Everything Old is New Again: Skinny Jeans

If you're anything like me, you have a stack of jeans in your closet waiting for a pair of legs to walk them around. Yet you always grab for that same, familiar pair. I still have a favorite pair of American Eagle's from HIGH SCHOOL, and that would also be the story of these obscure name-brand skinny jeans I purchased last fall at Francescas. 

I've worn them in the snow with knee boots, with sandals and tank top, and with heels and button down.  I've worn them so much that the color has worn right off them.

In the hopes of wearing them a little bit more + saving money instead of buying a new pair, I found a new friend:

Rit Dye is super cheap (we're talking under $5), comes in a plethora of fun colors and can be purchased at Michael's or on their amazing website. So, take one more look at the faded version of my favorite jeans before I walk you through their hue-enhancing transformation!

There are multiple ways to dye clothing. You can dye in your washing machine, on the stove top, in a laundry sink, or like I did, in a *clean*  mop bucket.

All you do is pour the dye contents as well as a kettle full of boiling water into the bucket where the jeans, which have been dampened, eagerly await.

Then, with gloved hands, continuously twist, turn and spin 

the contents like a manual washing machine.

Be careful, the water's H-O-T!

Continue for about 20 minutes or until the dye looks like it has fully seeped into the fabric.

Rinse with warm, then cold water in a sink until the water flows clear, free of dye.

Wring out, wash on normal cycle (cold water) in washing machine, line dry and voilà.

A "new" pair of favorite jeans from just a few bucks and two hours' worth of ingenuity provides endless personal satisfaction. I wish you all the best with your dying endeavors. I'm pretty confident this is just the first of many more for me.

A Sip of Fall

We are two days away from Labor Day, and I'm already feeling fall nip at my heels. 

It's been creeping into my early morning runs with a cool breeze and falling leaves.

 It's in the fabulous pirate Halloween costume that teases me at Smith's Variety.

It's on the pages of the September/October Shelbyco magazine.

It's in the Auburn Tigers' fight song that's been on repeat in my head.

And it's in my favorite seasonal drinks, like this Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Latte.

Ah yes fall, welcome in.

Be Thou My Vision

Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart,

naught be all else to me, save that thou art;

Thou my best thought by day or by night,

Waking or sleeping, thy presence my light.

Be thou my wisdom, thou my true word,

I ever with thee and thou with me Lord;

Thou my great Father, I thy true son;

Thou in me dwelling, and I with thee one.

Be thou my breastplate, sword for the fight;

Be thou my dignity, thou my delight;

Thou my soul's shelter, thou my high tower:

Raise thou me heavenward, O Power of my power.

Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise:

Thou mine inheritance now and always;

Thou and thou only first in my heart;

High King of Heaven, my treasure thou art.

High King of heaven, my victory won,

May I reach heaven's joys, O Bright Heaven's sun!

Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,

Still be my vision, O Ruler of all.

~Irish hymn written by Dallán Forgaill, 8^th Century

I can never listen to the above without tearing up. So rich. 

Hope you enjoy the lyrics! They blessed me yet again this afternoon!

Finding Sabbath

The whole concept of observing sabbath is a rather new one for me. It shouldn't be. I've been a christian for quite some time. I've read the Bible. I know that it has been practiced since God created the world in Genesis. Yet, sunday (which is my sabbath day) had unfortunately become yet another day of work; one in which I wasn't receiving a paycheck. Sunday had become catch-up day, laundry day, a grocery shopping day, and oftentimes, when it was my turn to sing in the praise band* (which required arriving at 7 a.m. and leaving at 12 p.m.) a very much exhausting "on-day." 

Then, I quit.

For 24 hours each week, I quit output, I quit my frenetic schedule, I quit my speedy pace, I quit my endless striving.

And thus far, the rewards have been abundant.

On sabbath, 

I stop. 

I rest.

I pray. 

I read.

I read the Word.

I bake for pleasure, not just purpose. 

I walk to think, dream, observe and listen rather than to mark miles. 

I drink my coffee** with leisure, not in quick gulps between hair blow-drying and bed-making.

I avoid Facebook.

I sleep, not waking until my body dictates, sans alarm clock. Sometimes this means 5 a.m., sometimes 11.

I write.

I write letters.

Sometimes I blog.

I pray for the upcoming week. 

I spend intentional time alone and then engage in community at our 5 o'clock worship service. 

I can do all of these things because I know my Father holds the universe in His hands, and my very small world will not suffer if I rest for one day each week.

The ladies at Redeemer are reading Mark Buchanan's The Rest of God, Restoring Your Soul by Restoring Sabbath. Buchanan reiterates my point in the following:

  "Real Sabbath, the kind that empties and fills us, depends on complete confidence and trust. And  

   confidence and trust like that are rooted in a deep conviction that God is good and God is sovereign. 

   There's no rest for those who don't believe that. If God works all things together for good for those

   who love him and are called to his purposes, you can relax. If he doesn't, start worrying. If God can

   take any mess, any mishap, any wastage, any wreckage, any anything, and choreograph beauty and

   meaning from it, then you can take a day off. If he can't, get busy. Either God's always at work,

   watching the city, building the house, or you need to try harder.

   Either God is good and in control, or it all depends on you."

Thankfully, for my sanity and everyone else's, I've finally come to grips with the reality that God is indeed in control. And because of this, I can rest.

*This doesn't mean that you cannot sing in your praise band (or serve in another capacity at your church) and not observe sabbath. It just means, for me, serving in this capacity had become work, not all worship, and I needed to relocate this time in service with rest elsewhere.

**On Sunday mornings you're likely to find me tucked away in a local coffee shop. On this blissful morning, I found respite in the sunshine and among the birds on my parent's back porch. My mother spoiled me with the following. Oh happy sabbath day!

When Life Gives You Pears...

Make a pear tart, and serve it with vanilla ice cream or Cool Whip!

Very much On.a.Whim, I decided to attempt pulling off this fruit pastry in time for home group last night. Let's just say that my kitchen had a come-apart, I was 30 minutes late to home group and was in such a fluster when I finally arrived on the Kling’s street that I went into the wrong house, two doors down!

The result was a not-completely-done crust and pear slices that looked more like scalloped potatoes rather than delicately sliced and arranged pears. However, I was inspired, and when I have more time and another opportunity, I’m going to try my variation of this Sunset magazine recipe again:

Ingredients:

1 sheet (about 10x12 in.) frozen puff pastry, thawed

2 or 3 firm-ripe pears

½ cup orange marmalade

1 egg, beaten to blend

1 TBSP brown sugar

1.    Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Lightly butter baking sheet.

2.     On a floured surface with rolling pin, roll out pastry to 16 x 18 in.

3.     Cut pastry into fourths.

4.     Core pears and cut into thin wedges. Arrange delicately, slightly overlapped on pastry rectangles.

5.     Warm marmalade in on stove-top over low heat, stirring frequently.

6.     Brush marmalade then egg wash over entire pastry.

7.     Sprinkle entire pastry with brown sugar.

8.     Bake until pastries are richly browned, about 25 minutes.

9.     Serve warm or at room temperature with Cool Whip or ice cream.

*A special thanks to the precious one who provided me with a plethora of pretty pears.

The Gospel: A Reckless Sinner's Perspective

My True North - photo captured in Chapel Hill, NC by On.a.Whim.

I'm moving my church membership to Redeemer Community Church, and part of the membership application involves writing down what the gospel means to me. In recording my thoughts to paper, I am overwhelmed anew by God's grace and my unworthiness.

The gospel, to me, is a story (the greatest of non-fiction) of a perfect, sinless Being, who left paradise to wear flesh and dwell among sinful humanity. It’s the story of how this God-man was convicted of sins not His own, was accused, found guilty, was crucified, died and was buried. It’s a story of His resurrection, His ascension, and His now and future redemption of the world. 

This story began long before the cross, long before the times of the judges, farther back than the patriarchs. It was first visible in the garden with the trampling of the serpent’s head and will not be completely fulfilled until Christ returns to claim His people and create His new earth.

It’s actually more than a story. You see, it’s my only hope, my greatest joy, my reason for living. It crushes me; appropriately humiliates me and stirs my soul out of complacency. It rings truer than my greatest thought, surpasses any human act of greatness, and displays its glory in all of creation.

It’s why I love my fellow sinner; why I have hope in the midst of great devastation; why I can smile when the world is overcome with sadness. It's my only way. The gospel of Christ is my everything.

“All we like sheep have gone astray; 

We have turned, every one, to his own;

And the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all.” 

~Isaiah 53:6

Feather Pen Craft

Apparently feathers are this season’s accessory of choice. I’ve seen them entwined in jewelry, clothes and even hair. They were also the inspiration for this very easy and fun On.a.Whim craft project.

My sister wanted to use a certain brown, felt-tipped pen for their wedding guestbook. When she asked me to make the exterior of the pen pretty, I was happy to acquiesce her request.

Jen's feathers of choice: Classic wedding-day cream. I bet bright peacock feathers in vibrant shades of blue and green would make for a nice special occasion pen. You can find feathers at any craft store. These were purchased at Michael's. 

Trim to desired length with a handy set o' pliers.

OR 

Tightly wrap excess wire around the base of the pen. It's up to you whether you want to cut or wrap the wire stem. I finally decided to keep and wrap it so that the feather would be more secure. If you have a feather without a long wire stem, just make sure the feather is firmly inserted into the top of the pen with the floral tape + hot glue.

Click play to watch next step of the process. Beginning at the top of the pen, where feather inserts, firmly wrap floral tape around and around the pen to cover and hold.

Glue a couple dots of hot glue on the top of the pen.
Insert craft rope at top. Let dry for a few minutes. 

Firmly wrap craft rope around and around the pen. 

Still wrapping! Cut and tuck end of rope at bottom of pen.
You may want to use hot glue to fasten snuggly.

And voila, you have a handmade feather pen in minutes!