Palm

I'm not sure if I should blame the wild stitching on my first few panels on this bumpy fabric or my lack of skills. Okay, I am sure. I should have practiced on an old t-shirt or something.


My second filling of the bobbin took about a minute and a half. I was relieved because the first filing of the bobbin took three days.


I finally produced an even stitch.


My pinning area


The blur of concentration


So, apparently, spools of thread do run out. The handful housed in my grandmother's old sewing basket have lasted for many years of mending.


Tree trunks

Out of the six Christmas cards I received at church tonight, only one of them was for "Lisa Richards". Not bad.

Big Chair, Big Doughnut, Little Boy

These were taken on the drive home from visiting my family. Nothing exciting- I was just surprised by how clean the freeways look after a few days of rain.

Aw, Man. I Wish He Was Pro-Lisa.

I May Have Made A Huge Mistake

Our church's Living Nativity event is being held on the 18th and 19th of this month, and I have agreed to help make the palm trees. My sewing experience is pretty much limited to the time I turned a thrift store muumuu into this shirt. This project should be easy though... everything is pre-cut, and it's all straight lines. I just need to figure out how to fill the bobbin.

I'm Not Sure How Or Why This Started...

but Jen just sent these to me, and they sure made me giggle.

Want To Get The Temperature In Your House Above Sixty Degrees On A Snowy Day?

First, pick out a bread recipe, then wish that you had more upper body strength at around cup seven of flour,

Choose the smallest amount of counter space possible so that you repeatedly bump into the coffeepot.

Make some room on your entertainment center because it's likely the warmest spot in the joint.


Go to work for a few hours down in the office and hope your dough rises.




Bake, and relish all sixty-seven degrees!

Jen Calls This Look The "Alberta Einstein"

My Years As A Goat

Each day that passes as I live here on a mountaintop stands between my current self and that Oxnard girl. The change in me from one day to the next may be inappreciable, but I am astounded by what the Lord has accomplished in my heart over the last three years. I praise God for His faithfulness and grace as I walk.

Lately I have been hearing a lot of people talking about the "scary" verses of the Bible, like Matthew 7:23 in which Jesus delivers the chilling "I never knew you." And although I was introduced to the Lord at a very young age, I have seen myself in the description of those who have the appearance of godliness but deny its power- who understand but have not fully surrendered- who are lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God. I grew up in a church that boasts being saved by grace with a wink and a nudge. While this mindset is certainly not responsible for any of my poor decisions or pet sins, it gave some leverage to my rationalization of them, as I settled comfortably into self-sufficiency and an apathy toward relationship with my Savior. If you had asked me how I was doing during these years, of course, I would have said "Great!", and meant it.

Years ago, on a particularly slow day at Chili's, I was talking to Zach, who I had worked with for a year or so, about an event being held at his church. I asked where and when it would be, thinking that I might check it out. He smiled and asked: "Oh, are you a Christian?" and my heart just broke. Seriously, I felt like I had cracked apart and crumbled into a heap right there by the chip machine. How was it that this coworker of mine did not know to Whom I belonged? How was I conducting my life?

God used Zach's question to spawn an examination of my heart. Because He is merciful, He brought me out of the noise and into this quiet little town. He loves me enough to equip me to abide in Him, and to turn me into who He wants me to be. My wool is dingy, and my limbs are weak, but I'd rather be a runt in the flock than a big, fat goat.

From Dining Halls To Banquets And Balls

Welcome to your virtual tour of the oh-so-swank Broadmoor Resort in Colorado Springs. One of my favorite things about these conferences is watching camp people try to blend in at a luxury hotel and act like they're really not impressed by each of its niceties. It's also pretty entertaining watching them (well, us) open doors for Broadmoor employees and wipe down the counters in the restroom.



This is the best bed ever. I am now in the market for a two inch down mattress topper.











We camping folk only booked four days and three nights, but I took four showers and two baths in that time.





















Keith and I both wondered just how grand their ballroom was. He went over to sneak a peek, but was shooed away by the sounds of the wedding being held inside.









I'm not sure how this fits into their decorating scheme.



Many, many, many famous people have stayed at the Broadmoor.



You should have come Josh!





It was really nice whenever the sun was out, even with the bit of snow that fell, but it was a painfully cold 16 degrees the day we left.



It always takes me two or three days to get used to chitchatting with everyone with whom I make eye contact. I get the hang of it just in time to garner some strange looks at LAX.



I'm Lisa Richard. I carry a badge.