the hope of deep heaven

Kellen and my Thanksgiving Day walk around Cherokee Park 

A few weeks ago, during the height of Autumn here in Louisville, a co-worker and I were casually talking about hiking and how much this time of the year causes me to long for the mountains. He told me all about Red River Gorge, a supposedly gorgeous substitute for the North Georgia mountains that I miss so much. Then I told him stories about my mountaineer father and husband, specifically my joy in sharing days at a time with only them and the wilderness. Somehow in this kindred dialogue of nature and creative recreation,  I began to notice a completely differing perspective on our dispositions toward beauty. At one point he said, "A falling leaf is only beautiful because it's a falling leaf." Gratefully customers began to fill the shop, anxious for coffee, so I had no opportunity for a response---I don't think I could have withheld a snippety remark.

Later that day I went to Orchard Slope to read and think and so Bailey could get out some energy. The wind was boisterous, sending all the leaves dancing through the sky in a delightful fashion. The sight stirred my heart with joy. I thought about what my friend had said and felt a tinge of sorrow for what he misses. A single falling leaf is intricately and utterly full of the magic of Love in this world. It "speaks bliss" and sings praises to the One who sent it. The essence of Autumn's beauty lay not in it's existence---but in God's presence.

There are moments when something so beautiful catches me, like a brightly ornamented Autumn tree or the early dawn breaking the night sky (not a Twilight reference!), so much so that I desperately wish to physically be apart and plunge into it as Dick Van Dyke jumps into a chalk drawing. But the leaves fall and fade and the dawn drowns out. Moments of utter beauty slip between my fingers and I am usually left with a feeling of disappointment.

But that is not the end!

This ache...this longing...is what the Inklings would call (the day is never wasted when you use a German word) Sehnsucht---which my sister just got as a tatoo (she is so cool). This word describes an insatiable longing, a yearning that is in fact a homesickness for our true home---where there is not a waning of color or an ending of beauty.

I cannot express how much I love the season of Christmas. Mostly I enjoy the attention of Advent....a time of expectation and preparation for, as Lewis would say, deep heaven to fall upon our heads. A season to focus on the fact that Christ has come, as a mortal baby, and is coming again to console our every souls ache and be the "joy of every longing heart". Each falling leaf is beautiful because it whispers of this reality.

Worlds that I have never seen still call to me and haunt my dreams and quiet things still stir belief that you alone are home for me. So I may never see your shores, but such a place exists. (My Epic)

I am so thankful that each day can be lived with joy because of the Hope within me and the Hope awaiting me.

Even still, Come Lord Jesus. 


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Finals are over (something I wasn't disappointed about ending...) and we had an unconventional Thanksgiving. Because of our jobs, we couldn't make it home. My sister, Corie, and our daughter, Quinn, made our Thanksgiving very thanks-FULL by the gift of their presence! I made my first Thanksgiving dinner with their help and the years of Gamaw's training.

Corie climbed this with purse in hand...hilarious she is!

My first turkey...not burned and fairly juicy! The only casualty were my wrists,
which I burned with boiling water. A sacrifice well worth it.

Kellen's first as well! Taking after his Dad. 

Our menu!

The chefs in all our glory.

family. 

lessons from shots of espresso

Your way was through the sea, your path through the great waters; yet your footprints were unseen. (Psalm 77:19)

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. (Isaiah 43:2)

I had the blessing of taking a stroll through Cherokee Park the other day with a friend named Emily. We are still getting to know each other and therefore spent the nearly four mile walk recounting stories, intermittently stopping to catch our breath. What a joy it was to narrate to her Kellen's and my story thus far--an amazing reminder of where the Lord has brought us and what he has already faithfully lead us through. Just like the Hebrews recounting their story of Yahweh's rescue over and over in order to remind the people to glory in his salvation, so retelling my story was like a draught of cold water on a parched tongue. Even when it seems we are floundering through life, in reality he is leading and bringing his redemptive story into completion in mysterious ways.

It's like a shot of espresso. 

The perfect extraction pulls in the window of 20-25 seconds. If the water extracts too quickly the espresso tastes sour and diluted and if it pulls too slow the crema will not produce therefore creating an unwanted bitterness. The perfect shot of espresso provides the palate with a sweet yet intense flavor only a skilled barista can create! 

My attempts at latte art; obviously I am not that skilled
of a barista...yet!

The LORD also has a "fullness of time". I fight Him to give this to me earlier or I beg Him to hold off on that till later. Yet, if I would just be patient and trust that He is the ultimate Barista, extracting the most pristine shots, perfectly caffeinated and cremafied (ok, this analogy has completely broken down...). Or as Jill Phillips says:

You have the wisdom and the patience. We need your grace to see it clear. Too soon and we take it all for granted; too late is more than we can bear. So you're always right on time with and open hand. You have exactly what we need...daily bread. 

What he is guiding us through is where we need to be. And he is faithful to provide what we need when we need it.

So, tell your story! Even to people who already know it. Tell it to your dog if you must (they are great listeners). Let it serve as a reminder to the hearers and the narrator of God's faithfulness and provision! He is so good and daily providing for us physically, emotionally, spiritually, and relationally. Thank you all for your prayers!

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In between work, classes and studying, we go on adventures. Making time for adventures is a MUST in the Owens' household. Louisville is absolutely gorgeous! There is not enough time in this fall season to enjoy all it has to offer.

One of the many goals of mine is to own a monkey... 

...when my husband climb this 50 ft hardwood...

...I realized that I kind of already do!

Somehow, not quite tall enough...

Bailey's solo shot. 

"Tree Place" as Lara called it. Renamed "Bare Timber Hall" promptly after.

"fleur de tree" 

Morning picnic before class at Windy Willow!

Afternoon picnics in between classes at Cherokee Park!

KALE....yum!

Our newest adventure: joining a CSA (community supported agriculture) group! Every other week we receive a box of locally grown produce. I love surprises and trying new recipes, so it should be a good fit. Since our current living situation hinders us from having our own farm with chickens and gardens, the CSA will have to suffice for now! It's really a beautiful idea--eating what is in season, supporting small farmers, and sacrificing as a community if certain crops suffer.

I hope you are enjoying this lovely, enchanting weather. Remember God is Creator and Jesus is Lord. Now....go on a walk!

apples and narnia

Local apples from a farmer in Southern Indiana.

I started a tradition in my undergrad: to bring a fresh, delicious apple to each of my professors every Autumn. It was a classy way to show my appreciation for their efforts and inspiration and, not to mention, an extra seasonal avenue (along with pumpkin carving and leaf catching) that allowed me to feel like a little girl.

Why should graduate school be any less? The prestigious scholars, with their laptops and professional clothing, do not impede my childlike ways of running around campus with bare feet. Nor do they stand a chance to make me waiver in my elementary traditions.

Once the proper influx of the local harvest came to Louisville, I claimed my bushel of crisp apples and brought them to class to distribute amongst our professors. Our friends made fun of me in jest (emphasis on friends here) and Kellen, being used to my antics, laughed at my behavior with acquiescence.

I think our professors really appreciated the gesture. It was one that connects them with the epochs of teachers that have previously trudged the trenches of the educational realm, giving them them a transient feeling of continuity in their vision. Surely receiving an apple from a student is a tenure rite of passage in the world of academia? It should be. To all the students out there: join me in my reformation of scholarship! Give a teacher an apple for crying out loud.

Along with apple-bequeathal, Kellen and I have had many other adventures here at Southern. We recently ventured into a magical land...called Narnia. Ever heard of it?

On arriving at the Strand London train station, also known as the Honeycutt Student Center, we somehow found ourselves in a dark wardrobe packed full with a bundle of heavy winter coats. A memory arose that was so poignant and so faint, it caused our pounding hearts to wonder. Could we be on our way to...no...those were children's stories! They couldn't possibly be true. Yet, a glimmer of light through the layers of heavy fabric and a whiff of evergreen and snow affirmed our deepest expectations! We were in Narnia!

Aslan must be on the move! 

Southern, in all it's Narnian beauty!

Mr. Tumnus, who rightly asked me if I was a daughter of Eve.

Turkish Delight...which I, of course, denied. Kellen, on the other
hand fell prey to the schemes of the White Witch!

The Stone Table...and some children who obviously do not
realize the significance.

In all actuality, we did not go to the Narnia (for those of you who might have been fooled by my detailed retelling). Southern obviously has no restraints when it comes to their Fall Festival. Everything was Narnian-themed, even down to the meal distribution! And it was all free...free! They even provided a live jousting tournament for entertainment. Needless to say, the evening really was magical.

Magical...that would describe Southern Seminary in general. Comparing it to Narnia is quite appropriate.  There is something in the air here. You can feel it's presence while in class. You can hear it in the voices of the professors. You can see it radiating in the eyes of fellow students. This nameless something, this magical beauty, is the double love of God and man. We have caught a glimpse of it's bestowal in God's grand story--a narrative that began at creation and is still being told in us. This story has caught us, changed us, humbled us and whetted our desire to be a part of it's fierce and lovely realness.

In light of this, we keep on, Kellen, changing oil and tutoring students, and me, pulling shots and making coffee. We keep on reading books and writing papers. We keep on taking Bailey on walks and enjoying nature. We keep on seeking to love our peers and customers and each other. We keep on trying to live in faith, believing that God is good and worthy of our worship. We keep on in thankfulness for life and for the opportunity we have to learn. We keep on with all the other daily practices and fortuitous happenings, all the while growing increasingly more aware that there really is a magical land awaiting us; a land filled with an endless supply of season-ripe apples, that never loose their Autumn-like crunch.

The cobblestone street I bike down on my
way home from work 

The sun beginning to set over Cherokee Park

sharing

Sarah take me by my arm,

tomorrow we are Canaan-bound

where westward sails the golden sun

and Hebron's hills are amber crowned

So, bid your troubled heart be still

the grass they say is soft and green

the trees are tall and honey-filled

so Sarah come and walk with me...

...I trembled at the voice of God

a voice of love and thunder deep

with love he means to save us all

and love has chosen you and me

Long after we are dead and gone

for a thousand years our tale be sung

how faith compelled and bore us on

how barren Sarah bore a son

come to Canaan, come

Andrew Peterson's music and words have played an instrumental role in Kellen and my love since the beginning. He is a spiritual father to us in a way, beckoning us to more deeply enter into the double love of God and one another. I think we listened to Carried Along constantly when it came out, falling more in love with each play, and every succeeding album has been just the same. His music has met us in different places, many times when we weren't together, and the sound reminded us of our longing for one another. It is something we shared and still share.

I can't listen to Hold Up My Arms without remembering the time Kellen wrote me the lyrics in a birthday card when I was sixteen, or the song Coins without thinking of our first date to see Andy in Rome, GA. I still can feel the overwhelming joy we shared the first time we saw Behold the Lamb at the Ryman in Nashville now seven years ago. Sharing something that beautiful changes you and binds you. Now tonight, in Louisville, we get to experience for approximately the 24th time, the music and story-telling of Andrew Peterson.

I guess our love for AP is kind of silly. It is something we cannot necessarily explain, but understand together because we have shared it for so long. Aren't the greatest things in life, when shared with someone else, silly and simple, but pure? I don't mean pure in an moralistic way, I mean it with the notion of being real and true. AP's music opens our eyes to the wonder of God that words cannot contain and his lyrics succinctly articulate that which we could otherwise not speak.

"How faith compelled and bore us on..." These words resonate so deeply within me, as they do in Kellen, especially over the past few weeks. We were taking our nightly walk about a week ago and casually he started humming the tune. I about exploded! What a perfect "theme song" (I'm such a nerd) for this season in our life.  Like Abraham and Sarah, Yahweh is calling all of us to the Divine Plane of deep, abiding faith. The greatest part is that the assurance of Canaan still holds, for all the promises of God find their YES is Christ Jesus (2 Cor 1)! Knowing Christ and following Him is our Canaan!

Another thing we recently shared is some visitors from the motherland.

Lara, Abby and Jackie

Having these three beautiful guests in our apartment, delighted us to the core. We ate yummy food, dared to venture into many of the weird shops of Louisville, endured the last heat of the summer, and enjoyed our Maker's beauty together: in friendship and nature. What a blessing to have such dear friends that would make the trip to bring us the gift familiarity and love (not to mention an amazing, vintage, illustrated copy of Wind in the Willows--these girls are so thoughtful)!

Abe: how could KY not be proud of bringing forth such a man?

Jeeks and Rala got soaked from head to toe playing in the splash park--
in their dresses. I love their child-like hearts!

We celebrated Jeeksies 18th birthday! The candles got a bit hazardous, but
 the smoke alarm did not go off (this time)!!

Tree-climbing at our picnic

Cinnamon rolls before the flight home

Praise the Lord for all the lovely things in the world...and lovely people to share them with! Come to Canaan, come!

I just do want coffee....

And wouldn't you know just when I thought I had this figured out, well I'm back at my first day of school. Trying not to think to loud, raise my hand or scratch my head. No ideas for what to do. (Caedmon's Call)

I would define a successful day as one when I never so much as step into my car. Considering the only time I drove Chloe (my Xterra) over the past week was Friday to meet a friend at the University of Louisville, I would say this has been an extra successful week! We walk to class, ride our bikes to church and I ride my bike to work (up a cobblestone street, I might add). That is a major benefit of living in the city--especially living on campus--we can travel light.

Another glorious thing about Louisville is the beautiful hardwoods, the rolling hills and the constant breeze. At least twice a week we take Bailey to "Windy Willow Way" to let her run around while we study.

All the essentials for an afternoon of studying: iPod, multiple devotionals,  journals,
any writing utensil you can imagine, fruit juice, crazy creek, notebook, and textbooks  (I guess)

And of course, some Wendell Berry, just in case you finish the 200+
pages of homework...(thanks for letting me use this book, Kristin!)

Despite the joys and beauties of this great city, and despite our absolute love for Southern--professors, classes, and all it stands for--I never realized how humbling it can be to live in an entirely new place.

When your car is running low on gas (which has only happened once thus far!) and you have not the slightest inclination where the closest Kroger Fuel station is (I mean, you can't just go to any gas station when you know you have 10 cents off waiting for you!) it can be quite humbling.

When someone invites you over for dinner and you and your husband enthusiastically and immediately shout "YES" at the same time because you are both so desperate for friendship (and a free meal) it can be quite humbling.

When you've been a Christian for a long time and, in light of a deep look at the New Testament, realize how much you don't know, it can be quite humbling.

When you are thrust into a new job, trying to memorize 15 different coffee blend details, learning how to pull the perfect shots of espresso while trying to get just enough oxygen in the 2 percent...or was it skim...or soy....milk to make the right amount of micro-foam to put into a hundred different drinks, and messing it up, again, it can be quite humbling.

When the 21C culture is telling you that by your age you should have a career, be established with a home, making money and you realize you are back in school, unsure of the next step much less than a "career" path, it can be quite humbling.

My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior...He has shown strength with His arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts; he has brought down the mighty from their thrones and exalted those of humble estate; he has filled the hungry with good things! (the Magnificat, Luke 1:46, 51-53)

We need this! We need to be humbled! The Lord knows we so easily put our hope in ourselves or in the things of this world, and so he replaces our pride and confidence with desperation and need of Him and Him alone. Pray that we would learn this! Pray that we would learn to trust Him and abide in Him to meet our needs.

The first time I brought Quinn to my yoga class back in Peachtree City, Kathy (our amazing instructor) told her that "yoga begins with humility". The first day of Greek class with Dr. Vickers, he begins by assuring us, "Greek will humble you". And last Thursday in New Testament with Dr. Pennington, when guiding us through some complex issues of the Gospels, he expressed to us with absolute conviction and a sincere compassion, that we "must come to the text with a humble spirit."

It is good to be humbled. I am so thankful that we "have no ideas of what to do". For we are literally following our Pillar of Fire every step of the way.

Our trip to the waterfront

The muddy Ohio

In 1937 the Ohio rose higher than this pillar and flooded all of Louisville.
This is the same flood that Berry mentions in Jayber Crow.

Kellen's talent

Yoga IS humbling. I thought my bridge was much better than that!

A perfect anniversary gift from our Maker.

May the Lord's grace and peace be yours in Christ Jesus. We love you all.