I have loved using this sourdough pizza recipe often. If you already have a starter, it’s fairly simple and hands-off as long as you think of it ahead of time. It makes a shareable amount, especially if you double. Our favorite is sort of a “meat lovers” with red sauce, sausage, bacon, chicken, pepperoni and fresh basil leaves.
BOOK OF THE YEAR
Becoming Elisabeth Elliot gave my husband and I lots to talk about and set me on a trajectory to read more about and by Elisabeth. I boiled down my most impactful takeaway from the book in “For whom did you carry the rock?”
THRIFT OF THE YEAR
If I wrote and showed you everything I thrifted this year, I’d have to make this a full-time thrifting blog. But I think my two favorites were a lamp, lampshade, and this dress (which conveniently hides coffee stains).
FREE THING OF THE YEAR
A giant fiddle leaf fig. It seems to feel at home with us, though I heard a large leaf flutter to the floor today. Send non-fiddley energy and plant advice my way. It was so tall Luke had to play Mr. Willowby and trim off the top.
TEA PARTY OF THE YEAR
Well, there’s two tea parties of the year. One was the annual mother’s day tea with scones, pear/goat cheese sandwiches and lemon curd on our wood table in the back patio. Second, was when our sister in law could join us, which made the sister set complete!
VIEW OF THE YEAR
The cabin always takes the cake, but in order to not be redundant I’ll choose the one where we could see the cutout of Seattle and Mount Rainier in one scan. Washington, you are beautiful and rural and oceany, and mountain meadowy. Also, a shoutout to Kansas, you never disappoint with your predictable horizons and shimmering sunsets. I’ll let you guess which is where.
SONG OF THE YEAR
As someone blessed to be surrounded by THREE brown-eyed loves in my family, this song feels like mine.
“I didn’t know you’d have brown eyes Like to pray to Jesus, spendin’ Friday nights at home Didn’t know you’d be the strong kind Deeper than a coal mine lovin’ with a heart of gold
And you’re everything that I’m not, everything that I want There’s a God, and baby you’re proof In those brown eyes, I know that I got to find A better me for you.”
“My sheep hear my voice, and I know them.” Now imagine that in the voice of a 3 year old on repeat, eager to recite it at Cubbies. I’m sure this verse will always endear me, and I happen to be studying its full context, John 10, right now. How awesome that we have a Shepherd who knows us, who protects His sheep, offering abundant life in a green pasture. His sheep can weed out the stranger’s voice because of their intimacy with Him.
“When he puts forth all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. A stranger they simply will not follow, but will flee from him, because they do not know the voice of strangers.” John 10:4-5
It’s been a minute since I’ve been here, so I thought I’d take the time to write up the year. We won’t forget our 2024 for a number of reasons.
KITCHEN
Cooking in an updated kitchen – what a great way to pass The Long Winter. Luke moved the fridge, tore down part of a wall, and it presented an unbroken counter space (pictures at the end). Sourdough pizza, three-story sf cake, and Indian dahl (lentils) all emerged from it. We loved feeding people on our patio, especially our international friends from the local college.
CHURCH
Soon after Resurrection Sunday, our church merged with another. Luke jumped into a new-to-us ministry as an associate pastor, and we’ve loved the gift of many new sweet relationships. As I read through my prayer journal from a year ago, I’m so grateful for God’s clear faithfulness and leading. The church, in its brokenness, was HIS beautiful idea, and so it is with full confidence we can worship the Chief Cornerstone together, and take courage that He promised to build His church. Among the blessings is our life group who has been so lifegiving to us!
HOME
In April, Luke asked me to pray about finding a house closer to our church (in the bordering town). I wrote “new house?” on my prayer list and prayed a little dubiously, maybe a handful of times. But we viewed a couple properties, and then with much discussion and more prayer, we decided to attempt an offer on a 1925 house in need of sweat equity and optimism. Thankfully, Luke had sweat equity, and I had plenty of optimism.
With the strategic help of our realtors, we made a big decision while on a road trip. In a gas station parking lot. In a tiny mountain town. With no wifi, data, battery life, or working car chargers. We eked out our signatures on a contract via our best-working phone, grasping at signal and mustard-seed faith. Meanwhile, we couldn’t help laughing like little kids at the landscape of such a serious moment.
Oh, how I clung to our original vision, as we walked the property for the third time in July, this time with keys in hand. Could this scrappy little place–with its oddities and closet for a kitchen and no AC–truly be the best place for our family and ministry? I wish I could tell you all the ways God creatively provided through this process.
Everything begged for attention, but Luke rolled up his sleeves to redeem the hardwood floors lambasted with thick white paint. No small task.
In between houses, we spent the triple-digit summer at my parents’ delightful home across town. My 3-year-old and I swam, enjoyed the piano, went to baby appointments, read books, and thrifted treasures for our new home. Meanwhile, Luke spent many afternoons and evenings working to transform the place, with new and old friends pitching in to help (we have the kindest friends!).
I picked bouquets from a garden I didn’t plant and agonized over paint colors and stain shades, but it was my dear friends and family who helped Luke put up gallons of it both inside and out.
The roof went from a shabby grey to fresh brown, and the little house turned weathered white to a stormy blue with crisp trim. You all helped us install windows, find furniture, clean, as I said, paint, sort baby clothes, shingle and side, clean our car, pack and unpack, and move all of our things (TWICE!), cook us meals — all before home reno loan deadlines, winter, and a baby due date.
Ironically, in addition to our big change, three of my sisters moved this year as well, so there were plenty of cleaning parties and cardboard boxes to go around.
TRAVEL
We began by taking a trip to Kansas in windy March, stranded in Utah for a couple days, due to a blizzard in Wyoming. Finally in Kansas, we spent a refreshing week at the farm with Luke’s parents.
At the end of May, we enjoyed my grandparents’ gorgeous cabin with my family. We loved the privilege of attending and officiating our good friends’ wedding in Gig Harbor, Washington. This was a quick, memorable getaway for just Luke and I, and we enjoyed staying right by the ocean in a cozy boathouse; we considered it an early five-year anniversary trip.
In June, we journeyed to a Colorado camp for a large family reunion to see grandparents and a plethora of dear cousins. We drove on to Kansas from there to see all of Luke’s family. We took country road walks, made ice cream runs, ate pancakes for breakfast, played games and talked and laughed into the late evening. We ventured to church camp, but after that we stayed home to await Rosie’s arrival.
FAMILY
We are immensely thankful to be a family of four in ’24. Baby Girl was seven days late but came at the perfect time, giving us a couple weeks to settle into our new home (special thanks to my sisters and dear mother who helped me nest above and beyond).
The first official contraction happened during the Vice President debate (a nod to the interesting political time in history she entered), and she joined us before dawn the following morning. She endeared us all with her delicate, feminine features and love for socializing. It’s a treasure to see our children already bonding, knowing they will, Lord willing, grow old together. We have nothing but gratitude for our family’s growth this year.
Both being part of large families, there’s always a flurry of change, earnest prayers, comings and goings, goodbyes and joyous reunions, laughter, stimulating conversation. Not to mention buzzing chat groups, delicious food, cutthroat Scattergory matches, Marco Polo monologues, spontaneous thrifting, lingering over coffee, and comparing notes on a variety of topics. The little cousins are already building a giant warehouse of special memories together.
ONWARD
We’re approaching 2025! There’s much to be about, pray about, and praise God about. I’m excited to continue being a homemaker, take a few family trips and watch an even bigger kitchen transformation happen among other home projects.
We truly wish you each a VERY MERRY Christmas! It may start to sound cliche this time of year, but we can’t stop enough and marvel that God became flesh, walked among us, and shined light in our darkness. The best is yet to come for all who believe in Him. No matter what the year holds, we know and trust God is good, He is sovereign and powerful, and He loves us more than we can comprehend.
1) Our former kitchenbefore the remodel 2) Improved kitchen. Fridge and washer/dryer are hiding behind the wall.
Our 3-year-old enjoying the park and a sunset after a church softball game. It was a sportsy year, as I can’t believe we also played (and won!) a volleyball league season with great friends in the spring.
Our BEAUTIFUL baby girl, “Rosie!” Her full name isn’t featured on this blog for privacy purposes, but you may be able to guess it from the 2nd part of her name on her blanket. 🙂
Five years of marriage! Mount Rainier in the background.
1) Our new living room BEFORE Luke’s work in sanding and staining the floors. 2) And NOW — a room full of Christmas and the warmth of fellowship of our young adult group watching a Christmas movie together. GOD IS GOOD.
This quote struck me recently. “An ordinary day to you is making up their childhood.”
It’s a strange question, I admit, but it’s one I’ve been asking myself nearly every day since I read Betty’s biography.*
The question, and all its versions, (“but why did you carry that stone in the first place, Abi?”) has followed each time I’ve felt a twinge of entitlement or bitterness or like anyone owes me anything.
Why does this rock question carry meaning?
A young woman named Betty felt called to the mission field. She poured every ounce of her life’s passion into an isolated group, the Colorado Indians in Ecuador. The harvest was plentiful, but she stood in the gap as one of the few laborers studying the culture and the languages (actually, two of them).
After a long nine months of harvesting meticulous translation notes, she received word that all of her documents had been stolen along with her luggage. She never saw them again, and her observations would never birth a single resource, let alone a Bible translation.
Why would God waste the work of such a rarity — a talented Scripture translator willing to use her gifts for however long it took to reach an isolated people group? It was His gospel after all. Betty stared at the undressed truth that God’s sovereignty transcends what looks like efficiency to us. To her, it seemed like a storm without any rainbow, but God wove a fruitful plan for the woman who became Elisabeth Elliot.
Due to this experience with the Colorado people and what many would assume a “wasted year” in the jungle, Elisabeth Elliot was impacted by an apocryphal story (so it’s not Scripture), and now it haunts me too. It reminds me nothing done in the service of God is truly wasted, even when we are left confused by the results of our efforts.
Here is the “lovely little African legend about Jesus,” that Elisabeth Elliot said, “hit her between the eyes.” Jesus and his disciples summited a mountain and along the journey he asked them each to pick up a stone. John chose a large one, Peter a small one.
When they got to the top of the mountain, Jesus turned both stones into bread. Peter, of course, regretted choosing a small rock. Later, again Jesus asked Peter and John to pick up stones. This time, Peter found the largest stone he could muster. At the end of their day’s journey, Jesus brought his disciples to the edge of the water. There they were commanded to cast their stones into the water. Peter protested, thinking about the bread he’d hoped for, and his teacher answered, “For whom did you carry the rock?”
This story resonated with me because I carry various stones in ministry and my motives can fluctuate. Sometimes I choose the size of effort based on the give-and-take I think I’ll receive.
Why did I carry the rock? What if God never does anything with it? Or maybe He’ll turn it into bread I’ll never taste? Why did I mentor another believer? Why did I help with moving? Why did we share the gospel with our neighbor over and over and serve her until her dying breath, when she never seemed to turn to her Maker? Why am I in ministry at all? Did I carry that rock so I could have something for myself? Surely, God would reward His faithful servant. Why did we go on that rabbit trail of resources, training, and immersion in a culture? Is it a waste if God seemingly cuts the season short? If my marathon preparation never meets the race I expected?
God doesn’t work according to our measures of efficiency. Yet He never wastes. As soon as we recognize this, we’ll cease striving and spewing about what doesn’t feel logical or fair. Instead, our very purpose is “to the praise and glory of God’s grace,” and we rest all of our labor with the Chief Cornerstone who declares, “I will build my church” (Matt. 16:18).
We carry these rocks in obedience because He is good, because He can be trusted, and because He is worthy. Because God is good and big enough to hold something even as precious as the destiny of the Colorado Indians. He can hold even our unanswered questions.
If we’re doing His work for something other than God’s glory, we should get out now. Those are only the motions, and He doesn’t want empty lip service when our hearts are far from Him (Is. 29:13).
It’s a joy to invest in friendships with those delightful, easy-to-love souls who share our sense of humor, and enjoy talking about the same things as us. We’re eager to pursue vibrant personalities who also love to give back. It’s comfortable and rewarding immediately.
Did we seek to make disciples for Christ, or was it for us? He will not give His glory to another (Is. 42:8).
But purify our motives, Lord, and make us pure within. Let us seek to sacrifice out of hearts grateful for what You’ve already done for us, and for the eternal rewards you promise. Let us be willing to serve in ways which cost us, since you gave us Your costly love. Let us love the least of these, too. Cause us to hunger for the most magnificent, glorious purpose of magnifying YOUR name alone.
“But now we do not yet see all things subjected to him . . . for it was fitting for Him, for whom are all things, and through whom are all things, in bringing many sons to glory, to perfect the author of their salvation through suffering.” Hebrews 2:8b, 10
Hebrews tells us we won’t see all things subjected to Him right now – we’ll have the rabbit trails and speed bumps. So let us introduce others to glory, not for the mere hope of an earthly satisfaction, but for the One whom “from Him, and through Him and to Him are all things. To Him be the glory forever” (Romans 11:35). Let His love be our reward even amidst aching loss, and let Him have the first place in our motives.
And we can say in spite of stolen time and jungle sweat, like Elisabeth Elliot did, “Of one thing I am perfectly sure: God’s story never ends with ‘ashes.’”
Perhaps you, like me, have found comfort in keeping a record of wrongs of your surroundings. Instead of resting, we’re fretting. I’ve been swift to find fault with a circumstance and resort to envy or strife in viewing my personal situation. Preoccupied with “what ifs” and “if onlys,” we wonder if we’re in the right place at the right time, or maybe we’re hopelessly lost and in the wrong lane at peak rush hour.
However, I’m one of God’s little sheep, so therefore, I’m in a pasture, and according to Psalm 23, it’s a green one. Frets give way to true rest, because my husband and I have sought to acknowledge God in all our ways, and He directed our path to the season we’re in. I pause to look around in light of this, and pull together my courage.
“Remember this, had any other condition been better for you than the one in which you are divine love would have put you there.” (Charles Spurgeon)
The “conditions” He provides can often feel more like we accidentally blew south at a splintered crossroads. But our condition, truly, is a pasture with a provision of quiet water. Divine Love would have orchestrated us somewhere else if that had been His design for our good and His glory. There’s a sovereign reason the pasture that promised more potential was marked “pending” before we could even make a move to transfer.
He put me HERE, because He loves me, so I shall not want.
Sometimes we must squint in faith until we realize we absolutely have everything He says we need. Our part is to listen, follow, and obey in the process of our growth. One step at a time.
But what about them? Wandering eyes gather uncertainty. Our literal neighbor, or someone online, may look like they are feasting on a lusher hilltop without any goat-heads or gaping dry cracks. Maybe they have more sheeply companions, more resources, more giftings, more health, more rainbows. THEIR earthly blessings can look as deep green as the envy in our hearts.
I’d love to have eavesdropped on this conversation in John 21 after Jesus gave specific instructions to Peter — “When Peter saw him (John), he said to Jesus, “Lord, what about this man?” Jesus said to him, “If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you? You follow me!”
Do we need to know the business of our sister or brother? “You follow me!” So even still, as for me, I shall not want. My cup overflows.
Because didn’t He say we have angels encamping around us? Don’t I have the Living water? Do I not possess every spiritual blessing either already or not yet? Do I not share Jesus Christ’s own inheritance? Do I have always-access to the Throne of Grace? Does He restore my soul each time I beg for mercy? Do I have the weapons of the gospel needed for battle? Do I have endless rest and quietness when I entrust myself to His care? Do I have a great glory through His salvation alone? Is not the Lord our Shepherd?
We asked our very spiritual life of Him, and He granted. Even in the valley of the shadow of death, we can expect His great benefits of salvation. He makes us lie down and comforts us with His staff. He leads even when we travel before our enemies. March on, little sheep. The cup from the Shepherd overflows.
When asked of our five-year plan, it’s safe to assume we visualize multiplied blessings…with additional sugar on top. We hope for an even greener, more massive pasture, and we chart a path that makes sense to throw us in the forecast of those blessings. Oh, how we love sensible, logical, consequential outcomes.
But we know He’ll keep leading, with or without what makes sense to us. Even when the weather He chooses doesn’t feel pragmatic or lush, or is a pasture clearly planted in the middle of a raging battle, He still promises His lovingkindness and asks for our trust and obedience. Trust He’s providing the unseen spiritual blessings we need. Evil is not to fear when the Shepherd holds both a rod and staff.
“This hard place in which you, perhaps, find yourself, is the very place in which God is giving you opportunity to look only to Him.” Elisabeth Elliot
To look to Him, is to see Him hemming us in with goodness and lovingkindness, and that takes some faith. If we can’t see His goodness following us, perhaps we’re expecting only earthside gifts found in a five-year plan, and not the gifts that yield only eternal fruit. And not the eternal weight of glory growing in the absence or sacrifice of those common gifts of grace.
We can wail, “how did I get here?” or “WHY did I get here?” but instead, enjoy, delight and rejoice in where He’s brought us, because He held us in our journey through and to the pasture. Believe it’s green. Wherever you are, fully dwell and inhale His goodness. Go to the quiet waters and drink a fill of abundance of the river of God’s delights. Obey courageously!
“Give us ears To hear that still, small voice And give us lips Forever willing to rejoice And may our eyes be lit with wisdom May we know the path that’s true And we’ll march With hearts courageous after You
We’re marchin’ on With hearts courageous We’ll follow anywhere You want us to And should You lead us Where the battle rages Let us march With hearts courageous after You.”
It seemed the consistent thing to do to share the last of my 2023 book reviews. This year I’m hopeful to read more NEW-to-me books. But how I love the old favorites! Do let me know if you have any must-reads you think I’d enjoy. My favorite time period for fiction is early 1900s, but I’d love to broaden my horizons in this as well.
Virgil Wander
(Leif Enger)
Virgil owns a movie house in a small, sleepy midwest town. He loses his memory in an accident so he must uncover his own personal history. Quirky, small-town ups and downs unfold. I enjoy Enger’s vivid writing style, but this storyline didn’t have the same depth as Peace like a River in my humble opinion. Not much plot, and sometimes a modern setting can just feel cheesy to me. I gave it three out of five stars on Goodreads.
Betsy and the Great World
(Maud Hart Lovelace)
Betsy decides college is not for her, and she goes off to tour Europe, hoping to broaden the scope of her imagination to fuel her writing. She soaks in the foreign cities, street cafes, and cultural traditions, and even witnesses the first dawn of WWI. When an author plucks a beloved character out of her endearing setting, I always feel homesick right along with them.
Betsy’s Wedding
(Maud Hart Lovelace)
I enjoyed this book more than the other times I’ve read it, perhaps because I’m married now too! Young couple in young America makes me smile and enjoy the authentic history of fashion/economics/etc. woven into the setting. How I wish young couples today could buy their first charming homes besides the lake with only $600 down. I think married Tacy and married Betsy are the best versions of themselves, and I’m relieved Betsy doesn’t chase another immaturity that leads to more heartbreak. Joe brings out the best in Betsy, and Harry brings out the best in Tacy. The young wives turn their energies toward homemaking, hospitality, writing, and babies . . . and trying to marry off the third in their trio, Tib!
Surprised by Oxford
(Carolyn Weber)
Carolyn sets out to study at Oxford as an agnostic, and through the kindness of a Christian, she begins to wrestle with the truth about the universe and her. A clever and honest book, making you really think about how we interact with those who are yet to meet God. Are we able to patiently endure when others ask us tough questions? A beautiful memoir!
Quote: “I’m very particular about mugs: I can taste how it influences my drink. I liked this one right away.” Carolyn Weber//Surprised by Oxford
Carney’s House Party
(Maud Hart Lovelace)
I had a little trouble getting into this one, but stuck with it until the suspense of Larry’s visit took over. Carney hosts a “house party” for her friends in a hot, Minnesota summer. It includes Betsy! It’s a slow but sweet unfolding romance with some surprises at the end.
Memorizing Scripture: The Basics, Blessings, and Benefits of Meditating on God’s Word (Glenna Marshall)
Simple nourishment for a heart that longs to know His Word better. Thank you for writing this book, Glenna! We can also use compelling reasons to memorize and meditate on Scripture. I enjoyed her personal stories throughout this book, and it was inspiring to see how her different memorized passages encouraged her in various seasons of her life.
Quote by author: “Meditating on God’s Word–thinking deeply about it as we work to memorize–helps us to remember what the world would like us to forget: Christ has died. Christ is coming. Christ will come again!” –Glenna Marshall
Mr. Dickens and His Carol by Samantha Silva *spoiler*
(Samantha Silva)
I wanted a cozy, Chirstmasy book for December. At first, it reminded me of the movie The Man Who Invented Christmas. I begun this book with great enjoyment; the style of it felt true to Dickens, easy to follow, and cast promise of the good feels of A Christmas Carol. I wish I had actually read A Christmas Carol instead for my December read. Mr. Dickens was primarily about his obsession with chasing down a couple different women, while his wife and children fended for themselves to enjoy Christmas. After looking it up, I understand historical evidence lends itself to perhaps make this a believable plot about Charles Dickens. But I didn’t want to read about it.
The Lord God Made Them All
(James Herriot)
More endearing stories from a country vet, with some war stories mixed in. Of course, I wanted more about Tristen, but we do get to meet Herriot’s kids.
Abigail Rehmert 