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A Noun [is a person, place, or thing]

Sometimes, something will come along that you didn't see coming --- something unexpected, yet wonderful in a way that makes it clear that it's definitely a God Thing.

It will be amazing, but also challenging --- sanctifying and reshaping your life in ways that you could never have imagined.

You will walk into the open arms of a new community and find wonderful new friends --- and maybe discover that some you thought were friends were really just acquaintances, as they quietly fade out of your life.

There will be adventures --- stay up late even though you still have to get up early the next morning, doing things you've never done before, finding a new joy in tasks previously considered mundane - adventures.

Your mind will be blown to bits --- and when you get it put back together again, you'll find that some pieces were lost and new ones were added, and the way you think and act and react and view the world and the people around you has completely changed.

What you can and can't, will and won't will be completely redefined --- and you will discover the sweetness of heartfelt prayer as supernatural strength fills you through illness, hunger, sleeplessness, inexperience, and a general sense of being completely overwhelmed.

Some of the dreams that you clutched with desperate, sweaty hands will be released to the wind --- and replaced with glorious new ones, cupped in Hands much bigger than your own.

You will laugh as you have never laughed, and cry as you have never cried before --- but you will have support in both, and will find new reasons to thank God every day.

And sometimes, those things will happen twice, in two extraordinarily similar, yet different, ways. Today, three years ago, I arrived in Brooklyn, New York for the summer. But more importantly, on this very day one year ago, Brooklyn Elisabeth officially arrived into our lives and permanently etched herself onto our hearts.


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31 Days of Unraveling Designs

It's that time of year again... the 31 Days writing challenge starts today! Bloggers from all over will be writing every day of the month of October on the topic of their choosing. This will be my fourth year participating - the first year I did 7 for 31, and spent a month going through Jen Hatmaker's book 7. The second year I did 31 Days of Sustainable Dwelling, and wrote about local and fair trade living. Last year I was busy but still wanted to participate, so I went the easy route with 31 Days of Everyday Beautiful.

This year I'm diving into my greatest passion: knitting! I'll spend this month looking at past designs and talking about the inspiration behind them, so there will be plenty of regular life mixed in with the stitching - and there may be discount codes for the patterns that I write about. You'll just have to read and see!

Pattern index:

Pageturner Mitts
Hogwarts House Tie
Urban Artemis
Graffiti for Humanity
Love Out Loud
Strange Jacket


In order to change your knitting, you must first change yourself. I've lost track of how many times I've said that, or how many people I've said it to. Frustrated new knitters wondering why their work is loose or tight or uneven or really anything less than perfect. But something I love about knitting is that it's a record of your inner dialogue. That swatch knit at the yarn store table with a cozy cup of coffee and a helpful (and more experienced) knitter nearby is going to be a lot more relaxed than the sweater begun a week later while sitting next to a hospital bed - just like the knitter.

Unfortunately, this also applies to my own knitting. For years, I was apparently unaffected by the shifts and turmoils in my own life, so I assumed that I was exempt from the rule - when the reality was, in fact, that I wasn't really experiencing any of those on anything deeper than a surface level because everything was deadened by depression. When I finally started to really…


A few years ago, I was introduced to the concept of replacing the traditional list of resolutions with a single word. It appealed to me - I am not a big list person, but I love language and words and meanings and etymology and metaphor and... ahem. Ennyhoo. I liked the idea.
I've never chosen the word. It's always presented itself to me - and last year was no different. Pacific was very insistent, even though I tried to argue with it. Pacific? What does that even mean? What am I supposed to do with that?
But I accepted it, and I'm glad I did. I learned about depth and calm, about storm and nurture, about faith and adventure - and about the unstoppable ocean of God's grace, that overwhelms to fill and cleanse and bring blessings unasked.
So I'm bidding pacific a very fond farewell, and welcoming spark and whatever lessons it would like to bring. I invited it in with a copper wire punctuated with tiny lights and wrapped around my mood board, and I've got an empt…