a blast form the recent past.....

once upon these days....

this. house.

these. people.

the.way.it.smells. here.

fills.my.heart.

like.it's.overflowing.

and spilling love everywhere.

My body is a pen writing a chapter in a larger story.

A short story in a collection of others

Though, parts are hard to get through, others are sweet and funny

and full of the best things.

good fruit

i'm very proud of who we're becoming.

though my words will seem few,

 my words will be bold

full to the tippy top with love and passion

the characters real, mosaics of then and now,

 all racing towards something

a light, a finish line, the sun,

Sometimes we run together

and me and you all become an us 

and the us becomes a family 

in the most extraorindarily ordinary way

and we exist without effot until we don't

when the sun gets closer

we'll be able to look back, saying,

Once upon these days we did something

radical.

we let each other co-write our stories.



....and they lived happily ever after. 

A love letter to Minnesota

Here's what you need to know, I hit the "I just want to get out of this place" phase later in life. For me, it was after college. 

So, at 23, I packed up my stuff,  and my college roommate and I moved into a charming little house, in charming little Hastings in the summer of 2009. I knew exactly 2 people, and I didn't really have a plan except for not living at home anymore. 

Turns out, though, it's probably not the best way to plan your adult future. Also, I should point out that we were "house sitting" for people who were deployed in Iraq and were living there for a stupid cheap amount, not the best way to budget how adults really lived. 

But, it was lovely. We had a beautiful back yard (where we caught a woodchuck..or something)  with a fire pit, we had a back porch we used to sit in and talk about God and watch the rain. We'd drink coffee and teach ourselves how to play piano on a gorgeous grand piano that sat in the front window. 

It's here where i first met Sam and Julia, not know then how much they would be a part of my life. It's everything you'd ever want for your post college apartment, living with your best friend, and living the dream. 

Less than a year later, we'd pack our things again and move to St. Paul. In a perfect old apartment with crooked hardwood floors, and a great view a downtown, and the chime of the Cathedral bells. 

We rented a truck and drove 700 miles in one day. I moved my bed out of parents house. I stared at my empty childhood bedroom and hug my entirely family goodbye....not really realizing the importance of that...the fact that they were all there.  It should not a be a surprise, i'm horrible at goodbyes. We all laughed about how i should not be the one to drive the moving truck...because...well...i was kind of terrible driving in my younger days.....We got 40 miles out Green Bay when I lost my shit. All the tears...I'm a repressed human...i know, i should be in therapy. I've heard it a million times. But... my roommate grabbed my hand, promised that everything was going to be great and if it wasn't....we could always go home....

and what's the exact when i let my heart be in two places. We moved in. So many beautiful people who did not know me very well...but would soon become some of the people closest to my heart....helped us move boxes, and boxes, and boxes of  our things. It took four of us and my neck nearly broken to get a king sized mattress up those tiny stairs and into our tiny-ish apartment. 

Decorated in hand me downs sprinkled with new things from Target and Ikea...we were on our way. 

And what a way it was. I fell in love with St. Paul.  A city whose heart beat, is in sync with mine. A city who wraps me up in her quaint and quiet charm and makes me fall in love with life again and again. 

Our tiny apartment was full of mischief and love and most of the time at there was at least one other person there that didn't actually live there. And we loved it. Outside our back window was a parking lot where Hans parked cars for events at excel. He was the first person we met, we offered him the rest of our dominos pizza that we walked all the way downtown to get. (side note: we had no idea what we were doing) 

Pizza Luce delivered to us. Two kids who need to feel loved and a safe place to land, landed on our couches. We held meetings, small groups, and birthday parties there. Boys broke our hearts, we were the best of friends and the worst of enemies and nothing could prepare us for the transition that lay ahead. The roads we had to pave on our own.

Then, 3 years later, I packed up my stuff again. It's hard to stay good-bye to something that you loved so much. It's even harder to do with with the pieces of our heart in your hands.  But the thing that Minnesota does is give me people who love me far beyond what i deserve.  So, while my heart and life were in pieces, there were people helping me put the pieces back together. 

And about year later, I moved out of St. Paul and into the grove. It's been a whirlwind. I don't understand love or grace or why people who offer it so freely to me, Especially since this last year and half has been the hardest....and I've been the worst version of myself...and even i don't love it. 

I'll never understand. I don't have words for what i feel about this place, and this time and how much it means to me. Brad used to say " you're a good thing" but one time he said " You're a good thing, go where you feel the most love" and that's right here. It's the scariest, most heart exposing love i have ever known this side of the Mississippi, and i don't understand why at all. I just know that i get little glimpses of who Jesus is, and what he wants this world to look like, here. 

I've needed glimpses of Jesus lately. He feels far away and like we are speaking totally different languages. So, today, when I realized that it had been 5 years....i saw the years like a flipbook, a playlist of memories, and i was completely overwhelmed. 

My roots are firmly planted in the Wisconsin ground, But, the branches, Minnesota, belong to you. They are stretching out and growing leaves, i don't know what direction their go, but i'm so thankful for them. If you cut the rings open, they tell a special kind of love story. 

The kind of love story you can only tell when people have loved you as much like Jesus as we can possibly fathom this side of heaven. 

This has been a rambly mess, but tonight as i sat with two of my small girls, who just happen to be best friends. I was, again, over come with thankfulness. For being able to understand what it's like to have a best friend who loves you in a way no one else does. 

Minnesota the most important thing you've given me is my people, and a deep appreciation for community and standing in the gap for the people you love. 

How very special to be "worth it" for an incredible group of humans. 

I literally have to wake up in 5 hours, and i'm the dummy still trying to make sense of what my heart is telling my head to say. 

Thank you for loving me. I don't have words. No, i suppose they'll come much later, they almost always do. 

I really like reading about celeb best friends, but they are by far, my favorite duo.

Tell me how to live on the edge of my seat, and teach me how to stand on my own two feet....

Once upon a time, these women were all strangers. Once upon a time, they were in high school while I was still playing hopscotch and kickball. Once upon a time they could have been my babysitters. They're moms, wives, best friends, sisters. And I'm lucky enough to call them my people. 

They're sassy, they're funny, they're strong. They've paved the way for me. They taught me how to cook, how to love Jesus, how to make sure life is full of joy, how to be strong in the midst of intense personal crisis....how to forgive the people who have hurt you....i get weepy thinking about how much i love them. 

And they let me play grown ups with them. These women who have lives that have ebbed and flowed and are full of more moxie and overcoming than I could ever hope to have. 

I have no idea how we all came to be. Africa, maybe. A mission trip i didn't even go on where God broke my heart for a country I've never been to and for a group of women who i feel so fortunate to call pals. 

 It's weird to feel so grateful to know people. Like so happy that how ever I've haphazardly run my life, has lead me to this table.  Where dirty dishes and empty wine bottles lead to full hearts and renewed faith in humanity. 

So today, i'm thankful for me people. The one's who let me into their life and let me share their friends. The ones who just come from good stock, and love funny and good wine as much as I do. 

Here's to the table. For the way it has changed us, for the roots that have been planted, and for being one more place that feels like home and its where i most want time to stand still. 

I'm trying to write more. Like once every couple of days. So far...it's been kind of a struggle.

But right now i think what my heart needs most is to laugh. A lot and a loudly. 

To remember the moments that gave me laugh lines instead of a furrowed brow 

and to drink so good drinks and play cribbage or some other game. 

and reminisce and to hear stories my friends tell stories. I like hearing about what people remember. The stories they choose to tell to people who weren't there. How the choose to capture the feeling they felt for all of us hearing it for the first time.

Being a part of someone's first time (no, not sexually but then again....that too) is sacred ground as is being present for someone to share a memory that is vivid and memorable enough to be recounted.

In that they're offering a piece of themselves. An open hand, as it were, for you to grab on. Making it a memory that you'll share a laugh or tears over.

So...i guess i just want to grab hands, make some memz, and drink a good drink. but not enough drinks that it makes me want to smoke a clove. or hooka.

but then again....maybe.

Do you remember?

there are not words for the amount of joy this photo brings me. I would like to groundhog this day forever. and ever. amen.

I had a big plan on writing about remembering. Especially since today i drove past the first house i lived in here

I looked exactly the same. But being there, outside of it, felt so different. Like it was a life time ago and now we were prefect strangers.

I was going to write about the time that i was sitting on my bed and lisa was standing in my doorway and we were both crying but i don't remember why, but i remember the feeling of that moment.

or how this year was hard and it looked and felt different than last year because picking up broken pieces and putting back together looks different but i'm not sure why.

Or how i emote unhappiness, though  not intentionally, to everyone and how when that happens, it actually has an effect on other people and it makes them feel bad. and then that makes me feel bad.

Or how, i've recently learned that you should never bake from a box. ever. never ever.

or that i put massive amounts of pressure on myself to be different. instead of asking the quesiton...what can i do better. how can i make it better....but i don't want to have those conversations because i don't like crying and i don't like being frustrated and i want someone to just tell me that they love me....

i just shoot in the dark...and hope for the best...and look for signs that Jesus is even remotely interested in my life.

Instead, tonight, i'll look at this picture and remember how it felt and smelled and how i will hold this day so close to my heart for such a long time.

And i'll go to bed with the intention of doing better and remember that i love the people in my life with moxie and my whole stupid heart.

and when i let me heart lead me, i'll always be okay.

I didn't know...

I never expect that walking into a situation will change my life. I only hope that at the end, my once upon a time will be worth telling.

I can't remember the exact place or time when we awkwardly (i'm sure, because...well,...i'm me, and well, you're an introvert) said our first hello. I don't remember the circumstances or the people. I only remember that once there was no you....and now there is.  I can't even remember when or why our paths crossed. 

Turns out, life happens in the most ordinary moments. However we got to here was delicately woven together by a God who knows what's up. A God who knows how to love in ways we didn't know we needed. I mean it's funny to think that there was a time when I didn't have a million things to tell you. That at one point, I was just a friend of a friend.

I'm sure it's weird to hold something so commonplace so close to your heart, but you, and this house are sacred places. Soft places to land....though sometimes....the runway is absolutely made of sandpaper. But iron sharpens iron and thankfully, you keep me in check.

You are a gem. Thank you for loving me the way you do. It makes me crazy. It makes me cry happy tears and mad tears. It makes me feel loved and grateful and like Jesus has my back.

Thank you for loving the best music and knowing the words to every song ever. Thank you for being the strongest woman i know and doing it with such a gentle vulnerably. Thank you for sharing every aspect of your life. The funny ones, the sweet ones but especially the messy ones. For letting me be bossy at you sometimes and for sitting through 4 season of Gilmore girls. For loving a rowdy group of teen agers with me.

Thank you for watching the same movie with me 100 times. Telling me which writer, bloggers, and pastors to follow. Thank you for loving 90's on 9, and painting your nails, and being one of the funniest people i know. And for being sassier than i could ever hope to be. For showing me what it looks like to be a good mother and wife and human. (even if it's a what not to do situation)

Thank you for letting me try to catch up to you, though my attempts are in vain. 10 years is suddenly not a large gap to close.  I don't think you'll ever know how much i love that we are basically different sides to the same coin. Similar, almost disgustingly so, but different enough to keep things interesting.

Thank you for staying up late and going through boxes and boxes of memories. It's one of my favorite, sweetest memories. Sometimes when you think you have people all figured out they go ahead and throw you a curve ball.

You are beautifully complicated. Your story is one of my favorites. You ooze goodness and I cannot tell you how proud it makes me to know that i get to know you. i get to spend time with you. Because you have a strange way of making everything feel okay. I have seen Jesus in you in more ways than i can count. From your humility, to the way you love people, to the way you forgive....it's something i aspire to be like. you make me want to be more like Jesus.

 I believe that you're changing the world in big ways. That your reflect the kingdom....even when you're not trying.

I know that life goes on and one day we might be the people that see each other once every few months. (though, i doubt it because i like to borrow your stuff) I know that we could absolutely survive without each other....and maybe that's a mark of a great friendship....but....i don't want to.

i don't like the idea of a world that doesn't include your sass on the other side of a text. Your bambi eyes when i'm sad and your weepy prayer voice.

It all feels like home. I hate the trenches. I get tired of digging sometimes, and i dont like being dirty. But it's easier to do when you're digging along side me. We are an amazing team. (minus the occasional fight that makes one or both of us cry)

You are absolutely a part of me....not like....you're in my bones...because...ugh. gross...but like....we are kindred. Our Jesus lovin souls are special....cute little puzzle pieces that are a part of telling a much larger story about Jesus, and who he is....and what can happen if you let walls down, and let people love you.

You, ya fool, are such a special thing. Your compassion, and heart, are a rarity (not the my little pony) and they are something to be celebrated. You are something to be celebrated.

Thank you for being my soul sister. and for making life sweeter, infusing more joy and for giving me a place at your table.

I didn't know when we met on a random day in a non memorable location that you would change me.  But you did. And here we are.

One day i'll have babies. and they'll love you like i do. and they'll never know what its like to not have a Lisa. and that is beautiful.