baby and baby mama

Aren’t baby shower presents and decorations the cutest?

I’m pretty much in love with tulle.

Who wouldn’t be, at less than a buck a yard?

Practically free, if you use your JoAnn 40% off coupon.

Once you give the gift, the baby mama can find another good use for it.

Like decorating the nursery for the baby.

Okay…  or regifting to another baby mama.

Come on, you know you do that too.

I got to dress up some gifts recently for a sweet first time baby mama, Katherine. They’re expecting baby Abigail this Fall and have decorated her nursery in brown and pink. Still a cute combo, in my opinion.

Something about tulle makes a basket o’ goodies seem like a real gift.

Extra tulle = perfect tissue paper replacement in gift bags.

Next time you want to put something special together for a baby and baby mama, use tulle.

Instant beautification.

Let me know how it goes!

love, allison

thai jealous

Yes, I’m aware of my painfully obvious hiatus from love, allison. No need to rub it in. Or text me approximately nineteen times over an eighteen day span.

I get it.

I owe you one.

Or several.

So before I find hours to sit down and tell you about all the things and thoughts happening in this world and this brain, I couldn’t help but cheat and share a teaser picture. (If nothing else but to make myself feel better.)

Thai food.

Pineapple chicken, actually.

Served in a very unique (and so scrumptious!) way.

Isn’t it pretty?

Spicy too.

Borderline make your nose suddenly unstuffy spicy.

And no, I’m not above taking photos of my meal before I dig in, even if other diners look at me strangely.

They might’ve taken a photo, too, if their Pad Thai looked anything like this.

It didn’t.

Bet they were jealous.

It’s simply not my fault that I’m a great orderer.

If that were a word.

On that pretend prideful note, I’m off.

love, allison

knack

I must have a knack for finding random things when I shop. Does this happen to anyone other than me?

A couple of weeks ago, while dropping off clothes to consign, I spied a dress for sale that I didn’t have time to try on. It was made by an expensive designer. In the deep magenta/plum color family. And beautiful. Listed for a mere $40 plus 25% off. The best part? It had pockets! [Insert dreamy music here…]

It crossed my mind the other day to stop in and see if it was still there. Good fortune! It was. So I snatched it up, tried it on, and plunged my hands in the pockets.

Treasure! My right hand hit gold.

A note! On butterfly paper, no less. I sat down in the dressing room prepared to find read a grocery list. Nope!

It was a handwritten wedding toast, penned by the bride’s younger sister and stuck in the pocket of the beautiful magenta/plum dress at the wedding! The toast was too nice not to share, besides, it’s the only thing I walked out of the store with. Dress = too big. Ugh.

Without further ado:

First of all, I would like to say “Congratulations” to such an amazing couple. You have both surrounded yourself and have been blessed with such wonderful people and it is an honor to be a part of this exciting day.

Michalla – in every aspect of your life, you have truly given it your all. Your lively spirit is contagious and I love watching you succeed in everything you do. You deal with hard times with grace and you have such an unparalleled sense of balance in your life. You play such an imporant and special role in so many of our lives: daughter, friend, granddaughter, mother. What an amazing best friend and sister you have been to me through the years. I couldn’t ask for someone better to laugh with and cry with and share moments like this with. I am so happy for you. You are simply beautiful.

There is no question in my mind that you, Bob, will treat my big sister like the princess she is.

Congratulations and best wishes!!!

Congratulations, Michalla and Bob, whoever you are. Michalla, although you sister didn’t like her dress enough to keep it in her closet, I think you have impeccable taste.

love, allison

camp conversations, take two.

A couple of weeks ago, I spent a week with junior girls at camp. We had more fun and ate more candy in our Oaks 4 cabin than should have been allowed. Even with walking hills and playing rec games in the heat all day, there was never a moment when I was hungry. There was also never a dull moment.

I shared with you some of the funny things that were said in my cabin throughout our week, so I thought it appropriate to share some of the insightful, spiritual moments we had in our small group as well. But, before I give you a list, let me brag on these girls. They were top notch. They knew their Bibles. They were sharp. That excited me. I’d gone to camp as a last-minute addition when another chaperone dropped out and was seriously blessed and left challenged by their statements and questions. During our small group or one-on-one times I had to dig deep to answer some of their questions and humbly admit that sometimes I just didn’t know. I was not expecting that! So much for an easy, peasy week addressing things like “does God always love me?” or “why should I have a regular quiet time?” Nope, these girls were on top of their game. I loved it!

Here’s a small sampling of some of the spiritual camp conversations from my girls:

1. I really struggle with Limited Atonement. Not because it contradicts Scripture, but because I have a hard time dealing with it when I think about my family and friends.

2. I know I’m not living the way Christ commands me to, but I’m not ready to do it. I could tell you all that I’m going to change right now, but it’s not the truth. At least I’m not afraid to be honest with myself and God. Some of you are still lying to yourselves.

3. I want you all to ask me the tough questions. I want you to ask me if I’ve spent time reading the Bible. I want you to ask me how my prayer life is going. I want you to ask me if I’ve had a good attitude with my parents and if I’m doing my best in school. I want you to ask me if I’m sharing Christ with my friends. I’m ready for accountability.

4. Camp is always some “mountain top” experience, but what about in two weeks? Or a month. Or a year. Are we going to be having these same conversations at camp next summer? What’s going to change when we go home and back to school? And what does that look like in my life?

5. I used to cut myself. I hate my parents. My mom and I went to counseling. I’ve had bad relationships with ex-boyfriends. But I think God is changing my heart and I’m scared.

6. I’d really like to know the best way to confront a friend about sin. I’m afraid to do it alone but I don’t understand how to talk to someone else without it seeming like gossip. What does God think I should do?

7. How can I know if I’m called to ministry?

8. I don’t understand how to desire God. I mean, I want to want God, but I don’t. What am I doing wrong?

9. My boyfriend and I broke up today because we don’t think we should give time to a relationship when we’re not giving time to God.

10. How can I explain God and what He’s done in my life to my friends without sounding totally crazy? Like I’m in some cult that believes in some magical invisible person that controls my life.

See? These girls were wrestling with some serious questions and Biblical truths. It was beautiful to watch them talk things through, pray for one another, set up accountability, and search Scripture for answers they weren’t sure about. It was such a privilege to facilitate those things and watch them discover things about themselves and Christ.

The girls and I are planning a reunion of sorts in the upcoming weeks. Maybe Mellow Mushroom?! I’m excited to hear about the life change that has happened since camp and to share a few more laughs. I’d love if you’d be praying for them and the way God is shaping their hearts and for me too, as I encourage them and remain challenged to seek wisdom through God’s Word as I share with them.

love, allison

the kid that jumps

I’ve been learning so much this summer about faith. I know that sounds basic and simple. Elementary, if you will. But the kind of faith that has been brewing inside of me is so much more than the bogus illustration I heard as a pre-teen: “faith is like believing that when you sit down in a chair it won’t break.”

Um. That’s not the kind of faith I’ve been impressed and convicted to show. I’ve probably sat in thousands of chairs and not one has made me think about its abilities before I bent my knees and plopped down. The kind of faith that has recently resonated in my heart is the faith that makes God look good. The kind of faith that says “God is the only way this won’t fail.” The kind of faith that is not me-centered, doesn’t prove anything about my skills, my trust, my gusto, or my bravery.

I’ve been praying for that kind of faith. Faith to trust. Faith to believe… and act. So many times it’s been easy for me to claim faith but leave the second part of the equation out. Action. I can say I have faith all day long, but if I don’t do anything about it, is it really faith? God doesn’t want that from me. He wants me to pull the trigger. Go out on a limb. Jump. Because when I do those things, it makes Him look awesome. Notice I didn’t say it makes me look awesome. It makes Him look like the hero. That’s exactly the point.

I love this!

Recently I was reading a little John Piper, and came across this illustration that talks about the exact kind of God-glorifying faith He has been stirring in my heart.

Your daddy is standing in a swimming pool out a little bit from the edge. You are, let’s say, three years old and standing on the edge of the pool. Daddy holds out his arms to you and says, “Jump, I’ll catch you. I promise.” Now, how do you make your daddy look good at that moment? Answer: trust him and jump. Have faith in him and jump. That makes him look strong and wise and loving. But if you won’t jump, if you shake your head and run away from the edge, you make your daddy look bad. It looks like you are saying, “he can’t catch me” or “he won’t catch me” or “it’s not a good idea to do what he tells me to do.” And all three of those make your dad look bad.

But you don’t want to make God look bad. So you trust him. Then you make him look good–which he really is. And that is what we mean when we say, “Faith glorifies God” or “Faith gives God glory.” It makes him look as good as he really is. So trusting God is really important.

And the harder it seems for him to fulfill his promise, the better he looks when you trust him. Suppose that you are at the deep end of a pool by the diving board. You are four years old and can’t swim, and your daddy is at the other end of the pool. Suddenly a big, mean dog crawls under the fence and shows his teeth and growls at you and starts coming toward you to bite you. You crawl up on the diving board and walk toward the end to get away from him. The dog puts his front paws up on the diving board. Just then, your daddy sees what’s happening and calls out, “Johnny, jump in the water. I’ll get you.”

Now, you have never jumped from one meter high and you can’t swim and your daddy is not underneath you and this water is way over your head. How do you make your daddy look good in that moment? You jump. And almost as soon as you hit the water, you feel his hands under your arms and he treads water holding you safely while someone chases the dog away. Then he takes you to the side of the pool.

We give glory to God when we trust him to do what he has promised to do–especially when all human possibilities are exhausted. Faith glorifies God. That is why God planned for faith to be the way we are justified.

So here I am, telling you that…

I don’t want to stand at the edge of the pool saying, “yeah, I believe you can catch me Dad, but I don’t really feel like swimming. How about some other time?”

I don’t want to desperately cling to the edge with my toes, waiting and waiting and waiting for the appropriate amount of courage. Let’s face it. The appropriate amount of courage won’t come.

I don’t want to sit down on the edge in defeat and slide into the water, without giving up my death grip on the wall.

I also don’t want to walk away for a few moments and come back with floaties firmly placed on each arm, goggles and a tube around my waist.

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I want to be the kid that jumps.

With abandon.

No floaties.

No goggles.

No idea how to swim.

Trusting my Dad is going to be there.

You know what?

He’ll be there.

And He’s going to look like a total hero.

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Jump with me?

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love, allison

bessie

You know what I’ve always wanted? Cows. Specifically a baby cow, which, is pretty surprising since I saw one birthed at the State Fair when I was younger and I should be traumatized by the fact that it required a farmer pulling chains around the baby’s legs and a three-foot drop to the ground.

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I heard a rumor that cows have personalities like dogs. Friendly, trainable, and loyal. Call them, they come. Feed them, they love you forever.

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Doesn’t that sound nice?

See, you want a cow too.

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How fun would it be to have this guy hanging out behind your house? Chewing cud and regurgitating it so that it finally heads down to his fourth stomach.

Okay, that part is gross. Really gross.

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Aside from not having a farm, the reality is, I’m not going to get a cow or five. Because normal people don’t. Perhaps I’ll just settle for one of these guys one day, when I have the perfect locale for it.

Morbid?

I think not.

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Hey. This too could be yours. Ikea, my friends. Ikea.

Home of all things cheap and quirky.

Cowhide rug.

C’mon. You know you want one too.

Or, if you’re feeling benevolent, I prefer the brown and white to the black and white.

Just in case.

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love, allison

even better

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Remember the blueberry cobbler I made for my neighbor Jan?

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Well, she called last week to tell me she’d made a triple berry cobbler and wanted to share.

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That would’ve been great, except she included the words, “it’s even better than your blueberry cobbler.”

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Great, Jan.

You win.

Please, rub it in.

It feels awesome.

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love, allison

by 17,893 miles

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I’m just going to throw it out there and say…

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Mellow Mushroom has the best pizza ever.

Hands down.

It’s the winner.

By 17,893 miles.

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There. I said it.

My fave?

Pepperoni and pineapple.

It’s not weird.

Cast your judgement somewhere else.

Like on the people that order anchovies.

Or tempeh.

Which, I have not tried, by the way.

So don’t send me any mean comments.

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Back to the issue at hand.

Don’t try to tell me that you love Papa John’s or that Pizza Hut trumps the Mello.

It doesn’t. Plain and simple.

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If you haven’t been, you ought to.

Look ’em up.

Enjoy the cool vibe.

And the waiters with tattoos.

..

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Don’t forget to order enough for leftovers.

There’s nothing better than pizza for breakfast.

Mellow Mushroom pizza, that is.

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Tip of the day.

You’re welcome.

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love, allison

at it again.

I’m at it again. I got the itch. Couldn’t shake the monkey from my back.

That’s right. I’m crafting. Busy turning treasures from stash. Making (pretty!) things out of supplies I have buried in boxes and bins. Ribbon and buttons and fabric and paper, galore.

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The latest?

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A bouquet of fabric flowers.

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Cute huh?

Not too hard, either.

Nothing scissors and glue can’t master.

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You should make some.

In a fabric of your liking.

Mine was a freebie.

Given to me by a former volunteer, one state and 4.5 hours away.

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Anyway, these puppies are sassy when fastened on bobby pins, clips, or headbands.

Believe me, I know.

And now you all know what you’re getting for Christmas.

As for me?

I’ll continue making my Christmas in August projects.

Today, fabric flowers.

Tomorrow, who knows.

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love, allison

under the pear tree

Hey, hey, hey.

Look who just got a blue ribbon mention at the lovely Under the Pear Tree.

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It wasn’t Oprah.

Or Lindsey Lohan.

Or Mel Gibson.

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Nope.

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Not the Obamas.

Paris Hilton.

Nor Facebook creator, Mark Zuckerberg.

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It was me! Well, love, allison, if you want to get technical.

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And while I’m bragging, patting myself on the back, and huffing on my knuckles before rubbing them on my shirt, I’m going to go ahead and quote the kind compliment bestowed upon love, allison.

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On a scale of 1 to funny, this blog is hilarious. – Lindsay T., Under the Pear Tree

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Well, faithful readers. That can only mean one thing:

You’re following what could be a ground-breakingly humorous blog.

Way to go, you trendsetters.

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Okay, okay. I’m teasing. In fact, Lindsay from Under the Pear Tree is a great friend (and stellar musician!) who is being far too liberal with her “hilarious” rating. No, I didn’t bribe her for the plug. I’m not that shameless. But in case I needed a reality check, my brother was quick to the rescue.

Me: “I’m funny.”

Him: “False.”

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Yep, Lindsay is kind.

Way too kind.

And I, friends, am humbly admitting that I’m not that funny.

When I’m sleeping.

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love, allison

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P.S. you can check out some of Lindsay’s music here.