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!?)