The great thing about Anglican churches (or following the liturgical calendar) is that we celebrate SIX weeks of Easter. SIX weeks to ponder the mystery of Christ's work. All stops are out with this post, please enjoy my photo essay of how we began the celebration on Easter Sunday:

First things first ... Indian buffet for brunch.



Demolished. A meal fully enjoyed. I ate too much fennel at the cash register.

Then, afternoon church and potluck.










Easter was full of arrival, fun, love, and hospitality.
I will always remember singing at the top of my lungs with Nate after offering prayer ministry.
We both just shook and smiled and knew God was with us.

I've taken on pie as a hobby.



Dreaming it, making it, baking it, sharing it, eating it.
It's a beautiful thing.
There's really no telling when I'm going to bake.
Sometimes I just find myself on a Sunday night whipping my first ever batch of meringue.
And sometimes I find anise extract at the store and invent a pie in my mind
(then Google the recipe for it which I know probably exists), and begin.
These two have made their way into my heart, time and life lately:
Banana Meringue Pie & Pear Anise Pie.
Both with a new crust recipe which was a gem to work with.







I'm going to try and make a deep correlation here, between baking and my "greater things" mantra, okay? Follow me.
They are quite parallel things, making a pie and making a community.
They take imagination, work, patience and are practically useless unless utterly enjoyed.
I'm always the baker who eats a piece fresh fresh fresh out of the oven.
Always burning my tongue.
Never learning my lesson.
It's exciting to eat hot, but pie usually doesn't hold together well until cooled.
Maybe the same goes for community, especially new and diverse community?
It's an exciting thing to discover, but if we maul it hastily, it crumbles.
We risk exoticism and shallow consumption.
Both are necessary, I think, excitement and stability.
But overall, what's needed is respect. And sharing utter enjoyment with others.

Thanks for going there with me.
Have I got you dreaming about pie?

"I will know my Saviour when I come to Him
by the mark where the nails have been ... "



Jesus is the God who knows pain.
Born poor via an illegitimate birth, and faced injustice in His trial.
And He conquered it all.
Only a God who knows the oppression of earth could be a fair judge.

The truth about personality tests. (Or, how they make me feel.)

Myers & Briggs tell me I'm an "ISTJ."

The Enneagram says I'm a "Type One."

And sometimes, all I hear them call me is "Peaceful, hardworking, machine." Like a little bot people love for its dependability.

While some people enjoy using their personality types to explain their silly behavior and forgetfulness, I find myself wanting to apologize for mine. Sorry that I like rules and order?

I remember one day as a little girl, sitting in the back right seat of the car with my mom and sisters. It was our white jeep, old as I am. My mom (love her) was explaining to my middle sister that we have all moods which swing to change like a pendulum. She told the middle one that her pendulum swings back and forth, high and high, vigorously. It was a gentle way of addressing tantrums. She went on to say my pendulum swings very subtly. I know my mom loves this about me, and she meant it was a good thing, but it made me sad. I can still see her finger ticking back and forth to illustrate. Even as a child I felt defensive about my personality.

This is just an observation for lately.
And maybe a promise to work on it.

The good thing is that the people close to me are very good at telling me they love me. And I believe them. And truly, I like being me. There's not much trouble here to report on. Just something worthy of investigating and prayer.

Family Sleepover // Special Guests in Town



La casa Jake & Taylor became la casa to the traveling Pye family this weekend!
We hosted Owen, Jillian and Cash over for a family sleepover, and it rocked. Four adults and a baby crashing in a studio, waking up early, strong coffee and rounds of banana pancakes with a side of chitter chatter. I felt our tiny apartment brimming with the warmth of new friends and shared passions. I'm so thankful we had the chance to connect, and that Owen got to play here in Chicago. (And clearly Cash was the highlight of the visit.)




The day I first found Jillian's blog, I noticed they were touring all around but didn't have a show planned in Chicago. So I emailed her. And things were rolling by that evening. Jake booked some of our musically gifted friends to play with Owen and held the show at a church/venue in our neighborhood. I was really touched to see all of our friends who came out, and to see neighbors trickle in whom we didn't know.

It's incredible to meet a couple the same age as us, believing hard and working hard.
This is such a precious time in life and the Pyes are an inspiration.
It was so sweet to talk honestly with Jillian (late into the night) about everything;
so sweet to recognize this growing stage in our lives, old and youthful at once.
I can't wait to see what their family experiences in this amazing season of music.




Happy trails, Pye family!
Love, us