A Minute to Write.

It's been a while since I last wrote.  

I miss it. 

Writing provides a way for me to feel like I've somewhat caught up with the time passed. 

Life has moved very quickly this semester and now, it's nearly over. 

But I want to write. I want to share stories and tales of life here and far away. 

Because its been a very full three months, I haven't taken much time to write and blog. 

It's been too long to withhold the pen from the page. So again, I write. 

The other day, I just needed some fresh air, the twilight, and space to think. I grabbed my journal, a pen, and my camera. I just needed a taste of some sort of adventure. (My spirit craves a spontaneous adventure even now.) These pockets of solitude are good for me. In the midst of a whirlwind, moments of calm come in various forms; taking walks, reading a book, drinking a cup of coffee, enjoying and embracing the still,  cloud watching and highway driving. It comes in observing the big and the small, the high and the low, the magnificent and the simple. It comes in learning to appreciate the quiet. Moments of silence are certainly golden and a peaceful spirit is refreshing. In the midst of busyness, these ought to be sought out. 

So, in search for some silence and peace, here is what the Lord provided me from His hand. 

 

 

It wasn't much, but it was simply just enough. I can't wait for even longer walks to be had. Busyness can be a snare if I let it control, affirm, and determine my success, which is why I took this moment to remind myself that rest is good and necessary. This short and sweet walk allowed me to simply rest in Who God was, is, and forever will be. I truly enjoyed Him. His romance is sweet. These pockets of silence remind me of how beautiful He really is and how desperately I need Him.  

Maybe now it's your turn to take a walk. 

"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High 

will abide in the shadow of the Almighty 

I will say to the LORD, 

“My refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust."

-Psalm 91:1-2

Birds, Blue Skies, and Smiles.

Sometimes you don't always need to speak; sometimes you just need to observe. 

As much as I love to write, there are moments when I simply run out of words. That's when I step back and soak up what I can through a picture here or a memory there; sometimes they alone tell enough. I've written much about home, of which my heart is so full. Whether that be through blogging or just sitting with a journal and pen in hand. This post holds quiet memories that may actually speak louder than what can be written or spoken. Try to absorb the untold. Look into the eyes, not past them. Notice the things which are easily missed. Thoroughly observe and absorb. 

So here's to the silent songs of birds, blue skies, and smiles. 

   

For A Tree.

Tradition, tradition. 

I don't know about you, but in the Loveing household, finding a Christmas tree is quite exciting. 

Every year, we brave the cold in search for the perfect conifer. 

It goes something like this... 

We all bundle up, get in the car and head for the tree farm. 

We wear boots, gloves, scarves, hats, coats, and fuzzy socks.

We're prepared for anything. 

Because we don't just look for a tree, we immerse ourselves in the fun of it all.

  

We talk about what kind we want; how tall, how wide, short pine needles, or long pine needles.

We walk the tree farm until we find just the right one.

But let's be honest, what fun is a Christmas tree hunt without a snowball fight, right?

So let me introduce you to a classic Loveing tradition.

You have to duck, run, and watch your back in the middle of this hilarious madness.

(Especially when you're trying to capture it all through a camera lens.) 

Whether it's getting pelted with snowballs or having snow shoved down your back, the joy of it all is priceless.

It's life-giving for us to play together, laugh together, and for a moment, forget about every other demand in the world. 

As a matter fact, we were having such a good time that we decided to include some passer-bys in on the fun.

(We didn't want them to feel left out.) 

Initially, they were a little caught off guard by the snowballs flying their way, but it made them smile and they quickly joined in for a brief moment of excitement.

And then of course, we all had to take a minute to recover and regain our composure. 

Through this, we made a memory.

We're good at making those.

Our Jewish Grandma Sylvia would've said that it was a purple-hat- kind-of-day. 

That's where you don't care what anyone else thinks and make a memory that will last you a lifetime no matter the cost of crazy; the sky is the limit.  

The fabric of our family is woven by unusual thread. 

It's been said that "Loveings are just different."

A "different" to be proud of.

We're random, spontaneous, and maybe even considered a little mashugana.

(Mashugana; a yiddish term used as an exclamation to describe something as crazy or bizarre.)

But I guess you could say we thrive off of that. 

As we grow up, we're learning how to embrace such things wherever and whenever we can.

We're being taught how to do this and more.

Our brave and beautiful parents are showing us how to love big, live fully, serve unselfishly, dream high, and walk by incredible faith.

(Not to mention, they've shown and taught us what true, ageless love and adorable romance looks like.)

I think they're just precious.    

            

Our tree expedition didn't end there. 

We actually didn't even find our Christmas tree at the farm. 

Plans changed. 

We realized that we all really wanted to find a tree from our woods back at home. 

Surely out of 7,000 options we'd find the right one. 

So it was decided. 

We piled into the car, wet and cold, and headed to the house for another search. 

Eleven years ago, our front yard was corn and soybean fields. 

One year, corn. The next soybean. The same rotation year after year. 

But then Dad and Mom decided to have it all turned back into woods.

So 7,000 trees were planted just at knee high. 

They now tower magnificently overhead. 

Every year we watch them grow just a little bigger and stronger. 

And now we have a lot of forest. 

We walked through the pines keeping our eyes open for a tree that all eight of us could agree on.

It's unbelievable how dense the forest has become. The trees have shot up so close together. 

After literally searching high and low, we finally found our Christmas tree. 

Not too tall, not too wide, and the pine needles were just right.   

We loaded up our tree on the golf cart and took it home. 

All the lights and ornaments were pulled out and hot chocolate was on the stove.

We turned on old family videos and started decorating. 

Each year, we take turns putting the star on the tree and this year, it was Sammy's turn.   

We're not a perfect family.

However, we are perfect for one another.  

We can get irritated and annoyed with each other.

At times we disagree and have to talk through our problems. 

(We're Jews; we talk loud but always love strong in the end.)

Sometimes eight different opinions are happening at once.

We disappoint and get short with one another when desired expectations aren't met.

But here's the thing, we work at loving big and forgiving much.

We realize that God has blessed us with each other and that's a gift that cannot be replaced. 

Each day we wake up in need of abundant grace to love unconditionally, serve willingly, and courageously fight together the sin that so easily entangles us. 

So there you have it; we're just a bunch of raw people who love life, have fun in the midst of it, and savor every moment we have together. Whether that means having a snowball fight at a Christmas tree farm, huddling around a fire watching old family VHS's (archaic, right?), holding each other up as the minutes turn into years, or just living the routine day in and day out of life together.

"Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless His holy name!"

Psalm 103:1

From our family to yours, Merry Christmas!