an ode to the treehouse

(forgot to post this....oops!)

Right now, I'm laying on the couch sprawled across a sleeping Ben. The blinds are pulled up all the way. Gusts of snow whiz past the windows. The white flakes fall from a dark gray sky, dusting the deck like powdered sugar on a cake. We're covered in our NFL fleece blankets -- Ben with the burgundy and yellow of redskins, me with the navy and gray of cowboys. The way it always is. The way it will always be. It must have been the soft lull of the heaters that sent Ben into a doze. They're stationed on the floor next to me and croon quietly, whispering warmth into the A-frame treehouse that we've called home for nearly 8 months. I glance around, silently totaling up the memories.

Its outward appearance isn't much. Cramped. Outdated. No dishwasher or central air. A single closet tucked into the wall where hangers overlap each other on the rod. The clothes stuffed in so tightly they begin to peak out and prevent the door from closing shut. Slanted ceilings. Narrow kitchen. Stained glass. A lavender quilt on the bed. Cozy velvety couch. French doors. Lace tablecloth. Smell of a log cabin. Gazebo in the yard. Steps slippery from ice. Ruts in the dirt driveway from car wheels.   I think it's important to remember the details. The details surrounding us...they mark the setting of precious scenes. Scenes from our newlywed life: The Treehouse edition.

Scenes.

Like right now. The house is cluttered. Ben hates it this way. I should get up and do something. Fold the heap of laundry. Clean the dishes from lunch.…start packing. But instead I sit, adjust the blanket to cover my toes, shift my weight which causes Ben to stir, and sip my coffee that's no longer hot. There is a bouquet of vibrant flowers in a vase nearby. Tulips. Carnations. Daisies. A reminder that spring is threatening the blister of cold with change and new life.

Seasons. 

Our season at the treehouse is coming to a close. We bid it goodbye with warm wishes and thankfulness for its role in our story. We will forever love it. And one day, we may even miss it.

  

travel bucket-list: update #3

PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND

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Where? North, north, north. A small island in Canada. Near my home island, Newfoundland.
Why? It's the setting of my absolute favorite book/movie. It's the dreamy home of a fictional character whose spunk, imagination, and luster for life helped rear me from childhood into adulthood. Red-headed Anne Shirley captivated my heart once upon a time and settled there, reminding me to lift my chin, to write even when I have nothing to say, to be wild and untamed, and to hold out for my own Gilbert Blythe. I want to see the places that inspired her. Green Gables. White Way Delight. Lake of Shining Waters. The Haunted Woods. I want to stand on the sand dunes and feel the wind whip through my hair. Drink Raspberry Cordial in the warmth of the afternoon. Spread a blanket out on rolling pastures and burry my head in a book. Stand along the shore and peer out at the horizon while counting my blessings. I find a certain solace in that girl with the straw hat and strong will. I trust her. I think it's okay to trust a girl with a freckled face and unwavering belief in kindred spirits…don't you? I think it's okay to dream of stealing away to a place tucked away in the corner of a continent; a place put on the map by an author who saw a story and told it brilliantly and beautifully.

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first christmas for mr. & mrs. rothwell

{so late, I know…but life doesn't slow down for a blog…nope}

On Christmas night, as we drove home to the Treehouse after the craziness of all the festivities, Ben reached over and squeezed my hand. Something about this gentle gesture, although normal, caused me to look away from my iPhone and focus on my husband.

"This was the best Christmas I've ever had." He said, his voice quivering just a bit with emotion (shhhh don't tell him I told you).

So what could top last year when he showed up out of nowhere...wearing a suit, walking with confidence across the room, surprising me with a diamond, and telling me he wanted me forever? I mean, that was pretty perfect as far as Christmases go.

This time around, it wasn't a huge life-altering moment. It was a thousand moments stringed together -- like popcorn garland wrapped around a tree. A year later and a wedding later, we welcomed Christmas with new family: his becoming mine and mine becoming his, which naturally meant getting more gifts! But it wasn't the material excess that made the sweetness of the season. It was all the seemingly nothings, that turned into seamless everythings. It was the melodies of christmas songs drifting us to sleep, the quiet mornings when sunlight woke us instead of alarms, the "12 dates of christmas" adventures, the illuminated tree becoming our night-light -- it was the continual counting of gifts filled with grace that made it a truly special holiday.

One noteworthy gift I will never forget was Christmas morning, 7:30am, just the two of us cross-legged on the floor in the living room, straight-up acting like children. Ben presented me with my {material} gifts, but really he was unknowingly giving me so much more than that. First, he wrapped all of them himself. A miracle. Second, he tagged them and wrote a descriptive word that correlated the contents beneath the wrapping paper to his perspective of my character (he is so gracious and generous!)

i.e.

to my organized wife (a planner)
to my stylish wife (cardigans)
to my sweet wife (chocolate!!!!)
to my intelligent wife (a book)
to my dazzling wife (glitzy arm candy)
to my blonde wife (knit headband)
to my cozy wife (slippers & leg warmers)

etc.

It was a small moment between Ben and myself when I read those tags, savoring the words even more than whatever I would find inside. It was a quiet, meek beginning to Christmas morning. Not huge and abundant and extravagant. But it was exactly what put us in the true spirit of giving. The kind of giving that doesn't cost anything. The giving that comes from the heart and not the wallet. It was merely life-giving words. From my husband. Written on DIY gift-tags (for goodness sake, I cut Christmas trees out of paint swatches from Home Depot…totally didn't spend a dime).

The Lord gives in this way. He paid the highest price for us to receive a FREE gift -- the gift of salvation from the bondage of sin, the gift of grace despite our messy selves. Just like Ben did for me, God generously offers us life-giving words that can transform us and help us overcome. These words are found in Galatians 5: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, & self-control. These words I will treasure for always. The Lord's gift I will guard in my heart forever. Christmas truly is about that gift -- God himself -- who gave Christmas morning a humble beginning. He left paradise to be with his creation. And he came not as a strong, abled man, but as a baby -- a small, dependent, fragile baby. Birthed so we could experience re-birth.

With reminders like that, I'd say I agree with Ben: this was the best christmas ever. Because I serve a bountiful God who never stops bestowing our lives with richness and joy.

i.e.

christmas 2012: so happy

christmas 2013: even happier

pssst: guest posting

I was privileged to be a contributing writer at His Ladyship, an online community that empowers women everywhere to embrace their inner royalty. Two of the founders are my dear sisters and I'm so honored to join in their mission to see destinies be discovered.

CLICK HERE to read my article about the fiery redheaded princess who made childhood a little sweeter with her spunk, songs, and story.

And while you're there, be sure to check out the entire series entitled, A Return to Fairy Tales!

twenty thirteen

I am proud of the year twenty thirteen. I spent half of it preparing to be married and the other half privileged to be married. I stared change in the face and conquered it. The biggest telltale sign being the former Destiny Morrow replaced with Destiny Rothwell. I started my own (very small) family, exercising strength to leave my (very large) family in order to do so. I got a dream job, kept house, changed my hair, watched tolerated redskins games, folded towers of boxers, walked the foundation of our future home, and endured sharing a bed with someone who clearly never learned how to share a bed. 

Twenty thirteen was good to me. In fact, on New Year's Eve, I woke up feeling hesitant to let it go. It was as if I refused to unclench my fists and open my hands to let more in. What if what's ahead doesn't live up to what we left behind in that beautiful year of bliss?

“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”   ~Isaiah 43:18 & 19

our LAST photo from the year we got hitched…peace OUT!

So yes. I may not have control of what comes. So yes. I may not be able to foresee what I will face. But I am confident. And with God, I am courageous. It will be a year of victory, wonder, and significance. He is making the way and because of that, I live with excited expectancy!

twenty thirteen was the year of change.

twenty fourteen is the year to charge forward.

pajama party

Ever since this morning when I opened the front door to a yard full of glistening frost, stacks of leaves outlined in white ice, and Ben aggressively scraping my windshield, I knew it would be the perfect night to make a pot of extra spicy chili, wear flannel PJs, and cuddle up for a christmas movie.

So we did just that. And found ourselves smiling at each other and tickled by our little ability to somehow get our wardrobe choice to coincide with our movie choice.

Say a man and a woman both need something to sleep in and both go to the same men's pajama department. The man says to the salesman, "I just need bottoms," and the woman says, "I just need a top." They look at each other…  ~ The Holiday

rothwell revisions

A few nights ago, Ben announced he got a new album--and that I would love it (reason #98372 why I love him). It was a few hours later that I was reminded just how well he knows me when he loaded the car CD player and hit play. Instant love for track 2.

As Ben & I celebrate our FIRST CHRISTMAS as man & wife, I've figuratively grabbed this song to carry with me throughout the season. The soaring melody serves as my sweet reminder that new is okay. Revision is good. Christmas is magical. And our love wins always.

It's with happiness and a bit of heaviness that I welcome this truly "new Christmas" for Ben & myself. The reoccurring familiar is gone -- the comfort of my childhood home with the heat from the fireplace and the twinkling tree with 27 years of ornaments collected on its branches. The loud voices of children who make long lists of what they want and actually believe the man in red will see to every request. Dad's waffles and Mama's brunch egg casserole. The toy snowman that counts down the days until Christmas. All nighters where we sit on the hard wood floor and wrap gifts, always running out of tape because there are just so. many. presents. to. wrap.

But as newlyweds, it's such fun finding out our brand of Christmas and then capturing those ideals to make our very own rendition of the holidays: the Rothwell Rendition. Like spontaneously going to Walmart for sugar cookies and hot chocolate on the coldest day of the year. Forgoing redbox to instead dig through the $5 movie bin in search of a christmas movie on which we BOTH can agree. Perusing gingerbread houses, trying to decide if we want a village, or just a house. Spending too much on warm holiday drinks at Starbucks. Arguing in Hobby Lobby about colored lights vs. white lights. Rationalizing $60 being worth tickets for Christmas Town at Busch Gardens. Crafting garland bunting and gift tags with scrapbook paper from Target and paint swatches from Home Depot. Planning a fancy dinner date amidst the holiday parties where we can actually dress up for each other and spend a night celebrating together. Building our own meek ornament collection. 

This song says it all. It calms me. It makes me confident. I love my little life with my husband. And I love the holidays, the cold, the newness, and especially the moments that will repeat year after year in what will become known as….

our traditions.

"Snow" 

Sleeping At Last

The branches have traded their leaves for white sleeves

All warm-blooded creatures make ghosts as they breathe

Scarves are wrapped tightly like gifts under trees

Christmas lights tangle in knots annually

Our families huddle closely 

Betting warm against the cold

But our bruises seem to surface

Like mud beneath the snow

So we sing carols softly, as sweet as we know

A prayer that our burdens will lift as we go

Like young love still waiting under mistletoe

We'll welcome December with tireless hope

Let our bells keep on ringing

Making angels in the snow

May the melody disarm us

When the cracks begin to show

Like the petals in our pockets

May we remember who we are

Unconditionally cared for

By those who share our broken hearts

The table is set and our glasses are full

Though pieces go missing, may we still feel whole

We'll build new traditions in place of the old

'Cause life without revision will silence our souls

As gentle as feathers, the snow piles high

Our world gets rewritten and retraced every time

Like fresh plates and clean slates, our future is white

New year's resolutions will reset tonight

hello, charlotte!

Ben is the lucky one. I never win anything, but he always scores big...like winning a 2 night stay at a Marriott in Charlotte, North Carolina.

So why not? We marked our calendars, ducked out of work early, and headed south for a weekend.

We didn't have much on the agenda, in fact, we were pretty boring while there. Our fun consisted of long walks through Freedom Park, afternoon drives in old neighborhoods with southern mansions shaded by tall oaks, two hours spent in wide-eyed wonder as first-timers at IKEA, a Diners, Drive-Ins & Dives tour organized by Ben Rothwell himself, antique mall shopping, and a visit to Elevation Church. 

We slept in every morning only to lazily trudge down to the full breakfast buffet, still in our sweats, of course. We ate oversized omelets. We leisurely sipped on coffee. With nowhere to be & nothing to do, we let conversation run wild, refilling our mugs repeatedly before finally neglecting the little table for two by the window. 

It was a quiet weekend. A weekend where I looked at the man in the driver's seat next to me or across the table from me or whose hand was in mine, and thought, yes, yes, yes, YES. A weekend where we decided to take the scenic route whenever we punched our next destination into the GPS. A weekend where we ate double dinners due to restaurant hopping. A weekend where we craned our necks and peered out windows to see all we could of this new place full of new experiences. A weekend where we drank the brisk air and embraced all the shades of fall. A weekend where we stopped the pace and centered on the peace. 

 A weekend of gifts, grace, gratitude.

"this gift will never let you down; this gift is waiting to be found"

This week I made an effort to list 20 gifts that have been flooding my life. Daily gifts that are discovered when I stop. recognize. embrace. and name. They may seem small -- insignificant to some -- silent, or simple. But to me they are beautiful and remind me that I have a beautiful life.

Here is the beginning of my goal to name one thousand gifts:

1. an earnest compliment from a sister
2. healthful meals after a salted caramel mocha splurge
3. my husband's oversized thermal shirts that fit just right when pulled over a pair of knees that are hugged to the chest on chilly nights at The Treehouse
4. a pot of chili simmering on the stove, announcing itself with aromas that escape the kitchen and roam throughout the house
5. my grandmother never, ever forgetting my birthday
6. $1 breakfast burritos on the weekends
7. boutique shopping where they sell the most darling dresses and give you your purchases in chevron gift bags adorned with ribbon bows
8. virginia mountains in the fall -- always hues of blue despite the exploding fire colors
9. listening to a whole album from start to finish and finding you love every song
10. the fall foliage that covers my parents' yard, taking me back to all those childhood afternoons spent begrudgingly raking crunchy leaves
11. scooping extra apple butter onto a toasted English muffin
12. that gravel road that takes me home -- the slowing of pace, the pops of rocks under the tires, and the tips of hundreds of trees bending to meet like an arch
13. french pressed coffee with mama, hearing about her dreams, and sharing an omelet on the patio of one of our favorite restaurants downtown
14. unable to resist biting into the reddest of apples while plucking them from trees at the orchard
15. walking through the door after a long day to find my husband cooking dinner amidst a cloud of steam in the kitchen
16. movie nights where we ditch the couch and spread blankets out on the living room floor
17. peeking into the oven (even though I know better) to see if the sugar on top of my homemade pie is sparkling yet
18. Ben's car parked in the driveway every day...still in total dreamland that we live together
19. birthday letters & cards in the mail
20. my favorite pair of strong arms sneaking around my frame from behind; a sweet embrace of interruption

*My quest for gratitude was inspired by the God-fearing, fascinating, and fellow canadian Ann Voskamp.  She is the author of the New York Times bestselling book, One Thousand Gifts. And it's been changing my life...one quiet moment at a time. Click HERE to hear a little tid-bit from the lady herself, click HERE to read her daily blog, and click HERE to purchase her book! 

you are a collection

"For He will conceal me in His shelter in the day of adversity; He will hide me under the cover of His tent; He will set me high on a rock" -- Psalm 27:5

Recently, I learned (thanks to that powerhouse preacher, Beth Moore) that the Hebrew word used in this passage for "conceal" is tsaphan, meaning "to hide" or "treasure up." The substituted meaning totally changed my perspective:

"He will treasure me up in His shelter in the day of adversity"

He will treasure me up. Treasure me up! 

I instantly envisioned the Lord gathering up all parts of me -- the good & bad, the confidence & the insecurity, the greatness & the shame, the faithfulness & the discontentment -- and holding it ALL close to Him. He becomes the shelter over us, our true hiding place where he is more than sufficient in guarding, covering, and concealing. He treasures every detail of who we are and gathers it near to Him. 

The illustration that immediately came to mind - as I was nestled on the couch jotting down prayers - was an image of my mama's china set, carefully stored away from her everyday dishes. White. Shiny gold rims on the teacups. Whimsical pink roses swooping across the glass. A precious collection.   

He will treasure you up. Gather all parts of you. And hold you gently. 

YOU are a precious collection -- just like a china set -- that Jesus is seeking to complete. And he longs for all the pieces that together comprise YOU as YOU.  

But let's admit it...at times we're ashamed of the all the different pieces that make us who we are. And we just want to keep them  wrapped in newspaper and stored away under lock and key. We don't want them being seen or used. We convince ourselves they're not adequate enough to create that hostess-worthy, picture-perfect place setting that we all want to display for others...instead our pieces seem scattered, disassembled, and definitely not ready for company to sit down at our table of life and catch a glimpse.

We look at ourselves as fragile. Maybe we even have broken pieces and we're jagged and sharp. We feel incomplete, even disposable. If we're a collection, we feel like we should be sold, traded, replaced.

But the Lord doesn't see the brokenness -- only the beauty. In His eyes, we are hand painted, hand crafted, dazzling like gold, purposefully curved and molded, transparent like crystal in the eyes of our Maker.

Like my mother's tea set, or something similar that's displayed in the window of an antique shop...these collections each have a story. They have value. They are coveted, preserved. They represent a cherished heritage and are used for the best of guests. 

The same goes for you. THESE are the things His Word says you are:

Designed (Psalm 139:13)
Crafted (Isaiah 64:8)
Admired (Zephaniah 3:17)
Wanted (Luke 19:10)
Chosen (John 15:16)
Bought (1 Corinthians 7:23)
Displayed (Psalm 8:4-6)
Useful (Ephesians 2:10)

God seeks to collect every aspect of your character and your heart in order to fully KNOW YOU. He views you as a precious collection that is proudly acclaimed, sought-after, and rare, no -- better, ONE OF A KIND!

So don't dwell on those little cracks and smudge marks. The chips or fading paint. No, instead hold fast to this truth:

"My GRACE is sufficient for you, for my POWER is made PERFECT in WEAKNESS." -- 2 Corinthians 12:9

He is the maker of perfection. He has created you to be a beautiful collection. And he is gathering you, treasuring you, and hiding you under his mighty shelter.

"He tends his flock like a shepherd: He GATHERS the lambs IN HIS ARMS and CARRIES THEM CLOSE TO HIS HEART" -- Isaiah 40:11