About

About

I love whenever I get the chance to travel. I’ve dreamed about certain places to call home. While I haven’t stopped dreaming, I’ve come to realize the beauty of the place I’ve called home for twenty-some years. I’ve lived in New York my whole life. And no, not the skyscrapers-and-busy-streets-New York. I come from the New York where the hills are like a patchwork of tilled land and pasture for grazing cattle; where tall pines border the creeks that glisten in the autumn sun; and where small towns in the valley seem a lot like good old Mayberry. Here, everybody knows somebody’s cousin; and the band stand on the village green still serenades the town with French horns and trumpets. It’s not a perfect place. It has a reputation for lingering winters that host some lonesome nights; but for those who wait patiently for summer, they find themselves elated by the mild climate, and the wooded trails to walk again, and the blue lakes to splash in. This is the New York I’ve come to love.

I’m also the baby of the family ( now, no stereotyping if you please 😉 ). I’ve got two wonderful parents and two older sisters who are my best friends. My sisters and I like to make music together as a string and vocal trio. We often delve into a host of genres-from classical, to Celtic, to Jewish, to spirituals and hymns, and even some old ragtime. We have dreams too, for this music, while all the while grateful for the friendships we’ve made and the late night practices that lead us into tired fits of laughter.

As an introvert at heart, I tend to do a lot of my thinking and dreaming in solitude and silence and prayer. Ever since I was young, my thoughts were always easier to express on paper than in speech. I always found myself trying to make sense of life through music, poetry, or simply journaling. So why not give a whirl at this blog writing business?

It probably means that I’ll be writing about the moments and places and people that make up my life. Like a God who is unfathomably powerful and overwhelmingly kind. Like family that tries to protect and love each other. Friends who share honest conversations around a cup of coffee. Wounds that I’ve been learning how to steward. Silent weeping and anxious thoughts. It could also be about the sweeping sounds of stringed music that mysteriously bring a tear to the eye. Or fire orange sunsets that carve a still place in the heart. Like laughter around an evening fire. It could be the marked moments of failure and discouragement. Guilt as well as forgiveness. It may also be the coolness and patter of summer rain. Or family harmonies breaking out in carols at Christmas.

When this world feels less like home and more like a stopping place, an overnight stay, I often get caught up in the hope of a Person. This is about remembering who we are by remembering who God is. Watching how truth breaths love into flight and sends it fearlessly soaring. Waiting with a joyful ache and longing, catching glimpses of what we were truly made for. Different experiences and yet, something resonating in all our hearts. Ultimately, I can’t shy from speaking about the one who I’ve come to love more and more as time goes on. Jesus. His name can sadly feel like salt in an old wound to some. To others, it’s craved water on cracked lips. As my life is wrapped up in getting to know Him more, so too, are these moments and this blog.

So if anything this is a journey to recognizes what catches my heart and mind, and hopefully some of what catches yours as well. Where words are spoken in truth and kindness. Just this- a safe place for us, with room to wonder.