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Across the Universe {Everyday Beautiful}

I love the Beatles. There is a Beatles song for every possible occasion (maybe even more than one) and they're so darn catchy. Tobin (who is not quite two) loves to do the "yeah"s for me when I sing She Loves You, and I once apologized to my roommate for not taking out the trash in a manner she found timely (we'd had a row about it that morning) after We Can Work It Out came on on the radio.

So I started out to write a post about #fmfpartysnailmail - about how amazing it is that we can record our thoughts on a piece of pretty paper, fold it up, put a stamp on it, and send it by truck and plane to someone somewhere else in the world, and then they can open it up and see what we were thinking - about how wonderfully encouraging it is to find a box or envelope in your postbox, whether you were expecting it or not - about the beauty of friendship between people who have never met in person (y'all, if I ever manage to move to Washington, which I would love, I will already have like five friends there because of this).

But then (probably because of the Star Trek postage stamps) Across the Universe wormed its way into my head, and I started thinking about another letter - one that stretched across time and space, one that took human form, one that not only empathizes with my struggles but can also help me with them, one that I so often fail to appreciate - and the beauty of that Divine loveletter took over, instead.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God... 
And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth... 
And from His fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.
John 1:1, 14, 16

This post is day 27 in my 31 Days series, 31 Days of Everyday Beautiful - for an introduction and more posts, head here.


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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…