stop and smell the rosemary

So, my blog has been a bit random lately . . .

When my life is flying by at warp speed, I find it hard to sit down and collect my thoughts. But Greg is at a meeting tonight, I have no appointments and the pets are locked downstairs . . . so I can at least catch my breath tonight.

For those who don't know, we put Candyce (our youngest daughter) on a plane to Africa Sunday morning. She traveled to Entebbe alone--a 27 hour trip--and then met up with a former YWAM buddy. They are hanging out in Uganda until the 28th, when Candyce will try to cross the border into South Sudan. She is praying they will let her in . . . and I'm not saying which way I'm praying.

Actually, my prayer is the standard, "Not my will, but Yours be done." I've found over the years that you really can't go wrong with that request.
Candyce will not only be doing a lot of ministry while she's in Africa; she's going to be seeking God's heart for the next step in her journey.

And a certain young man she's meeting up with will be seeking guidance for his life, too. And I'm pretty sure he's hoping their paths will be intersecting . . .

So, I cleaned out Candyce's room on Monday to make way for my next guest--my oldest daughter, Lindsay. Greg and I convinced her to move back home for a few months before the wedding to save a bit of cash--and just hang out with her old mom and dad. I'm looking forward to neverending wedding-mode, gourmet meals (that girl can cook!), good times with Lindsay and Nich. But especially just to have the chance to love on my daughter while she's still ours.
You are one blessed guy, Nich!

I'm still in garden mode. I've planted every green thing you can possibly put in the ground in this ghastly weather and most of the starts seem to be faring well. I've put rosemary, thyme, strawberries, broccoli and cauliflower starts in the hot tub--and sowed a few radish and beet seeds (although I forgot to mark which was which).

Then I made Greg drag the old, rotted grape arbor (which had collapsed in the front yard) into the back yard and set it up in a spot I'd prepared for my peas. I made a simple trellis along the sides of the arbor and put the cute little pea plants in the carefully prepared soil beneath. They seemed quite grateful to be out of their constricting pots.

I finally got an application for the community garden and will meet with the rest of my fellow farmers next weekend. Danielle and the Somali girls, my friend Val and perhaps Lindsay and Nich will help with this project. Sometimes I feel I may have bitten off more than I can chew, but I am compelled to do this. It's either a God-thing or I'm delusional. My sweet husband won't tell me which way he thinks it all leans . . .

And I'm still working at the organic farm one day a week. I've planted, watered, transplanted and have been amazed at the fruits of our labor. I've learned so much in just a few short weeks--how to compost, what kind of soil to use, how to fertilize and discourage pests in eco-friendly ways. I've met some interesting people at the farm--Freya, who loves all things organic, and who had such impressive dreadlocks at one time that they gave her terrible headaches. She finally hacked them off and they lie curled in a basket by her fireplace. She's jewish and hip and never gets mad at me when I put a roma tomato start in the brandywine's placed.

I'm still making and selling my handmade journals--I've even branched out into a few stores around town. I did a craft show a few Sundays back at a pub in downtown Portland. I didn't sell much, but made some new friends and traded lots of journals for really cool hand-made stuff. I even got interviewed for a trailer for the independent film "Handmade Nation." Anybody want my autograph?

I'm doing a lot of writing for my "real" job at InterAct Ministries--tracking down missionaries, interviewing them, coaxing pictures and stories from their reticent hearts for a newsletter I put out every two weeks or so. If you are interested in reading about what these amazing folks are doing for the Lord in the North Pacific Crescent, let me know and I'll put you on the mailing list. These guys--and gals--are my heroes!

Yep, I'm having a blast but all this intellectual stimulation has not helped my sleep issues. I finally caved in and met with a sleep doctor last week--and he thinks I might have sleep apnea. So next Thursday night, Greg will drop me off at the Sleep Center where I will be hooked up to a gazillion wires and then be monitored, recorded and observed while I sleep. As creepy as that sounds, I am looking forward to it. Stayed tuned for further episodes of Sleepless in Portland!

God is good. My life is full. I wouldn't change a thing . . .