The beauty of new fingerprints

We had out ultrasound on Thursday evening.  I had a lot of nerves leading into the day, but that afternoon I was overcome with calm and resolve that everything would turn out well.  (Probably not me, probably God that helped to calm me down so I could feel the joy.  Okay, let's just agree that it was Him.  Moving on...).

Before I could really think about it, T and I were walking into the ultrasound room.  The technician was really good at her job.  She was calm, kind, and soothing.  And, there was the baby!  Instantly, on the screen.  He/she was moving around a lot.  My favorite part was the heart.  There's just something so surreal and beautiful to the core to see that little heart, with all four chambers, pumping blood through that little body.

After a tear trickled down and I looked at my husband's entranced loving face, I was surprisingly moved by the hands of that little person.  They haven't touched anything yet, but they already have fingerprints.  The brain has just recently learned how to let that body move and squirm and function, but the fingers already have fingerprints?!  That's the extravagance of the beauty of His world... the extras, the over-the-top details.  Like the colors of sunsets (that's the more celebrated cliche extra beauty of the world).  Or, the birds nests that are revealed, perfectly formed, in the highest branches of the trees when all the leaves fall every Autumn.  Or the orange amber glow of the embers in our fireplace at the end of a cold night.

Or, to imagine the beauty those new hands will create.

Or, the fact that these little hands might look like mine, or my grandma's, or my husband's.  Or my husband's great great grandfather.  We won't even know all the beauty.  There's just too much.  But, here's to our hearty attempt to take it all in...

May you have eyes to see the beauty.  --Meg Tess

past small little prickly past fears-- pie crust

I have never made a pie crust from scratch.  Mostly because I just thought it wouldn't turn out well.  And, because I ran out of time and skimped on the crust.  I bought store bought crust, rolled it out, and walah!, a mediocre pie!

Last night we had four couples over for one of our first real dinner parties.  We were a great team, and even though time was crunched in the hour before guests arrived, this time I prioritized.  We had purchased a lovely large glass jar of strawberry rhubarb pie filling when we were in Door County.  Being the food hoarder I am (mostly with specialty items... I save them for so long we forget about them or they go bad), I waited until last night to make the planned pie.

It was a success!  I used my friend Sarah's pie crust recipe, and with my kitchen-aid mixer and strong resolve to push past this weird little prickly past fear, I was a successful pie maker!  The crust was thick and delectable.  And our guests really liked the pie!  I added leaf cut-outs along the rim and in the middle in a little flower application.  Using a simple crumble topping made of brown sugar, flower, and butter, I created the perfect textures for the filling.  And it didn't burn!  And I liked it myself!

Good bye to stupid little limits we set on ourselves.  What are your prickly past fears that YOU have foraged through?

May you have eyes to see the beauty. -- Meg Tess

Grace Happens

I saw this bumper sticker on the car next to me when I pulled in for work today.  It's a great reminder, good inspiration, and not too pushy.  It inspired me and made me smile.  Grace doesn't stop, even when our energy or optimism does.

The sticker is forest green and peely and has an out of date font.  And I don't prefer bumper stickers.  But it's beautiful!

settling into the place that is plan

From my pinterest "fabric flowers" board.  Follow thru name: revealthebeauty.

I'm a planner.  I'm preggers (16 1/2 weeks along), and when people ask if we're going to find out the sex of the child, I hem and haw on purpose to get them to tell me their opinion.  I've concluded that most people consider themselves "planners."

    "Well, I don't know.  I mean, there are advantages for us.  I'm not sure," I sigh, looking to the ceiling, inviting opinion.
    She says, almost in a self-defeating tone, "Yeah, I'm just such a planner so I found out."

    A few people have given the ol', "You know, we really feel like there are so few surprises left in life!  But I understand that you and T are such planners.  I know you'll want to paint a pink or blue nursery and have everything in place."

Maybe you can sense my opinion.  I want to find out.  But, it's not really just because I'm a "planner" in a striving need everything perfect beforehand way.  That's old news.  Striving is wasteful and really not what we are made to do.  That's the misconception of planning, the dangerous detour it can take into "perfect world."  Perfection is the enemy.  I want a little focus to my imagining this new person, calling out his or her name in my imagination.  Sitting in a planning mode, wandering around in wonder about this little boy or girl.

The place of planning is really quite lovely if you concentrate on the beauty of your mind and soul to imagine.  It's a location, a state of being, not a time of list-making and expectation-growing that will lead to "I'm not good enough"s and "there's never enough hours in the day"ing.  It may even be the most phenomenal and powerful act of a human being.

I got to sit in the peace that is the planning mind this morning.  This morning I got to sleep in.  Like, really sleep in.  With absolutely no agenda.  I drank tea with milk and sugar, two oreos, three prunes, a stick of string cheese and two bites of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  So random.  So lovely. [Let's be completely transparent here-- I feel the pressure of things I need to accomplish today-- but I turned them off until noon.  I have four minutes left as of this sentence.]  And, this is the place of planning that is most freeing and lovely.  My mind, given freedom and space and warding off rabbit-trails of worry, has conjured many images and ideas that I wouldn't have frequented were I up and about on an agenda today.

Here are the images I've relished and sat in for seconds this morning, while waking, slowly, and drifting again, turning over to get comfortable, or turning the page of a magazine, typing in new search terms on my iphone with certain ideas...
{The baby inside of me is the size of a turnip this week.  I shall buy a turnip to understand.  I have not yet befriended this vegetable.  I'm feeling lots of little flutters now.  I love the term "quickening."  Poem idea.} [I will cut some of the lovely pinkish green drying hydrangeas from the bush out front and make two birthday bouquets with them for my friends Jay and Mallory.]  {A good project for Christmas break: install the dark wood Martha Stewart closet organizers in the master closet and hang the beige nursery closet organizer ($25 at Walmart!) in the "nursery"}  [Blog about decorating home for Fall.]  {Dinner party idea: cut centers of turnips (not the one I need for fetus visual aid) and cabbage for candles and dips, respectively-- idea from November Martha Stewart Living.}  [Perhaps I could paint the cabinet in my bathroom a pretty light mossy green and help it to feel shabby chic, instead of just shabby with pretty accessories on the counter.]  {This weekend would be a great time to make a double batch of italian chicken vegetable soup-- good for T's vegetable intake, and helpful to keep me eating healthy in in-between moments of hunger, which is changing to a perpetual issue.  My appetite is officially back in action.} [Pita Pit sounds good.  mmm hummus.]  {Must buy new journal.  Today.}  [Looking forward to hanging wood vintage skis over the mantel this year for Winter styling-- what a good idea, husby.]  {I'll get some new gold nail polish and write the prophetic word down for that girl at church who I "saw" as having the gold of encouragement coming out of her fingertips.}  [I wonder if I can be sneaky and schedule a massage for T one day this week.  His back is really hurting him, even though he doesn't really talk about it.  I should really get one, too.]  {Burlap wreath!  I will finish you today!  Yes.  So, I'll stop by Hobby Lobby to get the felt for the fabric flowers and make the dinner party invites with those supplies.  Need stamps.  Where is the post office?}

I've allowed for a place of planning to be a fun process, back into the creative image of my creator.  In the image.  Of creation, of creating, of planning.  So yeah, I want to know if we're welcoming a little boy or little girl into the world so I can sit in moments of imagination and plan.  It the ethereal sense of the positive imaginative process planning should be.