Jacob and Autumn

Jacob Donovan! We're so excited to have a nephew. Wendy and Daryl are wonderful parents. He's growing like crazy- off the charts in height and weight ('atta boy!). James and I got to spend a few days with him at the shore last week, and we just couldn't get enough of him! He's a little snugglebug!

Whew...I am so glad to have finished that race. Yahoo!!! I completed it in 1 hr. 34 minutes. I had hoped to break an hour and a half, but in the end, I was just thrilled to have finished the race! It was tougher than I thought it would be...9.2 miles is a long, long way to run. My legs feel something like Gumby legs today, and my poor toes are just crying! Anyhow, it's September 4th, and we're off, launching right into autumn. I am so thankful for the cooler days and the fall breeze! This is by far my favorite season...I love the warm, blazing autumn colors at the farmer's market- gold, maroon, and deep orange mums for sale (did you know that the word 'mum' is short for 'chrysanthemum'? Would you believe, I never knew that! What a discovery! The only reason I can actually spell 'chrysanthemum' is because Anne spelled it correctly in Mr. Phillips' spelling bee, beating Gilbert! Anne of Green Gables is always applicable to life in general.) Anyhow, here we are, Oliver and I, hanging out in our little apartment with the windows open, smelling the fall air. Actually I think I'm smelling his litterbox. Gross. Time to take care of that!
School starts today for me; James started last week. He already has a presentation this Thursday- this is his last semester of the Master's program! I'm so proud of him. He's is almost a MASTER of ENGLISH. Wow. How does anyone get to be called a Master of anything? Well, I'm taking a horrible Statistics course this fall, which I despise already. I don't want to know about charts or variables. Ugh. I'm mad just thinking about it. I'm also taking a pretty easy psychology course, which should be remotely interesting. I'm glad to have a reprieve from Anatomy and Physiology courses, so that I can work, work, work, all through September, and save up some money. Yes, I can feel it in my bones: chrysanthemums and chilly nights- this autumn is going to be a good one.

August Morning: Run Like A Girl

Well, I'm not sure that 11:00 officially counts as morning, but I'm just getting going (sigh!). It's a cool, breezy morning here in Buffalo, perfect for sleeping in (especially after a crazy shift at work last night, and not getting home until 11:30). Oliver, however, had other plans. He was on my face at 5:00, 6:00, and finally at 8:00, when I finally got up with him, and tried desperately to keep him from sticking his wet, cold nose in my sleepy little face! James and I say we're not ready for babies yet, but this is making me think we may as well throw some in the mix! I am waiting patiently for my ipod to charge, so I can head out on my dreaded run. Today is a 6-miler (eek!), in preparation for the 15 K Buffalo Fleet Feet race that I joined with my dear friend Allyson Beeke. It's on September 3. We're both terrified. I haven't run 15 K (approx 9.2 miles) in a year and a half since the Riverbank Run in Grand Rapids. My body is protesting wildly, but some sort of manic determination in me keeps me lacing up these shoes. Here goes!

Mango Juice and Mosquitoes

It's been hot here in Buffalo. The thermometer has been hovering around 90 degrees for the past few days. I am thankful that our landlord was in to open up a new (beautiful) piano window in our apartment; it provides a lovely cross breeze, and it's quite cute, opening from the top. Anyhow, here I am, off-track already. The point is that this heat has me thinking about lying awake in bed at night in Haiti, listening to the drums in the nearby village, and trying desperately not to think about how hot I was, or how many mosquitoes were flying around my face in the dark. At least I don't have mosquitoes crawling up my nose here in Buffalo. But, as much as I don't remember those hot, sweaty nights with great fondness, I do ache every time I think of that beautiful country, and all the friends I left behind in the villages of Coupon and Roche Blanche. I even dug out one of my favorite photos to share with you. I'm afraid it didn't scan as well as I'd hoped, but if you look closely, you can see a young girl doing her homework outside her home. I took this photo at about 4 p.m., in a village very near my own. I wish that I could share all of the delightful (and some not-so) sights, sounds, and smells of Haiti...everything was so loud...vendors and buyers shouting in the marketplace, the squawks and squeals of animals among the crowds, flashes of bright color--from womens' clothing to the melange of veggies in woven baskets at the market to the bright signs and homes painted horrendous pastel colors...it was constantly an overwhelming sensory experience. I was reading back in my journal from my year spent there, and I often ache for the experience of life there, raw and throbbing. I often feel like my days here are spinning, numbing, sort of a self-indulged dream, where all other objects and persons revolve around my hopes and my needs. There, I couldn't run from Old Navy to coffee dates, buy new mascara, wish I were skinnier, or microwave my dinner. It simply wasn't an option. My days were full of hard, hot work, giving, giving, giving, painfully long conversations, yet another child at my door asking for food/water, homemade music, dancing, making mango juice (so so delicious!), and writing by light of the oil lamp after the sun set. I know I shouldn't idealize it; I remind myself of the loneliness, the frustration of everything breaking, the frustration of being "blanc" (white)...but somehow the fears and frustrations fade with the thought of going back. I can't wait to get back. For all the hot nights, flat tires, mosquitoes, broken cars that take weeks to fix, and dirt covering everything I own, my soul longs to get back. I have to keep reminding myself that each Anatomy and Physiology class is taking me closer and closer to the goal of getting back to that dreadful, gorgeous, throbbing country. James and I love to talk about the possibilities of opening our own mission, getting teams together, raising our children speaking Creole. I know that our whole life won't be there, but I am certainly excited about returning to my village, seeing my dear friends again, forgetting the mascara, rolling up my sleeves, and getting to work.

The Sound of the Fiddle, Reeling and True

Yesterday was delightful. We awoke at 8:00 to a damp breeze blowing in the bedroom window, the leaves dripping with fresh rain. After a ride to school, a successful exam, and an honest day's work for James, we headed home for one of my first evenings off of the week. I snuggled up on our old velvet green couch with a book, At Home in Mitford (a delightful story of the mishaps and adventures of an Episcopalian minister in a small North Carolina town), and read with the rain until I fell asleep. James woke me up at 5:00 p.m. with a delightful surprise...Nickel Creek, a fabulous bluegrass band, was playing downtown in the square at a free concert! We looked out the window at the teeming rain and grimaced at the menacing thunder, but decided to brave the elements with the hope of hearing Sara Watkins (fiddle) and the world's best mandolin player, Chris Thiele. We arrived at the square to a beautiful sight...crowds of ponchos and multi-colored umbrellas, and the sound of a fiddle reeling. We found our way to some soaking wet seats on the side of a statue, and settled in for the show. I was thrilled to hear the opening notes of their first song...The Fox. You can't help but smile when you hear the runs and reels of this song, laughing through the rain. All around us, people clapped and danced as the rain poured down, puddles of music and joy at our feet.

Gray Days

With a sigh of relief, I am happy to say that two years of Gray days have finally paid off! I'm thrilled to see the finished product of those late nights and long hours of editing, re-editing, and generally pouring over Gray's Sermons. This book is a jewel, and I'm thrilled to have been a part of its publication. The content is beautiful: honest gospel sermons which deal frankly with the issues of life, but also showcase God's love in Christ for any and all who believe. If you're interested, contact my friend Steve Renkema at Reformation Heritage Books. He'll set you up! Also, thanks to Amy Zevenbergen for a beautiful cover design. Nice work, gang!