Where I'm From

I am from tall Maple trees changing colors in the fall;
From hand-tied rope hammocks and grass blade whistles

I am from multiple moves across state lines
And from the Midwest where I call home

I am from homemade sweet pickles and cheesy garlic grits;
From long family roadtrips, counting cows, and license plate games

I am from parents who fell in love and got engaged two weeks after meeting
And who fell in love with Jesus some ten years later

I am from traditions and heirlooms and family trees;
From farmers in the South and a doctor on the Mayflower

I am from tea and coffee and fluffy pancake breakfasts,
From omelets and biscuits, even sometimes for dinner

I am from tent camping and bonfires and roasting marshmallows over amber coals;
From stargazing and canoeing in an ancient aluminum canoe

I am from scientists and teachers and musicians and artists and farmers;
From neighbors and friends and jacks-of-all-trades

I am from shoulders to cry on and words that encourage;
From parents who love me and support me in all things

I am from black and white movies and British miniseries;
From family game nights and jokes that are punny

I am from backyard parties for everyone we love;
From steaks on the grill and vegetables from the garden

I am from neighborhood sports leagues and summer swim meets;
From fireworks and sparklers and bikes decorated with streamers

I am from beach houses and sandcastles and sunburns in summer;
From pounds of steamed shrimp and catching crabs in the surf

I am from laughter and tears and learning and growing;
From love and joy and following Jesus together

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So tell me...from where do you come?

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This poem was inspired by a writing prompt on theHighCalling.org.

Foreign languages make me happy

What if speaking another language was more than just an occasional, brief diversion? What if it was my everyday?

My "work best friend" and I started a new workplace diversion activity today: "language phrase of the day." It will involve me writing a phrase in a foreign language on a post-it note with its English equivalent. We'll probably stick with Italian and French, but you never know what might pop into my head.

Which leads me here... I just find it so amazing that there are these little bits of strange languages hibernating in my brain. They lie dormant and peaceful for days or weeks until suddenly a single word or phrase will just leap up and into and out of my mouth. Well, sometimes I keep them in and try to make them stay quiet. But that often leads to more of their friends waking up and throwing a foreign language party in my head. It can be very distracting.

I digress.



"Jambo Kenya!"


I had the privilege of studying French in school in the US and practicing it in Guadeloupe and Canada and France. Studying and speaking Italian in Italy. Studying and attempting to speak Khmer in Cambodia. Learning and practicing bits of Hungarian in Hungary. Spanish in Nicaragua. German in Germany. Hindi in India. Thai in Thailand. Swahili in Kenya... Whenever I'm in a place where they speak something other than English, I want to participate! I. Love. Languages.

I feel kind of guilty when someone asks me if I'm fluent in French. I studied it for so many years; I should be, right? Unfortunately, when you don't use a second or third language on a regular basis it goes to that hibernating place in the language center of the brain. And it gets lazy. Well, it's probably a mutual thing. I have to practice if I want to retain any sort of fluency, any sort of ease of conversation. I find that it's almost always easier to understand someone speaking in French or Italian, but I struggle to create a response that isn't full of poor conjugation and weak pronunciation. Nonetheless, I try my best to just jump right in and engage in conversation and hope that some of those phrases and words (that come to mind so easily when I don't need them) will help me when I really need them.

Just a few weeks ago I had a "red letter day" that started when I diverged from my daily routine. (Sometimes I need to mix things up for a little adventure.) Instead of stopping at Starbucks on my way to work, I drove directly to my parking lot...and walked to the Starbucks on the Circle. I know. I am wild. I love working downtown and walking to get lunch or coffee is one of the reason I love it. Wide sidewalks. People bustling around, heading to work. Feeling connected to others.

That morning I noticed that the two men ordering their lattes before me at Starbucks were definitely not on their way to work in downtown Indianapolis. They were carrying backpacks. They had accents. And they spoke to each in French! I was then on a mission: I had to talk them before they left the cafe!

I was excited. But, then I was faced with a great challenge: What do I say??? French, French, French...Come on, brain! Think of something? How about..."Are you French?" Well, okay, that works. (Thankfully, it sounds so much better in French: "Vous êtes français?") He seemed pleasantly surprised by my question and was quite patient with me as we spoke in French for a few moments. I learned that he was traveling with his son and they were doing a tour of the U.S., passing through Indianapolis on their way to Chicago. So fun! I wished them a "Bon Voyage" and continued on to work, as they went to catch a bus. I couldn't stop smiling as I walked to my building. I'm sure some people that I passed must have wondered what I was so happy about on a Tuesday at 8 o'clock in the morning!

Whenever I get the chance to practice a foreign language (and wake up those phrases so comfortably hibernating in my head!), it always makes my day! Which makes me wonder…perhaps I should find a way to speak French (or Italian!) everyday? What if I had a job that allowed me every day to do something that makes me happy? I should probably look into that…

to market, to market

Voulez-vous aller à Paris avec moi? Who wouldn't want to go to Paris?!

A few weeks A couple of months ago (this post has been in draft mode for quite some time!) my friend Eve came downtown to join me for lunch. She picked me up and we drove over to the Indianapolis City Market. The Market has really grown and developed over the past several years. Almost all of the vendor areas are full, and selling everything from bug jewelry (Eve is a science teacher and commented that her students would think this was cool) to antique jewelry (that I can't wait to go back to and shop!) and lots and lots of yummy food!

Eve had a Groupon for a place called "3 Days in Paris"--a veritable crêperie! I first had a taste of their delicious crêpes last summer on a Wednesday--when the City Market vendors take to the street. I couldn't wait to go back! I had the "Black and Blue Moo" filled with roast beef, blue cheese, dried cranberries, spinach, and raspberry chipotle sauce. Yum.

It was one of those extra hot summer days (of which there has been an abundance this summer in Indiana), so we opted to stay inside to eat. We climbed the wrought iron stairs to the upper level that overlooks the vendors and found a little table for two next to the inside railing. It was open and spacious and just a bit noisy--perfect for "what's been going in your life for the past year" conversation. (Eve and I don't get to hang out often enough!) The market was busy with people on their lunch breaks, moms and kids meetings dads for lunch, police officers taking a break from policing--everyone together made it feel alive and fun...and good.

Since then, the City Market, and especially 3 Days in Paris, is my go-to place for lunch with friends from work. I could eat there everyday!

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What exactly is a crêpe? I'm so glad you asked?

[A crêpe (English pronunciation: /ˈkrɛp/,[1] French: [kʁɛp]) is a type of very thin pancake, usually made from wheat flour. The word is of French origin, deriving from the Latin crispa, meaning "curled." While crêpes originate from Brittany, a region in the northwest of France, their consumption is widespread in France and they are considered a national dish. In Brittany, crêpes are traditionally served with cider. Crêpes are served with a variety of fillings, from the most simple with only sugar to flambéed crêpes Suzette or elaborate savoury fillings.]
Thank you, Wikipedia.



God's Love is Strong

This song is just what I needed to hear this morning...



Heavenly Father
You always amaze me
Let your kingdom come
In my world and in my life
You give me the food I need
To live through the day
And forgive me as I forgive
The people that wronged me
Lead me far from temptation
Deliver me from the evil one


I look out the window
The birds are composing
Not a note is out of tune
Or out of place
I look at the meadow
And stare at the flowers
Better dressed than any girl
On her wedding day


So why do I worry?
Why do I freak out?
God knows what I need
You know what I need


Your love is
Your love is
Your love is strong


The kingdom of the heavens
Is now advancing
Invade my heart
Invade this broken town
The kingdom of the heavens
Is buried treasure
Will you sell yourself
To buy the one you've found?


Two things you told me
That you are strong
And you love me
Yes, you love me


Our God in heaven
Hallowed be
Thy name above all names
Your kingdom come
Your will be done
On earth as it is in heaven
Give us today our daily bread
Forgive us wicked sinners
Lead us far away from our vices
And deliver us from these prisons

--"Your Love Is Strong", Jon Foreman