Purposeful Learning

Purposefully living for Jesus, one day at a time.

Lockdown Painting

// Leave a Comment

Spring is coming here on the coast! I’m hoping to get a few pictures to share with you soon, but for now, it’s not an understatement that we’ve thoroughly been enjoying warmer, sunny days!

With our country being in lockdown for the past two weeks, most of my family has been home and unable to work. Was I ever grateful that we’d already bought paint to do up our guest house! (And—is it just me, or does it seem like everyone tends to bring out their handyman projects when they’re stuck at home?)

We were given this guest house near the beginning of the year—the original owner built it as a tiny house for himself, and eventually decided he didn’t want to keep it. He offered it to us, and we were delighted to take it. Our home is relatively small, and when we have company, it isn’t always easy to fit everyone in—although it’s amazing what you can do when you have three bedrooms!

Over the past three or four months, my brothers have been working tirelessly to get the house insulated, re-lined, and prepped for painting…and finally this week, all that work was done, which meant the fun could begin! And since I had a brother at home who was willing to help me, we seized the moment and spent several full days in there over this past week.

Here’s what the interior looked like as we were starting to paint:

Part-way through, the first coat finished on the ceiling:

Second coat on the ceiling and first coat on the walls:

My patient, helpful brother, and painting buddy! (Any guesses as to who got the most paint on themselves?)

And the finished product! Four coats on the ceiling and three on the walls.

It’s a little hard to make out from the pictures, but the ceiling is flat white, and the walls are a very light cream. Depending on the lighting, it can really look like it varies! The picture above was taken in the late afternoon with the golden light coming in; the one below was taken this morning.

Now I’m working on doing the windowsills, and after my builder brother (who is super talented, by the way) gets the skirting done, I’ll paint that as well. The windowsills only need one more coat of paint, but the skirting will probably need two or three more coats. We’re almost there! I’m looking forward to when the flooring can be put down by my floor laying brother (I tell you, it’s handy to have brothers in the trades!). I’m also looking forward to finishing the curtains and getting them up! Hopefully, it will be a restful place for our guests. A place removed from the craziness of our household, but not too far away, either.

I’m trying to decide if I want to name the house, and if so, what name—and where we should put a sign, if I do name it. I’ve been tossing around ideas like “Moonlight Cottage” (after the area we live in), or perhaps something like what John Bunyan did in The Pilgrim’s Progress at the House Beautiful—each bedroom had a different name, and Christian slept in the one named “Peace”, if I remember right. If you have any ideas, feel free to share them below. I’m planning to bring it up for family discussion sometime soon.

The New Calf

// Leave a Comment

It’s the end of a busy day, the sun just set behind the mountains. Mountains that, at the beginning of the week, had a beautiful layer of snow over them! I’ve got a cup of hot matcha and passionfruit tea sitting beside me—a friend gave me a boxful several months ago, which I used for a while and subsequently forgot.

I just stopped to re-read that paragraph. Isn’t it amazing how life can be made to sound so idyllic at times? And it is, in many ways, I guess. I was able to sit down to read a book for almost an entire hour today—broken up into many 5–15-minute segments, true, but that’s still a lot more reading time than I get some days. What a blessing.

Earlier today, I helped out in an hour-long hunt for our new calf. That wasn’t quite so idyllic. My brother was certain last Monday that the calf would come that night, and Mom had a look at our cow. “No, probably not.” Then he was certain last night that it was again impending. Mom had another look—“A few more days, perhaps.”

She was due today . . . and this morning, when taking care of the other cows, he discovered evidence that indeed, the calf had been born, but where did it go? The cows were up in a hill paddock surrounded by moveable fencing, and one side drops steeply away in a cliff. Steep enough that I’ve never desired to try to descend it. After he and Mom spent half an hour searching the easier surrounds this morning—stumps and a great variety of bushes and other hiding places around the general area—they gave up. Perhaps the cow had just hidden him, and this afternoon, the calf would get hungry enough to come out for a feed. We could catch him then.

Several rainstorms blew through, pounding rain for a few minutes before clearing to brilliant blue sky and warm sunshine again. In one sunny patch, around noon, several of us decided to go up and give a concerted effort to see if we could locate the new calf. It was a bit concerning to know it was here, but not to know just where it was.

My search area was a tangle of wild gorse, broom, and other native bushes interspersed with patches of wild crocrosmia (one of my favorite summer flowers, and yes, I can never remember the name). Those lined the cliff edge, and then, further along, were stacks of old rusty tin, pipes, iron, bits of wood, old trailers, and who knows what else surrounding the sheds bordering the far end of the fenced-in area. As I searched, I prayed. Where did that calf go? I imagined it curling up under a piece of roofing iron, tucked just out of sight under a patch of ferns, or hiding in a dark cranny in one of the sheds.

Finally, I thought I heard someone calling my name. Three of my brothers were also searching, and they had decided to take the cliff’s slopes, amidst great tangles of gorse and blackberry vines and other creepers and bushes, large and small, to see if they could spot the calf. I wasn’t sure whether I had heard correctly—sound doesn’t always travel up and through bushes and around buildings all that well! After several tries, I could make out that they had found it! It was alive and uninjured (praise the Lord; it could have easily fallen to its death or been injured on the way down), and now all they needed was a machete to free them from the blackberry vines. Mom brought that up for them, and then once they had disentangled themselves from that mess, it was a fairly steep climb back to the top.

I circled down and around to the bottom, to see if there was any chance of an easier path out beside the 20–30 meter (60–90 ft) straight-up-and-down tangle of the cliff. As I soon saw, if they went down, they’d have to carry the calf through at least another 10 meters (30 ft) of old blackberry vines, so old and tangled that they were up to a man’s chest or deeper in places. Then they’d have to cross a swampy basin, fighting through tangled bush again, before climbing another 2-meter cliff to get up to the road! My oldest brother decided it would be easier to go up–the distance was about the same either way, and this way they wouldn’t be ripped to shreds by the blackberries.

It was a tough haul. But he made it, mud-splattered, scratched, kicked, and all—impressing me with his strength and determination!—and we were able to reunite mother and baby. They are now staying in another paddock with better fencing and without a steep drop-off along one edge. Both seem quite happy now.

New Calf

God is good.

And so ends an idyllic day. The sky is now quite dark, even though it’s only 6:30 pm—we’re still very much in winter!—and soon we’ll be sitting down to have dinner together. I can hear Mom out in the milking shed, finishing up for the night.

Several times, while I’ve been writing this, my youngest sister has come in to say hello to me, to talk about different troubles she has. One time, she was pointing at her forehead, saying it was ouchy.

“Do you need a kiss to fix it?”

“Yeah.” So I kissed it.

She just came back again, pointing to her tongue. “It ouchy!”

“You want me to kiss your tongue?” I asked.

“Yeah.” Big sister duties. . . .

What have you had happening lately?

The Nature of Small Birds: Book Review

// Leave a Comment

It feels like a good while since I’ve posted any book reviews on here! Today, I’d like to share a special book with you—special, because even though it would fit in one of the genres I tend to frequent (historical fiction), it isn’t a time period I have experienced in a book before: The 70s, after the Vietnam War. It’s also a unique book because it’s a split-time novel; there are three different parts to the story, and each of them takes place somewhere around 10-20 years apart. I stayed up late to finish reading last night, partly because I knew I needed to get this review up, but also partly because it was really interesting. But…enough waffling. Let’s get on with the synopsis.

And of course, I do have to put a disclaimer in here—some links are affiliate links, that support this blog at no extra expense to you (thank you!), and I was given a copy of this book for free in exchange for my honest review. 🙂

Book review: The Nature of Small Birds by Susie Finkbeiner

About this book:

In 1975, three thousand children were airlifted out of Saigon to be adopted into Western homes. When Mindy, one of those children, announces her plans to return to Vietnam to find her birth mother, her loving adopted family is suddenly thrown back to the events surrounding her unconventional arrival in their lives.

Though her father supports Mindy’s desire to meet her family of origin, he struggles privately with an unsettling fear that he’ll lose the daughter he’s poured his heart into. Mindy’s mother undergoes the emotional rollercoaster inherent in the adoption of a child from a war-torn country, discovering the joy hidden amid the difficulties. And Mindy’s sister helps her sort through relics that whisper of the effect the trauma of war has had on their family–but also speak of the beauty of overcoming.

Told through three strong voices in three compelling timelines, The Nature of Small Birds is a hopeful story that explores the meaning of family far beyond genetic code.

Buy your copy here.

My thoughts:

Several years ago, I heard a mention of a new novel by Susie Finkbeiner. I admired the cover, but never actually stopped to pick it up to read it—despite it sitting on my Kindle almost begging me to read it for quite a while! Fast forward to a month or so ago, when I saw that she had another one coming out. This one came recommended by an author I know and appreciate, so I signed up to review it. Little did I know the story would suck me in the way it did. I remember catching something about Operation Babylift, Vietnam, and split-time novel from the description, but I was unprepared for the depth and beauty I’ve met within these pages.

These characters each have heart-touching stories of love, hope, and a dash of grief—the things we run into in our normal lives. I admired the author’s ability to pull me into each time, helping me to get to know the characters at their different stages. I never was confused about whose head and what time I was in (and got more than one good chuckle at the observations about 70’s styles or decor!), and each thread of the story is expertly woven into the others, while still pulling its own weight. I’m in awe—and, yes, a little jealous—of how the story crafting was done.

The history? I could rhapsodize about that, too, but I won’t. This book is well worth reading if you enjoy stories that aren’t necessarily your typical historical or contemporary reads. It also isn’t that strong on romance, which I enjoyed as a change—there’s a married couple in here, but the focus is on the family growing as a whole, rather than their relationship. You see little hints every now and then—with a kiss or some other romantic gesture, but that’s not the main point of the book. A recommended story!

Conclusion

If you enjoy historical fiction (like me) and aren’t necessarily looking for a romance novel, but one that deals with normal, everyday life and the struggles and joys we often face, this could be an excellent book for you. I appreciated that the author dealt with some tough topics (like adoption and difficult mothers-in-law) in this story; it never felt forced, but I was glad that it was there.

Have you read any historical fiction that really stood out to you lately?

Soft Solo Piano Music (without a price tag!)

// Leave a Comment

If you were to step into my bedroom at any point in the day, more than half the time you’d find me sitting at my desk, working away at some kind of project. And many times, I’ll have music playing in the background—sometimes quiet instrumental (mostly solo piano) pieces, other times louder ones when I’ve forgotten to turn it down. Because, yeah, that happens too. 🙂

I love listening to music—and sometimes wonder if I listen to it too much!—but it’s something I really enjoy in life. Music lightens the mood, it helps me focus when I’m trying to write, and it’s a beautiful representation of one aspect of God’s wonderful creation.

Over the years, I’ve accumulated a substantial collection of instrumental music, and though I still often resort to online radios, I’ve found myself using my own collection more and more frequently. And the best part of all? I’ve been able to build up my collection for free—and today, I’d like to share my top favorites of the free ones I’ve found with you.

Soft Solo Piano Music (without a price tag)
Credits: Photo by Paige Cody on Unsplash

A note before the list: One thing I always try to make sure of is that the “free” albums I’m downloading have been made available legally. Piracy is NOT something I want to be getting into, and I’m sure you don’t, either! There are quite a few songs on Youtube that are illegally uploaded (although I believe there is a good number that are legal, too—it just depends on the source). But several years ago, I discovered NoiseTrade. NoiseTrade is a place for artists to offer samples of their work to you for free, in exchange for adding you to their newsletter lists. Almost everything on NoiseTrade is stuff I don’t appreciate, but when I was on there recently, I kept track of the gems I found, and that’s what I want to share with you today. As far as I know, these are all put up by the original artists, so they should be legal. Check into it yourself—don’t take my word for it! I’m only sharing these since they have been a blessing to me, and hopefully they will be for you, too!

Unless otherwise stated, these are full solo piano albums. Most are from Christian artists, and many have hymns in them.

My favorites–soothing ones I love to have playing in the background (free on NoiseTrade):

Other nice instrumental albums (free on NoiseTrade):

  • 25 Solo Piano Hymns and Spiritual Songs by Ang Li (not quite as gentle as some I like, but a beautiful collection of hymns old and new—I’ll be keeping this one!)
  • Pursuit by Jana Van Ryn (beautiful worship songs; not as gentle as I like, but I still love this album!)
  • Sea of Glass by David Mahler (this is more instrumental; mainly dulcimer music, all eight songs inspired by the book of Revelations)
  • A Cup of Tea by Judah Banke (solo piano, but not always gentle—a fun one for tea lovers!)
  • Hymns at the Piano and Favorite Tunes at the piano by Frank Carter (not qute as gentle as some artists, but still nice)
  • Piano Collection, Vol 2 by Brandon Musser (Christian artist; not gentle playing, but has quite a few hymn albums—click on his name to see them all)
  • Solo Piano by Phil Madeira (jazz style; but not heavy-handed—nice to have in the background)

BONUS: Other artists I love listening to:

I thought I’d throw this in here, because I always enjoy seeing what other people listen to! This is not a complete list, but hopefully it will give you some more options! The links are to the artist “topic channels” on Youtube, so they aren’t ones I’ve found for free, but you can find them on Spotify or iHeart Radio or wherever else you get your music. These are not in any particular order–I appreciate them all.

Hopefully, that’s helpful! I’ve marveled before at how tensions can be rising over something, and then we turn some good music on, and everyone settles down again. I believe God has built into us an appreciation for good music, and it’s a wonderful way for us to value His goodness and the beauties of His creation more, too.

Do you have any favorite artists—ones I have mentioned, or some I’ve missed? Please share. I’m always on the lookout for more variety!

Strong, Yet Fragile

// Leave a Comment

Just over a month ago, I pulled out the last of our tomato plants for the year. The job had been waiting for several weeks already, and I finally had a sunny day when I didn’t feel pulled in other directions to focus on that and get it done.

As I cut the strings I’d used to hold the plants up in a woven-style system, I watched as each one drooped down further and further, its crown touching the earth it grew from. Four months earlier, these had been strong, healthy plants—sending out far more branches and leaves than I knew how to manage! It would have been a tough job to break the main stems in half, even had I tried to do so. But now—a simple pull and the dead branches parted without a struggle.

I pulled the strings out, keeping the ones that looked stronger, newer, and throwing the remainder—the second- and third-year strings—on the compost pile. One day, they’ll reenter our garden as fertilizer.

Then I pulled the willow posts out—ones that had been fresh, green wood at the beginning of the summer—which were now rotten off at the base, only worth finding their place in the firewood pile.

The plants came out next, rowed up in a neat furrow where, over the winter, all traces of what was once strong, vibrant green are now turning back into the soil they grew from.

Strong yet Fragile

How strong . . . and yet how fragile.

Yet as I think about my life—about how one day I could be strong, fit, and healthy and then facing a life-altering diagnosis or even death the next—I see myself in that rowed-up pile of dead vines.

We are all so strong, so full of life. And yet—something happens, and that’s the end.

Dust to dust.

Just like that.

I don’t tend to ponder my own mortality much, because apart from wondering how painful it could be to die, I’m not actually scared of death. I’m looking forward to what’s coming after—Jesus, and all the ones I love that are now on that side instead of this one.

It’s going to be beautiful. Way better than I can even imagine.

For now—the row of dead tomato vines, once mounded up, is slowly disappearing into the soil. The roll of tomato string supports was slid back onto its shelf is now waiting for another season. The rose trimmings are piled on the compost heap, waiting for the worms and weather and time to work their magic.

And next spring, when the earth seems to breathe in new life again, I’ll marvel at the absence of these things I can see now—these feeble, breakable branches—and at the presence of the One who designed perfect systems for use and recycling, strength and fragility, and value in many more levels than immediately meets the eye.

Have you been pondering any deep life lessons lately?

The Card Between the Endpapers

// Leave a Comment

It’s 10:27 am, and I’m sitting at my computer desk with my planner in front of me, telling me I need to write a blog post today. The only thing I can think of that was really noteworthy this week was something I discovered a couple of days ago—a little card stuck into a book I was given, and subsequently forgotten.

That became a special gift this week. When we took our family trip in December/January, we got to meet a sweet older couple whom we had heard about, but never had the chance to make the acquaintance of. The day after we visited them, we met up again with them in church, and she handed me a devotional, wrapped in paper, with a card on top.

It was a special gesture—one that I will treasure. The devotional was New Morning Mercies by Paul David Tripp, and earlier that month I’d had the blessing of reading some of his advent devotionals—so I was especially excited to get to read this one.

Since I was in the middle of another book at the time, though, I didn’t pick this one up right away. Just this week, I finished that other one (finally!), so I got to start reading this.

And opening that front cover, I saw the card she’d given me—lying forgotten between the red endpapers.

In the joy of the gift, of the unexpected friendship, I hadn’t taken a lot of time to study the card. But now, it was a gift.

End Papers

Their lives had been turned somewhat upside down by a family member getting very sick, but one thing I noticed when we visited them at their home was all the verses of hope and life that they had around—framed on the walls, on bits of paper underneath the clear plastic tablecloth—it was unmistakably a house of HOPE! And now, she’d slipped a little bit of that hope—that joy of theirs, even in the middle of a fight for life—into this book for me.

For this time? Perhaps. Or perhaps it was such sustenance to them that she thought it would be an encouragement to me, too. I don’t know.

But I do know this—she’s an inspiration. Her giving spirit was a blessing—we’ve only met that one time, but she gave me (and my family) gifts she thought would be helpful to us as we continued our travels. I doubt I’ll ever forget that.

Through this experience, I can only pray that the Lord will help me to be more open-handed, to be ready and willing to be a blessing however I can to those I meet. And I also pray that I can learn to focus on the blessings and promises of the Lord, no matter what earthly circumstances I face—as she and her family did during that rough time. The result is truly beautiful.

And, once again, I’m struck by the blessing of the wider Christian family . . . what a beautiful thing the Lord has created for us to enjoy!

How has someone else blessed you recently?