Feels like a re-post.
(I found this old, straggler post saved as a draft from more than a year ago!)
These are from my time studying for 3 months in Cuernavaca, Morelos, MX.



Un amate amarillo.
These trees are named for their yellow skin,
their roots adapted this way to reach the water
way down at the bottom of the ravines that
roll through central Mexico.


Xochicalco,
city of flowers.
The first day of spring.
My host mama Esperanza told me to wear white.

Someone very special came to town and we gave her a very special gift.

Hannah and Jake played for years together in a band called Lautrec.

(That link is really worth clicking on. And this.)

The gift we bestowed upon Hannah has a long story behind it,

it's nothing terribly inappropriate but I'll leave it at that.

We had veggie burgers, vegan hash, shakes and 2 blissful hours of conversation.

Hannah is currently making it big in LA's film industry,

we couldn't be more proud of her, or more thankful to have seen her.

The beauty of knowing yourself
is the chance to be yourself
and the opportunity to see where God is working in you
and walking with you.

Not long ago I wrote that I wasn't crazy about personality tests and types.
I'm definitely coming around.


I'm learning more about myself ... such as how incredibly young I still am.

I know it because I'm still very quixotic and I refuse to sacrifice my ideals.
I've seen and admired many more mature people who can let go of control,
relax and enjoy things. I'm sure that's a pretty good place to be.
But I'm not ready to do that, yet.

I can see myself getting there.
But not today.
Today I am youthfully vigorous and determined.

Once upon a time a certain boy and girl got married. The girl was not worried at all about most of the wedding details, but the one most important thing to her was making a cheesecake for her betrothed. This boy loved cheese cake and he loved pears so the girl put the two together (it was a promise she'd made years ago, and her word is good.) You can see said wedding pear cheesecake for yourself on the bottom right of the table:

Fast-forward to almost one whole year later, this girl again set her mind to recreating the romantic dessert. This time, beautiful and ripe fruit from the very land on which the boy was raised was available for cooking.

And you can make your very own wedding pear cheesecake, too!

1. Make your own flour crust (a cookie crust is too sweet.)

2. Thaw two 8 oz. packages of cream cheese. 

3. Mix well with 1 cup white sugar, 1 tsp. vanilla and 1 tsp. ground cinnamon.

4. Pour an inch of cream cheese mix into the crust, top with a layer of sliced pears.

5. Cover the layer of pears with a thin coat of honey.

6. Make another layer with the rest of the cream cheese mix, topped with pears, covered in honey.

7. Bake in 350 degrees for about 30 minutes.

8. Let cool on the counter for a while, then refrigerate overnight for best shape.

God granted me some deep insight last week while I was babysitting.

We were at the park, about 4 hours into our day. I was getting tired of following and picking up after a 3-year-old, Q, who had no interest in playing with me.

My thoughts drifted to my work with InterVarsity, I'd be going there later that day.
This job has been a little different than I expected it to be.
But I've been terribly grateful these last 6 months to simply stick to the task to which I was called.

I started moving us toward home prematurely, because everything takes so much longer with a toddler. Walking with my charge, I looked up to the autumn sky and told the Lord that I was just tired of the task He's called me to, I was simply done with it.

Just then, Q stopped riding her scooter and asked me to carry it home.

"I'm sorry but I can't do that. You wanted to bring this here, this is your responsibility. Can we pull it home together?" I asked.

Well ... you can imagine how this plays out. Tears, screaming, a total meltdown.
To the likes I've never seen with this little one. She can be stubborn but she usually eventually behaves.

Just then, watching her sit in the dusty sand, next to the scooter I refused to carry myself out of principle, I saw myself.
I saw myself, crying before my God, pouting and saying that what He wanted me to do was not good. In this perspective, it seemed ridiculous.

If I can make decisions about teaching a 3-year-old a lesson, how vastly better can our Almighty God make decisions?
Who am I to second guess the work He is asking me to do?
But look at little Taylor, sitting in dirty, dusty sand, giving my Heavenly Daddy some attitude, and man I felt silly.
Because this guy knows what is good.

The thing is, I would have gladly helped Q bring her scooter back, because I knew she was exhausted. But her pure refusal upset me.

After a few moments to calm down, we ended up pulling the scooter together, sharing the work ... as much as you can with a toddler. And because she finally came around, it overjoyed me to help her.



(Doesn't that guy in the back left look like a mustache-version of Jake!?)

Call me sentimental (because I am) ...
but I've saved a few things from our wedding.
I put them out for display in early October and I'd like to share them today.

Three years ago today, Jake told me he had been thinking about it and he was "ready if you are."

I was ready!

So three years ago today we became an us.

A little more than  two years later, we became Mr. and Mrs.

My bouquet.
The tablecloth from our sweetheart table.
Dark brown napkins.
Ball jar centerpiece with acorns and bittersweet branches.
All from the wedding.

Why I believe it is perfectly fine for Christians to have tattoos.

Because I'm taking my own advice, and I'd love to hear what you think about these things, too.

I'd like to make this a regular topic, whenever the spirit moves me.

"Do not cut your bodies for the dead or put tattoo marks on yourselves. I am the LORD."
Leviticus 19:28

Seems pretty straight forward, no?
Except when it isn't.

I'm going to make this one brief.

1. That last statement "I am the LORD" occurs very often in this book of the Bible. The idea here is that Yahweh is giving his people guidelines for living that will keep them living righteously, and not like their pagan neighbors.

2. The pagan neighbors in this case regularly let their own blood, making cuts and markings on themselves, to express their agony and garner the attention of a god. (Yahweh does not want His people to do this, there is no need.) The closest word we have in our language to describe such a thing is "tattoo." Clearly, the word means something very different today than how it's being applied in this passage.

3. This is the one and only time the word "tattoo" appears in the Bible.


And thus, I believe this scripture is admonishing us to not harm ourselves or cry for an idol's attention ... not to keep our bodies tattoo-free.


PS: It's also helpful when studying the Bible, to read a variety of translations, in order to get a broader picture of what the original text might have meant. Examples here.

Fellow Chicagoans, and anyone who might be visiting:

Do yourself the favor and dine at the Waterfront Cafe, 6219 N. Sheridan Road.

Ashley first introduced me to this little treasure.

We both live near here, so it's terribly convenient.

We recently brought our boughs along with us for a date,

and the pictures are a little blurry, but just look at that ambience:

I urge you, brothers and sisters, to know why.

Sweet Luisa came over the other night.
Jake has band practice once a week and I'm desperate for friends to keep me company on those late nights.
We made quesadillas, watched a movie and talked a lot. (You gotta love a girl who has something so pressing to say about the last scene that she pauses the movie.)
We got to talking about tattoos ... naturally. And Luisa wants one.

Luisa's Mother says: I don't get it. The Bible says tattoos are wrong.
Luisa: The Bible also says to sacrifice goats. Do you sacrifice goats?
Luisa's Mother: Well ... no.
Luisa: Okay, you give me a call when you start sacrificing goats and I'll get my tattoo removed!

I might also add this funny conversation my friend Lauren told me that she had ...

Lauren's Mother: The Bible says our bodies are temples and we are to take care of them!
Lauren: You decorate the temple, don't you? So I'm decorating my body.

Lauren does have a tattoo.


* First of all, God bless our mothers! God bless our fathers, our sisters, our brothers, anyone who keeps us accountable to the Word of God. People need accountability.

* But second, and this is the point of the darn whole post right here,
It is incredibly important that you know why you believe what you believe. And why it affects your choices. While it's true many parts of the Bible are culturally bound and no longer applicable to our lives--it is a dangerous thing to joke about it's Law. It is a dangerous thing to undermine its divinity and its credibility.


I am not singling out Lauren and Luisa. I used their stories because they are hilarious, and they both love me so I know they will forgive me for sharing them. (Plus, everyone needs a little religious humor now and then.)

We all make these jokes, I am not without fault.
But I have a question ... do you know why is it that we disregard Biblical teaching about ceremonial cleansing and we follow its teaching about purity and honesty?

Absolutely anyone who hopes to lead a Biblical life participates in scriptural interpretation, whether they know it or not. So for your sake, for the community's sake, take your interpretation seriously. Please. Consider why some rules no longer apply and why some do. I began this journey last year and I'll continue it my whole life. It's fascinating knowledge and it will season your faith and your witness.

If you're interested in more about interpreting the Bible, I highly highly highly recommend the book How to Read the Bible for All Its Worth.

PS: I don't like telling people what to do. But I really believe in this. And I am kind of controlling and bossy with the ones I love. I'm doing this because I love you.

A little Monday humility.

How was your weekend?
Mine was fabulous, let me tell you.

After a whirlwind of weeks of planning, two Chicago InterVarsity chapters gathered together for our fall retreat.
Everything we talked about and prayed about was focused on the idea that these students' lives are transformed by Jesus and that as a community they are sent to transform their campus.

We sang, we ate lots of carbs, we slept on very hard floors under emergency lights that would not turn off (and this little lady needs to sleep in complete darkness).
It was a holy, holy, holy weekend.

Truly, I'll joke about sleeping under a fluorescent light, using my fleece sleeve as a mask because I'm too claustrophobic to pull the blankets over my head ... but I would do it again and again.
The church where we held our retreat was incredibly hospitable.
And I didn't move to sleep on a couch in the dark hall out of solidarity with my students ... and also because it seemed a little scary to sleep alone in a huge room!

Well let's get to that part about humility, shall we?
I'd like to show you these hilarious screen shots of me giving a talk.

I have to admit, I was a little surprised (pleasantly) to see so much movement, because my one of my coworkers nicely told me I can be a little too stoic and I honestly know I usually look like this:

Although I cringed like crazy, I learned a lot by watching a recording of my self.

Happy Monday!

We came home with pounds and pounds of apples and pears. 

I will be making this pie over and over again.

Apples!
If autumn comes to pass some year and I don't make it to an orchard, I'll feel pretty awful. I know everybody says it, but fall is and always has been my favorite season.

Back home in Michigan two weeks ago ...
We went to Crane's. It was stellar to drink hot cider while walking among the brother and sister apples of those who made my drink. Thank you, dear apples, for giving yourself to deliciousness.

Jake, my dad and I caught a ride on a little golf cart. I love the picture of us.

And since there's so much love history to celebrate in autumn, I couldn't help but take a ring photo.

Then in Iowa this past weekend ...
We picked, washed, sliced and smooshed enough apples to make 10 gallons of cider!

We brought some home but since the drive was 7 hours, I'm afraid our cider is now something akin to fermented, "hard" cider. It's still pretty delicious. And it's amazing how tasty fresh cider is with nothing but apples in it.

Most of these pictures were taken by our friend Glenna, whose boyfriend John plays in a band with Jake. When we knew we had a long drive, we immediately invited John and Glenna to keep us company and enjoy the country.

I love pears even more than apples. And squash maybe even more than pears (with olive oil and sea salt!) What is your favorite fall food?

During a prayer the other night, a vivid image came to me from the vantage point of a mountain cabin’s porch. 

Before me were tall shoots of evergreens, dense as a wall.

Up my spine and into my heart went shivers of home and peace, familiar with this kind of scene.

I wasn’t sure how this was supposed to affect my prayer, so I just thanked God that our souls find rest in Him. God is Home because before I ever chose Him, He extended to me the greatest hospitality known to mankind.

This hospitality thing has been tugging on my heart since August.

Now recently, Jake and I began meeting regularly with good friends who are also newly married. We parted with the exhortation to seek God’s will for us as a unit. How may we, as a married unit, serve Christ and people? How might God already be using us?

The first thing that came to my mind was hospitality.

I really love to have people over, to welcome them with food and a couch.

And if you ever knew Jake …
well, you’d know how he has a way of listening to people and making anyone feel at home anywhere.

So I just have the slightest idea that maybe, possibly in the big picture, God’s calling for us it to offer hospitality.

To offer a safe place.

But I want to pray about it more and not jump to my own conclusions.

So when my coworkers and I all took a retreat on Monday, I brought this to God right away.

Again, an image of mountains and trees before my eyes.

But this time I realized how funny it is that we will probably never move to the mountains. Mountains have been a theme in my prayer life for years, but they are just too far away from family and we simply haven’t been called there.

So how funny is it that while I may never settle in the landscape where I have a physical sense of home, I do so enjoy helping others feel at home.

I write about home a lot.

Is it because I moved across the country at 9?

Or moved away for good at 18?

Who knows.

Speaking of home. We got to spend time with BOTH our sets of parents in Michigan (where my family is from) last weekend!

Grand Rapids hosts a huge art contest and commissions the public to vote for a winner. Each submission was unique and breathtaking.

We are surrounded by family! I'm sorry I'm in so many pictures, but I hope you see how many loving people surround me and support me every day of my life.

On my way home from the library this morning, I passed Many People’s Church and waved at my newly-ordained friend who was inside talking to the founding pastor, John.

Then I passed The Common Cup, where John’s wife Ruth and my friends Amanda and Linnea were pulling shots of espresso and steaming milk.

I went on to the Morse grocery store where they invite me to speak Spanish.

Last, I dropped something off at the New to You thrift store and the manager recognized me, we blessed each other’s days, said “see you soon,” and meant it.

All of this within two blocks of where we live.

I feel so at home.

“Wow, you live far away.”

“Isn’t that neighborhood a little sketch?”

These are the common comments Jake and I get from our friends when we invite them over or tell them where we live. And while I understand why a 40-minute el ride to downtown, or an incredibly diverse neighborhood might be unattractive to some, we have become deeply loyal to Rogers Park in our one year here.

(Besides, if everyone saw the beauty in our neighborhood, our rent wouldn’t be so low!)

Hardwood floors, heat included, stellar landlords, trees upon trees, blocks away from the most beautiful beach in the city … I’d take it any day.

Imagine a little corner in the city with murals next to the train station, a local pharmacy and an outdoor art gallery. A brick street bouncing with the music of harmonica and bass from behind the neon glow of a bar. A place where people respond to poster ads and (usually) smile at each other while walking under tunnels of trees.

I feel very at home here, indeed.

But more on that tomorrow.

{photo from here.}