Sunday, November 23, 2014


A few months ago, when I was living in Portland, Oregon, I had a conversation with an artist fellow at the Goodwill Outlet who was searching for audiobooks to listen to while he worked on projects. He asked if there was anything I recommended.
I suggested two works to him: Leviathan, by Scott Westerfeld, being a steampunk retelling of World War I, and a delightful nonfiction titled The Disappearing Spoon, by Sam Kean, which is a history of the periodic table of the elements littered with entertaining anecdotes. 
When he asked which one he should start with, I told him to start with the nonfiction.
He raised an eyebrow. "It's that good?"
I insisted that it was. But then, in a moment of insecurity, I shrugged. "Maybe I'm weird."
"Oh, I've no doubt that you are," he replied, "But that doesn't mean that you can't also be right."

His last comment stuck with me. Being weird doesn't mean that you can't be right. 
It immediately brings to my mind the Church and the radically counter-cultural ways we are called to live our lives. Giving generously to the poor. Inviting people into our homes. Showing love to the unlovable.  We are called to live in a way that doesn't make sense to most of the world, but makes perfect sense if you believe in a Creator who is going to set the world right again, and who is asking us to be a part of it along with Him.
So let us be bold.
Let us live without fear and be a part of bringing His Kingdom into this earth.
Let's be weird.

Thursday, October 2, 2014

Mandilynn Makes Pretty Things.

I thought I'd try something a little different for me and start up an Etsy shop! I've always loved wearing and making unique accessories, and now I'm sharing them with YOU! Take a look. :)

Saturday, March 29, 2014

"Vaguely Homeless"

To say “I travel a lot,” is a bit of an understatement.
I play in a band, and we sometimes tour for months at a time.
I love it.
I love every aspect of it.
Meeting new people, trying new foods, sleeping on the floors of strangers, getting up on that stage every night with my best friends and playing songs together, trusting God that He will take care of us every single day. 
But I don't know where home is anymore.
I haven't stayed anywhere for longer than a few months in almost two years.
It feels like pieces of me are scattered all over the country.
Places I want to be, people I want to spend time with.
When boys at parties ask me where I'm from, I smile and answer that I'm vaguely homeless at the moment.
They usually reply with something like, “Oh man, that's so cool!”
Yes. It is.

I can't help but wish I had somewhere - or someone -
to come back to
and know that I was where I belonged.
My sister's mother-in-law's brownie recipe! (I'm posting this here partly so I can find it easily later :P)