Project 31 Day 25: Post a pic of your favorite comfy clothes

You know, I have so few pictures of me by myself, especially since Addie was born. I tend to shy away from the camera, so I guess it shouldn't be surprising. I don't feel at ease in front of it like some people do. I feel on the spot, under the microscope, and just generally exposed. 

I did find two pictures to share, though. The first is of me on our honeymoon, wearing a ball cap, layered t-shirts and my favorite jeans (the ones I talked about in previous posts). I loved this outfit because it was comfortable, but presentable. I always feel laid back and ready for whatever the day throws at me when I wear a ball cap like this.

 
This next picture is more recent, however. It's me in all my "morning glory"--unshowered, hair a mess, and in my old SJSU sweatshirt. I'm sure I'm wearing gray sweatpants, too, but I can't quite tell. She, however, is super cute, as always. What I love best about her outfit is that it is not only cute, it's very comfortable. Knit fabric. Stretch pants. She has no idea she's such a cutie in it--all she knows is that she feels like she's wearing jammies.

Lately I have been trying to reconcile my own need for comfort with wearing clothes that make me feel cute. It's a hard balance to strike when I don't have money stashed somewhere to go blow on a whole new wardrobe. I've been able to get a few things here and there, which is awesome, but I still gravitate toward my "tried and true" things that I know aren't doing me any favors, if you know what I mean. They're easy, I'm just at home, and they're comfortable.

But what is it about an old sweatshirt that brings comfort? Sure, the fabric is warm, soft, cozy, and makes me comfortable in some ways, but it makes me uncomfortable in other ways. I don't feel good about myself when I wear them. I feel frumpy, like I've "let myself go," like I'm someone who just sort of gave up on my appearance. And feeling like that is uncomfortable. I know that's not the truth, but it's how I feel. And yet, when I feel like that, all I want to do is just curl up in my sweatshirt because it somehow comforts me. Weird cycle, I know.

Sometimes I come really close to getting rid of the sweatshirt. But I can't seem to bring myself to do it. Why not?

(No seriously, I'm asking.)

Maybe I'm making too much of this. Maybe it doesn't really matter at all. Maybe wearing a ratty sweatshirt and old sweatpants doesn't make one bit of difference. But maybe it does. Does it have an adverse effect on how I see myself, how I feel about myself? Does it change the way my husband sees me? (Probably not at the heart of how he feels, but I'd venture a guess that a baggy, old sweatshirt doesn't do him any favors, either.)

If my self image were thriving and healthy, would it make me feel better about wearing a baggy sweatshirt? Or would I still feel frumpy and unattractive? Or if it were a new sweatshirt, would that change things?

Something to think about.

Does anyone else have something like my SJSU sweatshirt that you just can't seem to get rid of? Am I the only one?

Gingered Chicken with Sugar Snap Peas

The sugar snap peas we got at the Farmers' Market last week were the plumpest, most beautiful snap peas I've ever seen, and they paired beautifully with the fresh ginger we bought that same day. Inspired to make healthy homemade Chinese "takeout," I served it with steamed edamame and a recipe for bok choy that turned out to be a flop (truly--Joey said it was one of the few things I've made that he didn't like, which he said was a compliment. I took it as such, because I agreed with him--it was terrible.)

Anyhow, this recipe should prove that homemade Chinese food can be made just as fast as ordering takeout. Plus, it's a much healthier version (and even tastier, if you ask me) than what you can find in the restaurants.

Gingered Chicken with Sugar Snap Peas

Ingredients:
A drizzle of olive oil
2 lbs sugar snap peas
4 chicken breasts, cut into 1" cubes
1 1/2-2 inches of fresh ginger, peeled
4 large garlic cloves
salt & pepper
Sriracha to taste

Method:
Heat a large skillet on medium high heat. Drizzle a bit of olive oil and add the chicken. Let brown on one side; as it's cooking, crush the garlic into the pan, grate the ginger over the chicken, and sprinkle with salt and pepper. When the chicken is golden on one side, flip the pieces over, toss a bit, and continue to cook. It's ok if there are golden bits of chicken stuck to the pan.

Add the sugar snap peas; deglaze the pan with some water (a couple of tablespoons' worth). Give it a good toss; cook until the snap peas turn bright green and are as tender as you prefer them. I cooked mine for about 5-7 minutes or so.

Toss with Sriracha, as much or as little as you like. (Watch out--it's spicy, so be careful!)

Blue Cheese and Cranberry Stuffed Chicken Breasts

Sometimes, chicken bores me.

I like it. It's good. Joey loves it. We eat a lot of it. But sometimes I sort of think cooking it is a drag.

Last Saturday night I got a little fancy with the chicken because I didn't want to fall into the "let's just grill it" trap. Grilling is great. I love grilling. But sometimes I get bored with it. Sorry, but it's true.

I opened up the fridge and was inspired by a package of cranberry blue cheese that hadn't been used yet. There was spinach and red onion around too, so I thought a stuffed chicken breast might make a nice Saturday night dinner. It was very, very easy, so don't let the "stuffed" part of the recipe make you think it's terribly hard or complicated. It's not. So easy, anyone could do it. Plus, it's fancy enough to serve for a fancy get together, but easy enough to serve on a quiet Saturday evening at home.

I don't have pictures of this one, but rest assured that it is terribly good. If you don't have cranberry blue cheese, just use regular blue cheese and stuff a few cranberries in the chicken along with the cheese crumbles. I don't think it'd be much different. Also, I don't really have measurements for this one because you don't really need them. Just use as much of the fillings as you can get into the breast and still pin it closed with a toothpick or two.

Ingredients:
3 large chicken breasts, cut in half and split open
cranberry blue cheese crumbles
spinach
red onion, thinly sliced
salt & pepper
onion powder
plum jam

Method:
Slice open the chicken breast halves so that you have a nice flat piece of meat. Lay a few spinach leaves on top of the whole breast. Toss on a few slices of red onion, then top with cheese crumbles. Fold chicken over itself so that you sort of have a raw chicken sandwich (raw chicken on two sides, filling on the inside). Pull the chicken close to itself so that it seals the filling inside. This won't be perfect--some pieces will work better than others, so just do the best you can. Secure with a toothpick or two, and place in a greased casserole dish. Sprinkle with salt, pepper and onion powder.

Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes-1 hour. Brush plum jam on top of the chicken pieces when there's about 15 minutes left to go. The jam should carmelize a bit and make the tops look just lovely.

I served this with mashed sweet potatoes a simple salad of red leaf lettuce, cranberries, pecans and balsalmic vinegar dressing, but it would pair nicely with a variety of things, I'm sure.

Roasted Beet Salad with Chicken and Feta

Beets. I admit they didn't make my heart swoon before now. In fact, I didn't even try them before a couple of years ago. But I've always been intrigued by them because their color is just so beautiful. They look like rubies or garnets, what with their deep, beautiful reddish color.

Completely at a loss for how to cook them, though, I turned to my trusty Whole Foods App for inspiration, and this is what I came up with: Roasted Beet Salad. So pretty. So yummy. So easy. And I used three ingredients from the Farmers' Market--beets, red leaf lettuce, and red onion.

Ingredients:
1 1/2 lb. baby beets
2 T red onion, finely chopped
6 T lemon juice
1 tsp. yellow mustard
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
1 tsp. sugar
salt & pepper to taste
1 head red leaf lettuce, washed & chopped
1/2 cup pecans (or more, if you like more. You could even use almonds or walnuts if you prefer.)
feta cheese, to taste (I used about 1/2 a standard size container)
2 chicken breasts, cooked and cubed

Method:
Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Remove the stems from the beets; wash thoroughly. Place on a parchment lined cookie sheet and roast in the oven for about an hour.
  
Check them by puncturing them with a fork--they should be nice & soft, but not mushy. Don't be put off by the oozing red mess that comes out of them. Remove from oven and let cool completely, and don't be put off by the way they turn gray and terribly gross-looking. After you peel them, they'll be beautiful.

When they're cool, put on some plastic gloves to protect your hands from being stained by these little rubies. Remove the skin and cube the beets. Set aside.


For the dressing, combine onion, lemon juice, mustard, sugar, and oil and salt and pepper in a little blender and blend until emulsified. If you don't have a little blender, you can whisk it by hand, but add the oil after you've already combined the first four ingredients, and add it slowly as you whisk.

Toss together lettuce, beets, cheese, and dressing until everything is lightly coated, then top with pecans. The beets will turn the cheese a slight shade of pink, but don't worry--it's so yummy you'll forgive it for being a strange color.

(Also, I would be remiss if I did not forewarn others of what we experienced after eating this salad. I will try to warn you as tactfully as I can... The brilliance of the beets' color filters through the human body and can be startling if you aren't aware of it. Be forewarned--nothing's wrong with you, the beets just pack quite a colorful punch!)

It's easy to keep me happy.

I've been pestering Joey to go with me to the farmer's market for, well, as long as we've been married. He's gone with me a few times, but I think I could happily go every week. Plus, we live very close to one that's open on Saturday mornings; this particular one is also just around the corner from a favorite local coffee house. Getting up early, grabbing steaming hot coffee and strolling over to the farmer's market is something I actually dreamed about. (It's pretty easy to keep me happy.)

Anyway, since Addie arrived, getting out the door in time to get there before they close for the day made it challenging. Then the rainy weather set in, and then we got busy, and then, low and behold, we were free one Saturday morning. So off to the market we went. And we're so glad we did.

We spent about $40 there and got all sorts of goodies: beets, turnips, strawberries, baby bok choy, red onions, sugar snap peas, cilantro, ginger, red leaf lettuce, green leaf lettuce, sweet potatoes, 2 bags of kettle corn (one for us, one for my dad) and a bouquet of flowers for my mom. A successful trip indeed. Made me want to squeal, I was so happy.

But I worried once we got it all home. Would we actually use it all before it went bad? Confession: veggies have been known to go bad around here from lack of timely use. I bet that's happened to you too, right? They're purchased with the best of intentions to actually eat them, but for some reason, far too many of them end up in the trash.

So I resolved to use them. All of them. And I did--and my efforts yielded de-lish results. It was so much fun, and I think Joey would attest to the fact that last week we ate really well. I realize now that I should have taken pictures of it all to help prove to you that what we ate was far from boring, and was both beautiful and really yummy. Oh well. You'll just have to trust me. Or better yet, make the recipes and see for yourself!


My mom was so impressed with the food that she asked me to write the recipes down so we can make them again. What better place to do so than here? Stay tuned--they'll be up soon :)

The Great Baby Food Experiment

Shocked. Dismayed. Encouraged. Excited. All of these words describe my recent experience with baby food.

I should begin the story by saying that I've always wanted to make my own baby food. I mean, how hard could it be? But when it was time to start having Addie try solids, I sort of felt overwhelmed by it all. I mean, how in the world would I know what to make for her? And, why would I want to go to all that trouble making the stuff for her to just refuse it? (Irrational. I know. But it's where my mind was going a few weeks ago.)

So, to quell my irrationality, we decided to just buy a few jars of organic baby food to get her taste buds working, see what she liked, and then take it from there. So off to the store I went. And when I got there, I was shocked at the price for those teensy tiny little jars, and I was dismayed at the additives in even some of the organic foods. Paying nearly a whole dollar for ONE jar of food was just--silly. I mean, there's hardly anything in to those things. Begrudgingly, I bought a few jars, walked out of the store with a new resolve to make it at home myself.

Eventually, Addie started to really take to the food. Sweet potatoes and pears were particular favorites. Last weekend while we were at the farmer's market, I grabbed some sweet potatoes--$3.80 worth. A couple days later, I steamed half of them and made over a dozen jars' worth of baby food. For $1.90. Not to mention that Addie loved them (which to my affirmation-junkie heart is priceless).

But in the scheme of things, sweet potatoes are inexpensive, and organic fruit is a bit more pricey. While I was picking out organic pears from Trader Joe's a few days later, I wondered if I'd end up saving much money at all. I mean, one pear was $.69, and one jar of Earth's Best Organic Pears was just on sale at Target for $.70. After it cooked down, would one pear yield more than a jar's worth of food? I decided to experiment, so I bought two. Here they are (aren't they pretty?).

Then, I peeled them, cut them up, and put them into a pan to steam. Then, I left them alone for awhile.

When I came back, they were incredibly soft and ready to puree. So I threw them into my food processor, added a bit of the leftover steaming water, and left them alone again. When I tasted them, they were a bit grainy. So, I turned the machine back on and left them alone yet again. When I came back, they were perfect. I mean, perfect (even though you can't exactly tell that by looking at this picture...). Now the question was, would Addie eat them?

The answer? Yes. She did eat them, and she loved them. And those two pears yielded over twice what was in two little jars of Earth's Best Organic Pears. Nearly tripled, really. So for the equivalent of 6 jars of food, which in the store, on sale, would have been $4.20, I paid $1.40. Talk about feeling encouraged!


So there you have it--my experiment with baby food. I know jars are more convenient, and I know some of the organic foods are good foods for Addie, but why wouldn't I make homemade babyfood from now on? It's SO easy. It takes far less time than one imagines, and really, the effort it takes to make it can hardly be called work at all.

Do any of you make your own baby food? If so, do you have any tips? Suggestions?

Project 31 Day 24: What is Jesus teaching you presently?

Sometimes I sit and stare at her, this little girl of mine, and there are moments in which the importance of whatever I'm doing diminishes when I'm confronted with the innocence of her beauty. While going through the motions of changing a diaper or wiping her nose or putting socks on cold feet, my eyes suddenly smart, and tears come seemingly out of nowhere because I'm overcome with love for her.

In these moments, I hear Him whispering to me, teaching me about the purest, truest kind of love there is: His love. For me.

There's something about the pure love of Jesus that just never quite made sense to me until Adeline came along. Just like she didn't have to do anything to earn my love, so I don't have to do anything to earn His love. He loves me because, well, He can't not love me, just like I can't not love my little Addie.

And more than that, He loves Addie even more than I love her.

However much I love this sweet little girl of mine, I'm learning that his heart for me is bigger than my heart is for her. An impossible truth, it seems, and yet, He has been using the love I have for my daughter to tell me, "This is how I see you. The way you love Addie? That's how I love you. Just as you love her simply because she's her, I love you simply because you're you. Everything about you arrests my heart and makes me stop to catch my breath."

It's amazing, His love. Over and over, daily, He reminds me.

A Recipe for Peace

Not too long ago, I found myself sitting in the school library, at work earlier than I normally come in, resting my swollen feet behind the librarian's desk as I watched my boss present college information to dozens of junior highers. I was there because it was my job to be there, but to be very honest, my heart wasn't there. I did my best to have a good attitude, but I'll be honest--I was very pregnant, very tired, and very ready to complain about lots of things.

As I sat there thinking about all the things that I was frustrated about, I realized I was distinctly lacking peace--about all sorts of things. There were so many areas of my life that lacked the calm assurance that comes with surrendering ourselves and trusting our lives into the hands of God. Don't get me wrong--deep down, I knew he was taking care of me, but do you ever just feel like you're drowning in a sea of "Me"? Like you try to focus on the things above, but you just can't? (Or perhaps, just won't, prefering to set up camp in a place where you can be selfish for a little bit?)

While I was sitting there, a little too focused on myself, my eyes drifted over to a list the librarian had posted on her desk; it was in a place where she could see it all the time, every time she needed a little encouragement (or a swift kick in the pants, perhaps, like I did).

I had never seen this list before, but it resonated with me on a deep level, so I grabbed a pen and copied it. I took it with me, and it eventually got buried beneath a pile of papers on my desk. I forgot about it, went on maternitiy leave, and only just found it now as I was sorting through some things in my office. The funny thing is, I needed the reminder again today.

I tried very hard to find the original author of this list, but I don't know where it came from, so I can't give credit where credit is due. I wish I could. I'm posting it anyway because I'm sure you will find a thing or two in the list that resonates with what you're struggling with at the moment, too.

Recipe for a Peace-Filled Life

1. Take a 10-30 minute walk or run everyday. And while you walk, smile. It is the ultimate antidepressant.

2. Sit in silence for at least 10 minutes each day. Talk to God about what is going on in your life. (Buy a lock if you have to.)

3. When you wake up in the morning, complete the following statement: “My purpose is to __________ today. I am thankful for __________.”

4. Eat more foods that grow on plants and eat fewer foods that are manufactured in plants.

5. Drink tea and plenty of water. Eat blueberries, wild Alaskan salmon, broccoli, almonds and walnuts.

6. Try to make at least three people smile each day.

7. Don’t waste your precious energy on gossip, energy vampires, issues of the past, negative thoughts or things you cannot control. Instead, invest your energy in the positive, present moment.

8. Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince, and dinner like a college kid with a maxed out credit card.

9. Remember that even though life isn’t fair, it’s still good.

10. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.

11. Don’t take yourself too seriously. (No one else does.)

12. You are not so important that you have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.

13. Make peace with your past so it won’t spoil the present.

14. Don’t compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.

15. No one is in charge of your happiness except you.

16. Frame every so-called disaster with these words, “In five years, will this matter?”

17. Forgive everyone. For everything.

18. What other people think of you is none of your business.

19. God heals everything—but you have to ask Him.

20. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.

21. Your job won’t take care of you when you are sick. Your friends will. Stay in touch.

22. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.

23. Each night before you go to bed, complete the following statements: “I am thankful for ________. Today I accomplished __________.”

24. Remember that you are too blessed to be stressed.

25. When you are feeling down, start listing your many blessings. You’ll be smiling before you know it.

Mac & Trees

Remember how just yesterday I said that friends who have been asking me for recipes would finally have a place to find them? Well, wouldn't you know that today a friend asked me for my recipe for Mac & Trees just a few minutes ago, so I figured I should make good on my promise and add it to my list here! It's a yummy recipe for Macaroni & Cheese with Broccoli that I love, and I think you might too.

I wish I could take credit and say I was clever enough to come up with the recipe completely on my own, but alas, I cannot. I did, however, blend two recipes into this particular version of Mac & Trees. Laura at Heavenly Homemakers has a recipe for Creamy Mac & Cheese that is awesome. Having already tried (and loved) her recipe a few times, I was inspired to combine it with the Whole Foods’ recipe for Macaroni & Trees (that I found on my awesome Whole Foods App. There are tons of great recipes there! I find that I use it for inspiration all the time! Highly recommend it. But I digress.)

The recipe below is lower in fat than either of the originals, as I used skim milk. I also added a bit of butter to help make things a bit more creamy so if you use a different kind of milk, you might want to omit the butter, but that’s your call. It also works fine with regular pasta, but as Laura points out, not brown rice pasta.

Mac & Trees

Ingredients:

4 cups broccoli florets
2 1/2 cups whole wheat pasta
3 cups skim milk
1 T butter
1/2 t. kosher salt (or 1 t. table salt)
2 cups shredded cheese (divided into two 1-cup portions)

Method:

Cook the broccoli until crisp-tender (whatever method you like best for cooking broccoli. I typically microwave them for two minutes, then one additional minute until done). Set aside.

Put the pasta, milk and salt in a large sauce pan. Cook over medium-high heat, stirring all the while. Do this until the pasta is tender. It will seem as if it’s not doing anything for the first several minutes. Do not despair! It will almost suddenly start to boil. Keep cooking until the pasta is tender (takes about 10 minutes or so). Remove from the heat. Add 1 cup of the cheese and stir until melted and completely absorbed. Pour into a greased 9 ½ x 11 baking pan. Place broccoli on top, and sprinkle with the remaining cheese. Put under the broiler for a few minutes, watching closely so it doesn’t burn. You’re just looking for the cheese to be melted over the top. When it's melted, and is as crispy (or not) as you like it, take it out, let it sit for a minute, and serve.

From Scratch

My husband calls me Scratch, a nickname that I really hated when he first came up with it. It didn't sound romantic or sweet or anything close to what I thought a husband should call a wife. Plus, it just sounded, well, weird when he'd call me Scratch. In those early days, I protested, but he persisted. Scratch stuck, and eventually, the name became worn in and began to fit me, much like a good pair of jeans. (If you're curious about where the name came from and how I eventually came to accept it, read this.) I wear the name well now, and to be honest, I realized that it echoes something that I like about myself.

I am committed to live intentionally, to being mindful of what I consume and why I consume it, and to honoring God in even the most basic choices I make every day. Making things from scratch is a big part of living out that commitment. In fact, doing so comes naturally to me. In the kitchen, I far prefer tossing together fresh ingredients to opening up a box or ordering take out. Things that are handmade make me feel like the world is actually quite a lovely place after all, as are the people whose hands and heart took the time to craft something beautiful, often out of seemingly nothing. Reminds me of our Creator. Isn't that what He did?

I'm not an expert, and I'm certainly still learning to be more intentional, more mindful, and more God-honoring. But I am full of desire: to do better, to learn more, to share what I learn, and to inspire and encourage others to do the same.

If you're so inclined, feel free to peruse my From Scratch page for recipes and other tidbits I discover in the learning process!

PS--Be forewarned: it's pretty bare at the moment. I've just gone ahead and listed some of the things I've posted about here before, but there are more things coming. Like I said: it's a process! But for those of you who have been asking me for recipes for, well, almost as long as I've known you? This page will, eventually, be full of the recipes you so desire, along with more as I experiment and learn. Promise!

Project 31 Day 23: What are your strengths? What are your weaknesses?

Eek. I used to really hate this question. I mean, hate it. I've had to answer it so many times over the course of my adult life, and nearly every time I've thought to myself, "What in the world am I good at?" I've lived a lot of my life feeling inferior, as if I only have weaknesses, but not any strengths. Thankfully, I'm not in that place anymore. I've woken up to the invigorating truth that there actually are things I'm good at, shock of all shocks.

The funny thing about strengths and weaknesses is that often, they're almost one in the same. Either that, or very very closely related. This is the experience of my life, at least. Perhaps all strengths can slyly become a weakness if not kept in check? Is this just my own experience?

Anyway, here is my list of strengths, intertwined with my weaknesses.

1. I'm responsible, sometimes to a fault. Being motivated by my sense of responsibility can turn into being motivated by guilt if I'm not careful.

2. I have grace for people, but can sometimes let people off the hook for things for which they really should be held accountable.

3. I communicate best when I'm able to write things out. I express myself best that way. But I can use the written word as a crutch when I should boldly use my audible voice to say what needs to be said. Confrontation, along with talking in front of many people, isn't my strong suit, but using the written word has been a shield behind which I've hidden, thinking I'll be protected, when in reality, it sometimes just isn't the best way to communicate something.

4. I'm a good cook. I know how to make things work in the kitchen. I can make something out of seemingly nothing, intuitively knowing how to meld ingredients together to create something fantastic. It's one of the areas of my life where I'm the most confident. However, knowing that I'm generally a good cook, I still apologize for my food. What's that about? Insecurity. I'm completely insecure about it, even though I know I'm good at it. Why? Because I make mistakes. And I hate making mistakes.

5. I like to do things well, so much so that I've been called a perfectionist. Doing something right, producing something of quality and being proud of my handiwork is something that's important to me. Of course, this verges on perfectionism, which isn't really a strength, is it? Plus, I don't take criticism very well. Even though I appreaciate knowing when I'm not doing something right or doing something well, I often feel defeated when I receive even the most useful piece of constructive criticism, like I shouldn't give it another try because I'm just not good at whatever it is I messed up on. Vicious cycle.

I'm sure there are more. There are probably innumerable things that I could list here, if I took the time to continue listing them. But I think that these five things are the biggies.

Looking at this list, I realize that life is a process. Just because these are the things I struggle with right now does not mean I have to struggle with them always. Knowing my weaknesses gives me the freedom to pursue change in those areas. It's a process, yes, one that will take intentional effort. But won't it be worth it? To have my strengths truly be strengths, independent of the weaknesses that currently come along with them?

Almost sounds too good to be true. But I think that it actually is. True, I mean.

Thoughts?

Project 31 Day 22: What are some needs that need to be met in your community? Blog about how to extend your hand to those who need you.

A couple of years ago it occurred to me that people around here don't really look at each other much anymore. (And I admit that I caught myself being guilty of this, too.) In the grocery store, in line at the bank, walking in the park--wherever--people just sort of avoid each other. Avert their eyes. Distract themselves with their cell phones. Act really interested in something they see on the other side of the walkway so that they turn their heads away from you. Or even worse, seem to stare right through you as you pass by, not even acknowledging that anyone else is there.


I noticed it more profoundly when I would travel away from the Bay Area and would see people acting familiar with each other even when they hadn't met before. It made me long to live in a place where people were kind to each other, interacted with each other, made other people feel--seen.


I began to hate the way it made me feel when no one smiled at me when I was out and about. Then, I started hating the way it must make others feel. And then, I decided to do something about it. I decided to take a risk and smile at people. 


Shock, I know.


Seriously though. I did. I started smiling at people. I must have looked so silly to them or to other people who happened to see me, this girl who flashed a gaping grin to complete strangers. Most of the time, people ignored me. And at first, it hurt me. I felt silly for trying to do something that was out of the ordinary, and rejected by people I didn't even know. Sometimes they didn't ignore me though--sometimes they just looked at me funny, obviously confused by the fact that someone was breaking a social norm. But once in awhile, every so often, I'd get a smile in return. Fleeting. Momentary. Half-hearted, sometimes, or even obligatory. But it would happen, and I felt compelled to keep smiling, for no other reason than it just felt like the right thing to do. 


So I kept smiling. Whether I was checking out books at the library, waving to another car to let them have the right-of-way, or in line at Target, I kept smiling. Whenever there was someone to smile at, I did it. At first, it was a choice, but pretty soon, it became second nature.More and more now, I find people are smiling back. Some are shy, some are shocked, and some see it as an open door for conversation. This scared me. Smiling at strangers is one thing; carrying on a conversation with them is another. But I did it. I did it scared. 


Every so often, someone will comment on my smile, telling me I have one of the warmest ones they've ever seen. Or they'll tell me that I look like I'm filled with joy. Or they'll tell me their life story, or they will ask me for help--from the very simple, "Can you help me reach that box of cereal on the top shelf there?" to the more complicated, "I need help so I can feed my daughter." The more I think about it, the more I believe that a smile is an invitation to more. It communicates, "I see you,"  "You matter." and "I am safe." 


Not so long ago I was walking into a Starbucks to get my free birthday beverage and I saw a young guy sitting on a bench just outside. He had a pack with him, and what appeared to be a sleeping bag, and he looked like he was having a hard day. So I smiled at him as I started to get closer to the bench, and as our eyes met, he asked me for help. Anything I could spare, he asked for. I pulled out some money, asking him how he was and if I could buy him a cup of coffee as I did so. He talked about how he'd never had coffee before that day, but that someone had just bought some for him, and he talked about how he was doing ok, but not great. He didn't seem to want to talk much more, so I handed him what I had and bid him a good day, smiling as I did so. When I got inside, there was a woman at the counter looking at me, a look of astonishment on her face. "That was really nice, what you did. What made you do that?" I smiled at her and said, "I just try to do what I think Jesus would do." We had a long conversation that morning, one in which she kept coming back to how she couldn't believe what she had seen.


So why do I smile? Not because it will affect major change in the lives of multitudes, but because I just try to do what I think Jesus would do, and treating people with dignity is one of those things. 


I haven't changed the world, but I do believe that if more people smiled at each other, the world wouldn't be so pent up with anger or angst. There would be welcome release, a safe place to fall, and an easy way to share the love of Jesus with people we don't know. And other people notice this. They see that there's something different about us. It impresses them. It compels them. I've witnessed this firsthand.


Smile on.

Project 31 Day 21. Write a letter to your husband to encourage him (or if you are single- your future husband.)

Long days, short nights. Another working day comes, and there's always another patient to see. And meetings. And presentations. And maybe extra hours of overtime. Then commuting, and at home, there are baths. And bills. Tack on top of that the pile of laundry that seems to never quite go away, dishes left undone, diaper pails to empty, and teeth to brush. Not to mention, you know, spending time together. When did life get so busy? Do you ever find it hard to breathe?

Joey, you just might be the hardest worker I’ve ever known. You see needs and take action. You don’t stop when you’re tired. You don’t take the easy way out. You fight long and hard for what’s right. You make concessions when necessary. You choose to believe deep in a central part of you that money isn’t really all that important, really. A tool, yes, one that you need to make your way in the world. But at the end of the day, it’s just money. It’s not happiness.

For you, happiness can be found in the strum of a guitar, in the mystery of paint on canvas, on a lung-piercing trek through the mountains, in the wonder of the night sky, in the laughter that a well-timed joke elicits, in the face of your baby girl, in the precious time spent together.

You are more than what your daily schedule says about you. You are Artist. Deep thinker. Lifetime learner. Hard worker. Safe place. Comedian. Provider. Lover. Helper. Protector. Father. Man after God’s heart.

Remember that even though what you do is important, it’s who you are, underneath all of those labels, that matters. To me. To Addie. To the Lord. To this world. And who you are is good.

You are one-of-a-kind, and I like it that way. I am so proud to be your wife.