Wedding Update

With 164 days to go, THE WEDDING looms ever nearer, and with every day it seems we fall farther behind in the decisions that must be made, the deposits that must be paid, and the services that must be reserved. And yet--there has been some progress. We have decided the following:

1. The date--July 11.

2. The place--Trinity United Reformed Church (Henry's church).

3. The ministers--each of our beloved pastors has agreed to have a part in the ceremony.

4. Each of us has chosen our best man and attendant of honor--and yes, "attendant" is an intentional choice on my part, and it has nothing to do with political correctness. I just think the word "matron" sounds old and fat (neither of which describes my attendant of honor).

5. That we aren't going to just run off somewhere like Vegas (admittedly my idea--Henry finds this to be a less-than-Reformed approach).

6. The color theme--I let Katie choose, and so it's pink.

7.Invitations have been selected as well as the sentiment. Now I just have to order them.

8. A photographer that I'm really excited about. Her Web site is here.

9. And on the negative side: There will be no cake smashing in the face at the reception; no pictures taken after the ceremony just before the reception (as many as possible before the service); and no bird seed/rice/strange things being thrown at the bride and groom as they leave the church. No unity candle or New Agey sand thing. No receiving line at the end. These little bride and groom bears will be nowhere at the actual wedding. And even if my pastor forgets to say "You may kiss the bride" at the end as he has done at one other wedding I've attended, we shall kiss anyway.

We only have about a thousand major wedding- and marriage-related decisions to make before now and July. We'll be fine.

Happy Birthday, Little Blog

Today marks one year since that fateful Saturday morning when I decided to see just how easy or difficult it was to enter the blogosphere. Obviously, since millions of people are doing it, it really isn't that hard. The difficulty after entering is staying, as I've found. But the past year has been an eventful one, with this little blog being one of the events. So in what has now become "Head and Heart" tradition, here are ten things I love about this little blog.

1. It is always here for me--day or night. Whenever I'm ready, my blog is ready for me.

2. It never complains about being neglected. And there have been many different stretches in the past year when my little blog has been neglected.

3. It doesn't ask, "What's for dinner?" or "Can you take me over to . . .?" or "Can I have $10.00 for . . .?" In fact, it asks nothing of me.

4. It has forced me into more disciplined thought patterns. Because one of my earliest features was a summary of Sunday sermons, I now always take notes and retain much more from my pastor's sermons than in the past. Every conversation, every news article, every life event becomes potential "blog fodder."

5. Journaling isn't for me because--quite frankly--I like an audience. Blogging allows me to write creatively and then hear from a few people.

6. In this busy lifestyle I live, it allows me to communicate with the people in my life, if they want to know what I'm up to. (Even my mom tells me she reads to "keep up on what's going on.")

7. It's forced me to improve my computer skills.

8. It's forced me to learn to communicate issues that are important to me in a tactful (let's hope) way.

9. It's been a means of finding a long-lost college friend.

10. Perhaps it served its greatest purpose back in December as a showcase for my engagement ring.

From what I read, blogs tend not to live very long, and with the events of the coming year, I can't guarantee that this one will enjoy a second birthday. But for now, my happy little blog plods along--certainly longer than I expected. Happy birthday to you!

Visiting Widows in Their Trouble

It's been interesting, transitioning from singleness to "coupleness." Henry and I have had opportunity to attend several couples' events together now, and I have to say that I definitely enjoy going as a couple more than as a single. While I had finally come to terms with my calling to be single in God's providence, I always hoped that I would be called to marriage someday.

And now I feel an even greater responsibility to be an encouragement to those who find themselves alone, whatever the circumstances that have brought a brother or sister to this singleness. I find myself praying, "Don't let me forget, God, what it was like to be a single in the church." It can be very lonely, this being a single adult in the church. And yet in the church, we're called to be brothers and sisters to all, to fellowship with all, even though it can be a challenge at times knowing just how to do that.

And so I especially appreciate a couple of articles this week in Christianity Today written by Miriam Neff. She beautifully and honestly describes some of the difficulties that widows face with the new life circumstances they find themselves in here.

Be sure to read her second article that gives suggestions about what to say and not to say to be an encouragement. Several of her suggestions apply to those who are undergoing various types of trials.

For Julia, or How Dutch of Me

As busy working mothers, Julia and I find it difficult to line up our calendars so that we can get together. But when it finally works out, it's always a good--and long--time. We met for breakfast at Panera, but the lunch crowd was lining up when we finally dragged ourselves away. What could be so exciting, you wonder? Conversations like this one:

Annette: I'm really going to have to get going. I still have a lot to do today. I'm having company over tomorrow night, and I need to get groceries.
Julia: (remembering that Annette has a fairly strict view of the Sabbath) Oh, you can't just go out and get pizza, can you? What are you going to have?
Annette: I'm just going to make some soup and throw some bread, lunch meat, and cheese on the table. Just keeping it easy.
Julia: How Dutch of you, Annette! What kind of soup? Take pictures of it and blog about it. Post the recipe!

You can easily see how time can get away from two friends conversing about such riveting topics. In fact, it was probably another hour or so after this slice of conversation that I actually did go to the grocery store and get the ingredients for Italian sausage soup. And as Julia requested, here is the recipe.

INGREDIENTS:

1 lb. Italian sausage
1 clove garlic, minced
1 chopped onion
2 (14 oz.) cans of beef broth (I added 1 to 2 cups of chicken broth as well)
1 (14.5 oz.) can Italian-style stewed tomatoes
1 cup sliced carrots
1 (14.5 oz.)can great Northern beans, undrained
1 zucchini, cubed
1 pkg. frozen spinach
1/2 cup raw orzo noodles
1/4 tsp. ground black pepper
1/4 tsp. salt
(I also added some Italian seasoning.)
DIRECTIONS:
1. In a stockpot or Dutch oven, brown sausage with garlic and onion. Stir in broth, tomatoes, carrots, and season with salt and pepper. Reduce heat, cover, and simmer 15 minutes.

2. Stir in beans with liquid, zucchini, spinach, and orzo noodles. Cover and simmer another 15 minutes or until zucchini is tender and noodles are cooked.

Or make it really easy like I do. Brown meat, onions, and garlic. Throw it into a crockpot with everything else. Cook on low heat for several hours until it is hot, of course (5 will do).

And I must truly be Dutch, since this observation came from one whose last name is immediately recognizably Dutch, she graduated from Calvin, married a Calvin grad who now works for Calvin, was president of her children's Christian school mothers' club, lives in the heart of Cutlerville, and has a regular feature on her blog entitled "Netherlands Nuesday."

And now I'm looking for a good recipe for split pea soup. . .

Kristi

Today marks the eighteenth anniversary of the death of my younger sister, Kristi. Kristi, just turned twenty years old in December 1989, was in a car accident when she was on her way home from Cedarville College for Christmas break. Complications set in, and she died in a hospital in Dayton, Ohio, a month and a day after her accident. Jon and I had moved to Grand Rapids by then, but I spent most of that month and a day following the accident with the rest of my family in Dayton. I had just returned to Grand Rapids on January 15, the day before she died. My poor dad had the unenviable task of calling to tell me that my sister was gone.

Kristi was a beautiful girl, the baby of our family. In true youngest child form, she was the family clown, and nothing has been quite as funny since the day of her accident. My family still laughs and enjoys life, and we're all grateful for what we have in each other and for the brief life of Kristi, but the valley of the shadow is close by--just a thought away.

Many things have happened in those eighteen years since Kristi died, and many people have come and gone. Katie, Jonathan, my niece Elizabeth, and nephew Garrett are the most notable additions--and how interesting that one that Kristi loved as a brother--Jon--has gone, and now Henry has come.

Reminders of Kristi are never far. Whenever I step into Katie's messy room (Kristi was definitely a messy), see her admiring herself in the mirror, hear her musical giggle, and watch her go out the door in the middle of January with shoes and no socks--Kristi comes quickly to mind.

A piano book sits on the piano in our living room, the very piano she and I both practiced on as girls; a Beethoven piece with the measures numbered in pencil inside and her name and high school on a label on the cover take me back to a day when Kristi called me, in tears, because a mean judge had been overly critical at music competition.

In a photo session during the holidays, Katie photographed her cousin Elizabeth--Kristi's niece--wearing the crown Kristi had won as our town's homecoming queen the summer before her accident. Kristi would have thoroughly enjoyed watching her nieces trying on her crown, formal dresses, and clothes.

A picture in my bedroom of two young girls--sisters--one a bride, the other the maid of honor, both with smiling eyes, one with dark hair and the other blonde, tells the story of a happy summer day when things were much simpler and life was much lighter.

During the Christmas season, I listened to a lovely soprano singing "I Know That My Redeemer Liveth" during the Messiah concerts, and remembered accompanying Kristi on that piece and then hearing another soprano sing it at her funeral.

After Kristi died, I read book after book, trying to reconcile this tragedy with my faith, with the God who gives and takes away. One of the books that stands out in my memory concluded that life is a gift--not something owed to us and certainly something to be treasured. My sister's life was a gift to her and to her family; she continues to enjoy that gift in the presence of the God who gave it to her, and one day again we will join her in celebrating the gift of life and the God who has given it. And I'm certain there will be singing and laughing.

Hyper-Mega Power

For this reason, because I have heard of your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love toward all the saints, I do not cease to give thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers, that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and of revelation in the knowledge of him, having the eyes of your hearts enlightened, that you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power toward us who believe, according to the working of his great might that he worked in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the one to come. ~Ephesians 1:15-21

The text for our sermon yesterday morning was from this passage in Ephesians as well as Canons of Dort, Head 4, Articles 11 and 12, which have to do with God's irresistible power, the very power that Paul is referring to in the bolded part of the verses above. This power from God is like no power on the face of the earth, and Paul uses an interesting style in the Greek here to try to convey to us something of the sense of God's power.

Being a language lover, I always enjoy it when Pastor Freswick explains these unique language uses to let us know just what the original hearers of this letter would have understood. The language here describes a power that goes beyond what is expected--interestingly, the language of throwing, like a shot putter. The power is a "throw beyond," or a "hyper throw." Apparently Paul piles on Greek superlative after superlative, trying to give us a sense of God's power. The best he can do is to tell us that this is a hyper-mega power, and there really is no way we can conceive of the superlative power at work in us. In fact, we are the objects of this power, we who were dead, children of wrath, far from God.

Once this power is at work in us, we cannot resist it, and its result is that we believe. We are made alive to become children of God. How amazing to think that this much power was required to bring us to God--that we were that far from Him! How amazing to think that God was willing to spend this power to make us his children! As Paul concludes, we were without hope, and yet in Christ Jesus we have been brought near--and all of this by God's irresistible power.

January Beauty

After the excitement of the holidays and getting engaged and all, things have calmed down somewhat, and while I do intend to post about Katie's exciting adventures in the world of politics this week and my own head-spinning entrance into the world of wedding planning, tonight she needs to use the computer to write a speech. So we struck a deal: I read her speech, and she lets me post one of her pictures. I think she captured this unique contrast of the whiteness of snow with the redness of the leaf quite well. Enjoy!

Reading My Gifts

While my favorite gift this Christmas was my beautiful engagement ring, I did get some other gifts that I'm enjoying in those moments when I'm not working or staring at previously mentioned sparkling ring. (How long will that ring continue to fascinate me, I wonder?)

Anyway, two of the people that I love the best gave me some of the gifts I love the best: books. And while I haven't gotten entirely through either one just yet, I'm thoroughly enjoying both. And I've already found noteworthy quotes to share, and one day there will be reviews of both.

Katie gave me a novel on my list, The Thirteenth Tale, by Diane Setterfield. It's one of my favorite plot lines--a book about two writers, one who has been commissioned to write the biography of a famous, prolific, elderly British author. The biographer, Margaret Lea, often reflects on language and reading. Here are two great passages I've discovered so far:

"People disappear when they die. Their voice, their laughter, the warmth of their breath. Their flesh. Eventually their bones. All living memory of them ceases. This is both dreadful and natural. Yet for some there is an exception to this annihilation. For in the books they write they continue to exist. We can rediscover them. Their humor, their tone of voice, their moods. Through the written word they can anger you or make you happy. They can comfort you. They can perplex you. They can alter you. All this, even though they are dead. Like flies in amber, like corpses frozen in ice, that which according to the laws of nature should pass away is, by the miracle of ink on paper, preserved. It is a kind of magic."

"For me, to see is to read." [I can definitely relate to that one!]

And Henry gave me a beautiful book, also on my book wish list, A Diary of Private Prayer by John Baillie. The book is a collection of prayers for all of the mornings and evenings of the month. This Scottish Calvinist theologian has an understanding of prayer that is instructive, devotional, and edifying all at once. Here's the opening to one for Sunday:

Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty: heaven and earth are full of Thy Glory; glory be to Thee, O Lord most high.

"O God, I crave Thy blessing upon this day of rest and refreshment. Let me rejoice today in Thy worship and find gladness in the singing of Thy praises. Forbid, I beseech Thee, that only my body should be refreshed today and not my spirit. Give me grace for such an act of self-recollection as may again bring together the scattered forces of my soul. Enable me to step aside for a little while from the busy life of common days and take thought about its beginning and its end. May Jesus Christ be to-day the companion of my thoughts, so that His divine manhood may more and more take root within my soul. May He be in me and I in Him, even as Thou wert in Him and through Him mayest be in me and I at rest with Thee."