What's the Plott?

The last post in the France Travel series  - although feel sure its influence will be noted for years to come! Paris made me look up. Bordeaux made me look closer. Marseille brought me inside the door. And that feels like the right way to end this little France travel series. By the time we arrived in Marseille, the train ride had been hot, our bags felt heavier than they had at the beginning of the trip, and the rhythm of travel had fully settled into our bones. On the platform, we met a German girl who had lived abroad for school for a few years, and despite her broken English, the conversation was easy and interesting in that way travel conversations sometimes are. You share stories with someone you have never met, both of you going somewhere different, and for a few minutes, your lives overlap in unexpected connections. It would turn out to set the tone for the personal connection felt in this city that was missing from the first two.  Getting off the train in the late of ...

The simplest way to explain the difference between Paris and Bordeaux is Paris made me look up. Bordeaux made me look in. Paris felt big and glittering and almost unreal. The Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, Notre-Dame, the crowds, the lights — everything felt like it had already been introduced to me by movies and pictures and history books. Bordeaux felt different. Not less beautiful. Just quieter in its invitation to see all it had to offer. It didn’t shout for my attention quite the same way. It waited for me to find and notice it's treasures. The first thing we found in Bordeaux was a local artist whose work had this dark Alice-in-Wonderland kind of feel. My brother and I both bought pieces with canelés — the little Bordeaux dessert I am still not sure I pronounce correctly — and I also bought one with a three-minute egg because I had eaten one for breakfast and apparently that is enough reason for me to buy art now. I found a baguette magnet for John Grady and am still looking for s...

Bon jour! A little different this week due to recently becoming a world traveler.....  Travel makes the world feel bigger, but it also makes people feel more human. I have been in Paris for two days, and I feel like I have seen all there is to see. Which is not actually true. But it feels true to my legs and feet. 😅 We figured out the subway but you still somehow find yourself walking everywhere and there are stairs... So.  Many.  Stairs. But also, so many people everywhere . Languages everywhere. Buildings everywhere... And all of them look like they belong in movies or fairy tales or history books or all of the above! And all of it is real. Every corner feels like it has a story. Every building looks intentional. Every street seems to hold layers of people who came before, people who call this place home, and people who are just passing through.  Paris is beautiful in a way that is hard to explain without sounding dramatic. But I will say this: I haven...

There are some moments you can’t manufacture. You can plan, prepare, and pray for the message. But you cannot make the Holy Spirit move. You can prepare the ground, but only God brings the growth, and only in His time! This past week at youth camp, I watched God move among our students in a way that was both deeply familiar and completely new. Familiar because I have experienced those moments before. When I was a teenager, I remember being in rooms full of students where the presence of the Holy Spirit felt as real as a rushing wind. I remember teenagers praying over one another, hands lifted in worship, hearts softened, tears flowing, lives being marked by moments none of us could deny once we came down from the mountain. Those moments shape you. They stay with you. And when God calls you to lead the next generation, you carry those memories with a holy kind of longing. You want your students to experience Him like that, too. Not just to know about Him. Not just to atten...

I had fatigue scheduled for August. That sounds reasonable, right? 😂 When I had Gamma Knife radiation a few weeks ago, they warned me that delayed fatigue was a common side effect. But they also said it might show up two to three months later. So, naturally, in my mind I thought, Perfect. I’ll pencil that in for August. Because May and June were already full. Fifth grade graduation. End-of-year celebrations. Youth camp. Wedding showers. Photography jobs already on the calendar. Family responsibilities. Farm responsibilities. All the things. The surgery was the unplanned thing. Everything else had already been scheduled before we knew “it’s time to do something” meant two weeks from now. And most of those things weren’t mine to cancel or reschedule. So when I felt “well enough,” I did what I usually do. I kept going. Honestly, the procedure went so much better than expected. I am deeply grateful. I am doing well. God has been faithful. My recovery has been smoother than I c...