Category: Family

God is glorified in our love for one another

She wandered in to the kitchen, shrugged her shoulders and said, “What can I do?”

Twenty years of provision fell heavy on my heart and I brimmed with thanksgiving. My grandma, who had hosted countless Easter gatherings at her home and provided the homemade bread and deviled eggs for too many Easter gatherings at my parents’ to count. Her knobby fingers have kneaded more dough and cleared more dining room tables than mine can dream about.

And she wandered into my little kitchen after our ragamuffin Easter dinner to offer her help. But, not just to wash the dishes and de-bone the chicken… because as we scrubbed the carmelized onions out of the bottom of the stew pot, she asked how she could pray for me. We chatted about how to make the best beef stew from roast leftovers and about how to make creative meals out of de-boned lemon sage chicken. And she said she was praying about my job constantly. She put her hand on my arm and looked at me with a steady gaze and assured me she was praying.

This was the first Easter my sister and I hosted at our humble rental home in our little Des Moines neighborhood. We invited our neighbors, our grandparents, and a few friends. We conquered Lemon Sage Chicken and Chuck Roast Dinner with (surprisingly) very few catastrophes or disastrous substitutions. The sunshine started early and was still proclaiming resurrection joy when we arrived at our house after church.

I’ll admit, no amount of Febreze in any scent can compare to a house with a roast in the oven. The smell was coming out the windows when I invited my grandparents inside, where they spread out the deviled eggs and fresh baked french loaf. Just before our celebration began, our neighbor Louie came over to bring a jello salad and his regrets that he wouldn’t be able to make it with his wife. We made plans to have them over for dinner soon (and vice versa) and I introduced Louie to my Grandpa.

Our guests around the table ranged in age from 15 to 80, but the laughter was all the same level after my Grandpa said grace. We enjoyed elderberry jelly and lemon-buttery potatoes and conversation and laughter. We enjoyed it all and we enjoyed each other and our laughter lingered long after enjoying my Gram’s puff pastry dessert with coffee.

But, it was that moment when my Grandma wandered into the kitchen to offer her help (and more than just her help), that I breathed a sigh of gratitude for the way we are designed for relationship.

Our front doors are meant to swing open to family and friends and strangers – to break bread with one another, delight in the gathering and the eating and the laughing and the conversing. We are made to live together in relationship and our hearts are glad when we live as we were made to live.

My heart was full today as we broke bread together, as we laughed together, as we prayed together, as we washed dishes together, and as my Grandma looked me in the eyes and told me she prays for me constantly.

Because I know she does.

God has woven our hearts together intentionally to reveal His glory. He is glorified as we benefit by loving one another, sharing with one another, bearing each others’ burdens, and wandering into the kitchen to say, “How can I help?”

let LOVE fly like cRaZy
Posted on by Caroline 2

long obedience in the same direction

Here’s an excerpt from my post over at Of Dust and Kings today (go check out the full post if you want the rest):

Christ, who holds all things together, offers Himself to be savored and then promises to make us look like Him.

My parents didn’t know just how narrow the gate and hard the way would be as foster parents, but they didn’t sign up for a short spasm of passion that they could forget after a while. My parents signed up for the long and tedious work, committing to trust God’s grace to light the way for their next step on the hard way. They aren’t doing it perfectly, but they are daily looking more and more like Christ.

If you want to hear Gary Haugen’s talk from The Justice Conference that inspired this soapbox of sorts, check it out below. The last few minutes are worth watching, so if you only have a bit of time start from 41:30. You won’t regret it.

I wrote previously about my parents’ experience here: “mid-life: exchanging crisis for calling” and here “the opposite of mid-life crisis”.

Posted on by Caroline 0

unshackled and unashamed

We crowded the platform overlooking the stage – the three of us in a kind of huddle, swaying and bouncing with giggles.

We danced with our hands in the air, singing the words we knew and mumbling through the ones we didn’t. More than 17,000 people packed the arena and it felt like just the three of us – three blonde sisters savoring the moments and filling the air with laughter. I wasn’t concerned about impressions because I was singing with two beautiful girls who were lost in the music.

I didn’t used to be like this. Junior and high school were about keeping up appearances, no matter how many times I try to say they weren’t. 

Do I look spiritual enough? Do I look too spiritual? Do I look smart enough? Do I seem too smart and not humble?  I did a lot of situational assessment to figure out how to make the best impressions. I know, definitely first world problems.

I thought on those things as I was standing there at the concert, not caring about anything that anyone was thinking. Maybe it was because those things – those silly cultural fears about what others think – seemed so petty when I thought about what my sisters thought of me. I wanted them to see that I was unshackled and unashamed.

Christ doesn’t set free halfway – when he freed me from my sin it was complete. That kind of power pulls people into statements like Paul’s in his letter to the Romans, “I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God unto salvation for everyone who believes…” That’s not a statement that’s worried about impressions.

The law of the spirit of life has set me free from the law of sin and death. Free.

There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death. For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do. By sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, he condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.

For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit. For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace. For the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God’s law; indeed, it cannot. Those who are in the flesh cannot please God.

You, however, are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if in fact the Spirit of God dwells in you. Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him. But if Christ is in you, although the body is dead because of sin, the Spirit is life because of righteousness. If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit who dwells in you.
(Romans 8:1-11 ESV)

The Spirit of God dwells in me and the Spirit is life and the Spirit gives life – the kind of life that lives unshackled and unashamed. This is the impression I want to make.

—

Today is the first day of Lent, Ash Wednesday, and I want to live it unshackled and unashamed.

You may not be giving something up for 40 days, but if you are, let me encourage you: don’t put yourself under the law for 40 days as an act of penitence. If you are in Christ, the law of the Spirit of life has set you free from the law of sin and death. Don’t crawl back under the law so you are condemned again. Instead, live in the freedom His grace provides.

Even as you are giving things up, focus on Jesus as treasure and your small sacrifices will taste so much sweeter.

These 40 days are about choosing Christ instead. When we want chocolate or coffee or facebook or drive-thru or clothes or comfort, choose Christ instead. Sink your teeth into His truth and be filled to full with His grace. He satisfies (Psalm 63) like nothing else.

In sacrifice there is reward and His name is Jesus.

Here’s a devotional you might check out and some of my favorite songs for lent. These 40 days could be a time where you discover what it means to be unshackled and unashamed.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy
Posted on by Caroline 0

slow moments on Sabbath days

Today was not a silent Sabbath. It felt packed to the gills with morning and church and company and projects and movement. It almost felt like all of today was in motion, almost.

Gram and Gramps came up to tour our place and to lend a handyman hand for some of the little projects we’ve got going on. Of course, they came bearing boxes and gifts, odds and ends they’d assembled from their basement that we might have use for. Grandpa almost had the drill running before he took his coat off, madly determined to finish all the projects.

It felt weird to host them in our house – to welcome them into a space I desperately want to be as comfortable as their little house on the corner.

What is it about my grandparents’ home that makes it so wonderful? Those two steps up the landing before I swing open the wooden door in the entryway are always filled with anticipation. It doesn’t matter if I’m stopping by to pick up jam or sitting down to share some of Gram’s amazing beef stew.

I love it.

And so, I wondered today what it would take. What is that thing that makes a home feel so good and safe and welcoming? Like it’s a good time to tell stories and drink coffee slowly and spread a board game across the table for the afternoon. It’s that thing that quickly convinces that you are not in a hurry.

I want to have a home like that – where even the most packed of Sabbath Sundays have slow moments.

Hm.

Maybe that’s it – inviting people in to share slow moments with you. When all the rest of life is rushing, it’s about being still and knowing who is sovereign.

Maybe that’s the it thing.

 

Posted on by Caroline 0

keeping the main thing the main thing

Does anyone else (you can admit it silently – I won’t tell) have a hard time keeping the main thing the main thing when it comes to the holidays? That’s a phrase my childhood pastor would use: “keep the main thing the main thing” – and it’s a phrase that reclaims what should be simple about our faith: Christ.

Christ is always central, always best, and always worthy of celebration. Always. Our celebration is not confined to seasons, but there is a special place for greater focus and greater reflection. Christmas is such a season and one in danger of being overshadowed by family plans, casseroles, stressful travel arrangements, Aunt Georgia’s dinner table conversation, and last minute purchases. 

Friends, today I am going to issue a bit of a challenge: don’t give in.

When Satan tries to steal today by overwhelming you with earthly expectations and burnt pumpkin pies, respond by treasuring Christ. If your family gets caught up in tradition and the schedule gets as overstuffed as the turkey, respond by treasuring Christ.

Let’s treasure Christ in our traditions and hold everything else loosely. 

Whether you are the one cooking the turkey or the one in charge of setting up the Christmas tree, this message by Noel Piper reminds us that traditions are Scriptural and so are holidays. Remember how beautifully the Israelites carried out their festivals and feasts? The Lord blessed those gatherings as special times set apart to rejoice with community and remember His provision for them.

As you are washing dishes or picking up the house or setting out that wooden block nativity set your grandpa made, think about ways you might treasure tradition instead of Christ. If you are struggling to keep Christ in the center, consider doing this (free) Advent Devotional. 

And, just so you know – you are not exempt from this encouragement if you do not have children. God has uniquely designed and equipped the Body of Christ so that we can create traditions together that treasure Him. Together we establish routines of praise where everyone has a part – widows, young families, singles, grown families, couples – there is a seat at the abundant table of tradition for everyone in God’s family to celebrate His mercies!

I do not own a home that requires rearranging nor do I have children to scold if they upset the cookie sprinkles… but I do have a responsibility as a member of the Body of Christ to step into the Christmas celebration with Christ as my greatest treasure and greatest tradition.

It is my hope that as a guest, daughter, sister, aunt, and friend I will be ready to make the main thing my favorite thing to celebrate.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

Posted on by Caroline 2

counting blessings, and what to do when there are too many

We sang, crowded in concentric circles around the basement with my mom pounding out the hymn on the piano. We sang the familiar song that has accompanied every Thanksgiving I can remember – even the Thanksgivings where I have been far from this little countryside gathering. It seems that counting blessings got into my bloodstream real early and has never left.

When we had little, we counted. When we had much, we counted. When we struggled, we counted. When we prevailed, we counted.

The blessings always seemed to outnumber our math, so we counted by song and we’re still counting.

I can’t put my finger on the emotion hanging in that long skinny room this past Thursday, but every year it seems to swell for the new little ones and the ones married in. The emotion is heavier than the scent of turkey and stuffing and Aunt Jane’s coconut pecan pie. The emotion of counting blessings is a heavy one.

I wonder if we count our blessings like someone counts a harvest… and we’re accountable for what happens after it’s been stored away.

Sometimes I find myself getting caught up in the counting, overwhelmed by what I’ve been given. I’m drawn into thanks and into joy as I reflect on these gifts – as I look on the storehouses of blessings that are bent to bursting. And as I get caught up, I get stuck.

I stop at counting and thanking.

This year, I’m feeling the Lord asking me to count my blessings so that I know exactly what I am giving back to Him. It is not enough to be thankful. It is not enough to get overwhelmed and weepy at the Lord’s provision. It is not enough.

Thanksgiving and joy are part of the journey into greater joy and greater thanksgiving as we count the blessings as they go out from our possession. In the same way that we count the blessings we’ve been given, we must also count the blessings as we give. Because we were never meant to hold fast to anything but Christ.

I have so many blessings to count, but having many blessings is never the problem. The problem is my hoarding what has been counted.

As I read through Kevin DeYoung‘s Hole in Our Holiness, I came to his reflection on this passage from Timothy 4 and specifically verse 15, “Practice these things, immerse yourself in them, so that all may see your progress.”

I thought of all the ways I make excuses for my slow progress on the holiness road and the excuses I allow others to make for me. I thought of the conversations in my head where I’ve said, “But you aren’t making hardly any money right now…” and “No one really expects you to give…” and “No one really knows your schedule, anyway…”

And I thought about how my beliefs about blessings sometimes stretch a great distance from my behavior with blessings.

Command and teach these things. Let no one despise you for your youth, but set the believers an example in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith, in purity. Until I come, devote yourself to the public reading of Scripture, to exhortation, to teaching. Do not neglect the gift you have, which was given you by prophecy when the council of elders laid their hands on you. Practice these things, immerse yourself in them, so that all may see your progress. Keep a close watch on yourself and on the teaching.Persist in this, for by so doing you will save both yourself and your hearers.

1 Timothy 4:11-16 ESV (emphasis mine)

Counting blessings is only the first of a two-part transfer. The second part is the way you transfer the blessings to others. This I must practice in a way that my progress is noticeable. I must make my behavior – my speech, conduct, love, faith, and purity – match my beliefs in a way that transfers blessings into the lives of others.

I’m not discounting the ways I have succeeded in blessing others – by God’s grace I hope it does happen. But, we have never arrived at a final destination on the holiness road, so we must keep journeying.

And when my pack gets full of blessings, I know I must transfer the joyful load so I may travel light.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

Posted on by Caroline 1

when I go to the country for a holiday

When I go to the country for a holiday, I imagine I will have time for projects and books and all the things that my normal routine squeezes out. I picture myself productive in the afternoons, nestled in with coffee and computer to pound out everything that’s pressing.

When I actually get to the country for a holiday, I laugh at my imagined productivity because the days are full – too full to be productive in projects and books and lists. Full of life and laughter and people. There is never a good time to “get away” because my parents live in a very “away” place. We wake up and wander into the kitchen for breakfast, then we wander into the living room for play time, and then the day wanders along until we curl under the covers for sweet rest once again.

But the day is so full that it pushes my weekly understanding of productivity aside. The best and most beautiful thing to do with those country moments is to live them – to cheer the family football game with cousins and eat leftover turkey sandwiches in the evening, to gesture wildly with charades and chase little ones around for hide-and-seek, to curl up with blankets after everyone else is in bed and ask questions our day routines don’t allow.

The crowded Nichols house was waking up with the dawn on Friday morning and Black was more than an hour away.

When I go to the country for a holiday, the color is warm, the table is full, and the company is unmatched.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

“Before you go out into the world, wash your face in the clear crystal of praise. Bury each yesterday in the fine linen and spices of thankfulness.” –Charles Spurgeon

Posted on by Caroline 4

the opposite of mid-life crisis

Some couples graduate into their 50s and revert back to their adolescence. Isn’t that what a mid-life crisis is? You know, extravagant spending and adventures because it’s “all about me” and I’ve got to a have a cultural norm to explain it?

Vomit car exhibit two

I know, I know.
I can’t possibly empathize because I’m in my late 20s and I don’t understand how practical and mission-minded expensive motorcycles are. But, I have a reason to pick this middle life bone. My parents are having the opposite experience. They would never tell you that, so I’m going to.

My parents have hearts the size of Texas and they are constantly looking for ways to grow them even bigger. Recently, my mom sent me a text that said, “What would you think of us fostering two freshmen girls?”

She had to expect my response would be, “Yessssss! Of course!” I mean, as a sophomore in college I sent my parents pictures of children who were awaiting adoption in the state of Iowa. Clearly I would be in favor of the idea, but I’m always in favor of dramatic life changes if they are in the direction of ministering with the gifts you’ve been given.

Then I talked to my dad. He was counting the cost – thinking about how his house would change and family gatherings would be different. He was thinking about curfews and possibly inviting two people to be part of our family forever. He was considering his role as protector for my mom who has spent herself in giving to others. He was counting the cost and it made me consider the magnitude of the life-altering adjustment.

I heard my dad’s prayer requests for unselfishness. I heard my mom’s prayer requests for these girls to have a future. I heard both of them ask for hearts enlarged to fit God’s purpose for them at this stage in their lives and I’m humbled.

My parents will never tell you they’ve got it figured out, because they don’t. Their lives are evidence of their humble posture toward what God is calling them into next. I count it truly a privilege to learn how to love my Lord better alongside parents who are doing the same. This might be the best lesson they are teaching me.

The opposite of a mid-life crisis is getting intentional about serving others to the point where it hurts… it means adjusting your life in a way that’s painful so that others might benefit. There’s never a stage in life where you arrive and can say, “At last! Comfort and relaxation and vacation.” That is not a life stage in God’s development plan for your holiness. It just isn’t.

The beauty is that the pursuit of holiness – the forever life stage – is also the most rewarding and satisfying way you can choose to spend your days. That’s not my guarantee, either.

“In His presence is fullness of joy and pleasure forevermore.” Psalm 16:11

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

Posted on by Caroline 6

how does He love me? let me count the ways

Too much. Too full. Too wonderful. Too magnificent.

I don’t know where to put it all – the love, that is. It’s like I’m a bucket sitting under a faucet on full blast that someone forgot about. Except there is no mistake – no forgetfulness or neglect. The water running over all my edges is every bit intentional.

Maybe I can give a glimpse… a little slice of the millions of miracles that burst like the morning in my life. There is power in naming blessings, even if our attempts to name miracles make them sound like they are less than miraculous. May God be glorified by my grateful heart today.

You might read these and think, “I see a few things there I might call miraculous, but even those are stretches. I can explain most of these away with reason (or lack thereof) or chance.” To you I boldly say: “Friend, everything can always have a different ending. Always. These endings are miraculous because they happened when they didn’t have to. Join me in my gratitude or don’t, but let me know if your heart feels lighter if you choose the latter.”

I’ll start from last Thursday, just because this list must have a beginning and an end. But, I’d like to try to count the ways.

  • Praying with high school girls on the streets of Ames and sharing my heart for the harvest party on Saturday to be a time of love, community, fellowship, and blessing… and praying against the weather the meteorologist predicted because a fall party really must happen on a cool evening with the leaves dancing in a gentle breeze. (Miracle – ever thought that praying for miracles is a miracle?)
  • An impromptu gathering of friends to laugh and share and make decorations for said harvest party… which ended up also being a sleepover.
  • Sharing pumpkin apple pancakes with a beautiful friend while listening to her heart to love youth and grow in ministry… and praying again against Saturday’s weather, claiming clear skies with severe boldness. Miracle.
  • A volunteer on Friday with a heart of gold willing to share in all the tasks at work that drain energy from my veins. Nothing short of a miracle.
  • An afternoon of errands and baking and listening to the weatherman… and praying again against Saturday’s weather (tornadoes predicted and severe storms likely).
  • Despite numerous adjustments and a desperate lack of mathematical skills (one should not only multiply ingredients when changing a recipe, but also take into account the cooking method and container), chili for 40 was set to simmer in the crockpot and another pot safely stowed in the fridge.
  • A clumsy maneuvering around several kitchen mishaps (spilled liquid Crisco, sketchy ingredient substitutions and clumpy powdered sugar) still resulted in delicious desserts.
  • A phone call from across the world that came at the precise moment of baking, preparing, decorating, planning exhaustion when I needed just that kind of diversion.
  • The safe 2:00 am arrival of my Honduran sister and the hours of catching up that followed until we resigned ourselves to sleep at 4:30 am out of sheer willpower. Seriously, a miracle.
  • Baking pumpkin muffins early Saturday morning and filling the kitchen with the flavor of fall right before laughing every minute of a mile run for charity with a dear and silly friend who didn’t mind a threatening sky.
  • Sitting snuggled together in a wet stadium with family (new and old and adopted), cheering on our favorite team in our favorite colors at the 50 yard line. Miracle.
  • When we left the game, Alejandra and I had absolutely no idea where we parked in the residential area by the stadium. Not an idea. At the point of exasperation, we prayed. When we looked up, my car Eddie was looking back at me. Miracle.
  • Opening a trail of gifts from my Honduran sister that told the most beautiful story of friendship. Every card I opened had so much meaning and so much laughter. If you had told me 5 years ago that this former student would now be a close friend, I would have given you the crazy eye. Miracle.
  • Though the morning was full of rain, the afternoon cleared and cooled enough to hang lights outside and accomplish all our pre-party planning without any funnel clouds in the sky. Miracle.
  • Mulled spiced wine happened and it was just as delicious as I imagined. Seriously, that one is a miracle.
  • Invitations to +-25 people which read, “bring friends and a fall-inspired dish” draws the most beautiful and diverse crowd with the most delicious and surprising spread. The combination of people present at the harvest party last night will never happen again, but it was exactly the right and best group of friends and strangers. Miracle.
  • A sister who set up a photobooth to capture memories and laughter and stories like only a sister knows how. She knows exactly the kind of gift that makes the most sense to the person on the receiving end. Her creativity and thoughtfulness comes out in all sorts of joyful ways and blesses others like candy at a parade. Miracle.
  • Conversations with friends (new and old) that were just as delightful as the absolutely amazing spread of food. Moving in and out of conversations was a dance I’ll to any day. Miracle.
  • Flowers, coffee, and some of the best hugs I’ve had in a long time. Impromptu songs, piano playing, games, and the kind of laughter that makes strangers walk in wanting to be a part of whatever is happening (because that happened, too!). Miracle.
  • A gift that somehow appeared from around the world wrapped in all kinds of thoughtfulness, a card in the mail with sweet, sweet words of encouragement and love, hearing the voices of friends from different places and my niece say, “Happy Birthday.” Miracle.
  • Laughter is a category all its own. I could marvel at laughter all day if you’d let me. What a mysterious and wonderful thing it is to laugh. Miracle.
  • When the last person walked outside, the raindrops finally fell. But no tornados, no severe weather, no tropical catastrophes made a mess of the harvest party. Miracle.
  • Sunday morning coffee before college Sunday school class, where we thought about how Jesus stepped toward brokenness and evil and sin in order to speak Truth amidst confusion. Miracle.
  • A sermon that spoke to my heart – learning about friendship with God through the life of Jesus and understanding how that gives us a boldness that is out of this world. Miracle.
  • Sweet, uninterrupted conversation with one of my favorite miracles – hearing her heart and desire to seek the kingdom first and trust that “all else will be added.” Miracle.

Miracles, all of these.

My heart is full to overflowing with blessings and I know the Giver of all these gifts. I know the Maker of everything good before it was made.

How does He love me? Let me count the ways. Let me tell you all the benefits of having such a friend.

But, it might take forever. Just FYI.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

Posted on by Caroline 8

sisters weekend surprises

It was my idea to not tell anyone where we were going and what we were doing this weekend. Apparently, Christina took that seriously. She dropped off the radar with her friends and agreed to meet me at a quaint B & B. I left a louder trail, I guess, and I can’t quite figure out why that is. I told someone we were having a “prayer retreat” and others that we were on a “getaway.” I guess I’m uncomfortable saying, “Oh, nothing much” when someone asks what I’m up to this weekend. I guess I have to say something and then even I’m surprised sometimes at what comes out.

Well, even if it wasn’t completely secret, the B & B getaway was full of amazing, delicious surprises! It made me count the sweet blessings of being stateside, where I can spend time with one of my favorite people. Though you may not understand it, I can guarantee you’d be rolling in laughter for one reason or another if you had been there.

  • On the way to pick up crafting materials at Hobby Lobby, we stopped at the gas station for a Founty (our sister-in-law Bethany has endeared us to call our favorite form of soda by this name). While making too big of a scene for a simple fountain soda, the attendant wanted to know what was the cause of all the laughter. We must have had a case of the Friday-afternoon-loopies because we giggled out a joke lamenting our single status. As we were leaving, the attendant said, “All I know is, somebody’s missing out!” We laughed our way into the car and then decided Daniel had been sent to speak deep truth into our silly lives.
  • At the Mexico-inspired B & B, we met Jaime and Daphne and their granddaughter who showed us to The Tabasco Room, where we would be staying. We were charmed instantly by Jaime’s grandfatherly way and his thick Spanish accent. His birthday was today and so we played the age guessing game over mexican shot glasses of Jose Cuervo last night (btw, 100% agave is apparently the only way to buy Tequila). He guessed we were 19 and 22 … and then attributed our youthfulness to innocence as we fumbled with comments about the smoothness of the liquor.
  • One of Jaime’s daughters said, “I’m sorry” when she heard our true ages because she is convinced, “it gets better after 30.” So, that is something to look forward to!
  • There was a couple celebrating their anniversary, a couple traveling back north from the State Fair, and a man in Ames on business. As we helped ourselves to some Mexican coffee, one of the men said, “You girls look like the Olympic sand volleyball team… just 6 inches shorter.” We looked at each other with eyebrows raised and said, “Yeah.. we’ll take that!”
  • One of the guests at the B & B was a farmer and he was pretty impressed with our ability to “talk shop” so much that he asked if we were in the business! We both felt pretty good about that.
  • One of the strangest surprises was the fact that no one thought we were sisters. We’ve never thought we looked especially alike, but people have always told us we do. So, it was weird when we had to keep explaining that we were related. But, maybe more weird was Christina’s realization that it could look any different and her hasty explanation even when it wasn’t warranted.

Our conversations drifted in and out of serious with a good dose of silly mixed in. No surprise there, I suppose, but a lot of refreshment. We have never really lived close enough for the kind of friendship that hangs out on the weekends. So, I’m trying to live in the moments where I do right now.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

Posted on by Caroline 0