My Pansy Petals

She was a the princess when she joined the family 6 years after the last child. She turned into a nearly white-headed chub. She received many a kiss and affectionate hug by adoring brothers and sisters. She laughed and cried and grew up. She became a sassy six year-old with spunk and friends. She was ten and we realized our baby was growing up too fast.

Now she's 12 and a half. Nearly a teenager, but she's still my Pansy Petals. She loves purple, baby-dolls, friends, playing, riding her bike, drawing, making her room beautiful, laughing, and simply having fun. She's still my baby.

Here we kids smile for a picture right after the Princess was born.

Gabriel's pony-tail had to have been the work of Lydia's hands. 

The chub. 

This is a recent picture Mom sent me (or maybe it was Lydia herself) of Lydia's cheesiness. 

I'd like to say that Lydia picked up some of her spunk from this handsome dude from spending nearly a year with him. She's a sack of potatoes

She puts a smile on the weary heart. 

The beautiful young lady. 

I took this picture just days before I left home. 

The resurrection.

Little girl smile in the California hills.

She's getting so big!!

Also known as Turbanator for the towel turban she often wears throughout dinner. 

She's a friend. 

One of those slobbery kisses. It looks like Gabriel is in ecstasy. 

Not too afraid of snakes, huh?

The most recent picture I got. I'm guessing she was going to school or shopping with her doll. My Pansy Petals is still my little girl. 

Miss you, Sweet!

I love you, Lydia!!

Elisabeth

💗💗💗

*The pictures were taken by me, Dad, Mom, probably Lydia, and who knows who else. 

Tea, Stinky Floor, Germans, And Much More

Some days call for a delicious cup of hot tea, but notice, there's no milk in there! So it actually wasn't as good as it could have been, but still added that touch of warmth and home to my day.

My room-mate, Alaina, and I try our best to make our basement dwelling as appealing as possible. 

A walk down to the Stone Arch Bridge gave me much pleasure and beauty. 

Here's the stinky floor story. One night we had a water disaster. The radiators were leaking, and the shower wasn't turning off, water dripped onto my bed, and the water was finally turned off. The next day we only had cold water. We eventually got that fixed, then Alaina and I noticed a very bad stink. It turned out that out carpet was wet and stinking up the basement. Someone cleaned it, but it continued to stink. After the third or so time of cleaning (including the above "Carpet Odor Eliminator"), we are good to go. 

On August 1st, 2007, 35W bridge collapsed, killing 13 people. They built the bridge again and it is quite massive. The picture does not show just how big it is.

One afternoon while taking a walk, I past a drunken bunch of Germans. (I'm only assuming they were Germans by their dress, and assuming they were drunk by the copious amounts of alcohol I saw--and smelled.) 

The IDS building is the tallest in Minneapolis and it really is a neck-strainer.

More tea--with milk! Yay!

I had to write a book on Creation. Ruth by John Piper has little to do with creation; I just wanted something sweet to read. I highly recommend it. 

Valentine. He's my vole that I enjoyed for a few days, but I haven't seen him. He must have been eaten or left the area. Anyway, he was a fun gift from God for that time being. 

Shadow-art photography. 

Writing a paper. 

More paper-writing

I'm a bit old-fashioned. I write down everything I have to read for a day, then I cross off each thing after I read it. This is the famous pink paper that I've been using since nearly the beginning. 

I could have been in the country, but even though I wasn't, this is a beautiful relaxing area on the Mississippi River. 

I got some guava juice for the first and last time. It was made in Egypt, and it really isn't bad, but not as good as...

Champagne!! I seem to gravitate toward this delicious type of soda. This one was made in Jamaica, but it's very similar to the Fruit Champagne in Haiti. 

Well, what an assortment of pictures and stories. (A little lighter than my last post: I'm sure we can all agree!)

Happy Sunday!

Waiting and Fighting

In April, 2014, I went to Haiti for the first time, and little did I know how it would change my life from then on. When I went the second time the following year, I began to think of the possibility of actually living in the country. However, the next year, I was not able to join the team in April. I still wanted to go back, but I didn't know if I would. Finally, earlier this year, I had strong inclinations to go back one last time. I was able to join the team and speak at the women's conference.

My first idea of this past trip was that it would probably be my last. I was super excited, but I was also going with a newer perspective: (1) that this would likely be my last time at least for a while, and (2) I wanted it to count for the Gospel of Christ. I wanted Haitians to be changed, and I wanted myself to be changed.

I ended up getting sick and being rather miserable for one day. Then I heard the "devastating" news that we would be spending two nights at a church in the country. This literally was terrifying news for me. I know, I grew up in the country and I love simplicity, but I was worried. I had just been sick, and I could imagine getting sick again. I thought of all the worst things that could happen. I imagined the unsanitation; I was not looking forward to this "adventure." But before I left that place, I was hooked.

The experience changed my life. I didn't want to say bye. I had made friends, I had lived with the people, had eaten with them, worshiped with them. I wanted to teach the children of the church and surrounding area about God and how they could live for Him instead of the pleasures of this world.

I had a hard time transitioning back into American life. Harder than usual. This brings me to my point in this post. I still haven't transitioned, not completely.

It's been over 5 months since I went to Haiti, and I still miss it, still wish I was there just about every day. I do believe God has called me there. I have rarely felt such a longing for something like this. I really want to go back, but I'm not back. I'm here, in the states, in Minnesota. I'm a college student, and I'm waiting.

I'm waiting, hopefully patiently, but I'm afraid often not. I know God's plans are better than mine. His timing is perfect, truly. In the end, if and when I do go back to Haiti, the waiting will have made it so much more of a gem. I will also have had more experiences and growth. So I have to fight.

I have to fight my self. My impatience, pride, desires, and wishes ; I must fight back by the strength of my Saviour. He has put me here, now, for His purposes, not mine.

So I wait, but I fight.

Yet there's joy!

Another Party

I don't think I've actually told you about all the parties I've been a part of, but the number is steadily increasing.

Last Friday, our freshmen class was invited to my cohort leader's house for dinner. It was a lot of fun, to get to know his family and just hang out with everyone.

Hanging out by the fire.

CJ and Tommy.

CJ, Tommy, and Jesse

Professor H. with some of his kids.

Life

Life from the Father

Life He has given to us

Life of Jesus the Son

Life of Himself

Life to death

Life again

Life we live

Life He gave

Life we own

Life to love

One Rainy Day

One day it was really nice out. It was a beautiful, warm day. One to make you smile, one to give you cheer. It was great.

But then...

Then came some wind, fierce and strong. The clouds began to cover the landscape in a dark, gray cape. Like a ghostly old blanket, flying through the September sky.

Then rain fell.

It suddenly became a cozy day. A beans-in-the-crockpot, tea-drinking, cuddly kind of day.

The blanket has been tossed across the sky

The trees blow about in the wind.

The piano beckons to be played in the cool dimness. 

The 4-plex wears a solemn expression as the storm descends.

Last glimmers of light to the east.

The pantry holds an unusual stillness. 

From the basement window. 

A drop of rain hits the pain. 

More are quick to follow. 

Until the window is drenched in the watery substance. 

Cooking-beans fill the room with an unforgettable aroma. 

And just as quickly, the sun swirls about in light, casting its glimmer onto the shimmering road below. 

Puddles reflect what they're meant to reflect. We should reflect what we're meant to: Jesus. 

Just another storm in the life of a reflector.