Mary Graham

Trusty Chucks Blog

I am here for backpacks, and you should be too.

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I am here for backpacks.

Not emotionally, like they need a shoulder to cry on (please acknowledge that creative turn of word RIGHT NOW), but for buying them and wearing them and admiring them and advocating for them.

So maybe I am here for them emotionally. Let me think about that some more.

I’ve been anti-backpack since I left college. I’m not a kid anymore, I will use a sophisticated shoulder bag like a real adult, I thought as I amassed a large collection of mom bags and teacher bags and after-work gym bags.

But now I’m older, my back hurts more, and WHY IS THIS PURSE ALWAYS SO HEAVY?

Enter: the backpack.

We’ve been using them for hiking and camping for years, but they were left in the camper, never making their way back into the house for everyday use. Until recently.

((photo by Huff Photography))

Now I carry a backpack when I go to the office or to a coffee shop to work. I carry one to friends’ houses, to the grocery store, to the library.

Why was I allowing one tired shoulder to do all the work when my full, strong back was available?

No one knows.

According to the market- research firm NPD, sales of women’s backpacks are up by 28 percent in the past year, even though men’s backpacks are down. Women’s handbags, too, have suffered a drop over the past few years, says Beth Goldstein, NPD’s accessories analyst. (source

)

If marketing companies are noticing the rise in backpacks, you know it’s official. But even if it weren’t, I’m here to tell you about the glory of a backpack and the ease it brings.

Need some guidance jumping into the world of backpacks? Lemme help.

Land Diaper Bag Backpack
WAIT. Come back. I don’t care if you don’t have babies. Neither do I! I use the Land Diaper Bag Backpack for a laptop and work backpack. The pockets are great for charger cords and water bottles and pens. It’s sturdy and simple, plus it’s not expensive. I have the navy one, but I also really like the gray. Ignore the bad reviews, I’ve had mine for over a year with no complaints. (If you do happen to have babies, ditch the over-the-shoulder diaper bag for this. No regrets.)

(Are you impressed with the size of those backpack pictures? Me too. I’m getting ready to leave on vacation and I can’t get them to size right so here we are with giant pictures you don’t need contacts or glasses to see. It’s a public service, honestly.)

Jansport Classic Backpack
You probably had a Jansport backpack at one point. Please go get it out of the closet and give it new life with no shame. This is what we use for day hiking when we camp. Obviously, not a great bag for long hikes, but if you just need a few water bottles, some snacks, and a first aid kit, this is your backpack. Ours is light pink and looks great on all of us, Chris Graham included.

Classic brown leather backpack
My friend has a backpack like this, and I covet it. There’s nothing better than a classic brown leather backpack. This one has the best reviews, and I’ve ordered it to replace my purse this summer. I’ll let you know how it goes once it’s broken in a little more, but I already love shopping or being out hands-free. I don’t think I’ll go back anytime soon.

Pottery Barn Harry Potter Backpack
Ellie will tell you no Potterhead is legit until you own a Pottery Barn Harry Potter backpack with your name embroidered on it. Because she has so many people who love her (and are really good at giving gifts), she has two of them: one for school and one for travel, sleepover, and camping. They’re a little pricey, but Pottery Barn runs good sales so you shouldn’t ever have to pay full price for it. These backpacks are really well made too. After Ellie went through two cheap backpacks one school year, I decided spending the extra money to buy a nice one that would last for years was a better deal in the long run.

Burton Kilo 2.0 Backpack
This one is for guys (or anyone, really), but it’s similar to the well-loved backpack my brother carries to work (his is no longer available. *moment of silence*). He’s on team backpack like me (is it genetic?), and this one works well for the office or a weekend hike. He has a blue one, I really like the gray (again…), and if you want to be a little more fancy, get the black with white squares. There’s a color or pattern for everyone.

What about you, are you wearing a backpack yet? Do you sing the Dora the Explorer song in your head when you put it on like I do? Do you need to join the dark side with a snazzy new backpack? Hard hitting questions for your Friday.

Always in my mind

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Keep Ithaca always in your mind, wrote C.P. Cavafy in his epic poem about Odysseus’ journey. He wasn’t talking about Ithaca, New York, but he was talking about adventure and wandering and that, my friends, fits here.

In June, we packed up the camper and headed east. This wasn’t the first time we made our way to Ithaca; we spent a chilly fall break in 2012 tent camping there and have been dreaming about going back ever since.

If you’ve ever heard me explain why I deserved a camper after years of tent camping, I’m sure our first Ithaca trip has come up. New York in the fall is amazing. I don’t care what part you go visit–NYC or outside the city–it’s going to be amazing. But it can get chilly or, if you will, cold.

Our fall break trip in 2012 involved below-freezing temperatures with a one year old and a three year old in a tent with only a few blankets. I had, at the last minute, packed the space heater I used to use in my classroom, so we were able to point the small heater at the girls as they slept.

It wasn’t big enough to heat the whole tent or anyone not directly in front of it. I don’t want to be a martyr here, but I really took one for the team with that move. My kids slept peacefully, warm and snug in their little sleeping bags while I was too cold to move.

I plan on telling this story to them every single time they’re mean to me for the rest of their lives.

Even with the freezing temperatures, we were longing to go back. Above our bed is a picture of the girls holding hands in front of a huge waterfall as orange and yellow trees begin their descent into winter nakedness.

So we met Chris’ brother, his wife, and their daughter Savannah for a long weekend in Ithaca. This is our second annual summer camp out; they live in Maryland so we meet somewhere middle-ish for a visit. Last year it was West Virginia, this year it was New York.

We spent Father’s Day weekend grilling out, hiding from the rain, hiking, roasting marshmallows, exploring state parks, laughing, riding bikes, and telling stories.

The Graham boys carry a heavy legacy, one with a lot of pain and mess. They have parents who often made choices that were not in their best interest, were not with their safety or health in mind. Raising their own children reminds them of what they lost and how it should have been.

They could get stuck in the memories, but they don’t. It’s part coping mechanism, part survival tactic. They acknowledge how things weren’t what they would have picked and now they’re picking better for their daughters.

Father’s Day is bittersweet for kids whose fathers were not much to celebrate, not much to look up to.

Author Sammy Rhodes writes, Addicts aren’t gone, but they’re missing. Their addiction has banished them to wander as a ghost who haunts the land of the living with the presence of their absence…The wound of fatherlessness isn’t lightly healed. Time certainly is no help. If anything it reveals just how big the wound really is, just how much damage the foundation has actually suffered.

Chris and Mike’s father is not missing. He is not dead. But he is gone. Gone to Florida where it is easier to hide. Gone to drinking where things don’t feel so painful. Gone. Gone. Gone.

Like Ithaca, there is a part of Chris’ father that is always in his mind.

When Chris stopped drinking, everything he was running from caught up with him, his father’s legacy included. Picking through what he left and how it’s still being carried is laborious.

This summer has us revisiting places we’ve been before: Clifty Falls State Park, New York, Michigan. It would seem counter-intuitive in our quest to visit all fifty states to go back to some when there is still so much to do.

But before we go forward, we have to go back.

Before we start again, we have to see where we’ve been and what we still drag with us.

Before we get to healthy, we have to go through healing, and it is often facing the direction behind us.

What we’re taking with us.

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It went away the same way it came: with our families and our cars and our sweat.

Yesterday marked the end of our current Front Room Studio location. We signed a lease and were handed the keys a little over one year ago. We had big plans for creativity, learning, growing, and gathering.

We did almost everything we envisioned, except for the part where we stayed longer than a year. We didn’t see that coming last year. We didn’t see it coming in January.

But here we are.

I don’t want to spend my time writing out a list of the reasons it was time to go, but a pretty disappointing landlord and obedience would top the list.

In March, Jessi and I were both gone from the office for a few weeks because of spring break. She was in Florida, and I was at home trying to manage the kids and finish a kitchen remodel. I took the two week we were away from the office to pray. I needed to know how to keep the office open, generate the revenue we needed to, and find the space to do it all.

I needed ideas, inspiration, and answers.

What I got instead was a pretty clear response that it was time to go.

But I can make this work, God. I know how to hustle. I have ideas. I have people and workshops and meetings lined up and connections.

I can make this sustainable.

And in a million little ways, He told me no.
No more.
Stop.
You’re good at making things work, but this isn’t what I’m calling you to do right now.

I didn’t accept this for a while. I had lunch with trusted friends, talked to my mom, prayed more.

Everything in my nature wants to rebel from what I’m told to do. I did it when I was a toddler, I do it now. Everyone *knows* what they should do, maturity is actually doing it.

For me, I’ll do it, but I want to do it my own way.

This has, on many, many occasions, backfired on me. But I have yet to learn.

For months, Jessi and I had been going back and forth about what to do when the lease came up for renewal. We both wanted the same things, but were also concerned about the same issues.

Basically, we had made no decision.

So in April from the top of the St. Louis Arch, I texted Jessi I thought we should talk about leaving the space. Texting from 630 feet up in the air felt like bad timing, but some other things were happening too, and it couldn’t wait.

I’m on board, and it’s for the best, Jessi replied. But it’s bittersweet.

Yes, that. One word for the road: bittersweet.

So we spent the last few months doing all the things we had dreamed about but hadn’t done yet. More workshops and gatherings. Doing a live show for the podcast, holding meetings with creatives and dreamers. Suddenly with a deadline, things became clearer.

As Chris climbed the ladder and took down lights yesterday, I stood in the empty space and said thank you. The walls at 33 E. Main Street held lots of emotions for us. They held tears, laughter, pain, forgiveness, excitement, friendship, hard conversations, growth, and death.

Jessi and I are not the same people we were when we walked into this space last June, full of dreams and design ideas. We lost some things here. We gained a lot more.

I didn’t expect the best thing to come from our office to be the conversations we had there. Who knew what Jessi and I really needed was a safe place to land when home and families and friends felt too shaky.

For me, the last part of letting our studio go was pride. Pride that I did something that felt incomplete. My therapist would say this is my perfectionism peeking through. I would say it’s just that we could have made it work. We could have kept going. We could have stayed.

But it would have, probably, ended badly. Ended messy. Ended with emotions other than bittersweet smiles and tears.

And so we left with fondness and hopefulness and obedience and our friendship.

The Front Room Studio lives on. It lives on in the place we’ll continue to record The Not Terrible Podcast wherever that is. The Front Room Studio lives on in the book club that’s moving to the local library, the Bible study moving to a nearby coffee shop, and the workshops we’ll still put on, just in other locations

We had to leave the space, but we’re not leaving all the things it gave us, which if I’m being really honest, is each other.


You should go camping

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We camp because we want to.
We camp because we have to.

“You like to camp because it’s good for your mental health,” my counselor said this winter as we discussed my weather-related sadness in full effect.

Huh, I thought. I never made that connection before.

This is why I pay for counseling, so someone smarter than me, someone with a better view of my life can help me make sense of it.

As we rolled into the state park a few weeks ago, I watched the bars on my cell phone signal slowly go down. I’d been working on the two-hour drive in, but as we made our way back to the campground, my connection to the internet, my work, and my stress slowly lessened its hold on me.

I could feel the untangling as we drove.

I could feel the deeper breaths I was finally able to take, the tension in my shoulders releasing, the endless to-do list in my head quieting.

I am made to go, strive, make lists, check off tasks, do things efficiently, think about what’s next, what we should be doing instead of stopping. This helped me balance a full-time job with grad school and a newborn. It helped me survive teaching and coaching and two small kids. It allowed me to work 50+ hours a week in the classroom, take on freelance writing jobs, and still find time to sleep enough.

But it does not make turning my brain or my hands off easy.

Stopping only happens when I have no other option. Stopping only happens when I cannot work around my exhaustion, my family, or my lack of internet.

And so we camp.
We camp to rest.
We camp to stop running.
We camp to slow down.

At 37, I understand the only way I stop is when I can’t figure out a way to keep working. It is what it is.

So here we are, spending our summer camping as much as possible. Camping so I can take a break. Camping so Chris doesn’t have to do more projects. Camping so I’ll have nothing to do but read a book or take a walk with my kids as they race around the campground on their bikes.

I do this on purpose as a way to survive.

Lessons come slow sometimes. I wish I had understood this sooner, understood that I have to trick myself into not working. It might have made my twenties easier. It might have made the last few years less stressful.

But I’m thankful for the lesson now. For the camper we can tow to a campsite in the middle of a no-cell-phone-reception forest. For a bed with no plug nearby so I can’t look at my phone before I drift off to sleep.

We’re heading out again soon. Heading to another place to rest. The moments before we pull out of the driveway are busy–is everyone packed? Can I get one more hour of work done really quick? Please pick up this mess. Let’s just make one stop on the way out of town. Wait, I need to grab one more thing.

I literally can’t stop wanting to cram one more thing, idea, or task into my day. I’m annoying even to myself.

I camp to get away from my own brain.

I don’t know if it’s like this for you too. Maybe you’re better at turning the world and lists and things off? Maybe not. Maybe camping sounds like the opposite of enjoyable and relaxing. But what are you doing to rest? Where do you go to stop your brain and your schedule?

I didn’t know I needed to be asking these questions. I’m glad my counselor pushed me to.

I camp because I want to.
I camp because I have to.

(Pictures from a weekend at Clifty Falls State Park in Madison, Indiana.)

Mark your calendars, please and thank you.

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Get out your old school paper planner. If you use an app on your phone, I guess get that out too, but please notice my mild annoyance in this decision. Paper planners are the best way to go in this situation. It’s just a fact.

Okay, now I need you to write some important things down:

Saturday, June 22nd
I’m teaching a writing course at the Front Room Studio. I think you’ll enjoy it, and you should definitely come. It will be a small gathering and if you’re like me, someone who gets a *little* nervous about these types of things, I promise it will be low key and enjoyable. Get a spot for yourself (and a friend!) here.

((Also, if you’re an email subscriber, I’m giving away a free ticket on Monday, so keep an eye out!))

Tuesday, June 25th
I’ve mentioned it in my Monday newsletter but not on the blog. My friend Jess and I host a monthly book club because we love reading and talking about what we’re reading. It’s at the Front Room Studio too, and this month we’re reading Shauna Niequist’s Present Over Perfect, a timely summer read about slowing down and living more intentionally. It’s free to join us, just RSVP here so we have a seat for you. We do this every month, so following along on the Front Room Studio’s Facebook page will keep you in the loop for what’s ahead.

Friday, June 28th
The Not Terrible Podcast is recording a live episode, and we want you to join us! Come hang out at the studio for the evening as we record an upcoming episode and laugh and learn together. We’ve got some surprises up our sleeves too–you don’t want to miss this fun night. You can grab a ticket here.

Sunday, October 20th
The Flourish Gathering is back for another year, and I want you to come! Flourish Gathering “exists to inspire women to live freely and love who God created them to be.” I attended Flourish last year and felt so encouraged. I’m heading back this year to see my friend Shannan Martin speak. And maybe talk a little myself? Guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens. ANYWHO. Tickets go on sale very soon–get one before they sell out (because they will!).

Alright, I think that’s it for now. You can put your planner away now. Thanks for being such a good listener. I hope to see you out and about soon!

DISCLOSURE: Affiliate links used.

I’m still into cookbooks

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Are cookbooks still a thing?

Answer: YES.

I don’t care what the internet or Pinterest or all the end-of-traditional-publishing alarmist say, I’m still in love with cookbooks and use them regularly.

There’s just something that feels really good about cracking open a well-worn cookbook, flipping to a page you’ve used again and again, noticing the little dried bit of butter or olive oil on the corner, and feeding your family a tried-and-true meal.

Sure, I use the internet for dinner ideas or something quick-and-easy to take to the pitch-in, but it won’t ever take the place of a book full of recipes, food crumbs, handwritten notes on measurements, and love.

I will hear no arguments about it.

Okay, since we’re all on the same page about cookbooks being amazing, here are my favorites for your viewing pleasure. Add them to your collection, give them as gifts, or just nod your head in agreement as you read. And try not to get hungry.

Skinnytaste Fast and Slow by Gina Homolka
I love Skinnytaste Fast and Slow, and I love Gina Holmolka; I follow her on Instagram and buy all her cookbooks. She does healthy-ish recipes but none of them taste healthy, if you know what I mean. I make the Slow Cooker Korean-Style Beef Tacos (pg. 140) often, and it’s a big hit with Chris Graham. The slaw topping she has you put on top of the beef is delicious as a stand-alone salad too. I had a hard time narrowing down only one recipe from this book to tell you about if that tells you anything.

Magnolia Table by Joanna Gaines
This is a new one for me, I bought it with some birthday money last year after borrowing it from the library. Listen, I like the Gaines. I like their show. I like their style. I like their line at Target. But I’m also leery of celebrity books because as long as you have a good following, you can publish a book–it doesn’t have to be good. I’ve learned that the hard way. So I borrowed Magnolia Table from the library to test it out, and it passed all my tests. (I’m a teacher so realllllly good at making hard, impossible-to-pass exams.) For Christmas morning, I made the Overnight French Toast (pg. 41) for my family, and it was so decadent and delicious. Some of the recipes are more intense than I normally do, but it’s still worth a buy. I’ve got the Cinnamon Squares marked (pg. 65) for this weekend so I’ll let you know how it goes, but I’m anticipating success and lots of sugar highs.

Classic Rachael Ray 30-Minute Meals
Is it showing my age to say I used to binge-watch 30-Minute Meals on the Food Network when I was in college? I don’t know what she’s doing today, but Rachel Ray in the early 2000s gave me the courage to just throw stuff in a pot without measuring, eat new foods like polenta, and try scary recipes like risotto. I still use Classic Rachael Ray 30-Minute Meals for dinner inspiration. We really like her soups and stews, things that can be made in one pot. The Chile Verde (pg. 127) is delicious with some tortilla chips, sharp cheddar cheese, and green onions.

Cooking Light: Fresh Food Fast
Okay, so it’s obvious I like things that don’t take too long to make. Who really does? Cooking Light: Fresh Food Fast isn’t fancy, but it’s full of normal food my family will actually eat which makes it a win in my book. Being able to make a sandwich feel like a full meal (like the Grilled Chicken Reuben [pg. 81] or the Sloppy Skillet Beef Sandwiches [pg. 69]) will always make me happy. There’s lots of good soup recipes in here too. I’m a big fan of the Spicy Poblano and Corn Soup (pg. 26).

The Taste of Home Cookbook
This is a classic in my humble opinion. Growing up, my mom subscribed to and used often The Taste of Home magazine. I remember this from-scratch pretzel recipe that I loved to make. Throwing that pretzel dough around pretending I knew had to twist it into pretzel shapes was so much fun. When I moved out, my mom gifted me my own The Taste of Home Cookbook and I’ve used it ever since. It’s a good reference for traditional recipes and things you’d never, ever make, but I still love it. It also has lots of conversion, substitution, and cook time help in it. It’s not just recipes, but an actual how-to book for the kitchen. It might be a little outdated (my link is to the 4th edition while I have the original), but I’m loyal to it regardless.

Reader’s Digest Kitchen Secrets
This one is good but also a little silly? It’s not aged well, but there’s good stuff so don’t be thrown off by the ugly cover or the how-to for a cheese mold. *gag* Because recipes like the Bayou Red Beans and Rice Casserole (pg. 119) or the Steak with a Spicy sauce (pg. 234) are delicious. Reader’s Digest Kitchen Secrets is also entertaining to look at. It’s got a lot of general how-to and recipe help in it, but the pictures are gold and worth a peruse.

America’s Test Kitchen: The Complete Cookbook for Young Chefs
Ellie got this one for Christmas and it’s been in heavy rotation ever since. She’s used it for desserts and breakfast food at least once a week since our kitchen has been operational again. I love America’s Test Kitchen: The Complete Cookbook for Young Chefs because it talks about the science behind cooking and baking so kids are learning how to make things, but also the theory (if that makes sense…) so they could then transfer that knowledge to other things they want to make. Plus, this stuff is just good. It’s not silly kid stuff that is super easy and insulting, they have to follow real recipes and actually work for the yummy food they’re creating. Ellie loves to be in the kitchen, and she absolutely loves this cookbook.

Skinnytaste One and Done by Gina Homolka
I told you I loved Skinnytaste. This is me submitting documentation. Skinnytaste One and Done is her most recent cookbook. Quick, fast meal options are my love language. That and leaving me alone with my books. But mostly fast meals. These recipes are filling, good for the whole family, and easy-ish. I’m really feeling the one sheet pan meal idea, where you throw lots of different things on one pan and then bake it so the Roasted Sausage, Peppers, and Potatoes meal (pg. 89) was a home run. I used turkey sausage because it’s what I had on hand, but I’m sure chicken sausage is delicious too.

Let Me Feed You by Rosie Daykin
I don’t own this one (yet). I just got Let Me Feed You at the library this week. I’ve wasted enough money on cookbooks I don’t end up liking to know if the library has a copy, I’ll try it through them first. I’ve never heard of Rosie Daykin, but she has a dog on the cover of her cookbook so I think we’re going to be best friends. I’m hoping to make Butter’s Granola (pg. 20) and, when my garden is ready to harvest, the Zucchini and Couscous Salad (pg. 145). I predict I’ll ask for this cookbook for Christmas. Stay tuned.

What about you? Do you still love a cookbook sitting on the shelf in your kitchen? Could you spend the afternoon looking through cookbooks like me? What cookbook can you not live without?

DISCLOSURE: This post uses affiliate links. Shopping through the links helps support this online writing space and does not change the price you pay for an item.

Visit St. Louis

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Sometimes it’s nice to be told what to do, so I’m going to come right out and say it: plan a trip to St. Louis, Missouri sooner rather than later.

When the girls were still in school, we skipped town for a few days and headed to St. Louis. I love that it’s within four hours of Indianapolis; close enough to go for a weekend, but far away enough to feel like a vacation.

While we were in St. Louis, we stayed at the Drury Plaza Hotel, and we really need to talk about it. We normally travel with our camper and skip hotels. It’s more cost-effective for us to travel most places (especially within a day’s drive) with our camper. BUT. The Drury Plaza Hotel changed the game for me: a great view of the Arch, a breakfast buffet that felt like an actual restaurant, unlimited popcorn and pop in the lobby all day, and something called a 5:30 Kickback they advertise as a snack time but is an actual full meal…all included in your room rate.

When I shared my shock and awe of the Drury Plaza Hotel on social media, people weren’t as surprised as I was–PEOPLE KNOW HOW WONDERFUL THIS PLACE IS. And they never told me. If this was supposed to be a secret, I’m refusing to stay quiet. It’s a magical place (there’s a rooftop pool! look for part of Ellie’s tooth if you’re there!), and we should all have the experience at least once.

You can get to Gateway Arch National Park and the Old Courthouse in less than a five minute walk. This isn’t the Arch of your childhood either, the grounds, the entrance, and the underground museum have all been remodeled and updated. It looks amazing. When we were there in 2015, it was under construction and not very pretty to look at. But now! Now it’s amazing. Make sure you leave enough time before your tram ride up to the top of the Arch to explore the museum exhibits. It’s kid-friendly, utilizes universal design making it accessible to almost everyone, and really interesting (unfortunately, the actual Arch isn’t as accessible; the construction makes it pretty much impossible to redesign or make friendlier for more people). The museum curators also did a good job of addressing some painful parts of our history in relationship to westward expansion. The exhibits tell the story of the area from three different perspectives: the white settlers, the Native Americans, and the Mexican settlers. It’s done really well.

(The Park suggests you buy tickets online ahead of time if you want to ride the tram or do any of the boat/helicopter tours. Especially in the summer, things sell out fast and you don’t want to have to wait hours for your ride time.)

Make sure you actually visit the Old Courthouse too, don’t just walk by in your way to the Gateway Arch. The Old Courthouse is part of the National Park Service and worth a stop. Both the Dred Scott case and the Virginia Minor case were heard in this courthouse, so the American history is rich and important. You don’t have to spend all morning there, but don’t miss it.

The park, formerly known as Jefferson National Expansion Memorial, was renamed Gateway Arch National Park and became an official national park in 2018. The National Park Service has worked hard to make the whole park an experience, not just the Arch. The grounds are beautiful and spacious. As we walked around, people were biking, using electric scooters, running on their lunch breaks, and playing frisbee with their dogs. You could easily spend the day at the park between the courthouse, museum, Arch, and the surrounding areas. Behind the Old Courthouse is Kiener Plaza complete with a splash pad, fountain, and playground. (If you’re there in the morning, walk the few blocks over to Pharoah’s Donuts. When you walk in, there is powdered sugar hanging in the air so you know those are going to be good donuts. It’s nothing fancy to look at, but the donuts are so good. Grab a box and head back to the playground to eat them.)

If you’re not into a picnic lunch (but seriously, why not?), take a stroll over to Laclede’s Landing where there are food and entertainment options. We ate at Mas Tequila Cantina and I’d definitely recommend it if you’re bad at making choices and just want to be told where to go (i.e. the first paragraph) for good food.

What’s great about the Drury Plaza Hotel location is that later in the evening, you can walk the few blocks over to Ballpark Village at Busch Stadium for a Cardinals game. You don’t have to mess with traffic or parking, you just waltz on into Ballpark Village carefree and fancy free. If you don’t have a ticket, you can grab food and a seat at one of the many restaurants or bars in the Village, but if you can get a ticket, seeing a game in Busch Stadium is bucket-list worthy. We got to take the girls to their first major league baseball game in St. Louis, and it was an experience they won’t forget.

You could hit a few highlights on a long weekend in St. Louis, but if you have the time, try to stay a little longer. This was our family’s third trip to St. Louis and every single time we leave wishing we had just a few more days.

-I’ve got so many recommendations for St. Louis. If you need more (like the not-to-be-missed City Museum or all the free attractions), you can see this post from our first visit and this one for our second visit.

-There’s still time to plan a trip for the 4th of July weekend! Fair Saint Louis is happening at the Gateway Arch National Park July 4th, 5th, and 6th (2019). It’s humbly called “America’s Biggest Birthday Party” and includes musical acts, air shows, free family fun, and fireworks celebrating our nation’s independence. Any time is a good time to visit St. Louis, but this weekend will be extra special

–DISCLOSURE: This is a sponsored post in partnership with the National Park Service and Explore Saint Louis. All opinions are my own.

He is gracious even in our suffering.

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It’s just more layers, I said as I stood against the wall watching the kids play. The more I learn and heal, the more things I see to address.

Yep, my friend agreed. We just keep finding more junk the longer we pay attention.

At some point, I stopped thinking one day I’d just get to healthy; I’ve resigned myself to the fact there is always more work to do. What’s good about this realization is God is patient and kind about it.

A few months ago, I was driving my car and out of nowhere, two things that had been floating in my head forever came crashing together and made total sense. A shockingly easy connection I had never had until that moment.

Before I would have told myself I was dumb and naïve to not see the answer to something really obvious, but I’ve been blindsided and shocked enough to learn God doesn’t always let us know everything at the same time out of mercy and love, not control and pain.

He is gracious even in our suffering.

When Chris told me he had been secretly drinking for years, it took months to process and see the extent of what was happening, what I needed to do in response, and how to survive. If I had known the full story sitting in that counselor’s office on a rainy Wednesday evening in the spring of 2017, I would have called my divorce attorney that night and not looked back. God knew what I could handle in that moment, what He wanted to wait on, and what I would do with the knowledge when the time was right.

He allowed things to happen at a slower pace than I would have liked, but I can see now, from my view in the spring of 2019, He was doling out only what I could survive, only what was necessary for that moment, and nothing more.

He is gracious even in our suffering.

I don’t think any wife has emergency plans ready for when her husband surprises her with a hidden addiction. I know I didn’t. So God gave me the summer of 2017, new eyes, and a healthy dose of counseling and learning, to understand when I needed to take action. He gave me tools and people and told me when I needed to move.

He is gracious even in our suffering.

God was gracious in my suffering, but He was also gracious in Chris’. I think it is easy to see how God is good afterwards for ourselves, but less easy to see how He cared for those who were hurting us too. I don’t have time to get into that thought completely right now, but let’s just say, God timed my realizations well enough so I didn’t murder my husband. God kept Chris just safe enough to not be murdered in his sleep by his enraged wife.

God is good, friends.

It’s the same way with healing and relationships and growth—God doesn’t sit us down and make a list of all the ways we’re messing up. He gives us a little guidance, leads us to some truth and healing, and then reveals another area we can pay attention to.

The fight to get healthy always causes ripples. But He doesn’t let the ripples drown us, He lets us pay attention to one at a time so we don’t give up. (This is not the same as saying “He never gives us more than we can handle.” That is complete BS. He gives us more than we can handle all the time. That’s the point. None of us feel like we can handle what we’re going through; it’s why He wants us to rely on Him first. Then He’ll lead us home.)

When my marriage fell apart, God placed people and situations and places in my path to aid in the healing of my heart and my relationship. Once it was on a steadier ground, He said let’s use these lessons in other areas too. So He started changing my friendships, got rid of the ones that were hurting me more than helping me, and realigned the ones He kept for me.

When those things settled, He brought my attention to some other family dynamics that were needing attention. Then He gave me the patience and energy to see some things clearer.

Growing is just ripples; you take care of one small wave and then it gives you the endurance and wisdom to tackle the next one. As someone who wants to get as much done as quickly as possible (efficiency is my love language), this is a hard lesson I like to learn again and again.

His time, not mine.

His time, not mine.

His time, not mine.

Sometimes we need the healing and the wisdom from one healed area of our lives to be able to turn our attention to another. Sometimes we need the endurance and peace we gathered in one relationship struggle to move away from something else.

It’s not possible to work on better boundaries in your marriage without it spilling out into other relationships. It’s not possible to work toward healthy reactions without it impacting all the people you react to.

A somewhat vague story: My ultimate fear is betrayal. I trust people just enough to be in relationship with them, but not enough to feel safe. I was burned often and early so my defense mechanism is to keep my cards close to my heart and only give you what won’t hurt me. The reality is, I married someone who has betrayed me many, many times. Weeding through those wounds and scars, some of them present long before I met Chris Graham has been a large part of the last few years of my counseling. When I became aware—when I could truly see with fresh eyes—the way most of my close relationships were with people who often lied to me, it changed everything. At first it changed my marriage. Then in changed my family relationships. And then it came for my friendships.

I said no more lying in my marriage, and Chris said he needs help to be better.

I said no more lying in my family and lots of conversations stopped because people didn’t know what to talk about.

I said no more lying to my best friend and she said you’re not worth telling the truth to and she left.

He is gracious even in our suffering.

I’ve lost a lot in the past two years. Things that hurt. Things I didn’t expect. Things that felt like more betrayal and lies.

But when I say He is gracious even in our suffering, I am adamant He is still kind and loving and merciful. Pain doesn’t last forever. He can heal your broken heart. He can make new relationships and conversations and marriages. I only write about things I know and this, this I know in my bones.

If right now, it feels like too much.

If right now, you can see no end.

If right now, you’ve forgotten His promises.

If right now, you feel like you’re drowning.

Keep going.

Keep going.

Keep going.

He is gracious even in our suffering.

I’m tired of talking about the Enneagram.

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I’m tired of talking about the Enneagram.

In 2017, I read The Road Back to You and suddenly I had language to communicate with my husband and understanding to see why so often we missed each other even though we were living in the same house.

The Enneagram began a lot of healing and growing for me and my marriage.

Full disclosure: Chris did not and still does not care about the Enneagram at all. We didn’t suddenly get on the same page and everything was fine. I learned, I changed, I questioned, I listened, I used the Enneagram to fill some holes. Chris Graham decided it was not for him.

That’s what is so great about the Enneagram: no one else has to know anything about it, it’s for you and only you. You can grow and heal and be better toward people without them being involved at all.

The Enneagram has been around for hundreds of years. Originally when people started learning and studying it, they worked hard to keep it out of the general public’s hands, because they knew it would turn into a parlor game, just another fun social quiz taken at surface level.

Now here we are in 2019 living in the reality so many Enneagram teachers feared. We share Enneagram quizzes on Facebook and talk about our numbers with only some basic knowledge. We use our numbers to excuse behavior and explain why we’re just not good at some things. We’ve decided the Enneagram number summary is who we are, who we will always be, and we get to live proudly out of that summary because the Enneagram says so.

And that, friends, is why I hate talking to people about the Enneagram.

We took this powerful tool, condensed the knowledge to a tweet-length blip, and decided we just get to sit in that summary for the rest of our lives.

It’s who God made us to be!

There’s nothing wrong with me!

I can’t learn or grow or change, because the Enneagram says this is who I am!

Why did you do that hurtful thing to someone you love? Because I’m a One.

Why didn’t you follow through with your commitment? Because I’m a Seven.

Why didn’t you stand up for yourself when someone was taking advantage of you? Because I’m a Nine.

We are living out all the worst fears of the original Enneagram scholars and it makes me so embarrassed and grouchy.

In education, we teach kids how powerful their mindset is to their learning. Learners (of all ages) come to learning one of two ways: with a fixed mindset or a growth mindset. A fixed mindset means you believe your talents and intelligence are fixed traits.

I’m bad at math.

I can’t be patient.

I’ve never been good at relationships.

Talent is something you’re born with and you cannot learn new skills or knowledge, success is a trait you have or a trait you do not have and effort is not required.

Students who come into our classrooms with this mindset (something they often learn from their home and parents) struggle more in school, often say they can’t learn something when a challenge arises, and take on a victim mentality when they interact with the world.

The opposite of this is the growth mindset. A growth mindset, according to Stanford University researcher Carol Dweck who coined the terms, is when a learner accepts that knowledge and intelligence is not fixed, that we can always learn new things, and to grow in our skill set we just need time and experience. People (kids and adults) who believe they can get smarter or better at things, invest the time and energy into doing them.

I don’t have the attention span to read a book so I’m going to try to read 20 minutes a day to change that.

I’ve never been a good cook, but I’m going to make dinner from scratch once a week to start learning new recipes and how to not burn things.

I’m not a good friend, but I want to be so I’m going to be intentional about checking in with people I love.

This carries over to the Enneagram well. The point of the Enneagram is to give you a glimpse into your strengths and weaknesses so you can be more aware of them. Learning about your number should be uncomfortable because it points out your tender spots, but then it gives you the guidance to make them assets instead of wounds. It helps you show up better in the world, it allows you to become a healthier version of yourself so you can love people better, and it lets you address the parts in your heart that are hurting you instead of helping you.

But what many of us have done is we came at the Enneagram with a fixed mindset, learned new language to describe why we are what we are, and then just used it as a weapon or an excuse to keep being the exact same person.

And that, friends, is why I hate talking to people about the Enneagram.

We found the Enneagram to be a fun personality quiz, and we put it in our back pocket to pull out when we needed to justify shitty behavior, victim mentality, and refusals to grow or change.

We also decided that God wasn’t in control.

Instead we decided that the Enneagram was.

In the Bible we read that Jesus healed the blind, made the lame walk, and raised people from the dead, but the Enneagram says we can’t change and many people have come to believe that more than Jesus.

Somewhere along the line, we’ve started worshiping and believing fully in a creation of God instead of the Creator.

Somewhere along the line, we accepted what an online quiz or a few books told us we were instead of what the Good Book says we are.

 And that, friends, is why I hate talking to people about the Enneagram.

Our cult following of the Enneagram has stripped God of His healing, His transforming power, His redeeming, and His mercy. God can’t change minds, soften hearts, or heal pain because of our Enneagram number profiles. Because if the Enneagram says we can’t change, what can God do about that?

Here’s an important detail though: the Enneagram doesn’t say we can’t change. The Enneagram is all about growth and change and reflecting more of God’s characteristics and less of ours. The Enneagram, if we study it and use it the way it was intended, will draw us closer to God, His heart, His mission, and His people.

But that sounds like too much work and too much energy and too much dying to self, so the majority of us will stay stuck in our fixed mindset knowledge of the Enneagram:

This is who I am.

This is why I do what I do.

This is why I’m a victim of my life.

This is why I can’t learn new things.

This is why I am stuck.

This is why everyone is always out to get me.

This is why I’m not good at this or that.

This is why jealousy rules my life.

This is why I’m constantly unsatisfied.

This is why what I have will never be good enough.

The Enneagram will always have a sweet spot in my heart. God used it to begin some really powerful shifts in my marriage and in my relationships at just the right time. He used it to point out some sin and strongholds that were trapping me and making me miserable. He gave me some really wise friends who helped me learn and grow with the Enneagram.

But I’m done talking about the Enneagram with people who only use it as a weapon against themselves and against me.

Start a conversation about why you can’t do something because your Enneagram number says you can’t? We’re done here.

Tell me something about myself you know because you know my Enneagram number but not one single thing God is currently doing in my life? We’re done here.

Excuse bad behavior or sin with a reminder about your Enneagram number? We’re done here.

Pretend to know why I’m doing something solely based on my Enneagram number without a conversation with me? We’re done here.

Enneagram teacher Ian Morgan Cron said once that we should learn about the Enneagram and our number and then stop talking about it. True growth and healing is done inside ourselves with God, not in making sure everyone knows our number and we know everyone else’s. We don’t need to know anyone else’s Enneagram number to be better to them. We don’t need to know anyone else’s number to make sure we’re showing them our healthiest and safest self.

If we’re growth mindset-ing the Enneagram, we’ll be talking about how God is using the knowledge to make us better in relationship; we’ll be talking about how He’s healing our wounds and scars to use it for His glory. We’ll be talking about how He’s teaching us new ways to see the world, His people, and His creation. If we’re coming at the Enneagram with a growth mindset and Jesus, we see ourselves as constant works-in-progress, children of a King who can make us into anything He wants, and people who are better when we ask for help.

And if you’re not ready to talk about how God is using knowledge of the Enneagram to make you more like Him, I’m out.

Cemetery dirt

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We live across from a cemetery.

Less than two acres with a sloping hill, it is nestled between trees and a busy road. The gravel driveway takes you on a half-circle loop before depositing you across from the boundary line that separates our house from my aunt’s.

For decades, my grandpa was the caretaker, mowing the grass in the cool of the evening, picking up silk flowers as they blew off headstones, and helping to prepare sites for graveside services.

I never knew to be concerned or weirded out by our closeness to the dead. I wore frilly dresses made by my grandma as we hunted Easter eggs in the front yard, steps away from the cemetery. We celebrated Christmas and Thanksgiving nestled in the small den–where my grandparents kept all the toys–as cars crept slowly down the rocky lane to visit their deceased loved ones.

My grandpa is now buried in the cemetery across from my house, the house he and my grandma built, the one that became too much to care for after he died, the house that we bought in 2017. My niece, the baby taken too soon, who only lived a short thirty two days, is laid next to him. My grandma’s name is already etched on a headstone, patiently waiting for her to join my grandpa.

In the summer months, the girls and I walk the dogs in the cemetery. They race their bikes down the hill as I wander through the headstones looking for the oldest one, the youngest one, the one with the kid born the same year as me but who didn’t make it through high school.

The day before a funeral, a friend from high school’s dad will show up with a backhoe to dig a new grave. He works alone and efficiently, rain or snow or shine. The next morning, the funeral home arrives, erects their tent, puts down the odd pretend grass-carpet, and sets up folding chairs. From my office window, I attend a graveside service for someone I don’t know, bowing my head when they bow their heads, and standing when someone plays taps.

Last month on my trip to Fort Wayne, I had the opportunity to spend the afternoon at The Genealogy Center in the Allen County Public Library. Their library is the second largest genealogy library in the country, only topped by Utah’s Mormon genealogy library. People travel from all parts of the country and world to research ancestors, property, and family trees there. The sheer volume of resources, family histories, and yearbooks from around the United States will take your breath away. Standing in the stacks, thinking about the miles of books just telling us about people who lived before us felt reverent to me.

I can’t begin to explain all the information accessible through this library. Those family tree websites? You can use them for free at the library. Those trained ancestry professionals you see interviewed on TV? Those are the people who work at this library. All the old newspapers, land deeds, census records, and birth certificates you might want to gather as you trace your family back multiple generations? You can get them there.

Before the trip, I was asked to submit some family information: who are my parents, when were they born, where were my grandparents married. When I arrived at the center, I met with a Genealogy Librarian who had spent a few hours completing my family tree for me. I walked away from our time together with a stack of family documents (census records from my great-great grandparents, birth certificate for my namesake relative, pictures of headstones in Illinois from five generations back, pictures of my grandparents’ grandparents…) and the name of every person on my family tree back six generations.

It’s a little unheard of to be able to fill in six generations back so quickly, the genealogy librarian told me, it’s not normally this easy.

It helped that my lines were so solidly American. The Keatons and the Ritters, the Kimerys and the Spitzners have been in the Midwest for a long time; we immigrated to America in the early 1800s, worked our way west pretty quickly, and then stayed put. We came mostly from England with a little bit of Germany and France mixed in; we became farmers and teachers and factory workers and we didn’t move around much. We liked Illinois and Indiana, the land was good for farming and the cities were just close enough for those who wanted to work in developing industries.

The researcher was able to show me where our German last names were slowly Americanized and the names of the many relatives who took up arms in the Civil War to fight against the confederacy.

I learned it’s often hard to track families back this far because our patriarchal society didn’t always keep record of women well. Maiden names weren’t important and obituaries identified women as “Mrs. Christopher Graham” instead of “Mrs. Mary (Ritter) Graham.” Often when we start digging into our ancestors, we get stopped on maternal lines. I was proud to see the women in my family often carried their maiden names around on official documents even if it wasn’t common for the time period.

You could keep going easily, the librarian told me as our time drew to a close. We didn’t stop your tree because we got stuck, we just ran out of time. But you could come back and probably go a lot farther without too much trouble.

When a grave is dug, and then later, a casket is covered, you don’t need as much dirt as you took out. It seems silly to tell you that detail, but if you live across the road from a cemetery, it’s important.

In the corner of the cemetery, near where the bumpy gravel drive drops off at our property line, is a pile of dirt. An old sign, created by my grandpa years ago, shares the “Free Dirt” proclamation. The fresh, rich earth goes fast so you have to hurry if you need some for your yard, for your garden, for your field. I’ve received text message reminders from my aunt when the good dirt arrives.

There’s good dirt over there if you need any.

In warmer weather, Chris will hook up the trailer to our riding lawnmower, the girls will jump in the back with their kid-sized shovels, and they’ll take a trip to the graveyard for dirt to fill our landscaping or to top off the garden. I don’t try to think too much about why the dirt is extra fertile or what I’m shoveling as I spread it around my newly-planted bushes. I know why it’s the good dirt, and I leave the thought at that.

I am not a farmer like my ancestors.
I don’t work in a factory like my grandpa and my great-grandpa.
I was the first person on my dad’s side of the family to earn a bachelor’s degree, the second on my mom’s.

I dreamed about leaving Indiana, the Midwest, the cornfields and the soybeans when I was growing up. This place was not meant for me.

But here I am, living in the house my grandparents built, sending me kids to the school my parents went to, passing my uncle on the road as he drives the school bus and learning how to garden–with the rich cemetery soil my grandpa cared for–from my aunt who lives next door.

I’ve decided to stay put.
I’ve decided to tell my daughters they don’t have to get rid of their names to live a happy life.
I’ve decided that small and quiet is better for me.
I’ve decided that staying put, taking walks around headstones, and growing things here, in the Midwest, is where I’m supposed to be.

*If you haven’t visited The Genealogy Center in Fort Wayne, Indiana, I think you should. You can check out their resources or get access to their trained professionals who want to help you find the pieces of your family tree on their website. You can also sign up for a free 30-minute consult with one of their librarians. I got a little extra help and attention, because I was there to write about my experience, but you have access to all the resources and information they have.

*Fun fact: If you ever come across old yearbooks or family histories (a lot of families have bound books about their ancestors), and you don’t know what to do with them, The Genealogy Center will gladly accept them. They’ll add them to their shelves (and electronic records) so people can have access to the information for generations to come.

DISCLOSURE: THIS IS A SPONSORED POST. I VISITED THE LIBRARY IN CONJUNCTION WITH A SPONSORED TRIP WITH VISIT FORT WAYNE.

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