a seattle spring

I can’t shake Fall as my favorite season (and not just for the boots and cozy sweaters).  I love watching my surroundings burst into a crazy flame of vibrant color.  It’s intensely gorgeous.

But on the flip side, there’s something inherently beautiful in watching things grow, especially when those things are becoming a sea of green right before your eyes.  This is our first spring in Seattle, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much green.  (Green is my favorite color by the way, so you can imagine the state of joy I’m in.)  Where Fall leaves me eagerly overwhelmed, I’m finding more and more that Spring creates a sense of peace and newness.  I walk around with these soft, “everything is alright” sort of smiles.  Even when it’s gray outside—welcome to Seattle, everyone—it’s still green.  This must be why Seattleites put up with the rain.  

Easter happens.  Everything comes back alive.  We are reminded of the abundant life that can spring from periods of death.    

In the spirit of springtime, I wanted to share a few pictures from a walk I took a few mornings ago.  I put the little boy I nanny in a stroller and we embraced the cloudy day on our way to the grocery store and back.  If these aren't peaceful to you... well, perhaps try going outside and seeing for yourself.  

And we're off...

Watching the boats

The Fremont Bridge (northeast side)

Lake Union

Underneath the Aurora Bridge

Last but not least... this is just awesome.

just for me

I’ve been toying lately with the idea of blogging.  I’ve played with it in the past, but have not sufficiently come up with a definition for what “blogging” actually is.  Should I find a blogging “niche” so that I’m readable, like crafting or cooking or ministry?  (And on that note, what happens if all the aforementioned skills are somewhat, if not seriously, lacking?)  What if I’m not an interesting enough person?  Is it okay to be serious and pastoral in one post and quirky and irrelevant in another, or does that seem completely inconsistent and annoying?  What if no one cares to read anything I say? 

Long story short, I’ve been reading Bittersweet, by Shauna Niequist (who, perhaps not-so-ironically, is also a blogger).  Tonight I read this in her book: 

“We create because we were made to create, having been made in the image of God, whose first role was Creator […] Do the work, learn the skills, and make art, because of what the act of creation will create in you” (pg 160, 163).    

I know this is true with my husband, Matt.  He plays piano, messes with graphic design, loves to paint and draw and write.  He doesn’t do it for anyone else.  He doesn’t expect to be well-known or relevant.  Honestly, most of what he does doesn’t leave our living room.  But the process is therapeutic.  Pulling away from all the other pressures of life (which can be insidious when you’re a married full-time student in a PhD program) is not only relaxing, it’s restful—like taking a walk or sitting with a book and a cup of coffee is for some of the rest of us.  He does it for him, because his creative cups are filling up and overflowing.

So what if no one ever reads what I write.  So what if I don't blog every day, or have anything particularly mind blowing to say every week.  What if it's just about reflecting on the little moments, the stories, the wonderings, the highlights?  If it brings a little light and life, maybe it's worth making time for.  If it's part of my God-created self, maybe that can be enough.