A "Beary" Month of Love

I made this for our sweet Grace in honor of Month of Love (you may need to read old posts to catch up on that Covak phrase). She loves it when I make something for her, probably for all the obvious suspects (it's hers and hers alone; there's not another one like it on the planet; it's cute) but also the unlikely ones, too (she knows that I pray for the recipient of every project the entire time I work on it and enjoys watching the various stages of production). In this case, her little bear sure was a whole lotta' stitches of love for the Month of Love. She picked out the colors of her sweater and assures me she's still working on just the right name (always a process with that little one).

It only took a day to make, but she'll hang onto it for years, I guarantee. She's sentimental. She feels loved when you spend quality time either with her or for her while telling her all the ways you love her. I happen to make this a couple of Sundays ago as we commiserated together under the fumes of a lacquered floor (I'll post about that later) and the stomach nasties of two of our guys (Elijah and Craig). While we tended to our sickies and watched episodes of Sherlock Holmes on PBS, we laughed and giggled...and she crocheted an entire riding set for her llama from Nana (oh, I should post on that, too!)
 
Need I say, I love all four children God's sent us. But this one....well, this one is a gem in her own right, particularly because she challenges me to love with the compassion she so richly gives to others while making it so truly easy to be her mommy. Yes, February has been the Month of Love, filled with tokens such as this. It may be a small gesture - the bear and the act of love it represents - but, to our sweet Doodlebug, it's a hug when she needs it, a tear-catcher when she wants it, and an ever-present reminder of how much we love her...in any month.

"What Kind Of Person Are You?"

We are enjoying three free months of Showtime because I called them with a receiver problem and (Thrifty Alert!) inquired what freebies they were offering. We're not huge movie watchers, at least not for variety. We're more of the "you know it when you see it so you buy it and watch it forever" types. Well, I am, anyway. So, we'd never consider paying for premium channels. Still, they're fun to have when they're free (as most luxuries are) and here's a perfect reason why...you run across a favorite movie you haven't seen in a while (even though, yes, you do own the DVD) and find yourself giddy at the prospect of watching it on a snowy Sunday afternoon while all the kids nap. Ahhhhhhh....a Calgon moment.

This is my favorite scene from the movie and one of my favorites of all time. The movie is Signs (woot woot for Shyamalan...except for Unbreakable), and the clip begs the question "What Kind Of Person Are You?" Every time I watch it, I get the shivers.

Yes, yes. I got it.

As you may recall, this week, I'm rejoicing. I'm not dictating my definition of love. And I'm not wallowing in a pity party. To that end, here's a little update I though you all would enjoy:

Yesterday, my husband affirmed me, conveying warm thoughts like, "Thanks for all you do" and "You're a good wife" while hugging and kissing me. Repeat cycle. Continue throughout day.

Grace emptied the dishwasher before I ever asked then turned to me, smiled,and queried, "Mommy, is there anything else I can do for you?"

The boys played without one conflict all morning.

Elijah put his Box Tops in his backpack for the final day of submission - after his sister divided them equally, put them in snack bags, and labeled them with the necessary info. Then he hugged his baby brother and informed him, "Someday, I'll label Box Tops for you, Judsen."

My mother-in-law picked up both my children from school on her day off so I could run errands and cook her birthday dinner in peace.

All this without my instruction, interference, agenda, or plan. Imagine that (dry sarcasm oozing here).

 Yes, yes, God. I got it.

Followers....?

I don't know: "followers" sounds hinky to me and, as a recent episode of one of my top 5 tv faves quipped, "Hinky...you know, slang for iffy." The idea both of being and of having followers seems a skosh odd, but that's what the world of blogging terms it so...onward.

I say a sincere thank you, thank you, thank you to so many new followers. You are good and faithful friends to encourage and support an endeavor to expand my comfort zone and, hopefully, be a bit better all-around as a result. For the few who've been reading for some time either officially, anonymously, sporatically, or some other "ly", I thank you, too. It seems more like I'm talking to faces than black, empty air which, when chronicaling my life, breeds greater ease and enjoyment of the process.

Hats off to you, dear friends. You continue to make my days. You have my sincere appreciation.

What I Need to Know

As I understand it, this has been making rounds on the internet for a while. Nevertheless, I hadn't seen it, came across it, and proceeded to wipe previously dry eyes during some of the frames. I, too, have wished at times I could interview God - that part of me that wants answers to the big questions of life that leave me saying, "Sometimes You just don't make any sense at all."

The better part of me knows I really don't want to know, probably couldn't handle knowing. Some secrets, truly, just aren't mine to know.

This video, however, breaks it down into what maybe we all do need to know - the last frame says it all. Enjoy.

Yes, But Do I Rejoice?

As you've read, I'm progressing through Crazy Love by Francis Chan. So good. I come across so many tidbits that make me stop and evaluate my life anew. Some of that thinking is pretty off the chart. Remember: this book is about crazy love, which means you've got to be open to thinking radical and not just, "Eh. That's not for me." Who's to say it's not for you? If you want to be better, go deeper, grow stronger, it's not just about hitting the gym and eating a high-protein, low-sugar/salt/bad fat diet....we must cultivate the inside, too.

My most recent tidbit: 

"I used to believe this in this world there are two kinds of people: natural worriers and naturally joyful people. I really couldn't help it that I was the worrying kind. I'm a problem solver, so I have to focus on things that need fixing. God can see [...] my intensity and anxiety [...] But then there's that perplexing command: "Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!" (Phil. 4:4)." 

While I'm neither a worrier nor a particularly joyful person, I glean much from this sentiment. Namely, I'm a realist who leans far more toward glass half-empty than it ever occurs to me to lean half-full. I'm a thinker and, yes, I sure am a problem solver. I have a masculine communication style that makes it efficient to exchange with men, but far harder with women. And, boy, am I intense. 

So what's that got to do with the price of pudding? Well, during the Month of Love, I thought I was learning this: I'm not sure I'm fully appreciated by my family. Note that I wrote "thought" I was learning. I spent the last week moaning and groaning about it...mostly internally, but I confess, some seepage found the external, too. I spent a few days pondering how to convince my family to change...and then it occurred to me: why? Why do I want them to change? Can I lead them by example? Sure! Can I encourage them to follow? Yep. Can I rely on them to alter who they are strictly for the benefit of my happiness and acceptance? Absolutely not.

We live in a postmodern culture where we've swung the pendulum to care for self as "me against all." In other words, we implement phrases like "take care of you" and "protect yourself" as if everyone we love and value is coming after us. It's a position of defense, to say the least. But I don't believe my family - these living, breathing evidences of how much He gives that I don't deserve - are out to get me. They need me as I need them. This isn't the emotional Olympics: loving shouldn't be about what I get in return. I'm not judging them on their level of execution, technical skill, or artistic components. Why can't it be enough to know they love me? The answer is, it can. 

I realize that, regardless of our personality profiles, spiritual gifts, innate talents, and intrinsic temperaments, we are still called to rejoice in the much rather than "Eeyore" in the few. As Chan writes, "When I am consumed by my problems - stressed about my life, my family, my job - I actually convey the belief that I think the circumstances are more important than God's command to always rejoice." Well, shoot! I don't want to convey that! Yes, I believe in good boundaries. Of course, I believe in speaking your mind about the feelings in your heart. Certainly, relationship means you must conquer conflict and face rejection. But I also know the only person I can fully change is me: only I am responsible for my choices. And my family is so worth the effort.

This week, I'm committing to choosing to rejoice in all I have...not the "stuff" of this world that competes for my attention and affections. No, I'll rejoice in the "who" of my life: they may not be perfect but, then again, neither am I. They may not love as I want them to love but, then again, lately I've needed a love reboot, too. Love isn't about my definition, my family's definition, or even your definition. He defined it for us:

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails."
-- 1 Corinthians 13:4-7. 

In chapter five, Chan poses this challenge: Everywhere you see love, insert your name instead. See how well you pass God's definition of love. My results last week? Not good, so I'm going to do better.

It is enough to know my family loves me. Who they are is enough for me. Though I've been teaching my two older children these verses, I've found (as it usually goes), I'm learning perhaps even more than they are. I'm aware that I'm not living as radically in love as I want, that there's more to weed out, till up, plow under. Though it may seem crazy, that's love.

Crazy love.

"You've Landed on a Whammy!"

I came of age in the 80s when morning tv didn't consist of 4-hour news shows or cooking programs or talk media. I remember Donahue (vaguely) but not Oprah. And the Today show was a couple of hours...tops. Not that I tuned in much since I was in school; but the watching went into high gear during bouts of stomach flu, bed-confining colds, and that nasty attack of chicken pox. My mom would make me soup and let me drink Pepsi Free (in the 12 oz. bottles....remember those?), and I'd plant myself in the corner of the couch for "tv and me" time.

While my brother, Tim, much preferred cartoons and The Three Stooges, I found preference in game shows. I could (and did) watch them from their 9 am start to their 12 noon finish...click, click, click. One of the Nielsen faves was "Press Your Luck." Ring any bells? (Jessi, you missed the 80s, I know, so bear with me). On this show, contestants sat facing the audience while hovering over a plunger button. Behind them, a square digitized screen flashed various dollar winnings with vacation trips and pleasure packages like the spa or windsurfing lessons...a big ticket in Iowa, let me tell ya (insert sarcastic tone here). They'd randomly press the plunger to make the flashing light stop on one of these squares and would win whatever they landed on. Unless, of course, they hit a Whammy - a squat, reddish reptilian that most resembled an animalistic devil, if you ask me. The animated Whammy would then stroll across the screen and laugh horribly at the contestant as their coffers of winnings were wiped clean. So sad.

Well, this week, I landed on some whammys. There have been no trips to the spa, no free tickets to Hilton Head, SC (though that would be my spot of choice, Aim), and no surprise $500 in the mail. Instead, I got billed $40 from the pediatrician that insurance should cover but won't - because the office coded it wrong and it can't be undone. Say what?! I learned that cold truth after spending 2 hours and 45 minutes (no exaggeration) tracking down details and going back and forth between the insurance company and the doctor. I'd punch somebody, but Jesus would frown on it, so...

Then our refrigerator required two parts that totaled well more than five bucks...which is about all I was in the mood to pay for our five-year-old frig. Afterwards, I found myself wondering about the practicality of building a 1900s wood box filled with ice blocks and tree shavings...it worked 100 years ago: couldn't it work now?

We've conquered vomit, forgotten piano books, Hundreds Day at school, CSAPs, reassembling our entire lower floor, and cleaning all porous household surfaces...en masse. I'm exhausted. Weary. Short-tempered.  And I still have to finish grading essays (say a little prayer for the freshmen). But here's what I did win when I wasn't landing on a Whammy:

• a husband who thoughtfully picked up dinner on Tuesday...without me asking or requiring it.
• a profoundly prized Michelle who refinanced our home (on her own time - and she's got precious little of it)...and informed us we'd be getting an escrow check from our old loan
• a son who informed me, "Mommy, when I love on you, I feel full inside like after you cook a really good dinner."
• a faraway friend who reminded me that reading about Samuel reveals truth even today
• an integral islander who reminds me daily of how to better love my children with self-denying patience and tenderness
• a soul mate who led small group without me even though facing the room alone after an 11-hour day was not high on his list of evening wind-downs
• an iron that pressed the clothes, a toilet that flushed on demand, candles that soothed the senses, flowers that filled the vases, a machine that washed the clothes, a gym that burned the aggression, and athletes who took the Gold. 

It is the Month of Love if I'll only see it as so. I love. I am loved. I choose  love...even if a few Whammys tempt me not to because, the way I figure it, love beats Whammys anyday. Right?

Humma, humma, who?!!

It was a few weeks ago that I encountered a gal whose comment left my eyebrows raised and hackles up. She is what I label a "humma, humma, who?" because she makes me wonder what in the world gets into of us that prompts us to have complete diarrhea of the mouth.

I was at the Y finishing up one of my classes. Now, you need to know that there's a group of gals with whom I've been working out for, oh, probably 6 years. We've been skinny, then swelled with babies, then inflated drastically post-babies, and then gotten skinny again. All the while, we "rah rah" each other while fending off the nay-sayers who quip about just how gargantuan we get. But that's ok....we're just trying to be healthy here, y'all. So, the gals are all uber-supportive of my body version that's officially settled into not just a comeback, but a here-to-stay, if you get my drift.  Even our teachers get in on it - as they should since their instruction and inspiration get us there all the faster. This particular class, the gals were especially encouraging, as was my teacher. All good stuff...until she came along.

This woman walks right up to me, hands on hips, eyes narrowed and spits, "You know, that's all well and good that you lost some weight and everyone thinks that's a big deal. But you know what?  You oughtta' try having some babies with those hips, butt, and boobs and then see where you're at." After which, she spun on her heel, grabbed her towel, and stalked out of the studio.

Ummmmmm. Okay. Clearly, we haven't met.

Funny part is, I had to nearly hold the girls back...and my teacher, Lori, has been huntin' for that women ever since. Now, these gals are a lethal combination - fit and furious - so I hope they don't ever find her, I'll tell you that. But it also reminds me that we all voice thoughts that are better left silent and must open mouth and insert foot more often than we might care to recall. And, seriously.... I draw these crazies like ants to a picnic. It reminds me to think before I talk....and hope no waste comes out. Because, really, I sure don't want to be a "humma, humma, who?"

Toes

Chorus from "Toes" by Zac Brown Band:

"I've got my toes in the water

Ass in the sand

Not a worry in the world

A cold beer in the hand

Life is good today

Life is good today."

Sigh. If only.

Spare Change

I was born with blond hair and blue eyes. I have short legs and a widow's peak. I'm double-jointed and short-tempered. I need glasses to drive at night and my ability to spatially manipulate is about as developed as my understanding of Spanish (which is nearly non-existent. Thank you, Lord, for bi-lingual Jessi). Now all these characteristics may be genetically-based, but I'm certain that there's one more part of me that experts would argue ain't got nothin' to do with DNA...but I'd beg to differ.

I'm thrifty. Thrifty, thrifty, thrifty. I'm the gal who reads the articles in magazines titled in big, bold, red lettering that hails, "Slash Your Budget to Near Nothing" and I think, "Amateurs."

So, it occurred to me, why not share a few tips during the Covak Month of Love? To that end, here's a hot tidbit for sparing some change today, especially for the Colorado Springs readers: King Soopers gift cards. Say huh? If you buy $50 in gift cards (figures to about 2 or 3, depending on the amount), you get 10 cents in gas savings. Why buy them from Kings? Because buying them directly from the store doesn't get you the cheap gas, silly! AND, they've got quite the selection...everywhere from Bed, Bath & Beyond to Cracker Barrel to ITunes to Target. I even buy King Soopers gift cards at King Soopers and use them when I buy 10 for $10 deals or pick up the stray batch of bananas or loaf of bread. The double dip is that I purchase them using our Rewards credit card that we pay off each month - and I get double points for gift card purchases. So, I use the cards at the vendors for my everyday spending, get rewards toward a check in the mail, and earn the points to send Craig to Kings to gas up the 4Runner. Cool.

So, planning a date night with dinner out? Pick up a card! Needs some new tunes? Pick up a card! Get your gas from Shell or run the kids through McDonald's a few times each week? Pick. Up. A. Card. Cash in! And if you don't have a King Soopers (or their affiliate, City Market), check out your local big grocery chain: Kings isn't the only to sport such a program. 


The secret to spare change is almost always thinking outside the box. Thinking about your routine and how to optimize it is better than always making an entirely new one, I say.

And spare change sure feels good jingling in the pocket.

What Makes It Our Home?

I mentioned in Month of Love that we try to love on our house. To us, this frame sitting on Quiet Pond Place is more than four walls and some stucco. We are intentional people by our design, so no detail of this house is without purpose. Forethought. That's best reflected in this element in our entry hall:

Home - not the building called a house, but the family and memories within it - is where your story begins. In a world gone crazy with rough and tumble, we are determined to make this house the most soul-changing, smile-making home it can be.

So, you can see how important it would be, then, to us to make this home beautiful in every way. A key way I do that is to change the house with the seasons. This keeps it from becoming stale and, really, don't we all change our wardrobe and accessories throughout the year? Why not a house, too? Now, I confess: this idea is not original to me. It's not even specific to me. But the beauty is that it looks specific to each house. My friend and mentor, Marita, taught me this by example when Craig and I were first married and lived in Alaska. When you enter the Shipman's home, it positively shouts grace and peace. Obviously, the decor alone doesn't accomplish that feat - the hearts and souls of the ones inside it do that - but the love poured from them into the ambiance of their home, I learned, accentuates their authentic selves. This family is also why we entertain so much. Their leading by living accounts for the myriad of new families we welcome to our home and why dinner is not just an appointment, but an event. (Thanks, Scott and Marita, for being so stellar.) 

So here's a "pict-folio" of how we love the house that changes with us to continually be our home.

Three key components: the seasonally-changing cloth dinner napkins, the "snack jug" that feeds all the hungry with an ever-varied cache of goodies, and our welcome chalkboard to mark the day or celebrate the arrival of dinner guests...Grace is in charge of the art. Wonder why.

Two sconces at the entry arch are filled with different picks to flow with the seasons' colors and textures. Here's what's in there now - winter.

Our accent wall in the parlor showcases the current portraits of the three gifts we treasure most. As they change, so does it...to remind us they're growing and there will never be a day like today again. Best seize it, then.

The upstairs hall spotlights our favorite black and whites...mixed in with some treasured memories that take a turn up there, as well. The wedding picture of my hands pinning Craig's boutonniere always stays as does my prized silhouettes of my pregnancy with Elijah (thanks, Tosha). Otherwise, we hang what we need to remember most at the time.

Our study hallway also changes with the seasons: sometimes these frames hold collections of leaves; sometimes pictures I shot of fireworks near our annual 4th of July vacation spot; sometimes pressed flowers from the yard or snow scenes. Here's today's collection. (Thanks, Kendall).

And don't forget the closeup: I love how the mirror creates texture and interest in this piece.

And this sums up the mantra of the house as a whole. Many of my ideas are my own, but some come from excellent friends who become a part of our home when I incorporate their expressions of selves. In the end, we have a house that feels warm to us. That inhabits His presence. That welcomes all into it. However you do it, I hope you're inspired to do it. It's how we make a house our home.

An Answer

Turns out the answer to One Question is "yes". The silenced infectious laughter and absence of his extraordinary talent and unfailingly generous spirit leaves a gaping hole in the kingdom - this is true. But I do not weep for David. He is well. 

I weep for three. I rejoice for one.

And the "yes" sits well in my soul.

Month of Love

Get an extra hug in the middle of dinner for no reason at all? Month of love. Find your laundry dried, folded, and put in your drawers without you even knowing the hamper's full? Month of love. Get a phone call just to hear me say, "I love you. You sure are somethin'."? Month of love.

The caretaker and nurturer of this house (aka me) started "month of love" February with this simple tenet in mind: 

If you get crazy about it, it'll become a habit. And habits will become ways of life. Ways of life change the soul. And souls change the world.

Some ways, we'll change big. In other ways, we'll change small. But in all ways, we'll change for God. Now that's love. We center on loving each other as a family - wife to husband, parents to kids, sister to brothers. And don't worry: the reverse applies, too. We focus on loving the primary relationships in our lives. We even love our house. Yes, I say...even the house gets its props!

So, seriously, you ask, "Give some specifics, girl!" Uh-huh. Here ya' go:

1. Kisses under kiddos pillows means Mommy came in and loved them while they slept. They love that.
2. Elijah brings down "secret notes" in the early morning hours to put in his Daddy's lunch bag...and only Daddy's allowed to see them.
3. Grace's lunch notes change from the daily scripture and messages I generally send to one verse a day from 1 Cor. 13. Then we discuss how she can love better each day in light of God's definition of love.
4. Instead of reading to Judsen before his nap and laying him down, I hold him wrapped in his favorite blanket until he falls asleep. I do notice he naps longer and deeper. Power of love.
5. Craig gets special goodies for his lunches, his favorite yummies for breakfasts, and the doting attention of his wife always. There may even be some spicy .... well, you get the picture.
6. Friends get offers for childcare, dinners galore, and we even get a double-date in there with the ones we just can't do without.
7. Teachers get notes of thanks and praises of appreciation. On red stationary.
8. And the house gets new wood flooring and a solid cleaning from top to bottom.

But it really doesn't matter what you do or how you choose to do it: just put a little love in your heart. Then be contagious in how you love. Set the world on fire. Look into your heart and find it...rest assured it's there.

Month of love.

Man, It's Good to be Someone

My new favorite song is "Someday" by Rob Thomas. One quick line in this song says, "Man, it's good to be someone." Which begs the question, "Who am I?"

Yesterday, our everyday reality shifted. We learned that our 27 days of waiting for God to answer our cry for David's life had come to an end. Recovery teams have located and extracted the remains of our beloved friend. I understand that, eventually, they'll make their way to Colorado. And that's necessary for those he left behind - his wife, Renee, and their two little boys, especially. I also understand that David's not coming home...he's already there. I don't know when he went so I don't know how long he's been there. I don't know how that worked or where, and I certainly don't know why. But I know that waiting season is over. He answered.

A reply of "No" from God is the hardest you'll ever hear. I've heard it before. I'll hear it again. God hasn't changed, and He ain't gonna'. So who am I going to be in the face of His "No"? I'm the someone who's going to say, "Okay. That's it. I believed. I let him go. And now I'm about the business of the living and the loving of his wife and sons. Of our friends. Of our own kids. Of one another." I'm the someone who declines the urge to hang onto the demands of this world...you can't take in the things you have here, anyway.  I'm the someone who stands and worships a God I don't understand in favor of a plan I will accept. I'm the someone who believes in a God I can't see who tells me He owes me no explanations. I'm the someone who lives His truth out loud...mountain or valley - it doesn't matter. I'm the someone who's asking, "If faith is all you've got, will it be enough?"

Last night, my brother asked me, "How can you believe in a God who doesn't answer your 'why'?" My response was, "How can you not?" When my head hit the pillow, I was comforted. I don't want to have it all in my palm: I'd rather He keep it in His. I'm the someone who says that... and believes it.

Man, it's good to be someone.

Rob Thomas "Someday"

Urban-wha?

Webster's notes that it is "a lexiconic device to understand and dialogue regarding, pertaining to, or designating a city or town." Adults use it to understand teens; my students even try to use it as "an academic source." Uh-huh. Sure.

So what is it? Well, I'll let it tell you. It's page banner says it all...

Urban Dictionary is the dictionary you wrote. Define your world

4,561,885 definitions since December 9, 1999

As a lover of words...even the crass, inexplicably juvenile ones (especially those, in fact), I confess: I love the Urban Dictionary. As a testimony to its uber-trendy status, you can find it predominantly in cyberspace, quietly waiting for your perusal. In this linguistic world, you discover what in the world "ISmear" means; the best methods to "conversate"; how to handle being "guac-blocked"; and even ponder the unlikelihood of "wiper beat."

Okay, so it's not rocket science. Not deep thinking. Not intensely focused on politics, religion, or world peace. But let's get over ourselves now and again! Think guilty pleasure! If we don't release in multiple ways, we'll all combust anyway, so learn a bit o' slang. Get in touch with your sillier side. Crasser side. Kid side. It's the month of love - don't forget to love yourself, too.

Still not convinced? Well, here's the redeeming kicker, then...if you must have one: urban dictionary terms are the ones we say as a culture. We do. Connect with what's going on and feel like you're a participant in your culture rather than a passive spectator: engage the sport of living fully not just responsibly.

Oh, and don't think urban speak is contained at their site. I mean, seriously: is anything contained on the internet? The UD is finding its rhythm, all right: with their "word of the day" feature and incorporation of slang meanings even for first names, people are taking a look. Want some evidence? Today's featured word is one I haven't yet heard, but am now sure I'll use. It's "vaguebooking" defined as "an intentionally vague Facebook status update, that prompts friends to ask what's going on, or is possibly a cry for help." Yes! We need a word for this singularly annoying behavior. Perfect. Want still more proof?

Here's a status post game I saw on Facebook just this morning. The challenge read, "Go to urbandictionary.com, type in your first name, copy and paste this as your status and put the first entry for your name under your comments." While I chose not to do this on my page, I'll do it here for y'all.

Candice, according to the UD, means, "A beautiful, stunning, down to earth girl with an incredible voice that brings out the best in people with her beautiful blue eyes and impeccable smile. Is able to roll with the punches, while you stroll hand in hand.

DUDEEEEE see that girl singing right there? No joke, you can tell she's a Candice.

 

See? How can you not go get that bump in your day?

Crazy Love

Here's the book I'm reading and contemplating in the month of February: Crazy Love by Francis Chan. I heard about it a la Amy Cunningham - yet another reason why I call her one of my most precious gems. She's reading it, too, and I look forward to having great conversations about it with her.

If you're looking for a new book, I'd love to have great conversations with you, too. February is the month of love, of course, so I figured what better way to focus on love than centering on the "crazy love" I feel for God? Life moves fast, and I don't want to miss it. I want to see those who matter most in the optimal light of both the real and ideal because I know when others see me both as I can be and as I brutally am, I'm the better for it. Now, God doesn't need to be better. But I sure do. I want to. 

This month, I'm also stepping out to love especially closely the people I call my "core." Whether it's babysitting, double dating, meal-making, card-sending, or phone-calling, I'm intentionally pursuing them lest their vivid knowledge of how much I love and value them dims. This includes my kids, my closest girlfriends (you know who you are), our closest couple friends, and family. The calendar may be full, but their love banks will be, too.

I want the love in my life to be crazy. I want a living epitaph that reads, "That girl knows how to love." No, I don't want to boast or brag - but I do want to love. I want to love with patience and kindness, giving beyond myself without a record of wrongs. I want to live crazy love.

How do you want to love?