard--but it's glorious and beautiful and worth it."

 

“Parenting is not for the faint of heart. And it’s especially not for those type A personalities accustomed to having all their ducks in a row, all their check boxes checked, and their sofa cushions, cereal boxes, and entire lives neatly arranged.” (p. 4)

 

  It doesn't hurt that she is type-A like me. Just an added layer of commonality to make me believe dying to self in the area of perfection might actually be possible.

Grab the first three chapters here for free!

Getting Crafty: Wreath Edition

I got crafty last weekend! Having my mom and sister here always wakes the sleeping artist in me.

I used this tutorial as my inspiration.

After thanksgiving, I may add some red berries or simply remove the camel-colored rosettes to help it transition to the Christmas season.

Ok, more realistically, I'll probably just leave it until July next year. (Those are flowers, right? They could pass for spring...right?)

Our final wedding photo shoot! (no, I'm serious)

Guess what we did this summer? We took our final wedding photo shoot! Ta da!

Umm...yeah. Our wedding happened two years ago. We know. A little ridiculous.

We were touched that our photographer was willing to honor our package deal after such a wide time lapse. Yes, we have been finishing degrees, traipsing to Colorado for a summer, flying to Italy for mission trips, and other random things that make life busy, but two years? After this experience, I wouldn't be surprised if she put a new clause in her photography contracts. If you lovebirds are too busy (lazy) to schedule all included photo-ops within a reasonable six-month span of time, you will forfeit the unscheduled services.
I wouldn't blame her one iota.

I believe the "day after" photo shoot idea originated from the desire to have a good collection of romantic photos without making guests wait at the reception for hours. Couples usually don the wedding clothes again for a complete wedding day simulation.

As you'll see, we opted for comfortable jeans and t-shirts. This was due to the unbearable, sickly stickiness of Texas July heat...and the fact that all essential undergarments for my wedding dress were borrowed. But it gave me a chance to sport this fun t-shirt given to me by my sis at a bridal shower way back before the wedding! It says "I *heart* my hubby".

I was surprised by how little she had to coach us on natural-looking cuddliness! I guess we've learned a few things in the past two years. :)

If you want to see more, head on over to this album on my facebook page. And if you like her style, check out her other photos on Southern Charm Photography.

The Point of Bridesmaids

Seven times.

I counted this weekend, and was amazed to realize that I have been a bridesmaid for seven beautiful friends. How can I have been so blessed? These girls considered me close and wanted me there on their special day. They wanted me as a witness to sacred vows, to their new beginnings.

This weekend I stood as a man and woman made a forever promise to love, honor and cherish each other. (Isn't she stunning?)

As I looked at the list of women, I felt a growing resolve to continue to stand with them. Because we don't need friends only for pretty faces in the wedding album, or to help us bustle the dress. After the cake is eaten, after we're no longer newlyweds, after student loans and stretch marks and burned crock pot meals and PTA and decades of living life, we will need them more than ever. I will never outgrow the need for women beside me, for sisters' prayers, for witnesses that will hold me to my vows when they no longer make sense.

In the ceremony, my friend spoke of waiting eleven years for this day. I had only been her friend through half of that waiting season, but I had seen the tenacity and love and endurance of her heart.

A hope fulfilled is so beautiful. But even more beautiful was the beauty produced in her heart because of hope long deferred.

Switching gears...I have to share the funniest moment of the ceremony. (Because remembering these stories is another reason bridesmaids exist.)

Get the scene in your head: the bride and groom are on stage, each taking a turn kneeling and washing the other's feet in a ceramic bowl, symbolizing their commitment to serve each other in the manner of Christ. Her feet are washed, shoes replaced; no problem. Then the groom sat, and the entire room began to realize that his well-heeled, well-socked feet might be more difficult than her simple slippers.

 Looking back, a lot of it could have been avoided if foot-washing practice had actually happened at the rehearsal. That's what a practice is for, right?

The socks came off inside out...and then utterly refused to go back on damp feet. We in the bridal party started to giggle. The band started the refrain again, to buy time. As both bride and groom tugged on the stubborn dress socks, the giggles rippled out and engulfed the entire chapel. The photographer was laughing so hard she could barely hold her camera steady, but if she was able to take pictures of the hilarity, I'm sure they will be awesome. 

How does my garden grow?

 The last time I showed you my garden, the box stood stark in the ground, softened only by a few tiny pepper and tomato plants.

Look at it now!

Because of the drought our area has had for the past two summers, I was considering installing an auto-drip system. But because this summer has been pretty wet so far, my new concern is drainage. Too much water equals root-rot. I'm hoping that the fact that it's a raised bed will help.

I'm excited about these baby tomatoes!

And these flowers will one day be cucumbers!

Not sure why the bell peppers are looking puny. Too much water perhaps?

There is one problem I have no clue how to fix. Little sugar ants are eating the stems of my zucchini plants at the root! Does anyone know how I can stop them?