My dad bought me a sunflower today

Dear friends,

It's been a while. And I apologize for the inevitably long post that will follow, due to that fact. I'll admit, I have not spent much time on the computer, keeping up to date with things such as this beautiful little blog. But I have just read through all of your recent posts, and this has left me encouraged.

Hannah V.- your post reminded me how much I'm going to miss your presence in the fall (that goes for all of you, really- Claire and I might just go crazy!). I do hope you are well, and that you are taking joy in all the gifts each day brings, like rain.

Sarah- It's hard to beleive you are at Gordon right now. It seems like a different world in my mind- a world that I can't wait to return to. I miss you dearly, and I pray that this next week with the campers brings you renewed encouragement. Also, I like your drawings a lot- keep them up!!

Ashley- we are due for a long conversation, but then again, when are we not? I always love reading your reflections. They are so full of truth and honesty

Genny- it seems like you are truly coming to appreciate the place you came from. That makes me happy :) I hope you are glad you decided go south for the summer.

Claire- Thank you for the dainty postcard! It made my day- first, to see that lovely picture of cabbage, and then to see the cheerful message from you. I hope you are soaking in every bit of summer these days.
Hannah- glad to hear you've been having fun playing music. I hope you are still enjoying being in the great town of Lancaster. And I hear you on your frustration and concerns of the notions of rest and work.

Now, here's a little bit about my summer. I'll try to keep it concise:

This is the beautiful and peaceful place I have had the privelege of working at for the past month. Appropriately named Shalom Farms They have chickens

and raspberries...

I learned how to drive a tractor,

and made friends with a really fun girl named Rosa (she's the other farm intern).

I have eaten yummy farm vegetables almost everyday,
and I have spent time in the city of Richmond, learning about issues of food security and delivering food to our various partners, like this youth farm stand.

But perhaps on of the most significant aspects of these past few weeks has been my conversations with this farmer:

Steve is in his mid thirties, is married with two adorable kids, and has a masters in theological studies from Vanderbilt. In just these few weeks, he has become one of the most influential people/ role models I have ever met. Our conversations have alternated between deep theological questions, to digging potatoes, to the contemplative life, and the meaning of work.

He has caused me to become even more passionate about the things I care about. He's also convinced me that I should consider going to divinity school one day (I am beginning to entertain the idea).

For those of you who have read him (Ashley I know for sure), he's basically a modern day Wendell Berry. I've learned a lot from him, to say the least.

I've also gotten to work a lot with Dominic, who works in the city with our partnerships. He is unbearably cool. In fact, everyone I've met who works for and with this organization is unbearably cool. In part because of their personalities, taste in music, and intelligent discourse. But moreso because of their apparent sense of contentment and joy in their work and life.

That part makes me look at my own life and realize how young and restless and place-less I feel. And also, I'll admit, a little jealous.

Not to mention I feel such a tension between the life I see exemplified by these kinds of people, and then the life that I have grown up in, with people (including my family and church family)who don't necessarily acknowledge the same realities that I do.

Living at home has been a very good, and challenging, experience. My heart has been working hard to reconcile those differences and tensions. I have had a few bouts with escalated frustration and grief at the sheer brokenness of things, which I seem to feel more acutely in contexts where there are shiny but transparent venirs over it all (the suburbs).

Needless to say, once again, I thank God for friends like you. You all are a constant reminder and symbol to me of Real life. So thanks for being that, and keep it real.

Love,
Nina

how bout that?