Happy Birthday, LOVE!

Happy Birthday, to best man I know!
While you are leaving your perfect Jesus year behind, (33)
I think you age like a fine wine!
Thirty four will most definitely not be a bore.

Thanks for adding deep creativity, bold determination, daily adventure, sweet grace and endless perspective to our lives.

I hope and pray that you know not only by my words, but also by my deeds, that I celebrate you everyday inside and out!

You are home to me,
~Siba

(endless perspective)

(deep creativity)

(bold determination)

(sweet grace)

(daily adventure)

Unfinished

I was doing the final inventory on our house in Kansas. I was checking my moving lists, reconfirming our hotels, and zipping up suitcases when I found this book laying on my suitcase. I didn't even have to wonder who the book was from. The Hall's love language is books. And the founder and chief of our love is our Dad. You want to win our hearts over? Books. Come into any of our homes and books are every.where. It's our inheritance.

 I read the titled and started crying. Here is the book cover synopsis, "Two thousand years ago Jesus gave an urgent assignment to his followers right before he left.  At its essence it was not just an invitation to believe: it was a bold call to action. It was a challenge to go into the world to reclaim, reform, and restore it for Christ. Simply stated, the message of this book is that God has invited each of us to join him in this world-changing mission. And if you are not personally participating in God's great endeavor, you could be missing the very thing he created you to do."

If you know anything about my Dad you should know that the man is so passionate about the gospel and taking it to the world. My Dad lights up when he starts talking about all the nations of the world being changed by Jesus. The hardest I have ever seen my Dad weep is when he spoke of abused girls being pulled out of sex slavery and redeemed by the gospel. Girls that were the same ages as his five granddaughters. Want to see Clint Hall, fired up? Ask the man how he is spending his days in "retirement" and he will not shy away from telling you. You cannot listen to his stories without believing that our personal work and the work as Christ's bride is still unfinished. You cannot listen to his stories and walk away unchanged. I hang up the phone with my Dad and I am ready to pack my bags and head for the Congo, or at least an OM Ship, or maybe just the dishes with a new passion. :)

There has been a reoccurring theme in my life the last two years and everywhere I turn the Lord is reconfirming the message. Whether it is has been through our experience at Woodland Ridge that marked our hearts forever, or women's bible studies, sermons, worship songs, personal study, intimate conversations between Mark and I, it keeps showing up on my heart. And I am all, "I get it God, I get it!"

The message?

"Seek out the broken. Find them. Run to them. Set aside all the selfishness and excess in your life (very much revealed to me in our study of  '7' by Jen Hatmaker) and by MY power cover yourself in the messiness of others. Sara, stop being comfortable stuck in the muck of the American dream."

News flash: we are not called to put all of our energy and resources into living out the American dream.

OOOOUUUUUUCCCCCCHHHHHH!!!

Oh, I wish I could dive into the 12 step plan God has given our family on how to do this. I wish I could have a whole blog series on how we are putting feet on that in our family. I cannot. Not yet :)

I can tell you some verses that our taking root in our hearts. Verses that are waking me up at night. Verses that are begging me to dig deeper in order to see how they are to play themselves out in our daily lives.

James 1: 26 & 27 ~ Anyone who sets himself up as "religious" by talking a good game is self-deceived. This kind of religion is hot air and only hot air. Real religion, the kind that passes muster before God the Father, is this: Reach out to the homeless and loveless in their plight, and guard against corruption from a godless world.

Psalm 68: 5 & 6 ~ A father of the fatherless and an advocate for the widows, God makes a home for the lonely; He leads out the prisoners into prosperity.

Mark 14:7 ~ You will always have the poor with you, and whenever you wish you can do good to them.

Isaiah 58: 6-9 Paraphrased by yours truly, "You thought fasting just required you to fast from food. You went through the motions, but your heart was a million miles from me. Instead, this is the fast I want you to do; loosen the bonds of wickedness, undo the bands of the yoke, let oppressed go free, take your food and feed those that are hungry. Bring homeless, broken, people into YOUR home, cover those who are naked, and do not keep being comfortable stuck in the muck of the American dream. Expose yourself, inquire after painful, heart wrenching circumstances. And THEN you will find Me, your God, your Father. You will know my glory."

Oh friends, I am the not same. We are not the same. Our hearts are yearning for what God has for us each day. We are unfinished in every way. It only takes looking into a mirror (or trying to get a family photo) that reveals the brokenness right under our roof.

We want Jesus. More of Him, less of us.

As every good Hall does, my Dad signed the book he gave us; "This book is a great reminder of what all of us are to be about doing wherever God sends us. You go to Mississippi with my blessing and "let your light shine for all the world to see!"

Unfinished,
~Sara

Amelia Bedelia and Jesus

I love the blossoming ability of a child who is learning to read. They begin to uncover a whole other world, find characters they fall in love with and understand, explore places maybe they'll never travel too, and build sweet companionship with that mysterious haven our souls drift to when we unlock reading.

Julia has recently discovered Amelia Bedelia. Yesterday, she could hardly get her back pack off before she was reading me excerpts from the book. We were both laughing so hard at all the silly 'mistakes' Amelia was making. If you have never read these FANTASTIC stories by Peggy Parish, get up now, go to the local library and get you some. I don't care if you are eight or eighty eight. Amelia Bedelia makes everything better.

Amelia Bedelia is a house maid for the Rogers, a wealthy couple with lots of instructions. In last night's story, Amelia was instructed to "dust the furniture". What did Amelia Bedelia do? Well, of course, she grabbed some baby powder and 'dusted' every piece of furniture by spreading powder all over. She was also told to "change the towels". So Amelia grabbed some scissors and changed the towels until they were unrecognizable. Then Amelia was asked to draw the drapes. So out comes an easel and a picture of the drapes is drawn. Our favorite part that had Julia rolling on the floor, was when Amelia was told to "dress the chicken". Amelia found a fantastic pair of overalls and dressed that chicken to the nines. :)

I could feel it in Julia's tone, she was connecting with the character of Amelia Bedelia. It was cathartic for her to laugh at all the misinterpretations of the given instructions.

Hmmmm... misinterpretations of given instructions. How much of our journey with the Lord Jesus is a misinterpretation of given instructions? How often are we making this pilgrimage far more difficult than necessary? Why do we increase the load of our own brokenness, and other's brokenness, by interjecting a laundry list of man made rules to follow? How many pages after Revelation 22:21, have we added to the pure, undefiled, gospel of Jesus Christ?

John 15, has been marinating in my heart this week. In addition to redeemed, I could totally see myself getting a tattoo that said abide. Not only am I crazy about the letters used in this word, the way the curves and lines speak to my eyes, but I love, ADORE, cannot get enough of, what this word means! Hear this, let this sink deep down into the performance based lies that dwell in your 'be good, do good' heart file folders.

Abide; remain, accept, bear patiently, stick to, stand by.

So now, John 15:4, "Abide in me!" I love this invitation. I get chills at this flirtatious request to just come and be in the presence of the Almighty God of the Universe. The King of Kings, is whispering sweet nothings to our screwed up hearts. He is tirelessly running after us in order for us to gain from simply remaining, unequivocally accepting who He says He is, sticking with Him, standing in close quarters with a fearless warrior who pursues His people and fights their battles!!

We are not called to spin our wheels, run a muck by unsuccessfully pruning our outsides to be appealing; while we die on the inside because we've detached ourselves from the source of life. Pruning is HIS work in our lives, as we remain in close relationship with Him. Oh, and we aren't called to prune each other with hurtful sheers, God forbid we get out of the way and let God do His work in His people. He is the master pruner. His touch is neither too hard or too soft. He sees what needs to be trimmed by the perfectly, gracious, and just eyes He looks through. His sight far surpasses my broken vision of myself and others.

How much baby powder and strife have you dumped unnecessarily in the living room of your life? How many shredded towels and relationships lay at your feet because you wanted change? How many easels and plans have collapsed in your life because you want to be in charge of the drawing? And how many pairs of overalls and self help techniques have you wasted on dressing up the chickens in your life?

Do you hear it in His tone? Close your eyes and let it penetrate the raw edges of your day, "ABIDE IN ME!" That's it. Everything else is stripped away and we are found right where we should be; stuck like glue to Jesus.

To all the Amelia Bedelias out there ~ God speed. :)

~Sara

A Different Type of Hangover

Here at Ljlife&literature, we have celebrated commiserated the first work day after each holiday by declaring it "holiday hangover day". It does not refer to the type of hangover some might deduce it to meaning, rather the long day that seems to emerge after a holiday, (particularly, this was an ongoing joke with my home school friends and SAHMs). We texted each other, we emailed each other, we blogged about the the way our children, our schooling, and our homes seemed to spiral out.of.control. on this day. (*clause* I am not intentionally leaving out people who work outside of their homes. I have not worked outside my home in ten years, so I do not know your 'holiday hangover' experiences, but I KNOW that they DO exist! I only try to speak out of my own personal experiences and not presume on yours!)

Any to the who~ after ten years of 'holiday hangovers' today I was almost jolted by the different hang over that clouded my little heart. I sent my wee babes to school early (early for me who likes to start the day around 9 :). AJ and I ate breakfast, lollygagged to bible study, read some of our favorite literature, cooked lunch, took a nap, rode bikes, picked up sisters from school and began the new mad sprint between 3-8. It is now approximately 8:02 and my husband and 3 smallest children are passed out (they too felt the side effects of holiday hangover day, or a work out with Scott Barlow :)..

Today, I ached for my kids (for my girls; obviously Anderson doesn't leave my side :). Like this very familiar ache of grieving something that is dead. Something between us has died. My days with them, in the confines of the sweet paced home school life has almost vanished. While, my role as their teacher will never die, this moment seems to have passed far too quickly. Like, we arrived here in MS and a few short days later I sent them off to school, neither having the time or space to process this new death in our lives.

I loved homeschooling. Not every second of every day. Not everyday for 5 years... Oh, this home school professor locked herself in her bathroom and sobbed her eyes out because sometimes I was D.O.N.E. Home schooling can be intense, especially when you start throwing in a lot of different grade levels.  I love my kids, with every ounce of energy this 30 something body can process, but I also knew in my core, WE knew in OUR core, it was time for them to go to school.

And so today was day 18 of school, and my first holiday hang over day without them. I spent most of it in tears and prayers for all the people with my girls, because deep down I knew how those teachers were feeling. I've tried to motivate my kids after a holiday weekend and it's draining. Multiple that by a classroom full of kids, and I was on my knees. At midnight, I had this totally southern inclination to bake some 'happys' for the teachers, tie some ribbon around a tote, and send a little note saying, 'Happy Hangover Day!' Then, I envisioned a phone call from DHS with some raised eye brows and a few harsh  (Julia's vocab word for the week) questions. Oh, the 'Christian Concern' I would spark :) Instead, I prayed for those really amazing teachers. And I hugged those precious girls so tightly when they emerged from the school building. The 3-8 o'clock sprint felt like heaven. I listened to every story, I signed papers like a boss ( Jen Hatmaker steal), I was attentive, alert, overly energized, and knocked homework out of this dry county.

Eighteen days later, and we are unbelievably grateful for the people who are pouring into our kids lives. Has it been a road of pink colored roses? No. (Is it ever, btw?) Have we already seen some incredible growth in our girls? UM YES!! Has this retired professor seen some really meaty things come from it in her own life? Yes, praise Jesus, YES!! Has homeschool died forever in the LJ house, we never say never here. But for this season, we are CHARGING (yes, it is a play on words) ahead.

So for all you teachers out there, if you every receive a little 'happy' from me with "Happy Holiday Hang Over" written in perfect calligraphy, please don't report me, just eat the baked good and know you are deeply appreciated!

Cheers, to a new 'holiday hangover'!

~Sara

Adapting to Adagio

Adagio is a musical tempo for slow and stately (literally, *at ease*). One of the reason we enjoy rural Mississippi is because we can find that *at ease* tempo again. One does not just adapt to the adagio lifestyle over night. The first time I moved to rural Mississippi was nine months after Mark and I married, and I unfortunately down spiraled into depression. It was a multi-layered down spiral, living in the middle of no where wasn't the only reason I struggled, but it definitely was a contributing factor. It took three summers in Mississippi, seven full years in Mississippi, and two years in rural Virginia for me to finally "adapt" to adagio. When we moved back to Kansas City, I had no idea that I would have to adjust to city life again. I grew up in the city. I was a city girl. The city was coming home. I loved the city. I loved the life that poured out from city streets. I loved the hustle and bustle. Everything was so close. Everything was at your fingertips, so there was always some where to go and always something to do. I will always love the city, but some where deep inside I began to crave the stillness. I began to crave the quiet.

It is quiet here. There is much stillness to be found here. And I am very grateful!

I haven't shown many pictures of our perfectly, beautiful, house because we are just taking our sweet time getting settled. I figure if we are going to live here for the rest of our lives, I've got some time to figure out where I want things to go :) It's all apart of embracing the adagio for me. Typically, I would be going mad with unpacked boxes stacked in the living room still, but like I said in this post, there are WAY more important things for me to be investing my energy in right now, (i.e. SURVIVING).

Here is a little glimpse out our bedroom window. I love it. The trees kind of bend to an adagio melody while the slight breeze whispers, "stillness".

Although our house is no cover of Southern Living, y'all come see us anytime and embrace your own adagio!

~Sara

picture from cooperpiano.com

Ten or Tin?

In 1939, the Tin Man set out on an adventure to hunt for what he thought was the missing piece in his life, "I'd be gentle and sentimental, if I only had a heart!"

Today, our first born child, turns tin TEN!! When I think about her and all that the Lord has created her to be, first and foremost, I see this amazingly huge heart that just explodes out from her body. If you have ever been with Katie, then you know exactly what I am talking about. Most of the time she is more intuitive than people three times her age, she sees situations through the lens of gentle and sentimental. She represents every sweet and savory thing a ten year old should be.

There are days Mark looks at me and says, " I really feel like we are done parenting Katie, not that she doesn't need us for the rest of her life, but she pretty much already gets everything we were trying to get her to embrace."

On December 25th 2002, my mom had the high privilege of reading this poem to her entire family as a way of surprising them with the news that we were pregnant. Katie was the first grandchild on both sides of the family, and the first in her generation on my mom's side of the family; spoiled was an understatement. If you have journeyed with us for any amount of time you know why this poem is even more special to me today than ever before.

Mom reading the poem...

Twas the Night Before Christmas

by Zach Hall

Twas the night before Christmas

There was no one to see

Except a lovely woman

We call her Valerie.

Val slept in her bed

All curled up with cheer

With visions of Brian and Wayne

Sipping on their beer.

Christmas was here

And Val could not wait

To see Mark and Sara

And pinch their cute little face.

She jumped out of bed

And ran down the stairs

To find Mark and Sara

Sitting on their chairs.

Val jumped and she screamed

This Christmas was bright

Now that her kids were here

Everything would be alright.

Mark sat on Val's lap

She kissed his little face

They hugged and they laughed

It was a nice Christmas embrace.

He said to her quietly,

"As your only son-in-law,

I would like to congratulate you,

Sara and I have made you into a Grandma!"

In true Fry fashion the room erupted into tears and yelling immediately. The promise of a baby was too much. Katie has lived up to her promise in every way plus so much more.

In search of pictures, I dug out all five of the boxes labeled "Picture Albums" and of course after an hour of searching I could not find Katie's first baby album :( It's probably in a box labeled 'misc stuff' :)  So I tried my best to gather some pictures of the last tin TEN years....

Katie,

It pretty much takes our breath away that you are turning TEN YEARS OLD TODAY! An entire decade of exploring one of the most precious creatures this world has ever been given. You never cease to surprise us with your thoughtfulness, your diligence, your desire for excellence in every area of your life, and most importantly the way you exhibit Jesus every day in word and in deed. You have taught your daddy and I more than we will ever be able to teach you. We are proud of you. We are blessed by you. We enjoy you. You make us laugh. You make us smile. You keep us on schedule, and on our toes. You bring a touch of sweetness to every person and every situation you come in contact with. We are unendingly grateful that you are our daughter.

We love you!

~Mama and Daddy

Grammy with Katie in the hospital

18 months old. Aunt Jo and Uncle Matt's wedding

Two years old at the beach

Welcoming Julia home (26 months)

Easter 2006 (32 months)

First birthday

3 months old

11 months old

11 months old

16 months old... Some of the men in her life!