View from the Prairie Box

Daniel Meigs has posted images from Andrew and Jenny’s wedding. Go check them out!

Feast your eyes upon these images because they are the last of my Andrew & Jenny wedding pics. As soon as the wonderful, super talented Daniel Meigs walked in the salon door on the actual wedding day, I put down my camera. It was time to put on my bridesmaid and mother-to-flowergirl hat and put the photographer hat down. That being said, if you’re on Facebook you can see albums full of fabulous wedding photos—what a great day it was, too!

After our Moms and Sister Breakfast Friday, I went back up Lookout Mountain and joined my little family for a few hours. We drove to the old Mountain Fountain for lunch (it’s Cafe on the Corner now) where I ate one of the best salads ever and we had really attentive and kind wait staff care for us. Then we enjoyed views from The Incline and my knees felt only the tiniest bit wobbly. I can’t fathom living on the very edge of Lookout like some folks do. Before going to Covenant College I used to have terrible dreams about accidentally slipping off the side of the mountain. Clearly I’m now a 100% plains girl; no worrisome terrain here in Lincoln, Nebraska!

Friday evening found us at Northshore Pres for the wedding rehearsal. Lawtons and Pankratzs met up alongside Andrew and Jenny’s friends. One of the joys of that evening, for me at least, was realizing how great A&J’s friends are. I’m so grateful they have this awesome community of friends in Chattanooga! This fact became more evident as we watched how their friends helped support them before, during and after the ceremony and reception. They were wonderful.

I love so many of these images. There’s Uncle Steve beaming at me above the heads of Jenny and her dad. Andrew greeting his new family at the church door. Dressed-in-plaid cousins Livia and Madeleine. The hilarious duo of Patty and Meg. Adorable and shy ring bearers (who donned navy bowties for the actual ceremony—they were killer). Nana and her granddaughters caught in a squeeze. Andrew and Jenny looking tres cool and very in love as they walked into the rehearsal dinner.

It was a huge joy to celebrate the beginning of this marriage among family and friends.

Jeremy, Livia and I flew into Chattanooga a bit later than expected last Thursday night. (Thank you, Delta, for the delay that had us chasing standby seats for hours. Apart from that snafu, you did well.) We drove up Lookout Mountain to our guest lodging at Covenant College in the dark—no beautiful scenery visible, but oh those twinkling lights of Chattanooga far below! I love Lookout Mountain.

The next day I walked into Hampton Inn’s lobby and found both my folks and brothers waiting to get the day started. A photo opp with my grown siblings is a rarity indeed. Thanks to dad for getting this shot!

My soon-to-be sister-in-law hosted a breakfast for moms and sisters at The Blue Plate. None of us had met each other yet and bonding over a delicious breakfast was a perfect way to start the wedding weekend. I’m still thinking about the pancake I ate, or tried to eat. It was huge and so darn good.

This handsome guy is clearly not a mom or sister. His name is Burl and he is adorable. His mama Meg blogs at A Barefoot Day—besides being one of the funniest gals around, she has a great eye for design.

I came around the farmhouse after the ceremony and found the newlyweds on the porch, taking in a few brief moments for themselves. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a bride as confident and happy and absolutely relaxed as Jenny. My brother is a lucky man indeed.

Congratulations, Andrew and Jenny! We love you guys.

Me: Livia is making me CRAZY!
Jeremy: Well, sometimes *you* make people crazy.

Can’t argue with him there.

As delightful as dark rainy mornings are, they are not my favorite when it comes to getting Livia ready for school. We’re a family of sleeper-inners. All summer long we would sleep until 9am and then we’d slowly get up and get moving. Alas, the public school system doesn’t care to start their day when the sloth-like Tredways walk through the door. They have a start time and an end time that must be respected.

Motivating my seven-year-old to complete her morning tasks and walk into first grade on time is a challenge. It’s a challenge that I often screw up entirely. I have a love/hate relationship with timeliness where each minute I seem to get more wound-up about being late. I become something of a pressure cooker and then I explode with statements like the one above. And truly, no one looks crazier than me when I’m yelling, “Livia is making me CRAZY!” Oh yeah? Well, you’re looking like a nut yourself, mama.

This morning I watched my child walk ever so slowly down the hall to meet her teacher at the door to her classroom. (She’s the same kid at home, at school and everywhere after all.) As I opened my umbrella and walked back out into the rain, I felt like weeping over my sin. I really wish I hadn’t hollered at Liv this morning. I really wish I was more creative in my approach toward her. I really wish I had handled myself with more self-control. But deep down, I *really* wish I didn’t have to apologize for my behavior, that I could be perfect on my own.

I am being drawn to Christ.

I am not drawing myself to Him.

I wish (again with the wishing) that I could approach God on my own terms. Pop open the Bible when my heart is happy and content, when I’ve delivered a skipping first-grader to school on a sun-shiny day, when I feel like I have it all together. But that would be a total lie. In my weakness I see my need for forgiveness. And the need looks something like a mountain, looming large and impossible before me. It makes me grieve because I so much want to be good without a Savior. With the utmost stubbornness, I want to do it myself. But I fall time and time again. I can’t be good all the time, or even some of the time.

The Gospel pulls my eyes away from myself and towards Jesus. The mountain of need, the giant mess of sin in my heart, becomes absolute forgiveness in Christ. His record of perfection, claimed over me and for me. It’s not something I’ve done, not something I’ve earned, but it’s given to me freely.

And can it be that I should gain

An interest in the Savior’s blood?

Died He for me, who caused His pain—

For me, who Him to death pursued?

Amazing love! How can it be,

That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?


Forgiveness, such a sweet word. As a mother, a wife, a daughter, a sister, a friend, an artist, I need forgiveness. I crave grace moment by moment to be a better person, to lift my head up and make sense of the day that stretches before me.

The sun is coming out just a little bit. May God give me grace to be more patient, more joyful, more creative and more gentle when I pick up Livia from school this afternoon. I want to try again, by the strength of Christ, to be the woman God has called me to be.

**The lyrics to Charles Wesley’s And Can It Be? are so so good.

I took one look at my furry little dog curled up in the comforter I had dropped and told him, “Well, you’re not so stupid, are you!”

Shiloh does a number of things that qualifies him as fairly unintelligent, but this was not one. A super warm and cozy down comforter left by my nice, sweet owner? Well, yes, I think I will take a nap here.

My tired brain is about to explode from juggling mom tasks with photography work with home-repair and eventual home-selling. I am not at my sharpest after putting Livia to bed. So for now, I leave you with Shiloh pics. Keepin’ it light here.

Something kind of magical happens when a few very creative people get together. And crazily enough, when those artistic types get their friends, and then those friends get their friends, well, you end up with something like X Files the Musical—and over 1000 people will give up a weekend night to be entertained by you.

Last weekend the Colonel Mustard Amateur Attic Theatre Company debuted X Files the Musical to eager crowds at 9th & D in Lincoln, Nebraska. Several thousand people from all over the world turned on their computers and watched the live stream. Mulder and Scully, the Smoking Man, the Lone Gunman, Skinner… everyone was there. And because it was the Colonel Mustard version, there was also Mr. Tumnus, Dr. Thoreau, a tree chorus, and a Terrible Thing.

The show—hilarious, irreverent and witty—was more than just musical theater, it was about community. And the community here, as well as X Files lovers around the globe, loved it. I hope it inspires others to jot down a few insane ideas, grab a few friends, and make more art.

**Last year the Colonel Mustard folks put on Dr. Quinn the Musical in our backyard. We had to replant the grass after it was over and couldn’t host again as we’re trying to sell our house this year. Needless to say, all things worked out for the better with the change of location. There’s no way 1000+ could’ve fit in our collective back yards.

**X Files the Musical was written and produced by Aaron Holmes, Lindsay Kerns and Phillip Malcolm. I’ve known Lindsay since she was a little kid, and I’ve known Aaron for the last several years, but believe me when I say these guys are amazingly talented and deserve great kudos for their work. Phil, who composed the score, blows me away—the music and lyrics of X Files were fabulous. I’m still humming the tunes, and having to make up my own words because I can’t remember the correct ones.

Big kid.
Not the newbie.
A bit shy at drop-off.
Admitted she was anxious.
Walked in hand-in-hand with a friend.
And had an awesome first day.
With a teacher she declared, “Wonderful!”
Success.