the books i read this summer

I'm not a voracious reader, but I'm usually into one book or another at any given time. Sometimes it takes me weeks to get through one; sometimes I can knock out one pretty quickly.

Summers tend to be heavier reading months for me, though, and my Kindle has been getting some good use at the gym of late. Here are the reads that have kept me engaged for the past few months:

the light between oceans // Admittedly, it took me a couple of starts to finally become immersed, but once I did, there was no going back. It's a unique story of one couple's unexpected journey to parenthood, and their decisions along the way that are gut-wrenching and raw. I loved these imperfect characters, and the story is so well crafted. A beautiful novel.

gone girl // I could have done without the foul language, but this was a fantastic psychological thriller for my beach vacation reading. A complex mystery narrated by a missing wife and the golden-boy husband, it is a brilliant reminder that there are always two sides to every story.

the engagements // My sister in law got me hooked on J. Courtney Sullivan, who I find particularly talented at character development. Presented as an overlay to the history of diamonds and the De Beers marketing campaign that we all know and love, the lives and marriages of these characters weave together in surprising ways over the course of nearly a century.

love does // Bob Goff is this book's author, and he is in essence my polar opposite. He is a risk-taker, a dreamer, and unabashed in elaborate expressions of love for other people. His stories of showing people the love of Jesus challenged me to the point of discomfort. Give this one a chance, though -- he's wild.

beyond ordinary // I've done a lot of reading and meditating over the past year or so on marriage; I don't know why. This book is the memoir of a couple whose marriage went through the wringer, in a hard, hard way. It was a heart-breaking story, but glory to God, redemption is possible and this couple is on a mission to break down unhealthy marital misconceptions.

bread & wine // I'm not finished with this one; its pace is relaxed and easy, to the point where I quite enjoy reading a few essays and recipes at a time, when the mood strikes. This is a perfect read for folks like me who love food, family, friendships and the magic that happens when you put all of those things together around a dinner table.

the secret thoughts of an unlikely convert // This is another one I've not yet completed, but it's a fascinating memoir of an English professor's path from atheism to salvation in Jesus. I love that she describes her conversion as more like a train wreck -- wild, traumatic and jolting -- rather than the neat and tidy "sinner's prayer" that today's church advertises. Her candor is refreshing and honest.

sweet water// My last "in-progress" read, this novel follows a struggling artist from New York back to Sweet Water, Tennessee, when she inherits land from her deceased grandfather. A mystery has yet to unfold, so I'll report back when this one's a wrap.

What books has your nose been in this summer? Let's hear them!

thankful thursday #145

This week, well.

This week has been kind, except for that little air conditioning problem that's trying to steal my joy (thumbs down):

It's been the calm before the proverbial storm, which for me is the next fourteen weeks of busy.

It's been a little bit lazy as I've taken a short break from the 5:30 a.m. runs.

It's been some U.S. Open tennis late at night, and some SEC football.

It's been the start to a couple of new books.

It's been a biblical epiphany, or two.

And it started with a final-free-weekend trip here:



And so this week, well.

Gratitude-worthy, I'd say.

Has your week given you something to appreciate? I bet it has. Go on, be grateful!

some honesty about a 13.1

Recently I ran my third half marathon.

I average one of these every two years, because it takes me about that long to forget the awfulness I feel after running 13.1 miles.

I'm not crazy-strict about a race training schedule, and goodness knows, I don't aim for speed. My goal is not unreasonable; it's usually to complete the race, preferably with no walking.

At the core, the race is usually just an extreme measure to keep my heart at a respectable level of fitness.

In other words, there is no real over-achieving happening here.

God bless you serious runners who are fast, who never deviate from however-many-miles-a-week training schedules, and who feel energized after running 13.1 or 26.2 or 100 miles. I can't relate.

I had trained well (for me), and felt reasonably confident. I thought it a good sign that the rain stopped, just as I made my way to the starting line, and that the August Georgia heat hit a record low that day. I'd hydrated like a champion all week. And I had an odd bib number.

The stars were aligning. I felt good.

My first nine miles were probably the best consecutive nine I've ever run, but Miles Ten and Eleven are historically my toughest, so mentally I hunkered down for those beasts. And beasts they were, with wicked hills that mocked me.

When my calves began to tighten around Mile Ten, I took some Gu and some Gatorade for a little extra push, and I slipped into my mouth the starlight peppermint that a running expert recommended for a sugar fix. I was sure the cramps would pass.

At Mile 11.5, my right calf tensed, and gripped me so violently that I went airborne and fell to the ground, letting out a screech that I'm certain sounded overdramatic and unnecessary. That muscle did not relax for at least seven minutes. I know it.

I cried on the ground, massaged my calf, and accepted any and all offerings from concerned runners who came to my aid: salt pills (yes, thank you); coconut water (sure, I'll try it); cold bottled water (rub this on your calf); a packet of Gu (espresso flavor sounds horrible but anything is worth trying).

I was humiliated, but in too much pain to care.

Dear, sweet runners offered to sit with me, until medics arrived, but I begged them to keep going, fearing they would sacrifice their own personal bests.

Medics offered to take me off the course and drive me back to the finish, but I couldn't agree to it. I would feel like a much bigger failure than I already did, if I didn't try to keep going.

And I did. But it felt like a walk of shame.

For the last mile and a half, I walked -- no, limped, because I was that pitiful -- and could not contain these thoughts:

I'm so embarrassed to tell my running friends back home about how the race went.

I was literally wailing on the ground. That was mortifying.

I am WALKING the last mile and a half.

This will be my worst time ever.

I didn't meet my goal.

For obvious reasons, the race was a disappointment. And fortunately, I have great encouragers in my corner who make me feel better:

I've never even run a 5k! You should feel great about even training for one of those!

Sometimes it's a bigger accomplishment to finish the race peppered with adversity than it is to just run the smoothest race of your life.

It's all true. But the disappointment still lingers.

Disappointment that I couldn't understand what went wrong. Disappointment that all the preparation seemed like a waste. Disappointment in falling short.

But more than all of that, I was disappointed that even after years of working to accept defeat, and to extend some grace to myself when I fall short -- and I do, God knows I do -- that old demon of perfectionism still creeps into my heart now and again, and fights for a foothold there.

I wish it weren't so; but it is.

As I've reflected over the past couple of weeks, I still feel the residual pangs of disappointment. But it's also been a good reminder that our biggest battles aren't won quickly or easily, and that sometimes, they have to be fought over and over and over again.

We have to keep asking for the ugly parts of us to decrease, so that Jesus and his fullness will increase.

Fortunately, I'm able to laugh at myself while recounting the story to my friends back home. Overdramatic crying; outrageous pain; downing every food, beverage or pill in sight, no matter that they all came from complete strangers. It makes for a good story.

And stories always make for good lessons, when we're willing to learn them.

thankful thursday #144

When you're single, and you live away from your family, you better hope you've got some awesome friends.

I rely on mine to be so many things.

Caretakers.

Encouragers.

Listeners.

Celebrators.

Meal dates.

Travel buddies.

Sounding boards.

Constructive critics.

Crafting partners.

Adventure dreamers.

This week has been all kinds of crazy, and when I reflect on it, I'm thankful for so many friends who step up at exactly the right moment, into precisely the right roles, and make me feel richly loved.

My God is so generous for that. I'm grateful.

Who's been loving you well this week? Go on, be grateful!

the dilemma of the second birthday gift

Yesterday the Little Man turned two, and gifting for a two-year old is not in my wheelhouse.

I told his parents very early on that I would not contribute to the spirit of excess that so easily creeps into the life of a child. Toys that take up a lot of space and cost a lot of money and entertain for 2.2 seconds would not be in my gifting repertoire.

I would be practical: books, clothes (not designer), or anything helpful to his parents. He won't remember these gifts anyway.

This year, his parents' wish-list included "something to keep him occupied or engaged." I searched all over the world wide web, and trust me, there are thousands of toys out there that fall under the "cognitive skill development" category, but honestly, my pride was just too powerful to overcome.

They all appeared just like everyone else's and threatened my reputation as the most creative gift-giver. I couldn't risk giving that one present that really did only entertain for 2.2 seconds. (Did I really say those things out loud? Maybe.)

None of them would do.

One dear friend finally heard my cry and suggested, "Why don't we just make something? It'll be fun."

Famous last words.

After I reconciled the fact that I spent a Friday night struggling through three craft stores to procure my supplies (do craft stores incite anxiety in anyone else?), with the fact that I consider myself to be a cool single girl, I got excited about this crafting venture. Only thanks to my creative friend, though, is this project worthy of sharing.

We started with a piece of canvas -- a 4' square, to be exact -- and a dream.

We envisioned a little town, where Little Man's cars and trucks could travel about. We sketched it out with sidewalk chalk.

Then we got about the business of painting this little town, with basic acrylic paint. It took us awhile to realize that watering down that paint made the coverage go much faster.

(I sure did wear an apron. I know my cool-single-girl-factor continues to abound, but seriously, don't judge.)

About 5 hours later, it started to take some shape.

I loved that we included a church, a school house, a firehouse, a hospital, and the homes of all of Little Man's closest family members.

Then came the all-important, high-impact detail work, which meant buildings got their doors, shutters, and windows, roads got their stripes, and water got its waves.

Have you ever seen such a cute little church?

Nikol, the ultimate artist, put the finishing touches on the playground.

And in the end, 8 hours after we began this project, voila.

I was dang sore the next day from hunching over that play mat. And maybe UGA's football stadium could stand to be bigger than the grandparents' house. (Scaling wasn't the priority, people.) And I owe Nikol something big.

But this was so worth it! We giggled, listened to tunes, and have a very impressive second birthday gift for a special little guy.

I'm hopeful he'll play with this until he goes off to college. But if, God bless us all, he is only entertained with it for 2.2 seconds, maybe his parents will frame it and hang it in his room for all eternity.

That should be enough gratification for this girl.

to carter, on the occasion of your second

Dear Carter Christopher,

You are two! You are growing strong and healthy, and tall. So tall, in fact, that when adults see you in the park, they wonder why you're not delivering monologues, because they assume you're four years old.

You're showing off some personality now, and it's such a special one to watch unfold. You're still curious, you like to be busy, and you enjoy routine. I'm so grateful you still love to laugh. You fake laugh sometimes, which is only kind-of cute, but when you get tickled, that's for-real cute. I can't help but laugh right along with you.

Your words are coming more and more easily, even if they're seemingly made-up. I can't wait to have conversations with you, and find out what's really going on in your head.

You've traveled a good bit! In January you came to visit me for the first time, you've endured some hefty road trips to and from your new home, and you made the long flight to see your dad graduate. You've been to the beach, and you're mostly interested in the expanse of it all, and running every square inch of it. After you've done that, you're ready to call it a day.

In keeping with our birthday tradition, this is what your parents have to say:

I'd describe Carter's personality with these few words:
mom: Curious, friendly, busy.
dad: He is all two-year old BOY.

Carter is happiest when he ...
mom: Realizes that Daddy is home for the day. He runs to the door with a huge smile on his face and throws his arms around him.
dad: Is outside.

Carter is not-so-charming when he ...
mom: Does not get his way and then proceeds to cry, whine, or run away.
dad: Is hot, hungry and tired (like his momma).

My proudest moment as a parent this past year was ...
mom: When he took his first steps and when he learned how to kiss and hug.
dad: The way Carter presented himself at his baptism. Not only did he look like a stud, he acted like one, too.

My un-proudest moment as a parent this past year was ...
mom: When we were touring daycares this summer and we would walk into the classrooms and he would just start dumping toys all over the floor.
dad: Locking him in the house alone while he was sleeping [on accident, for the record].

I laugh out loud when Carter ...
mom: Laughs his big belly laugh.
dad: Says, "Cha-chee" when he sees a fire truck.

After his 2nd birthday I'm most looking forward to ...
mom: More words. He has a lot to say but can't seem to get the words out.
dad: Hearing him put a sentence together.

Of course, we are so thrilled to celebrate you and who you're becoming.

I want you to know on your second birthday, though, that while you continue to grow in stature and cognitive ability and everything else right and good, this has been a year where (gasp) not everything was about you.

It's been my observation that a family's first year of having a firstborn is wildly imbalanced. Parents are learning a new identity, families are redefining their dynamic, and babies are the center of everything. And that's how it should be, for a season. Parents are called to pour themselves into their children, and be fully engaged.

But we aren't meant to function on this earth as its center, and parents have to live out that principle intentionally if their children are going to have even a chance of living a life of selflessness and service.

Your mom and dad want that for you, I know, and fortunately for you, they're working hard to create balance and perspective for you.

This year your mom ran a marathon. Your dad graduated from medical school. While they pursue goals like these, they are modeling for you hard work, dedication, and discipline.

This year the three of you got to move into your very own place, in a new city, when your dad started his job. While your family settles into a new environment, and works to build new friendships there, they are modeling for you the intentionality of investing in people, and in your community.

This year has been a good one for you, but more importantly it's been one of family balancing, and I think that's so important.

So today, Little Man, let me tell you this: Trust me, your folks will always gush over you. And know that I still cry just about every time I leave a visit with you. (I can't help it.) Your grandparents are still crazy over you.

And it's because you're that loved that we desire for you an understanding of how you fit into this world that's much, much bigger than you. I think you see it, too.

We love you to pieces, Little Man. Happy Second.

thankful thursday #143

We are in a season of exciting growth at work.

Overwhelming and anxiety-inducing sometimes, but exciting nonetheless.

With growth means new people, and we've had some stellar folks join our team recently. That's rewarding.

For one newbie in particular, her path to us began over four years ago, when she began meeting contacts who have nothing to do with us directly, but who indirectly led her here. I know our view of God's providential design is limited at best, but when I get to see a little glimpse into how He's working, it really is miraculous.

I'm so thankful today for a bit of insight into how creatively our Lord works!

Have you been given some understanding this week that's worthy of gratitude? Go on, be grateful!

thankful thursday #142

A friend shared with me the new Shane & Shane album a few weeks ago, Bring Your Nothing. Oh my, it is a winner.

They have wicked harmonies, but the lyrics on this one wear me out. Like make me want to weep. In a good way.

I'm so thankful that music has the power to express our hearts to the Lord, when our words sometimes just can't.

You Loved My Heart to Death
Shane & Shane, Bring Your Nothing

It's taken me some time to believe
That when you say it's done
That's what you mean
That when they drove the nails through your hands
You did not recant
You didn't take it back

I drank the cup of death
It's running through my veins
I chose my pride instead
Of the glory of Your name
All the wrath of God that I
Deserve with every breath
Fell upon Him
And He loved my heart to death

It's taken me some time to believe
There'll never come a day
That You'll ever leave
That when I drive the nails through your hands
You do not recant
You never take it back

I drank the cup of death
It's running through my veins
I chose my pride instead
Of the glory of Your name
Oh, the wrath of God that I
Deserve with every breath
Fell upon Him
And He loved my heart to death

You put it in the grave
Brought it back to life
Put it in the grave
Brought it back to life
Put it in the grave
Brought it back to life

I drank the cup of death
It's running through my veins
I chose my pride instead
Of the glory of Your name
Oh, the wrath of God that I
Deserve with every breath
Fell upon Him
And He loved my heart to death

What song makes you appreciate the gift of music this week? Go on, be grateful!

hello monday (a lot of miles)

Monday! Gosh, I never miss you.

But I can still greet you civilly.

------------------------------------

Hello, 13.1.

This is going down in T-12 days.
Lord, be merciful.

------------------------------------

Hello, Cullman.

My friend and I met up there for lunch and shopping this weekend.
This one was a jewel of a store.

------------------------------------

Hello, Toms.

I finally broke down and bought a pair. Trends are only good if they're practical, and
I anticipate putting a lot of miles on them on a certain country next year. Let's hope they live up to the hype.

------------------------------------

Hello, fall scheduling.

It's always such a headache puzzle!

------------------------------------

Hello, rainbow.

I saw this last weekend in Highlands.
It's a good reminder of a special promise.

Monday, no matter the miles I'm looking to run, drive, walk, or fly, I'm ready for you!

thankful thursday #141, the birthday edition

I've spent the past two weeks writing thank-you notes for so many thoughtful birthday gifts.

Like these slippers!

I got a pair for Christmas, and they went missing in a hotel room in March (not amused, Marriott, not amused). These are the birthday replacements. Love them.

And two people (!) sent me flowers.

I could've sent myself flowers, but it's extra-special to get them from other people.

I also got this fun necklace, that doubles as a bracelet when it's wrapped around my wrist a bazillion times.

It comes from Amazima, so when this little gem was purchased, women who once were bound in horrific slavery are empowered to improve their own lives through new jobs, and through spiritual discipleship. It's a win-win.

And I do have funny friends, so a birthday card or two in the mail gave me the giggles.

The inside told me it was "my time to shine." I am not even joking when I tell you there is an eerily similar photo of me, circa 1989, in my parents' home. Time to shine, indeed!

I'm grateful for these tangible gifts, but I'm more grateful for the people who share them freely with me.

What gifts are you appreciating today? Go on, be grateful!