This past week I fell in love with Charleston, the most charming coastal city with magical trees, secret gardens, friendly locals, and good food.

Sights included: The Battery, Rainbow Row, Charleston City Market, King Street, Angel Oak Tree, Boone Hall Plantation

“Charleston has a landscape that encourages intimacy and partisanship. I have heard it said that an inoculation to the sights and smells of the Carolina lowcountry is an almost irreversible antidote to the charms of other landscapes, other alien geographies. You can be moved profoundly by other vistas, by other oceans, by soaring mountain ranges, but you can never be seduced. You can even forsake the lowcountry, renounce it for other climates, but you can never completely escape the sensuous, semitropical pull of Charleston and her marshes.”

— Pat Conroy

I want to start by saying that I am not, by any means, a good cook. But I was feeling brave that day. I was scrolling through The Pioneer Woman’s website because I have never disliked a recipe I have found on there. That girl knows what she’s doing. So when I came across a recipe titled “Spicy Whiskey BBQ Sliders,” I was sold by its sheer contrasting nature to my usual dishes.

It started out well. I diced and cooked the onions and formed the patties. Then it came time to add the whiskey. I was cooking on a gas stove, and I knew to turn off the stovetop while I poured the small amount of whiskey in the pan because open flame + alcohol sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. Also I read the directions. So I poured and then turned the stove back on. That’s when I knew something went wrong.

I looked down and giant flames were emerging from the frying pan right in front of me. I panicked and screamed and Kevin ran in the kitchen while I picked up the pan. For some reason my first instinct was to throw the flaming pan off the deck while yelling, “Fire in the hole!” but Kevin, full of absurdly rational thinking, advised against this. He said that you were supposed to put baking soda on the flame or something, so I held the flaming pan that I was sure was going to burn our rental house kitchen down while he searched for this magical baking soda.

He never did find the baking soda.

And that’s how we burned our second rental house down.

Kidding. The flame eventually died down and I finished cooking the burgers, which were actually really delicious.

But I learned a few lessons that day:

1.  Don’t trust Kevin to find anything in our cabinets at a moment’s notice.
2.  We should really buy a fire extinguisher.
3.  A flame eventually dies when there is nothing to keep it going.

We are accustomed to hearing about fires in the Bible, often with negative connotations involving hell and fiery furnaces and rains of fire on cities filled with sinfulness. But what about the places where fire is seen as good? What about in Deuteronomy when it says the Lord your God is a consuming fire? What about when we sing that we want the Lord to kindle a fire down in our souls that we can’t contain and can’t control? And remember the time when Paul urges followers of Christ to continue in boldness and fan into flame the gift of God?

For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands, for God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control. 2 Timothy 1:6-7

Hmm. Fan into flame the gift of God. My understanding is that Paul is talking about spiritual gifts here. And apparently he wants us to cultivate and kindle those flames of gifts. Paul urges us to keep the flames going strong. 

I have kind of always thought of myself as a Renaissance woman. Not in a haughty, good-at-everything type of way, but in an I'm-okay-at-a-significant-list-of-things way. However, I’ve never thought I am really great at any one thing. I have never experienced that Aha! moment, and I didn’t give much thought about what my spiritual gift(s) might be. I never took the “spiritual gift quiz” in youth group, and I always kind of assumed that people who declared their spiritual gifts were just looking for ways to feel better about themselves (obviously I was skipping over some parts of the Bible).

Over the past few weeks, I’ve heard and read a lot about spiritual gifts. At first I thought it was purely coincidental, but then it started to feel like God yelling at me to pay attention (I can be pretty stubborn, so sometimes He communicates above a “gentle whisper” with my hard-headed self). I read parts of the Bible about God giving His followers various spiritual gifts (1 Corinthians 12) and read stories of people implementing their God-given gifts in everyday life. So maybe pastors and teachers and writers aren’t just trying to make us feel better when they speak and teach and write about spiritual gifts, I realized. The Lord opened my eyes to see how He has so divinely orchestrated and gifted talents in each of us, and they shouldn’t be ignored or taken for granted; spiritual gifts should be boldly celebrated and embraced.

So I broke down and took the somewhat cheesy spiritual gifts quiz online. It was 100 questions (which I did not know going into it) because apparently they really wanted to get inside my brain and make me feel like I was taking a midterm.

I had no idea what my results were going to be. I half-expected the outcome to say, “You have zero spiritual gifts. Please try again.” To which I would reply, “You’re not the boss of me!” while slamming my laptop shut and sulking while eating a gallon of salted caramel ice cream.

Instead, the website on my computer screen read, “Wisdom, Knowledge, Teaching” in that order. (Insert look of confusion and creeping-in pride).

But then I thought about how flip-flopped everything is in the kingdom of God and my pride, along with my confusion, quickly evaporated. To be exalted you must be humbled (1 Peter 5:6), to be wise you must be foolish (1 Corinthians 3:18), to be knowledgeable you should know "nothing except Jesus Christ and Him crucified" (1 Corinthians 2:2).

I’m not saying a spiritual gifts quiz is 100% accurate or trustworthy, but I do think we should notice how we can best contribute to the kingdom of God and go do it often. We should share stories and encourage constantly because a flame grows weaker when it’s not being kindled. We should use what the Lord has given us to love Him and to love one another and to advance His kingdom. He has gifted each of us in the body of Christ uniquely for the glory of His Name, and I don’t want to miss out on giving Him my best.

I want my flame to contribute to the raging fire. 

Our dog is a spastic little brown and white beagle named Copper. He has big green eyes, floppy ears that he likes to chew on, and freckled legs. The list of things he is afraid of is lengthy and ridiculous: boxes, brooms, screen doors, vacuum cleaners, leaf blowers, swiffers, and all forms of water, just to name a few. He likes playing tug-of-war, going on long walks, eating sticks, laying in patches of sunshine, and running around in circles through our kitchen/living room. And if you’ve ever met Copper, you know that he loves people more than anything else in the world.

Copper is so attached to humans that he has a significant fear of missing out; if we go outside or leave the house, he watches out the window until we come back, which is often cute and often annoying.

I sometimes think that the disciples felt similar to an over-attached pup whose owner has just left when Jesus says He's leaving earth, except an obvious deeper sense of immediate loss and loneliness and disappointment. Can you imagine walking the streets with your Savior and Teacher one day, rejoicing over everything He has done and said, and then finding out He is leaving? I would cry in confusion and anger and sorrow. But then, as usual, Jesus goes and says something crazy:

Nevertheless, I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Helper will not come to you. But if I go, I will send him to you. –John 16:7

I would love to go back in time and see the disciples’ reactions, but I imagine it went something like this: Did Jesus just say that it was better if He goes away? How is that even possible? He is the Messiah, the Redeemer, the Christ. He embodies everything that is good and perfect and holy. This doesn’t make any sense!

If I’m being honest, I often forget the power of the Holy Spirit. I used to be weirdly jealous of all of the people who were able to walk beside Jesus and learn from His teachings and live everyday life alongside Him. My thoughts were: we may have plumbing and cars in the 21st century, but we don’t have GOD HIMSELF WALKING THE STREETS. We don’t have multitudes literally following Him and we can’t hear His actual voice. But then I started to gain a deeper understanding of the Holy Spirit.

When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth, for he will not speak on his own authority, but whatever he hears he will speak, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. He will glorify me, for he will take what is mine and declare it to you. –John 16:13-14

I’m no longer jealous of people from Biblical times because I have experienced and learned about the significance and influence of the Spirit of the Lord dwelling inside of me. We, as followers of Jesus, have His spirit as a remarkable and beautifully intricate gift. The Spirit guides and convicts and teaches us in a way that only God could do. It kind of blows my mind.

I’m really glad we don’t have to feel like an over-attached pup whose owner left him alone. Because we are the opposite from alone. 

Climbing a volcano in Guatemala. Not Mt. Everest.

We have a small canvas that hangs in our house with a green painted cross and the verse “I thank my God every time I think of you” (Phil. 1:3). It was gifted to be by a friend and it reminds me of college and lessons learned the hard, painful way. Lessons learned through difficult times and tears shed in my tiny college apartment. It takes me back to a time in my life when it felt like I alone carried the burden of filling every grain of sand that exists in the world into a mason jar or attempting to climb to the top of Mt. Everest while wearing flip-flops. I felt scared and frustrated and helpless.

It reminds me of the evil in the world and the silent battles people fight every day against that evil.

I keep the painted canvas on display because it also reminds me of my friend. It reminds me of the time she stood next to me and pledged to carry my (now seemingly small) burden with me. It reminds me that we don't have to be silent about our afflictions; there are other people willing to stand beside us and share not only in the joys of life, but also in the trials. And while there are so many untrustworthy and hateful people in the world, there are trustworthy, honest people out there too, willing to fight battles and wipe tears and carry burdens. We don't have to climb Mt. Everest alone.

How beautiful it is that Jesus tells us to "bear one another’s burdens and so fulfill the law of Christ" (Gal. 6:2). This was one of the first verses I memorized, but I often overlooked it because- yeah, I know this already- bear one another’s burdens, love your neighbor as yourself...I learned this in Sunday school when I was 10 and received a sticker on my Bible for it too. But when I sit down and really think about the implications of this verse, I am amazed. Because if we really bear one another’s struggles and pains, if we really love our neighbors as ourselves, if we truly care for each other the way Jesus did, it changes everything.

It’s why we have small groups and feed the homeless and bake casseroles (The train of thought regarding casseroles is so clear to me.) It’s why we cry while listening to hardships and why we cultivate relationships and speak kindly to strangers. We love because He first loved us. We are privileged to share in each other’s burdens because Jesus, the ultimate burden-bearer, took our sins upon himself. And bearing one another’s burdens is to imitate Christ.

I am constantly in awe of the intricacy, yet simplicity of the gospel.

Jesus, help us to bear one another’s burdens the way you bore ours: selflessly and sacrificially loving. 

When I visit someone’s house for the first time, one of the first things I notice is their pile of books (or lack thereof). I don’t take note of their books to be judgmental or make mental comparisons, but because I think people’s books reveal a lot about themselves and I have a weirdly fanatic, deep love for all types of literature. I’m the type of person who spends hours in Barnes & Noble (to Kevin’s dismay) and reads every word printed in her magazines and spends an entire Anthropologie gift card on coffee table books. And because I believe books are beautiful, magical manifestos, I love the idea that books should be displayed.

A good coffee table book is a combination of the best things. Art, writing, photography, fashion, and home décor are often wrapped up into the wonderful, glossy bound pages. It is both aesthetically pleasing and useful and I can’t think of a better object to display on a coffee table than a big, beautiful book. While I am still trying to master the art of coffee table décor, I have found that charming and good books are the foundations of my ideal coffee table: the coffee table that I would like to sit next to when I have deep conversations and cry happy tears and watch Friends reruns.

And since I feel the innate need to share my finds with other coffee table book lovers (if that’s not a real thing, then it should be), here are five favorites that I would proudly display on my coffee table (if I don’t already):

1. Ralph Lauren // Ralph Lauren

2. The Nesting Place // Myquillyn Smith

3. Vivian Maier: Street Photographer // Vivian Maier, John Maloof

4. A Perfectly Kept House is the Sign of a Misspent Life // Mary R. Carter

5. The Americans // Robert Frank, Jack Kerouac

Also, keep these little Bible verse cards on your coffee table to act as encouraging reminders or as favors handed out to guests! 

If we sat down for coffee, I would probably tell you about my summer. I would laugh as I told you about the time the boat died in the middle of the lake and how we paddled with skis back to the boat house. We would discuss the books we've read and how I am shamelessly re-watching all of Gilmore Girls in my spare time. I would show you pictures of the beautiful places I was able to see and share in amazement at God's creation.

So how does a coffee date sound? Pour a fresh cup, pull up a seat, and allow me to tell you a little about the adventures this summer held.

First we retreated to Highlands, North Carolina where the small downtown is as charming and captivating as the mountains surrounding it. We went on hikes of exploration with our pup, ate the best local ice cream, and listened to the sound of raindrops fall rhythmically on the tin roof.

Then we were off to more mountains in Blue Ridge, GA where we stayed at a quaint bed & breakfast. I sipped coffee on the front porch and saw breathtaking views from 6,000 feet above ground. And I was filled with amazement at the Lord's artistic strokes of lush green and deep blues. 

After all of the driving north, we finally headed south to the place where I have spent most of my summers, the place I always find myself aching for like a long lost friend. This house has character with a bright red door and little white fence, where the screen door slams in announcement of another soul's exodus to the white sand and salty air. I awoke with the sun's return and walked to the old donut shop, devouring the most delicious red velvet donut only minutes later. I paddled out into the ocean, straining my eyes to see where the ocean meets the sky; then laughed and tumbled amidst the waves back to shore. I read Steinbeck while digging my toes into the sand, glancing up often in an attempt to soak in the spectacular view. 

For the final trip of the summer, we drove north once again, past the white-haired men selling peaches and peanuts, past the big red barns dressed proudly with the stars and stripes, and past the little white churches all in a row. The winding dirt roads brought us to the cedar shake cottage right on the lake. We cast lines off the floating dock while I thought of Thoreau's insight: Many men go fishing all of their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after. We rode the boat until the lake ended and watched the sun set beneath the mountains, where its light shone in magnificent rays before dipping into its resting place, and you could almost hear the heavens shouting the majesty and mercy of the Father.

In each of these trips, my heart is full of wonder at the Lord's creativity in all of His creation. And I reflect on how this summer has been a time for growth and discovery. A time for learning and healing.  A time for adventure.

Thanks for taking a coffee break with me.