{ Resurrection Sunday }

When it comes to Easter, it seems that Mike and I are well on our way to making a tradition of changing things up.

Easter 2008: This was a few weeks before we started dating; Mike spontaneously got baptized at church {he'd been baptized as a young boy, so this was more of a reaffirmation of faith}, I briefly met his parents for the first time, and we had a potluck dinner with a huge group of church friends.

2009: Right around the time we got engaged, I honestly don't remember what we did...I assume spent the day at church and with Mike's family.

2010: We visited my family in Idaho. Mike fell deathly sick Easter morning, barely surviving the post-sunrise-service breakfast, and spent most of the day in bed. I remember games and lots of laughter--crying and gasping and sides burning laughter--with my parents, brothers, and their friends...in between tending to poor sick Mike.

In 2011 our church rented Qwest Field in downtown Seattle for Easter. My parents and two of my brothers spent the weekend with us, so our tiny two-bedroom home was packed to the brim! We toured Boeing, went to the tulip fields, visited the Museum of Flight, and had a post-church potluck at Amaryah's apartment building in dowtown Seattle.

Last year, my brother got married--in central Oregon--the day before Easter. On Sunday morning, Mike and I went to the early service at a little church in Bend and spent the rest of the day driving home.

This year, Mike helped with setup and teardown at church. I got up early with him and we shared coffee and Rhodes cinnamon rolls. Should I feel guilty that the only time my family gets cinnamon rolls is when they are from the freezer section? I have never made them from scratch. I come from a long line of from-scratch bakers and cooks, and yet I don't feel guilty that I buy frozen cinnamon rolls. It makes me a little uneasy that I don't feel guilty. But when you realize how good they taste, that they bake in only 30 minutes flat, and that the time you'd spend making them from scratch probably makes the commercial version cheaper...well, Rhodes gets my vote. ;-)

I didn't realize it until after choosing our outfits, but Lainie and I totally matched. We met up with Mike at church and had our picture taken at the photobooth. {A somewhat embarrassing side note: I also realized that I wore the same dress for Easter five years ago. I told Mike, and he said, "Small world." I retorted, "No, it's more like small wardrobe!"}

Pastor Scott asked Mike to do baptisms with him after the service. It was amazing to realize that, on Easter five years ago, Mike got baptized...and now, five years later, he's in the dunk tank as one of the baptizers.

 

Here are Mo and I with our babies. Cracks me up because Lainie and I look HUGE compared to Mo and Josiah. I'll have you know that we are the same height, I'm just wearing 4" heels. And the babies? Well, Lainie does have six months on Josiah...

 

We are going to miss Scott and Mo so much when they move to Texas to plant a church!!

 

I can't wait to see what we're up to next year...maybe Easter in Texas?

{ Thanksgiving }

Why is it that I always neglect to take pictures on holidays? Next time, it will not happen. I promise! We're going to Idaho to spend Christmas with my family for the first time since we got married--it will be the first time Mike hasn't spent Christmas with his family. Eeeeek! I'm just a little excited! I haven't been back during the winter since 2008, so this is long overdue! It's so different, being in the country, surrounded by snow {hopefully}, woodsmoke in the air. It's so still. So.....different from Christmas in the city. I'm excited to experience it with Mike.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. *ahem* Back to Thanksgiving, which was almost a week ago. As I was saying, not many photos were taken, and all of them contain only three subjects: Mike, his sister Amaryah, and me. *ahem* Apparently we're a little narcissistic....but I'll let you judge for yourself:

Mike and Amaryah goofing off

"Get your head closer to Nikki's!"

"Good...but this time smile."

Oh yes, I married a handsome man.

"OK Amaryah, now it's YOUR turn to get your head closer to Nikki's..."

I have a lot of cute, full-length aprons, and it's become something of a tradition for me to bring my aprons for all to use when we have big family dinners. Mike is always in charge of carving the turkey on Thanksgiving, and since he was dressed up, I offered him an apron. Here's the amazing part: He took it. It must be a testament to his fondness for the vest, I think. Regardless, this moment required documentation.

I tried to be sneaky, knowing Mike would not want himself wearing an apron to be documented photographically.

Apparently not sneaky enough...

Success!! {I think you look great, babe.}

We had Thanksgiving at Mike's parents' house, the only place sort of big enough to accommodate the extended family...and it was a tight squeeze! There was so much delicious food; lots of laughter; a very efficient dishwashing brigade; and then, when you were just beginning to think that maybe you're comfortably {instead of uncomfortably} full, there was dessert. Oi vey!

We have so much to be thankful for: A home. Mike's job. Functional cars. Good health. New insurance for both of us. Family nearby. Friends, near and far. In spite of the unexpected nature of my job loss last month, we are in a really good place, in so many ways, and for that I can only say, Thank you Jesus!

{ Independence Day }

~ Howarth Park in Everett with my sweetie--second time I've been there and his first ~

~ jammin' to the live music before the fireworks display in Edmonds ~

~ my first pair of skinny jeans ~

~ friends ~

note: all Edmonds pics {except the one of Mike} taken by sweet friend Megan and Big Girl Camera :-)

{ Letting go of Perfect }

Crucifix on the wall of a patient room in the hospital where I work

I am always amazed when God meets me exactly where I am. When He talks the broken pieces of today and uses them to make something beautiful. When He sometimes breaks what I think is whole (or ought to be whole) and creates a new pattern. When He stops me in my tracks and gently turns me back to Him. It doesn't always seem gentle, but given the alternative of continuing hard-heartedly away from Him, even the severest of His mercies is still that: Mercy.

To say I'm a perfectionist is an understatement. To say that I physically don't handle stress well is also an understatement. I am slowly wrapping my head around the fact that "perfect" is an idol I choose to worship, instead of Jesus. "Slowly" because I am stubborn and set in my ways. The fact that I am cognizant of this thwarted worship in my life at all is purely God's grace--God's grace in the form of a body that can't take it any more. His severe mercy that brings me to my knees, which is exactly where I ought to be: worshiping Jesus and not "perfect."

A couple of days ago I was doing an echocardiogram on a patient, as is my wont Monday through Friday. I was on call, still working when I wanted to be home making dinner. Because, in my "perfect" world, that is what I should have been doing, along with running several errands between work and dinner.

God interrupted my echo, bursting the focused-and-frustrated bubble I construct when my plans go awry. Somewhere in the parasternal short axis views, a scene came into my mind out of nowhere. I saw myself as a child, three years old maybe, clutching something like a snowglobe in both hands. Within the globe were images of my life now: Me at work, with Mike, our home and families. I don't know how to describe the next part. I didn't see God, but I knew that He was there and His goal was to pry my fingers off the globe. He wanted me to give my life, contained in that globe, to Him. He wanted to loosen my iron grip on my life, but I was deathly intent on keeping it in my hands, where I could maintain its safety and well-being.

Tears were suddenly smarting in my eyes. I'm sorry, Lord! my soul whispered. An abrupt rush of wonder and comprehension. I've turned this Christmas season into a rigid plan marching toward one goal: Perfection. Not Jesus. I've put so much value on getting everything "right" (which we all know means nothing less than utter flawlessness when I'm talking) that my actual reality is complete misery. Migraines. Acid reflux that leaves me flat on my back for hours because of the accompanying nausea. Self-induced busyness and anxiety. All sorts of delightful plans that are simply impossible--at least on the level I envision--because I work 40+ hours a week and it takes a lot of oomph to try to be Martha Stewart, Version II.

I'm letting go of the control I so dearly love. I'm loosening my grip because, in God's providence, I don't have much of a choice. I can't go on in my little hamster wheel. I'm not going to try to bake cookies for all 11 of our nearest condo neighbors and have them nicely decorated and ready to hand out by next weekend. I'm not going to throw a Christmas/housewarming party. I'm not going to try to read every single Advent devotional I've found on the internet. I'm not going to expect myself to be able to go full-throttle every single day between now and December 25. I'm going to let go of the perfect Christmas season I constructed in my head and enjoy the season God has chosen to give me, even though it's not shaping up to look like the one I'd planned.

The beauty is that in embracing the reality of Today, I don't miss the things that don't happen (or don't happen like I planned). As Jesus directs my path, I find unexpected gifts. Peace. Enjoying the moment. Laughter with my husband. A day of Christmas decorating that went in a direction I never dreamed of, but was oh-so-good in the end. The shattered pieces of my plans have been swept out in the trash...but the wholeness, beauty, and joy He gives in exchange are sweeter than anything I can imagine.

{ Thanksgiving 2009 }

Our first Thanksgiving as a married couple...in pictures!

We started the day with a tackle football game, a long-standing tradition for Mike and his buddies. I singlehandedly filled the role of cheerleader. I've never seen a live football game, or an entire televised game, and I admit utter defeat when it comes to understanding the rules. I would have been a serious hindrance to either team!

Damien sustained a pretty sizeable cut just above his eye. During the first play. This is why Nikki doesn't even watch football, let alone play it. This is also how I discovered that the first-aid kit in my car is the LAMEST excuse of a first-aid kit ever created: Approximately seven cotton balls, two thicknesses of gauze (like that is going to stop ANY bleeding, First Aid Kit Makers!!!), 30 band-aids that are all exactly the same size, and half a dozen little antiseptic wipes. It was all we had, though, so I bandaged him up as best I could. Look at that: playing tackle football, in Washington, in late November, barefoot. It started out with Damien taking his shoes off so he could take his pants off and use them to staunch the bloodflow above his eye (don't worry, he was wearing shorts underneath). Then he said he had better traction on the slick grass and mud with his bare feet. Jesse ended up barefoot, too. I tell you, guys are crazy. And they have the kind of circulation I can only dream of, as I drift off to sleep wearing socks year-round. (True story.)

At Mike's parents' house for dinner. Did I tell you I got my hair cut a few weeks ago?

With my mother-in-law Mandy's help, I made my first pie, the pecan one on the left. Isn't it pretty? It was delicious, too! (Shhhh, don't tell your teetotaling friends, but I added a little bourbon!)

Mike's sister Amaryah decided it was a good idea to put whipped cream on Mike's nose.

He returned the favor.

Handsome man loves whipped cream.

Cousin Stephanie and her cheery seven-month-old daughter, Estella.

Pictorial evidence of a teenage older sister multitasking: Stephanie's oldest daughter, Bethany, texting as she walked Estella to sleep.


I brought my knitting.

Amaryah attempting to help Mike "palm the floor." Turns out she's the only one in the family who can do it--I can barely touch!

How did you celebrate Thanksgiving?