Miscellaneous Musings

Tragedy and Triumph

2009-06-10T12:26:00.000-07:00

So I've often wondered why for some people, life seems to come easy. All goes according to plan, things fall into place. It seems unfair that some people seem to have everything, and others--often those who we would think deserve it the most, have to struggle. A friend once explained it that God sometimes let's us face hard times so we come to know him in a deeper way, so that we grow in our knowledge of Him. One wonders if you come to a point where you can't grow any more.

I've also heard it said that God has the right to break a vessel to show what he has poured into it. Because only in our brokenness does our true source of strength show.

So this guy, my prom date, has had an eventful time of it since high school. And the happy events of college, and marriage and going to seminary and having a baby girl might have been overshadowed by tragic events such as an accident, the death of his wife, and multiple injuries to recover from...but for the grace of God.

God promises us that he won't give us more than we can handle. I have no doubt that his promise is true--but sometimes I wonder about what he thinks one man can handle.

My friend told me of what had happened to him, and turns around and asks me what he can pray for me about. He says that he has seen the hand of God provide at every turn. He finds the good. He seeks to be a blessing to others.

And I'm amazed. At his faith. To see someone who has come through the fire and come out still praising God on the other side is quite a beautiful sight to see.

my almost high school sweetheart

2009-06-01T14:41:00.000-07:00

So I didn't like high school. Well, maybe I did. But I didn't like high school nearly as much I liked college. I always liked the school work, and I had some good friends--I guess it was the politics of high school I never liked. The popular and the not so popular..I made it by in high school.

One of the highlights of my senior year was a guy who was in my economics class. He was looking at some of the same colleges I was, and he was terribly funny. Shy.. quiet--but funny. He'd make snide comments in class under his breath so I could hear them and I would laugh--usually loudly.

He threw on the track & field team. I managed the girls team. He'd give me rides home from meets. I always had such a fun time when I was with him. Something about him put me at ease...made me forget my awkwardness. I found a journal entry from high school and one of the things on my list of things to do was to get him to pay attention to me.

So imagine my elation when one afternoon, after a meet, in his car, outside my house, before I went in.. he asked if I'd like to do something with him sometime. And I said sure! and after he drove away? I did a little dance of joy on my driveway.

And we went to the movies, and to a fast food place afterward. And it was great. And about a week or two later, he called me up and asked me to the prom. And I was elated again...

And prom was just lovely. I mean, as lovely as awkward teenage rituals can be. I found friends during the fast dances, and went back and found him for every slow dance. I don't remember all the details of the night, but I loved being there with him.

Awhile later, after graduation, possibly the following year, I came into some preseason football tickets. And since he was practically the only guy I knew who liked football at the time, I called him up. And we went. We got lost on the way, and he got frustrated, but we went. And had a great time, from what I remember.

And then I lost touch with him. I saw him briefly after college at a retail store where I was working, but nothing more.

Imagine my surprise when he found me on Facebook a few months ago. And was single.

Still breathing

2009-06-01T12:01:00.000-07:00

I was informed by my dear big brother that I've been remiss at blogging as of late. I'm sure he's the only one that has noticed, but just in case he's not, I'd like to say that I'm still alive and kicking, and should have something to say soon.

Sometimes it's a matter of having too much to say and not knowing where to start. Maybe I'll start at the very beginning...a very good place to start.

Greatest of these is Love.

2009-04-07T08:29:00.000-07:00

So I just started a study with some girls from my church on the Fruit of the Spirit. And we started with the first and foremost fruit of LOVE.
And I was struck when we were talking about how God is love, that God has to be so much more. HE has so many more characteristics other than love, doesn't He? His justice and power and His beauty--and yet, maybe it isn't our definition of God that is lacking.

Maybe it is our definition of LOVE. Maybe true love encompasses all that God is. And all the wonder and beauty and might and mystery and steadfastness that is the God we serve.

So if we allow God to love others through us? When we choose to say, I can't do this, but you can Lord. What amazing love will be ours.

Profound and not so profound

2009-03-26T15:56:00.000-07:00

My brain has been on another planet for the last few days and I'm not sure why. Actually, I have my suspicions, but I will probably leave my speculations til another time...a time when things are clearer, and wonderings are more solid.

But until then, I feel like I should have something profound to say. Life goes on around me, and it occurs to me that I, a lover words, should have some deep observation to make, using eloquent turns of phrase.

And yet, oddly enough--I'm out of words.

Tell me why

2009-03-20T14:48:00.000-07:00

Why is it that we so often look to what is missing in our lives? Why do only want what others have, instead of enjoying what God has given us?

I am abundantly blessed. I just moved into a new house. It's a very cute house, and I'm renting it with a sweet friend, for very little money. My landlord is my church, my commute is short. We have a front porch and brand new windows and appliances. We even have a yard and neighbors--and an attic.

My family is all healthy, and doing well. They're also closeby. My mom and I like to hang out. My dad is still safely trucking around the country. My brother and his wife just had another baby--another boy. I'm an aunt again.

I am employed. I work as the assistant of one of the funniest men I know, who cares about me and how I'm doing, not just how I do my job. I get to help proclaim God's love to dark corners of the world for a living.

And best of all, I know Jesus. I know He has taken all of my hurts and sins and paid the price for me. I know that I can spend eternity with Him.

Pretty great life, right? I need to see all He's done, instead of what I think I need. Because I'm so very often wrong.

Ancient Civilizations

2009-02-23T13:35:00.000-08:00

So with all I have to do this week, there's no way I should have picked up a book to read. But I was sick last week, and started one--oh, but it was a good one...and it's so good--I just had to start the second one after I finished the first.

For anyone who has read Francine Rivers books, you know what I'm talking about. The Mark of the Lion series is about ten years old. But they are amazing. They're set around Rome in about 70 A.D. and they follow the forturnes and trials of one slave girl, the family she serves and a gladiator she befriends. The characters are so lifelike that you want to cry for them and scream at them sometimes, and of course know what happens next in their lives.

I also find myself learning from them. Hadassah is the name of the slave girl--and her quiet persistant faith and witness is incredible. She has this peace and joy that is evident to all who know her. It always makes me wonder what people see when they look at me.

The other interesting thing about these books, is their depiction of Rome and the moral decay one could find there. Since the story includes a gladiator, there's much talk of the games, and the bloodlust of the Roman mob. And as you read, you are disgusted that people could be so cruel--but the more you read about the society they live in, the more you see how they could have come to putting so low a price on human life.

But then as you read, you find their morals sound eerily familiar. The idea that there is no absolute truth, and you need only to look out for your own happiness, and those traditionalists are all wrong, and we should live for today and get all we want and...

So I'm not one to sililoquize over the moral decay in America today, but something resonantes with me when I read these stories. The once great, invincible Roman empire crumbled. Scattered to the four winds. It makes one think.

An Eye Condition

2009-02-20T12:32:00.000-08:00

So I've suffered from an condition my whole life..and it has to do with where I look and what I see. I get so focused on my life and my problems that I feel overwhelmed, and depressed...or I get judgemental and snobbish... and neither one is healthy or helpful. I mean, just this week..I've been sick and tired and stressed and...

And then I hear from friends-- friends who have lost love ones tragically, women who have suffered multiple miscarriages, people who struggle with their health day after day after day...guys who've lost their jobs and can't find another.

I hear stories from afar of people who don't have enough to eat, who are dying because of not enough supplies or resources or food or shelter..I read blog entries online of people who are hurting so much that they think there is no hope in the world...

I see that I have been abundantly blessed. With family and friends, with shelter and food, with money enough in the bank and a job that I enjoy most days. And more than all that--I have been blessed to know that there IS hope in the world. And love and truth and beauty. And Someone who loves not only me--but all those who are hurting around me. And when I can comprehend that--really soak that in...

The only possible result is praise, and suddenly my eyes are clear again.

10,000 Hours

2009-02-20T12:24:00.000-08:00

I went to a conference this weekend and one of the speakers said that you had to spend ten thousand hours doing something before you would be good at it--so if you look at it in a year--if you spend one hour a day doing something, for a year--you'd spend 365 hours. So in this speaker's estimation--it would only take you 27.4 years to get really good.

So in all this abstract estimation, I decided that I like to write. I want to write. I worry that I don't write well. Or I write tritely. Or I write silly drivel that no one else would want to read. But the important thing is that I write. So I'm going to try and commit to writing every day...

And just think..if I can get up to two hours a day.. it should only take 13.7 years to get really good.

Humbled by a Happy Thought

2009-01-30T07:20:00.000-08:00

So I've thought emailing forwards and those tests and quizzes was a bit well juvenile. But there are a few that are going around Facebook recently that grown adults I love and respect seem to be doing. One is 25 random facts--and I've thought about doing that, but I'm not sure if I know 25 completely random and interesting things about myself, though I may try. But the other one is the "Things I know about you" one--where you list the last 20 or so people who posted on your site, and give them numbers and then you answer random questions referencing the number. It makes some interesting answers.

I was totally amazed when I got one in my inbox today, and a friend of mine posted in answer to the question What is the worst and best thing about number 15? (#15 being me)
"She can be her own worst enemy, but I would not be where I am today without her."

And I do know the first part is true--my own insecurities do tend to hold me back more than anything else.

But what if the second part is true too?
I'm awed and humbled by that.

That God would use me to make such a difference in one person's life. And maybe my friend tends to exaggerate, and just has a way of turning a phrase..but it was definitely a happy thought for me today.

Giddy

2009-01-22T07:47:00.000-08:00

So I know I'm supposed to be a grown-up. But I get so giddy and kid-like when I see an Amazon package waiting for me. Such an amazing event--getting books by mail. Maybe it's the fact that these will not only provide excitement and enrichment in this moment, but in all the moments after when I open each book. I know it's an old saying that a book is a present you open again and again--but I do believe it's true.

Epiphany

2009-01-15T07:00:00.000-08:00

I know it's several days past the actual day of Epiphany, but I wanted to take a minute to tell of an insight that God allowed me to see recently.

At church we had been discussing the origin of sin, and why Eve went and ate that fruit and why didn't God just step in and stop her. He could have easily shown up and said.. ah ha--what do you think you're doing?? and they would have said.. Oh.. I'm sorry Lord, it'll never happen again. Things were perfect in the Garden, so God probably wouldn't have yelled too much--so just the rarity of the event would have had an impact. And life would have gone on perfectly. Why didn't God do that?

It seemed easy enough to explain. God wanted to tell a redemptive story. He wanted to give mankind years to try and do things on their own. And then say, here's a way. He wanted to show them what they were saved from. What His grace bought them out of--He wanted them to see that. So he waited several thousand years before Jesus appeared.

Would we have realized His grace and mercy if we had stayed in the garden? If everything had stayed perfect, would we have looked to him for our perfecting? I can't know for sure, but I don't think so. Isn't it human nature not to know how good we have it? God wanted to be sure we knew how futile it was to do things on our own.

And as I sat in my Sunday School class, in this discussion, I realized something. God is doing the same thing in my life. When he makes me wait for things--such as a husband and home of my own--He's allowing me to see that my fulfillment doesn't (or shouldn't) come from those things. My identity is found in the fact that I'm a child of God--not in my marital status. I'm not sure I would have appreciated that had I not had this waiting time.

And when and if they do arrive--I will know to treasure them. And love the Giver of these gifts more, because in His grace, He allowed me the time to learn to love Him.

So let us not let the time go duly by.

Under Construction

2009-01-14T10:28:00.000-08:00

So inspired with a new year--I have plans to make my blog pretty. So bear with me and it should be looking spiffy in no time. Whether it will be insightful as well is yet to be decided.

Dancing to a Different Beat

2008-11-11T12:46:00.000-08:00

So a few weeks ago I was in Chicago. It seemed like a nice city. I was there for a conference for work. And as I got off the plane with my coworkers, I noticed that my breathing seemed a bit labored. Mmm. So I took out the trusty inhaler.

I didn't notice much of an improvement. But I lugged my luggage (hah.. I wonder if that's where the word luggage came from..) to the rental car shuttle. I drove the frighteningly big SUV (that I got care of all the free upgrades) into the city, parked the massive thing in the garage, sat through orientation and got to dinner--all the while thinking--my lungs don't seem to be working properly.

Calling my mom, she advised to take my inhaler, drink fluids and see if it's better in the morning--and if not--"get yourself to an emergency room". Ok...that doesn't sound like fun.

But the next morning, despite having slept fine (and having avoided serious injury after slipping on the ridiculously slick bathroom floor in the dorm I was staying in) the breathing problem was worse. And when I tried to multitask--like sing and stand up and breathe--well.. I was rewarded with lightheadedness and slight palpitations. Needless to say, this was not normal.

But what to do? I'm at a strange college, in a strange city--and my coworkers are off giving seminars. A woman who was also there for the conference stopped to talk to me about something else, and when I imparted to her that I was having a bit of a time breathing, she prayed with me--and then she talked to the administration desk and found that there was a group of students who volunteer to take people to the hospital when they need it. So my new friend arranged for them to come get me.

Then this young guy shows up and takes us through the city at a break neck pace (if I wasn't already having breathing issues, I might have developed them) and eventually got us to the ER at Northwestern Memorial Hospital. My friend stayed with me until they got my name at the desk and then she left. It wasn't long until they took me aside for triage..and I got a red sticker. (which means I'm the most urgent of cases, which is slightly alarming and comforting at the same time).

They called my name soon after and took me upstairs to a pretty nice little room.
"you can put on this gown--take off everything to the waist..." which is easily done.. but trying to tie the dumb gown at the back while having shortness of breath? Not so much. I finally asked the nurse if she could help me out..which I seriously don't think I should have to ask.. but alas.. what can you do?

So after she grilled me about my asthma habits, I finally imparted the information that it really didn't feel like my normal asthma and there was pressure in my chest...so she put me on a heart monitor. And that's when the show started.

Apparently my heart was going from 85 beats a minute.. to 185 beats per minute. I had doctors in my room pretty quick after that. They told me they were going to try and figure it out. I felt like I was on an episode of "House" except less witty dialogue.

They did all kind of fun and not so fun tests. Gave me drugs (I mean meds) At one point I was hooked up to so many things--two IV tubes, a heart monitor, a blood pressure cuff, a pulse-ox cord..it was quite an ordeal just to go three feet to the bathroom, I can tell you.

They told me my potassium was low, so they were going to give me some--but apparently potassium is caustic, so they had to dilute it--I kept trying to tell them that they could have just fed me some bananas. I mean--they're rich in potassium and they would serve another purpose--I was starving..

Anywho..the checked everything--no blood clot in my lung...no hyperactive thyroid...no drugs in my system (apparently cocaine could have caused it)...and nothing wrong with the function of my heart (I should know, I got to watch it on the screen)

Turns out some of the signals in your heart can just go wacky... and send the wrong signals and cause your heart to beat irregularly. So I got to spend the night in the hospital (not reccommended) and eat really bad food (and have the food lady yell at me) just for them to tell me that it's one of those weird things that don't have any root cause, they just happen.

SO they told me to go straight home (much to my mother's relief who was going crazy back in PA; and much to my chagrin since I had planned on visiting friends) and go see an Electrophysiology Cardiologist and ask him what to do...apparently there's a procedure they can do, to go in and zap it. (sounds official, doesn't it?) But our guy back in Philly (one of these specialists actually goes to my church) gave me some meds first and I've been fine.

Just like that. So anyway...most of you know this particular misadventure already.. but for posterity. It was quite an ordeal--but I've been trying to process why God does stuff like this, you know? Minor irritations, really. Maybe it's to remind me that I can't do everything on my own--to ask for help more often.

But mainly I think it's just for me to trust God that he knows best. Even when things seem all out of sync.

Hostel environment

2008-10-09T07:00:00.000-07:00

I like traveling. I even like staying in hostels. I just don't like living in one.

Last week, I had settled into bed with a book, and my roommate was upstairs in the shower.. and then the doorbell rang. Now, in this age of cell phones, an unexpected door bell ring is rare--espcially so after 11:30 at night. I figured someone needed to get a hold of one of us--cell phone died, car broken down--some kind of emergency.. so I ran to the door in my pjs.

I looked outside the window and there's this face, illuminated by tbe blue glowing light of a cell phone.. I jumped. I figured it must be a friend of my roommates that I had met the week before..so I cracked the door and asked "what are you doing here??" Umm.. Is she here? well.. yes--is she expecting you?? um.. yeah?..mm sounds fishy to me. So I tell him to wait there. Bolt the door and then go upstairs.

I knock on the bathroom door.
who is it?
Who do you think it is? your roommate. Hey.. um this guy is at the door.
What?
Are you expecting him?
No.
What do you want me to do?
I'll be down in a minute, you can let him in.
Are you sure??
yeah, he's all right

Are you sure??

So I let him in.. even gave him a glass of water. And then I went to bed, mumbling that people really should not come to visit after 11pm.

So early this week, I get a phone call from my roommate (we rarely actually see each other) SHe tells me that two girls from Uganda are going to be staying at the house--Arriving late that night. She assured me that she would be there to let them in. I asked if they were staying all week. I've been a little stressed out so I wanted to be sure I'd have a little space at some point this week. Oh no.. one or two days.

I saw no sign of them Tuesday morning.. or Tuesday evening. Course.. I didn't see my roommate either. I figured they must have had a change of plans or something. But on Wednesday evening I come home and there are African articles in my living room. Carved wood.. drums..so the girls from Africa are here. Great. But I still didn't see any sign of them, besdies the stuff that most obviously wasn't mine.

So about 9:30 that night, after a nap, I was watching a show on TV. And then a girl who I didn't know came down the stairs and sat on the other couch. She looked sleepy, so I just said, "Hey how are you doing?" and she mumbled fine.. and sat there for all of a minute or two and went back upstairs.

A minute later, I hear people on the stairs outside the door, and I figure it's my roommate.. then there's this loud knocking sound.. What the?? I open the door, it's her, plus the scary guy from the other night. She says she forgot her key. (you forgot your key with all these strangers staying at our house??) They make their way to the kitchen.. I finish my program and go to bed.

Well.. I was reading in bed. And eventually all goes silent and everyone is either gone or upstairs (I assume.) And then at 11:30 the doorbell goes off.. seriously?? I was ticked. I was thinking--if it's him again, SHE can let him in!! then there's a knock.. and the doorbell again. UGH! Can't she hear it upstairs? So I go to the door, ready to give the guy a piece of my mind.. but it's a girl.. who says, oh hi, sorry, were you asleep? and comes right in like she lives there.

I just go to bed. Maybe Im just having a bad day-- and I'm unnecessarily grouchy--but I don't like people coming in and out after 11, especially people i don't know.

This morning was a late morning. I finally rolled out of bed and got showered and dressed. I heard the TV on in the living room. So I figured I'd see one of the girls from last night. I get out there--nope. New girl. Never seen her before. I said "Hello, How are you?" and she said fine. "you're Holly?" Oh.. well yes. She introduced herself. I asked how long they were staying. Saturday morning.

I'm living in a hostel. My landlord should lower the rent--I can stay in a hostel for 16 bucks a night overseas.

Family and Friends

2008-09-11T11:57:00.001-07:00

I've been thinking about family lately. I had dinner with a cousin of mine the other night and just thought how thankful I am that I get to know her as a person and a friend and then in addition be happy that she's related to me.

But with so much of my family, that is not the case. I love them because they're mine--my brother or my cousin or my aunt or uncle...but so very rarely because they are who they are--because they're sensitive, or artistic or insightful or witty--these things so often get overlooked in our family, when these very qualities would be sought for in friends.

And even more seriously, I find that I tend to overlook common courtesy when it comes to my family. How often do I neglect my family or ignore them or fail to stay in touch, when I would never dream of treating friends that way?

Ironically, when we do these things to family because we've taken them for granted for so long, we lose the chance to see those qualities that might make them friends as well.

This weekend, my brother is celebrating his marriage to his wife by holding the ceremony and reception that they didn't have when they got married five years ago. Our families--hers and ours, of course, will come together...but more poignantly, family from both sides of my own family will be in the same room--for the first time in almost 30 years. Those of you who have any experience with divorced parents can understand what a momentous occasion this will be.

I'm hoping to take time to talk to folks--those related to me and those not, so I can be blessed by the wonders that can be found in people---related by blood or by heart.

In the Dark

2008-09-08T07:41:00.000-07:00

So, I know God has good purposes. He uses things in our lives to teach us new truths. He brings us to strange places to show us something we've never seen before so we can know him more. This is very good to know when things seem difficult.

But what if things keep happening. Friends keep moving far away, for instance--what is God trying to teach me? Coworkers are leaving work. Friends are leaving town. Is that stay here and hold the fort.. or get out now while the getting is good?

I'm a bit in the dark here. I'll let you know when the light dawns.

Brownie Violation

2008-09-02T13:42:00.000-07:00

So I had a bit of a meltdown after a picnic this weekend. The reason? My brownies went missing. The scenario went like this.

We had our annual church picnic after church this Sunday. It's held at this beautiful state park in the area. Always a fun time of hanging out with the church family. You're usually asked to bring a salad or dessert. Since I don't ever think of these things ahead of time, I made my dessert right after church on Sunday. It was brownies (into which I threw m&ms) and they were just cool enough to pick up and throw into the car and be on my way. When I got there, I put them with the rest of the desserts (quite a haul, let me tell you) and went to await the opening of the food lines.

And so we ate. And toward the end of the eating, I noticed that no one had taken any of my brownies. Far from being insulted at this slight to my culinary abilities, I was excited. I could take a whole pan of brownies home. Have a few for dinner. Another couple for breakfast--this is great! Don't have to go grocery shopping for another couple days.

Later, a few friends and I decided to take a walk--and we ended up taking the hiking loop that covers 4 miles. It was a little longer than we expected, but it was good fun, and as we were approaching the end, I thought, great--at least we have a whole lot of brownies to eat when we return. We approached the picnic pavilion.

There stood a few ladies who very considerately had stuck around after everyone else had left because I had left my keys and purse on one of the tables. Thankful for their watchfulness I looked to the dessert table. And stopped. Where were my brownies? My big, uncut pan of chocolate? Um, there was an entire pan of brownies? Where did they go?

Oh, we gave them away.

You what???? "um.. who did you give them to?"

oh that family over there, as she points to a parking lot with quite a few remaining cars.

What family????? Who has my brownies--grrrrrr. "Um, they were in a pan--who did you give them to??"

Oh.. she names a family with a bunch of kids.

Great--can't take them back now--then I'd be a hoyden who steals treats from children. Um. Okay.

Meanwhile I'm telling myself that you really need to leave and get in your car because very shortly, you're going to throw a fit. And yell. And cry.. because mean people stole your brownies and gave them to children and you have to be a grown up and go without and you don't want to be seen doing this--so hurry up and get in your car.

I was mad. So I smiled, said see ya! and got in my car. My air fresheners were very nice not to laugh at me or make light of my distress, and I was able to vent my frustration loud and long.

And by some crazy coincidence, my mother also made brownies with m&ms for her church function and she was nice enough to share some of them with me the next day. So, no harm done.

But I think it was just that someone had stolen what was rightfully mine. I know it was greedy and petty to want them back--but sometimes, you really shouldn't meddle with other peoples' chocolate.

Big Heart

2008-08-12T14:20:00.000-07:00

So I've been writing a travel blog because I've been traveling, but I had to note this on here.

My church lost a great man today. He was a big man--with a big heart--literally and figuratively. He sat behind me, and loved to sing worship music, with gusty amens, and hallelujahs. I remember that one of the first things I ever did at church, about 7 years ago, was attend a car clinic to learn how to properly take care of my car--and he was giving advice, since he was a mechanic by trade. I still remember him telling me the penny trick to see if my tires need air.

In the last few years I've learned to love his children and have watched in amazement how they've grown in grace and knowledge. He and their mother have done an amazing job raising them to love God and people and to have a passion for ministry.

Such a big personality is going to be sorely missed. My prayers are with his family, and I look forward to the day, when all knees bow in worship at the throne, singing "Worthy is the Lamb" and I hear his heartfelt agreement behind me once again.

Abba

2008-07-24T08:41:00.000-07:00

Been thinking about how to love God, wondering if I do it well. I know Jesus said that if we love him we will feed his sheep and follow his commandments.

But I think it's more than that--because the Christian life is more than following the rules. More than doing what we should, more than serving others.

No, we love God when we trust Him. He's our Father. He's looking out for us. I think if we respond to our lives with more trust and less worry. More letting God do His thing and less telling Him how we want it done.

I usually get a better reaction from my parents when I treat them like a daughter should, as opposed to a casual guest. I'm more likely to benefit from the stores of their well stocked kitchen, some fresh baked cookies--when I come and hang out a while and sacrifice my time and help out if need be, rather then when I come in for a meal and leave.

God wants us to acknowledge him as Father, and then treat him as such. With respect and reverence, yes, but also with complete trust and dependence. We can say with complete confidence "Abba, Father..I hurt. And I need comforting." or "God, I trust you, but I don't understand. Help me understand."

I think that's how we need to love God. Not by just following the letter of the law, not by doing your best--but by trusting Him to be who He says He is. I'm not sure why this is such a revelation to me.

Bummed

2008-07-17T11:43:00.000-07:00

As children, we're completely dependent on our parents. Dependent on our parents for our well being--physical...emotional...spiritual.

As an adult--I should be dependent on only myself...and God, and just let my parents be who they are, right?

Then why, even now, when my father disappoints me--when he says he's going to be somewhere and then is not--why do I still get upset?

Like I'm ten and looking out my front door for the millionth time since an hour before hand when he was supposed to be there...

I sort of wish I grew out of disappointment...or my dad grew out of not showing up.

Home with Casey

2008-07-10T13:24:00.001-07:00

So on a lighter note.. I'm excited. I get to housesit this coming week (starting tomorrow) for a friend at work. She has the cutest house--and a wonder West Highland terrier named Casey. I think we'll get a long quite well.

Abundant need

2008-07-10T13:24:00.000-07:00

So in my previous post, I was whining about wishing my life were different. And on some days that is so very true. But have you ever met someone who isn't like that? I mean, you meet them, and they tell you about their life and their pursuits and they love it. And you're sitting there almost wishing your life was like that. Wishing that you could say.. wow I love my life. And while you're thinking this, you wonder...mmm, maybe if my life resembled theirs, I would feel like that.

But what if, their lives, are filled with things you know to be destructive. Things you've been told your whole life to avoid. (namely, drugs, premartial sex and excessive alcohol) And because you want to follow the rules you've been given, to please God and family and expectations, you avoid these things.

And you fill your life with other good things, like books,and prayer and people and ministry and conversation and joy and laughter. And you know in theory, this is supposed to be it. This is supposed to be life abundant. Life so abundant that there's not room or need for those other destructive things.

And yet, life doesn't always feel abundant. And somedays, it seems the other people have it all figured out, and I'm left with mediocity and disgruntlement. Something has to be wrong with my focus. It's gotta be me. Life abundant is promised. Christ wants that for us. And He really does want me to stay away from self-destructive behavior.

I really must be looking in the wrong direction...

Love and God and mermaids

2008-07-03T11:20:00.001-07:00

I don’t even know where to start to express where my head has been lately. Well quite literally, my head has been in a book… dreaming of dashing heroes and their gallantry. And when I’m not daydreaming about adventures that supposedly happened hundreds of years ago, I’m looking at my life and wishing it were different.

I have many blessings—please don’t misunderstand me. I have great friends and a great church and a great family. But my life doesn’t look the way I thought it would. In some ways it’s SO much better. I’ve learned to examine things more closely and the truths I’ve discovered about myself and about God have been so amazing and rewarding.

And I know it’s due to my reading material lately, but I’m wondering where my hero is? I’m not of a mind that says that I need a husband to be complete—to be happy. But I keep thinking that there is truly something missing. And I could say that it was because I wasn’t focusing on God enough and on my self too much and on my single status in particular…and that could be. But I also know that even when I’m communing closely with God, reading His Word and talking to him regularly, it is often to cry out and say—Lord? Why can’t I have what I long for? Why does it seem that everyone I know gets to have that—but not me?

And then there’s the fear, that what if God decides to give me a husband—and what if it’s not what I’ve looked for? What if it’s just something else that once you get it, it loses its charm?

It turns out that my mother was right—I have watched “A Little Mermaid” too many times. You know the song? The song that says.. I have all this stuff, but “who cares? No big deal… I want more!!!!” I only want what I can’t have. I can’t keep my eyes on all that He has blessed me with.

Changes

2008-07-03T11:20:00.000-07:00

"Oh," she thought, "how horrible it is that people have to grow up -- and marry -- and CHANGE!"

Here I have to agree with my favorite quotable heroine, Anne Shirley. Changes in life really are hard to get used to. Whether it be getting married or having kids, or moving far away, people don't stay the same...LIFE doesn't stay the same, as much as we want it to some days.

Sometimes I wonder why God made it so that everything changes. But I think, as with a lot of the challenges he sends our way--it's for us to find stability in Him...the UNCHANGEABLE. So good to know there is something we can count on.

True Beauty

2008-06-30T07:58:00.000-07:00

So if a beautiful flower grows up in the middle of the woods and no one ever sees it, is it beautiful? I've heard it said that beauty is in the eyes of the beholder---but what if it is never beheld? If no one really appreciates something for what it is, does it lose its value?

So many of the quandries of life come down to a matter of definitions. What makes something beautiful? What makes something valuable? Is it simply if somone values it? Or finds it so? I had a professor once say that beauty is NOT in the eyes of the beholder--it is truth and the evidence of God that makes something beautiful. That is why you can find a story beautiful, or a poem--because it speaks to our hearts of truth and goodness, even though it's not visible for us to see.

If that's true, then beauty is never wasted--any kind of beauty. Because beauty that doesn't show evidence of God, isn't true beauty at all, and that which is true, is all for Him anyway. And God has never needed man to acknowledge His glory to be glorious.

Puff and powder

2008-06-23T13:07:00.001-07:00

So, in my convalascence, getting back to being well rested and being able to eat solid foods, I visited my local library. I found some delightful stories that I've read before, though have forgotten the details of--if you like adventure and romance and fun and history, read something by Patricia Veryan. You won't be sorry.

Anyway, the books that I've been reading are set around 1746, when everyone powdered their hair. Such a weird practice! I mean, why would anyone purposely make their hair look white? I mean, there are already too many hairs of that particular shade on my own head for my liking--why would I want to make them all that color? And we could just chalk (no pun intended) it up to crazy English people, but these same kinds of people (though a generation removed perhaps) came to found our own country. They wore wigs (usually cropping their own hair to do so) and powdered their hair (with some distressing health effects eventually) and thought they looked stylish... I don't get it.

Back from the depths of busyness

2008-06-23T13:04:00.000-07:00

So, my work schedule is finally a lot less crowded and I have a little room to breathe, and blog. Missed an entire month. If it makes it any better, I barely noticed the month of May. It was here, I was crazy and then it was gone and I was still crazy. Now that June is half over, I'm sane again, though I lost all my wisdom teeth.. so maybe wisdom leads to craziness..mmm, seems something to think about before I despair over my usual lack of sense.

Birthday Reflections

2008-04-29T12:54:00.001-07:00

Ok. So I have to come to grips with something. I turn 30 today. Yes, that's right. Goodbye twenties. I'm actually 30. It's weird.

It's not that I don't want to be thirty--I mean, the alternative to having another birthday is not having one and that would be bad. I'm glad to have a birthday. And I'm pretty confidant that I look younger than my age. People ask me regularly where I go to school and I love telling them that I've been out of school for eight years.

It's just...I thought my life would look different than this at thirty, that I would have more figured out. That being a grown up would be easier by now. The older I get, the more I'm convinced that everyone is just faking it. Just acting like they know what they're doing. I know the people I looked up to when I was a teenager were in their twenties and thirties and I was pretty sure they had life figured out. They were adults and knew how to do things and get things done.

But if they were anything like me now--they didn't have a clue, really. They just got good at looking as if they did.

Maybe that's what being grown up is all about. Knowing you're clueless, but being good at acting as if you weren't. Accepting the fact that you'll never really have it all together, but knowing that Someone will catch you when you fall and bring people into your life that are better at pretending than you are.

So here's to being 30. I can handle this. Honest.

Irish Courage

2008-04-15T12:22:00.000-07:00

I'm feeling a bit poetic lately, I suppose. Here's another bit of pleading, this time found on the breastplate of St. Patrick:

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me.
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

Gives us no excuses for cowardice.

Ah, to get away

2008-04-11T09:57:00.000-07:00

Found this poem today.

Thanks be to God the world is wide;
I'm going far from home.
For I forgot in Camelot
The man I loved in Rome.
And I forgot in Kensington
The man I loved in Kew.
And there must be a place for me
To think no more of you.

- by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Somedays it's hard to escape our own thoughts.

The Last Penguin

2008-04-08T08:21:00.000-07:00

So once there was this group of penguins. They hung out doing penguiny things--penguin parties, dance lessons, penguin feasts--they had loads of fun.

After awhile, the penguins start pairing off. One pair of penguins decides to stay together for always, then another pair. There was one pair that thought they might want to make a way together, but soon realized that it wouldn't work--- though most of them found each other easily and happily. But this merry band continued to pair off until there were a good number of pairs, all embarking on their journey as mates for life. But there was one left. She loved all her penguin friends--loved what each pair taught her. She also looked forward to the day that would bring her to her mate for life, and was patiently waiting until that day came. She watched as two by two, her friends left to make a life with each other.

She did have days when she was lonely, wondering if she would ever feel like she fit in. But she knew there were other penguins, and hopefully one for her some day. She also knew that her merry little band would always love her and include her in all their penguin shindigs, not to mention let her be auntie to any of the little penguins that might come along.

Forgiveness among Friends

2008-04-01T13:04:00.000-07:00

So I've heard it said that forgiveness is the key to a close relationship with God. When we forgive we humble ourselves, let go of our pride and resentments and allow for the grace of God to work. I've also heard it said that holding on to resentments hurts you more than it hurts the person you are mad at.

When we chose to forgive, we chose to give our brokenness to God to fix. We forgive whoever hurt us and give our hurt to the only One capable of fixing it.

I've heard all this before. But this week? God has been showing me that His word is true. He will restore things that are broken, and work in others' hearts even as He's working in mine.

Truth about Teeth

2008-03-18T12:20:00.001-07:00

So it's so unfair. My whole life, my teeth have been slow. Not in chewing, mind you--but in coming in. I was almost three and I had four teeth in my head. (two of which my brother accidentally knocked out with his big head) I got my twelve-year-old molars at 16--it's been a weird ride.

And now, when I'm almost 30, I'm finally becoming wise.. I'm getting my wisdom teeth in. Which most college students get out! And now I feel like a baby, because my gums are sore, and my other teeth keep sitting on the swollen part and I have this dull throb in the side of my jaw. And I'll probably have to go to the dentist, one of my favorite places to go.. and then possibly to the oral surgeon, which I'm sure will be even more fun.

Urgh.. No great truth to be learned here. Just urghing right now.

Road Trip Reflections

2008-03-18T12:20:00.000-07:00

This past weekend, I spent many hours in the car. Twenty four hours to be exact--12 hours on Friday--and then 12 hours again on Sunday. Well worth the trip, I got to see a dear friend of mine and her husband and their lovely little house, and the tiny town they live in and their wonder dog, Cortez.

My comrade in traveling was a patient, optimistic soul that I know from our days of working at a bookstore together. I told her stories about my life for hours. Adventures in college, and with boys and with my family; opinions about movies and books and television shows--who knew I was such an interesting person? Course, she might tell you different.

Anyway, what I realized was that there's really nothing like having that long to talk and laugh about life to really refresh your soul and help you to appreciate what is true and good---

Winter weather exists (a lit roadway sign told us of this in case there was any doubt)
London and Richmond are, in fact towns in Indiana and not England.
And when you can't see straight from laughing so hard--it may be time to pull over.

In a Little While

2008-03-11T07:03:00.000-07:00

Once, a few years ago, I was having a bad week. I had lost my job and the guy I was dating all in a matter of three days. A dear friend from college sent me an email that week and all it said was--

We're just here to learn to Love Him, we'll be home in just a little while.

And yes, it is a quote from an Amy Grant song, but it's just.. so comforting. Today I woke up feeling homesick. And maybe the home I was picturing in my head was one with a husband and family--but what I'm really longing for is my real home--where friends won't ever leave, and the longing that follows us all of our days here.. will finally be answered.

My Foggy Funk

2008-03-06T06:46:00.000-08:00

So I've felt myself in a funk for a few days. I'm getting to work--but not being really effective there and then when I get home.. it's me and my couch and whatever is on TV. No...that's not true--yesterday I spent some time trying to put a jigsaw puzzle together--and I got one whole side of the border done.. and then ended up sliding part of it into the box with all the other pieces so I just decided to scrap the whole thing..

But you see what I mean? Just, mindless, ineffective activity--and I just, so don't want to get out of bed--or go to bed for that matter (last night I put this off by watching My Fair Lady on TCM)I just...I just want to veg out for a few days and not have it matter. I want to turn off my brain that says "you should be doing something more constructive"...or "stuck at home alone? how sad" or "such a lazy bum"---I feel like I've been running marathons for weeks, and now I'm wondering why I'm tired, and a bit spacey. Suddenly I'm existing in a pea soup fog.. so oppressive that I can hardly move, and so thick, my next step is questionable.

But I was thinking this morning (which is progress, I haven't been doing much of that) that, the critics are in my own head. And if I want to drown them out--I need to either turn the TV up louder and sink deeper into my covers---or get up and get busy so I'm too engrossed to listen. I've tried both of these methods, and they work--for a while.

Or, better yet--I can listen to another Voice, until His is all I hear, and in that place will I find both strength to do as I should and rest when the road gets long.

Maybe it's just me

2008-02-11T07:37:00.000-08:00

I've just decided that I'm weird. Not that I really had any delusions to the contrary before this, but it's just become more clear in recent days.

I'm almost thirty years old, single--and I love my church. It's old, and traditional in many respects. It only has about 400 people. It has no celebrities visit, and doesn't have a television ministry. It's been in the same location for a hundred years. It still has Sunday school classes, a stone building, pews and stain-glass windows. They still have a choir, and an organ and on occasion they recite the Apostles' Creed. The pastor wears a tie and lives within walking distance of the church. It has members from generations when the church was the heart of the community and to them, it still is.

And though I see people my age and younger finding church homes in less traditional settings, whether that be house churches, or bigger churches with hipper music and lights and sound and multi-media events, I still feel more at home at Grace. Maybe I do have an old soul.. maybe I'm just an old-fashioned girl who grew up with hymns and likes to hear them every once and awhle. Maybe I am weird.

But maybe I enjoy being where the grace of God has a reputation of working and changing peoples' lives. Maybe I want to be a part of something that has a rich heritage of impact and care of the community. Maybe I want to have a place in the rest of its history, and be a part of this legacy of Grace.

Missing Friend

2008-02-06T11:11:00.001-08:00

So I had this friend in college. One of the ten or so I made my freshman year that I swore would be my friends for life. We kept in touch for a few years after college. Even went to see him every now and then when he was working in my state. Lost track of him a few years ago when he headed for law school.

I'm not sure what he's doing now but I think of him often. I remember of how he sent secret flowers to a friend of ours he was crazy about; I remember how he used to meet me for breakfast all tired after working a night shift; I remember the elaborate date he staged for a two month anniversary with his girlfriend; I remember the time we went to see Handel's Messiah performed at a little church in the middle of nowhere Virginia and there was an old man in the row in front of us wearing plaid, flannel pants and how we tried unsuccessfully not to laugh out loud; I remember learning to love old hymns with him and praying with him; worrying with him and laughing with him.

I'm praying for you Michael, wherever you might be.

Unstoppable clutter

2008-02-06T07:40:00.001-08:00

Growing up, my room was always a mess. Well, when my parents put me in charge of my laundry was when it got out of control. Piles of clothes, papers, books--cleaning out my clutter was always a monumental task.

As I've gotten older--I've gotten better. I do realize some of this improvement is due to the fact that since I moved out of my parents house, many of my belongings have stayed in storage boxes. But I do try to keep my living space--well liveable.

Since my last move, my bedroom is tiny. You neglect laundry in my room and suddenly you can't walk...so I've been pretty good for the last couple months. But then there was this space. It was actually my laundry basket. It was sitting empty, since I was using a hamper on the other side of the room. And it became a covenient depository for some papers I took out of something. And then the miscellaneous clothes that are not exactly dirty or clean got put on top. And since this pile of clutter was contained, I wasn't too worried..

And then it was laundry day, and I needed that basket, so I dumped the contents on the floor. And as I did so I knocked the stack of note cards off my bookshelf, and the stack of sweaters that stood orderly in their corner and now the nice neat pile of "to be gone through" stuff that was nicely contained.. is creeping around the end of my bed and encroaching on my already diminutive space.

And as I was kicking the unwanted items under the bed and out of my way this morning in my rush to get ready for work, I realized that my brain is often like my cluttered bedroom. I let one thought creep in. A not so good, self-pitying thought. And then I think of the events that caused that self pity to arise. And then the books I read and movies I watch spill on over, and before I know it,I'm knee deep in feeling blue and heart broken.

Clutter is a bad thing. In my little room..and in my little brain.

Hope and Strength

2008-02-01T10:10:00.000-08:00

I'm so glad God invented music. It's raining today. Completely gray, drenching, miserable rain. And I'm not seeing rainbows at all, as much as I need to be looking.

But a friend sent me the lyrics of this praise song. It's good that we can rely on the hope and strength of Someone who is always near...especially when we can't find hope or strength of our own.

You are my strength
Strength like no other
Strength like no other
Reaches to me

You are my hope
Hope like no other
Hope like no other
Reaches to me

In the fullness of Your grace
In the power of Your Name
You lift me up
You lift me up

Unfailing love
Stronger than mountains
Deeper than oceans
Reaches to me

Your love O Lord
Reaches to the heavens
Your faithfulness
Reaches to the skies

Stop the World I want to get off

2008-01-30T07:17:00.000-08:00

Some days I just wish I could stop the world. Don't get me wrong--I love life and everything. I just, I just want a break. I don't want to go to work, and I don't want do the dishes and I don't want to take the trash out. I just want to sleep. And sulk if I want to. And have choice words with God if I feel like it. And just take some time to get my head around the reality that is my life. I feel like my world changes so often and so fast that I spend my whole existence adjusting to the new state of things, only to have it change again just as I'm catching my breath.

The wind is whipping everything up today. Leaves, trash--I actually saw a beach ball blowing down a city street. The weather today is comforting to me--it seems to me that God is voicing my irritation with everything and that He's still there...and I know He only stirs up my life so I hold onto Him --our shelter in the storm. But sheesh... I'd run for cover in a light drizzle, wouldn't I? No need for a deluge.

Point of View

2008-01-28T10:27:00.000-08:00

I have a very distinct memory from when I was a child. I remember when I visited my dad, and he'd pick me up.. to show me something or hug me or whatever.. and I remember looking out over his living room and marveling of all he could see from there. The place looked so big! And much, much different than my usual vantage point, closer to the floor.

Now that I'm grown up, my eye level is almost the same height as my dad's. And I haven't gained much insight over the change of perspective...

But I was thinking about it the other day. And I thought, that I still can't see from my Heavenly Father's vantage point. He sees the whole picture and I can only see my little piece.. and until I'm with Him, I'm not going to see all He sees.

So I suppose the thing to do is to trust Him. That He sees more than I do...and that He'll reveal all in His time.

Saved from Vanity

2008-01-24T08:11:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, my supervisor made a silly suggestion. All three of us in the department own Aran sweaters. (you know those lovely, wooly beautiful sweaters from Ireland?) And we wear them on occasion. So he suggested that we all wear ours today for our office meeting.

Now as I was getting dressed this morning, I knew the chances of him going through with this were nil.. but I'd feel bad if he did actually make the effort to wear his and my other colleague did, and I didn't, so I decided to put it on.. except that it really only goes well with jeans. (my sweater happens to be navy and green) but I'm not really supposed to wear jeans to the office and with the meeting the boss would be around..so what's a girl to do?

Ah, this girl had the brilliant idea to wear a jean skirt! The only problem with that is that I wear my incredibly cute, not so comfortable boots with that skirt, and I do walk several blocks from the bus station to work. I debated this problem in my head for a little while, and decided to risk the health of my feet and wear the skirt and boots anyway. I might be uncomfortable, but wouldn't I look cute and very Irish?

So on went the boots..complete with tights.. and I was looking quite cute, warm and still in the dress code of the office.. and I was even just in time to catch the early bus, or so I thought. And as I walked out my door, I looked down to the street...only to watch the early bus roll on by. sigh.

So, I don't live very far from work, and I do own a car. But parking is a bit of a hassle and it's just easier to take the bus. But the next bus wasn't for another half hour or so. I debated.. drive, and be hassled with the parking...or wait and take the bus. I decided to wait. Took out my "on the bus" novel to read, and my "on the run" breakfast of peanut butter crackers, sat on my couch and waited.

And then it was time to bundle up again and catch that bus. Off I go, I even found a closer bus stop (only a block and half instead of two) And I cheerfully stood there, even as my feet in my extra cute boots were freezing. I prayed while I waited. And waited some more. I said hello to the passers by and I waited some more. Still that bus wasn't coming.

Twenty minutes after the bus was supposed to arrive, I decide to keep from being really really late, I'd drive. Which I could have done an hour beforehand, if I had only known the bus wasn't coming!!

And all I can think is that God appreciated my efforts to conform to the dress code, and didn't want me to pay for my vanity by having to walk the long city blocks in my cute boots. So I suppose I should be thankful. Even more thankfully, I got one of the only good parking spots to be had.

And they say God hasn't the time to take care of our small concerns!! I beg to differ.

Truth in Song

2008-01-22T13:19:00.000-08:00

I sang in our Christmas choir concert this past December. We sang some great carols, but my favorites by far were the pieces we sang from Handel's "Messiah". A friend recently reminded me to think of the lyrics we sang when I can't possibly see how God is going to bring about His glory in a particular situation..

AND THE GLORY, THE GLORY OF THE LORD WILL BE REVEALED
AND ALL FLESH SHALL SEE IT TOGETHER
FOR THE MOUTH OF THE LORD HAS SPOKEN IT.

He has spoken it.. so it really is already done. His glory will be revealed. And we're going to see it. Count on it!

Broken Things

2008-01-21T12:57:00.000-08:00

Before his message this week, my pastor had my friend Claire sing a song. It was to remind us that God can handle our past--He makes old things new. I cried, as I listened to these words because my heart has felt like this...

Broken Things

You can have my heart
Though it isn't new
It's been used and broken
And only comes in blue
It's been down a long road
And it got dirty on the way
If I give it to you will you make it clean
And wash the shame away

You can have my heart
If you don't mind broken things
You can have my life if you don't mind these tears
Well I heard that you make old things new
So I give these pieces all to you
If you want it you can have my heart

So beyond repair
Nothing I could do
I tried to fix it myself
But it was only worse when I got through
Then you walked into my darkness
And you speak words so sweet
And you hold me like a child
Till my frozen tears fall at your feet

You can have my heart
If you don't mind broken things
You can have my life if you don't mind these tears
Well I heard that you make old things new
So I give these pieces all to you
If you want it you can have my heart

BMG Songs Inc/Verdugo Music/Word Music(ASCAP)

May we learn to bring our broken hearts to the only one who can mend them.

(for the podcast of the sermon and the song go to www.gracechapelpa.org, click on Podcast, and Broken Things from 1/20/08)

Impact of a Life

2008-01-10T07:12:00.000-08:00

So, in my meanderings in history lately, I've been thinking about the impact of people--in a church, on a community or on a culture even.

Everyone has seen "It's a Wonderful Life", right? Where, George Bailey who thinks he has this small life in a small town realizes the impact he had by seeing the world as if he had never been born. It's full of good sappy lines, and it's Jimmy Stewart at his best, and if it isn't part of your holiday traditions yet, it should be.

Anyway, if the premise can be believed--that we have more impact than we think...then what are we doing with that potential? Are we impacting our world for good or ill?

I was also thinking of the fact that it's "Sanctity of Life Month" and we're nearing the anniversary of the passing of Roe vs. Wade. And I think.. what about all the potential that has been stifled since--the fact that half a generation has not been given the chance to live at all.. what kind of impact for good could they have had?

And I don't want to dwell on sad statistics, or make any kind of statement on hot issues. I just want to challenge those of us who have life. Those of us who have the resources to impact our world...

What are we doing with it? How will the world be different because we lived?

Thwarted

2008-01-08T06:15:00.000-08:00

So, I was blessed with a laptop over Christmas. It's a pretty little gadget, and if it allows me to get online in multiple places, it will make working from home a possibility...so I'm thankful. But the thinkpad is making me crazy.. the screen is so big and pretty, it reflects the whole room and paying for wireless is bleeding my bank account..especially at Starbucks where it's 10 bucks a day! unless you want to pay for a plan..and try filling in those forms with usernames and passwords with a thinkpad that likes to skip all over the screen..took me ten minutes to sign on today..

Okay.. I've vented. It is lovely sitting in a starbucks to check ones email before they head off to work..I'm out of the office today on a campus..so it may come in handy there too.
So.. even so.. I love it.

Furtile Field

2008-01-04T13:40:00.000-08:00

So not to harp on the history of my church some more--but I found out today that the guy who was the catalyst in starting the original Sunday School that became my church worked for the American Sunday School Union--which was sort of like a mission agency to reach all parts of America with educational materials and places to study them. They started in Philadelphia, and worked out from there--way back in 1817--starting Sunday schools and printing cirriculum to be taught in them. They were key in the spiritual recovery of our nation after the Civil War.

They had different campaigns to reach the whole country. But the funny thing is about the guy from Willow Grove, who ended up in Havertown--is that he was back at the beginning--back where the thing started, probably ten miles outside of Philly--almost a hundred years later. And they needed him. That stretch of countryside had no Sunday school to speak of.. so they formed one under his direction--and a church was organized 5 years later that still exists today.

So I suppose we should never think that a ministry is done--or an area covered when we're trying to reach the nations. We should follow God's leading, no matter how much we may want an exciting assignment. The people in our general vacinity need God's love just as much as the ones on the other side of the world--and vice versa. God loves everyone, and He leads in so many different ways.

And when we think about our roles in something keep in mind this transcription from the walls of Memorial Church at Stanford University---

The highest service may be prepared for and done in the humblest surroundings. In silence, in waiting, in obscure, unnoticed offices, in years of uneventful, unrecorded duties, the Son of God grew and waxed strong.

History of Grace

2008-01-03T13:30:00.000-08:00

I'm up to my elbows in the history of my local church. We're celebrating our 100th anniversary this year, and I love the story of how it formed. So many ways that God has used this church on the corner to impact the community that formed around it.

I'm trying to track down the turning point though. For a while it was this vital place--growing, instituting new outreaches, planting churches, having training programs and conferences...and then that stopped, because it couldn't have possibly kept the same growth and still be the size it is now.. so I'm wondering what happened..
I mean, it's growing again, we're coming back as it were, but what happened in the mean time?

And how much of what they did back then, could we do now? And what was it that was needed? organization? leadership? Is it just a different time? Different generation?

Fascinating stuff. To me, anyway. For those of you that it isn't.. you needn't read.

Potential of Paper

2008-01-02T13:17:00.000-08:00

You know how some people can't be trusted in a shoe store? or a store with lots of handbags? Well, one of my weaknesses is stationery stores (I also have an odd love of hardware stores, but that is a whole other story) I'm always buying blank books and notebooks. Blank paper just calls out to me.

But just think--all the great novels of the world that have ever been written--they all started with a bunch of blank paper! The latent potential of the unwritten page just beckons to me. One of the saddest things about not being in school anymore is the lack of new school supplies.

But it's a new year--with no mistakes in it yet, as Anne would say. A whole year of blank paper to write my story onto. Will it be a comedy this year? Or dare I wish, a romance? Or an enlightening tale of God's provision?

Well, I hope it's all of these things. The possibilities are endless..and I'm excited.

Auld Lang Syne

2008-01-01T13:28:00.000-08:00

Such a funny old fashioned phrase, and one we only think about this time of year..course most of us don't even know the words to the song as I realized last night, watching some fireworks with friends, cheering in the new year. But from what I have heard of the song, it's a time of looking back and being thankful for old friends.

And friends are really what we're here for, you know? Service, work, life in general--it's cliche to say it, but they don't mean a thing if you don't have people to share them with--people to laugh with you and at you when you need it, to encourage you and to tell you that everything is going to be okay, God is still in control and life is still is good even when we can't see how its so.

And if you have people like that in your life, then years like the one I just had.. they don't seem bad. They seem.. stretching, and surprising and blessed.

Happy New Year friends.. auld and new.

Holly and Jolly

2007-12-27T12:20:00.000-08:00

It's Christmas week and I'm trying to figure out why I'm at work when it seems almost everyone else is not.

Does it seem to anyone else that Christmas seems a bit anticlimatic? I mean, don't get me wrong... my holiday was happy. My parents spoiled me rotten and I enjoyed every minute of it, and the time off with them was a lovely little break.

But maybe it's the advertiser's fault, but sometimes I feel like all problems should be solved on Christmas, you know? Like.. with one gift or one party or one special holiday ritual--all will miraculously be well. That song that the radio plays.. "one day at Christmas" all will be well.

But I suppose, as usual my focus is in the wrong direction.
One day at Christmas, God sent His Son. One day at Christmas He made it so that we could know God. One day at Christmas, God so loved the world.

And one day at Christmas, He'll return.

Now that should make us jolly still.

Not Feeling Funny

2007-12-12T07:04:00.000-08:00

So I've always thought that I was pretty funny. I mean, not in a stand up comedic, I crack myself up kind of way--but I know that a lot of my friends find me amusing. And honestly, a lot of the time, I find myself amusing--and life, and God--it all makes me smile.

And then there are days that I just.. I don't feel funny. Or amusing, or lighthearted, or delighted, or any of those happy things. And then I think, what do I possibly have to give the world on a day like that? I've described this feeling before to friends as losing (or at least misplacing) my joy.

But I really think this is a matter of not refueling. The only way that I can share joy and love with others, is if I tap into the Source of joy and love--and have Him fill me up to overflowing. Otherwise, it's just scraping the bottom of the well.. a very dry, unfunny, lonely well.

New Apartment

2007-12-07T12:28:00.000-08:00

So before I begin, can I ask why the call them "apartments"? They're not "set apart" they're all bunched together...I think they should call them "compartments" because sometimes that's what they feel like...like those tiny nook and crannies in your car..mmm

Okay--so I moved. I moved across town to the street where my church is. I've been meaning to move for the last six years or so, it just never really worked out that I could.. and now I'm here. I'm not commuting a half hour to get everywhere, I'm close to work, to church to friends. I have arrived.

And of course, as in all cases when you feel that you have arrived.. the bottom is about to fall out.

Today, it was in the form of the very nice receptionist from the dentist office downstairs. I had just gotten out of the shower and I hear a soft dingdong and I grab my robe and head to the door only to find her friendly face there, and as I struggle to get the door unlocked and opened, she says.. that the shower is leaking into the office, and oh, so you're done with the water? well, yeah, now that I'm dripping all over the snow covered stoop...I am. Well, don't catch cold, she says, and say she'll call the landlord. Ten minutes later she's back (I'm still in my robe with slightly less wet hair) to tell me the plumber is coming on Tuesday.. could I not use that shower til then.. yeah, yeah...No one cares if I'm clean anyway.

And the boxes are beginning to clear out..but the odd thing about finally living where I always wanted to is that since "all my friends" live fairly close by, I guess I assumed that I was missing out on something living so far away, and the truth is, I wasn't. I mean, it's a nice neighborhood and everything, and I'm beginning to love the town...but it's going to take awhile before it's home.

Hope and Joy

2007-11-28T07:49:00.000-08:00

For the first time in three years, I am not working retail for the holiday season. I haven't had to look at Christmas merchandise since October. There aren't mobs of crazed shoppers demanding that I find the perfect gift book for their dad's brother's kid's next door neighbor. I am free of the grudging dread I feel as I see the mobs start descending.

So what is this season supposed to be, if it's not a frenzied free for all at the mall? I was challenged at church last week to not let my holiday get as crazy and frenzied and busy as the rest of the world. I should use this time to slow down and reflect and take time out for the poor. And as I contemplated what I could do differently, I realized that the church calendar provides a season for reflection before Christmas. Something that as a nondenominational church, ours seems to have forgotten. It's something called Advent.

My mother's church has an advent wreath, and lit a candle each week before Christmas, but I never really sensed what it all was about. But it's more about hope--looking with hope toward God for our salvation. Like Israel did for centuries, waiting for their Messiah. It is also a time of expectancy.. when we can look with hope again, toward the second advent of our King.

So let us not look at the coming season with dread--but hope and joy. Joy that God does provide a way of salvation for His people, and hope that He is coming again to take us home.

Why don't we believe Him?

2007-11-14T17:57:00.000-08:00

So God tells me that I am loved. That He has my best interests at heart. That He loves me so much that He sent His son to die for me. And nothing I can do can change that. I am enough for that kind of sacrifice just by my own little, lonesome, sinful self.

So, why don't I believe it?

Why are the other voices that I hear louder than the voice of the God of the universe? The voices on the TV that say until we have the latest thing, we aren't quite complete...the romantic movie that says we have to find our other half to be whole...the bank account that echoes with the hopes of "when I arrive".

And what about the dearer voices? What about the father who said with his absence that there wasn't anything interesting enough to keep him around? The guys who don't feel the same way, the bosses who downsize with no explanation

...and still others who leave only pain and feelings of worthlessness by abusing what does not belong to them.

And then there's the corroborating witnesses in our heads--the ones who keep convincing us that our sad conclusions are true. We are worthless, deserving of only small, mediocre, unsung lives.

Why are those voices so loud? Why do we believe "them"? Why is God's voice so quiet in comparison? Is He even there?

We know the answer is yes, right? Tozer says of God, "He is nearer than our own soul, closer than our most secret thoughts". Maybe the reason He doesn't shout is because he doesn't have to. He's so close, He needs only to whisper. We simply need to be quiet enough to hear Him.

So please.. would the world and the voices in my head--please shut up? I'm listening for the voice of the Almighty. To tell me I'm loved, to tell me that I am worthy because my worth is in Him. To tell me I'm safe from the howling storm that is the world and the voices that scream in the winds.

Faith and Foolhardiness continued

2007-11-05T10:10:00.001-08:00

So I've been thinking about Kierkegaard again. And what I've come up with is this. I'm not sure I buy into the whole--believing in the absurd. Because, like I said, if you don't have the promise of God to cling to, then there's no guaruntees about what you're holding on to.

But we can believe that God is good and in control. And that if He asks us to do something we don't understand, we can trust that he knows what he's doing and obedience is still the best answer. We can trust that he's still looking out for our good and loves us and wants to bless us with the desires of our hearts. And that's even when the road seems dark and the son of promise is on the altar. I think this absurd faith Kierkegaard speaks of is still believing that God wants life to be abundant-- that he has a plan for us to give us a future and a hope--it's believing the promises are true, even when all immediate evidence would tell us otherwise. It's knowing God, and acting according to his nature and his love and not according to the circumstances of a moment.

Fuzzy thoughts

2007-11-01T13:33:00.000-07:00

So it's a new month. And I have acquired a new head cold. And I don't want to do anything. Not that I was a blurr of activity before the cold hit. But now.. I just want to curl up under the covers and tell the world to go away and stop pounding my poor head.

In other news, it's finally feeling like fall. I get so excited when the seasons turn. Finally I can wear long sleeves and jackets. The air is crisp, the sky clear. And then, the clouds roll in and the damp settles into your bones and I'm counting the days until spring.

BUT, I think that's my cold talking. Because like a friend likes to remind me, rain makes the flowers grow...and through the drear is when we see rainbows best.

Radio racing

2007-10-11T07:54:00.001-07:00

So this morning, on my way to work... I had the radio on. Now, as a rule, I don't like morning shows. Radio is for music, and talking on the radio is just annoying. Anyway, this particular morning show is not usually too annoying and they were playing a game called "my three songs" where they play three songs with a common link and you have to figure out what it is. I heard the first two, and I thought I knew what it was.. and when they played the third.. I knew I was right, so I tried to call (besides, the prize was Flyers tickets and I have a friend who's a huge fan). Busy signal.. busy signal.. I guess I won't get through...I'll call one more time... and it rang!! and they asked me my answer and...

It was wrong. They said to keep trying... but I'm easily pleased, I felt important just for getting through.

To my sister

2007-10-07T11:12:00.000-07:00

Dear Alleta,

It's hard to believe that it's been ten years--Since I saw your smile, since I heard your voice. Seems just last week when we were laughing uncontrollably on our back deck, and saying hi to the boys on the strip.

You would've turned thirty this year...hard to believe. I always think of you as that carefree teenager I first saw dancing to the oldies, and coloring in the car on our way to Florida. It would have been nice to know you as an adult...I often wonder what you would think if you could see my life now.

Most of all, I wish I had the chance to know you as a child of God. I always like to think that you would encourage me to walk by faith and not take things too seriously...that much you taught me even in the last few months of your life.

I miss you. I miss having a sister. I was thinking today of what you must be doing now. I know you're beautiful once again, and probably get into mischief even in paradise. And I know you're dancing. Dancing before the One who must still have some work for me to do here.

Save me a dance, Alley. I love you.

Rainbow Weather

2007-10-04T19:45:00.001-07:00

I was driving home today and I saw a little rainbow piece hanging by itself in the sky.

My favorite kind of weather (even better than 72 and perfect) is rainbow weather. You know those days. The sky is cloudy, some gray, some white, fluffy and rolling, usually moving swiftly, with little bits of blue, and sunshine peeking through. It's always bad when I'm driving on those days. I'm constantly on the lookout for rainbows...

I don't want to offend those who like science a whole lot, but I've never been real satisfied with the scientific explanation for rainbows. I still take them as signs from God--that He's there, even when I can't see His face, or, in cases like today, that He still has a few surprises in store even when I think I've got it together.

So, when things look bad. Your days are gray, and you can't really see God's face---keep a look out. It's through tears that the laughter is sweetest and only with a good cloudy day can God show His colors of promise..

Faith and Foolhardiness

2007-10-04T10:04:00.000-07:00

So don't ask me why, but I've been reading Kierkegaard's Fear and Trembling. And with much high falutent language he says that Abraham's faith when he was asked to sacrifice Isaac (Genesis 22) was truly exceptional because Abraham believed the absurd. He believed that even though God asked him to give up his son, that God would still find a way to restore Isaac to him. God's promise would stand.

Kierkegaard goes on to say that there's a difference between infinite resignation, and true faith. Resignation is what a lot of people see as faith. They see a situation and see the impossibility of it, they face the pain and press on, knowing God is all loving and knows best. They see eternity as when they will find happiness. He asserts, though, that faith goes one step further. Faith faces the impossibility of a situation, knows for a fact that it can not happen, and then trusts God to do it anyway--even if all forms of human logic make it seem that it just can not happen. Faith looks for God's provision in this life.

I suppose the truth of this assertion would be dependent on what the situation is. I mean, Abraham was depending on the promise of God. That's a pretty reliable plan. If we're simply looking at our own hopes and dreams and just seeing that they aren't unfolding and yet believe with all out might that God will do it. Isn't that just foolhardiness? Blind optimism? I can't really get my head around that being faith. I'm going to rassle with this some more and get back to you.

Future Police Officer

2007-09-27T14:18:00.001-07:00

Must share this report from my brother on vacation. He has twin boys that are almost four. He and his wife and the boys are all visiting my father down in Virginia.

They arrived at their hotel and found that the place provided valet parking. So they relinquished their vehicle and went inside to check in. Apparently, the window in their room looks out on the parking garage, where all the cars are parked. Little Jacob looks out the window and sees his car being driven over in this garage. He says, "someone stole our car!!"

And for anyone who doubts a four year old's memory, an hour or so later, when they reached the lobby on their way out to dinner, Jacob spots the valet and in his loudest voice in the middle of the lobby he says, "Hey, that's the man who stole our car!!"

Fortunately, he was a good sort and just laughed, as did everyone else within shouting distance.

Miss Graceful

2007-09-27T14:06:00.000-07:00

So I was walking down the stairs at my church, talking and laughing with some friends, and suddenly, my feet don't work and I'm trying to stay upright...I had missed the last step before the landing, and landed on the side of my foot. I was hoping this was like every other ungraceful decent I've made down the stairs, and tried to walk as usual.

No such luck. My foot hurt with every step. Under friendly advice, I went home and put ice on it. It turned greenish blue, and swollen. So..I went to the doctor, only to have her say.. wrap it and ice it and go get an x-ray. And the x-rays are negative so I've got a sprain on my hands (uh, I mean my foot) though not my ankle apparently, but the inner joints of my foot which are used with each and every step.

And if I didn't feel silly, and clutzy enough for doing this in the first place--you should see the progress I make on crutches! And the colors my foot is turning, ah.. well.. it's like a rainbow...

Grrr. why is getting hurt so dang inconvenient??

Ready or not

2007-09-10T11:27:00.000-07:00

This weekend I went to a wedding at my church. The groom is only about seven years younger than me, but when I started attending, he was sixteen. Now he’s out of college and an actual adult and getting married to a beautiful girl and I’m thinking in my head—he can’t possibly get married! He’s just a kid.

And my cynical self turns to me and says, well, you’re just bitter because he’s getting married and you’re not. And I suppose part of that might be true, but there’s more to it than that. It’s not just that he’s getting married and I want to…it’s just that getting married seems like an awful grown-up thing to do. Like, you really should have most of your life and identity together before you go and attempt to link it with someone else’s.

Maybe it’s his maturity level that I envy. Because most days, I can’t possibly convince myself that I am any where near ready to be where I am in life, let alone where I want to be.

But are you ever really ready? Isn’t every step of the journey a leap of faith? I mean, some days it takes faith to take that first step out of bed. It sure would take a whole lot of faith to step into marriage.

Maybe that’s the key. I feel overwhelmed when I think I need to do everything or have everything figured out. Maybe maturity comes from knowing for sure that I don’t know anything for sure, except that I don’t have it together, or “what it takes” and probably never will---but having the faith that God will show me each step when I need to know and give me the grace and courage to follow Him, wherever that may lead.

And ready or not, life is a leap. So may the Lord increase our faith.

Just Because

2007-09-07T07:25:00.000-07:00

Here I am again, with lots to say. But before I do, as way of transition, I'd like to post a poem about someone who I still like to think of as a friend, and Someone I should remember is always my Best Friend.

Because of him I drink coffee more than tea,
Because of him Hannah and Jayber are friends to me.
Because of him St. Augustine quotes make me glad,
Because of him questions about God are never bad.
Because of him I cherish my family more,
Because of him I shy away from friends that bore.

But because of him, my heart was sore.

But because of Him, I am on the mend,
Because of Him the road had a bend.
Because of Him I’m not walking by sight
Because of Him my burden is light.
Because of Him I can sing
Because of Him I can do all things.

Because He gave me everything.

Here's to depending on the One who will never let us down.

Words and pictures

2007-06-28T20:07:00.000-07:00

Recently I had a friend save all the information from my old computer on to this one, and just now have had a chance to read some of the material. About five years ago, I apparently had taken to writing a legacy for any future generations who cared to see what it was like to be me. Let me tell you, it must have been a lot easier to be me then than it is to be me now.. because I was a lot smarter! The wisdom I found in these lines would astound you. I had no doubt of God having a plan. I thought that if things weren't "the way they were supposed to be" then God had something greater in mind. I was firmly convinced.

How was my younger self so much smarter than my older self? Is it merely a matter of my older self feeling jaded? Tossed around a little too often by this plan God has for my life? Have I simply lost sight of that assurance that used to come so easily? What has so complicated my life that I've lost my grip of that most important thing?

Maybe I was just writing for posterity. I wanted to sound like I had used my lessons to become a better person, a better Christian, so future generations could do the same--but it doesn't really give an accurate picture of my heart when I wrote it.

Maybe I was just better at lying to myself back then.

On a similar note I've also been thinking about photographs. I've been feeling a bit blue and unsure of myself lately. So I thought I'd cheer myself up by making a sort of "I'm pretty blessed" encouragement collage for myself. I raided my picture collection and took all the pictures I found of me and people and me being silly and pictures of family and fun times, and I stuck them to my wall.. there must be over a hundred at least (so I have too much time on my hands...sue me)and it takes up most of my bedroom wall. But it makes me smile, so it has served its purpose.

It also makes me realize why some people don't like pictures very much. We always smile for pictures. In almost every one of those pictures (the ones I like, anyway, and therefore the ones I chose) I'm smiling, with very few exceptions. And though my life has been good, it's not always been happy. So those pictures, like my wisdom for posterity, are a very unrealistic picture of the way things were.

So here's to honesty...in word, deed and pictures.

But I think I like the pictures anyway. I like to think that God gives us reasons to smile, laugh and have a good time even amidst sadness, confusion and pain. And if the joy is what we remember and commemorate--then God has fulfilled that promise of bringing everything to our good.

And if God can use my own words to encourage me, then think of what other creative twists he may have in store.

Same Old Me

2007-06-21T19:37:00.000-07:00

I am aware that my previous post seemed to suggest that I'm entirely new, and my perspective of the world has been altered...but of my life? Why isn't it easy to keep our focus off of ourselves when we're immersed in our own little worlds? Why do my small problems still creep up on me, frustrate me, and drain my mental and spiritual resources? Why can't I keep the big picture in mind, and remember that though I may have frustrations, they are small in the grand scheme of things?

Because I'm human, I suppose. And no matter where I go, no matter what my good intentions are, I'm still stuck with me. Even relying on God to do the work, it seems I'm always the little kid in the workshop, getting her hands in the way of what her Father is doing. Does anybody else wish He'd tell us what He's doing, so we'd know? So we'd relax.. I feel like I keep saying.."Watcha doin?" and He won't tell me so I keep putting my nose into what he's doing, getting in the way. He can't just give me a hint of what it may look like when He's done?

Why is it so hard to trust that what He's doing is for His glory and my good? Why can't I take Him at His word? Maybe I should spend some time reading His word to remind myself of His intentions.

Wind of change

2007-06-14T10:55:00.000-07:00

So, yes, i don't like change. But sometimes change is good. Change of perspective, change of priority--change of horizon... So be prepared. I'm changing as you read this. I just came back from the Domincan Republic.. and there, well, they need change.

I went to the DR with my church to work with an organization called Kids Alive International. We worked with them building some bathrooms onto a school, and we played a lot of wiffle ball with some beautiful kids. These children live in such poverty, with barely enough food to stay alive each day, the bare minimum of everything--and yet...they give their love freely. They grab your hand as you walk through their village. They walk up and hug you for no reason at all except that you're there and you smiled at them. They play just like any other kids and it breaks your heart because you know where they're going to go home to after they leave you playing in a field...and there's nothing it seems we can do.

But Kids Alive gives them hope. They run care centers, which gives the kids a full meal each day and Bible classes and a good education. They also run orphanages to take kids out of the most desperate of circumstances---children left to fend for themselves, children abused, children locked away from the world. They take them out of those nightmares and place them into loving Christian homes--where they have Christian parents and an environment that encourages them to grow up to serve Christ.

It's an amazing idea. They're amazing kids, and there are amazing opportunities to serve in this small Caribbean country. I'll write more later, but be prepared.. I am not the same as I once was. These kids...they followed me home.

Ray of Sunshine

2007-04-21T21:01:00.000-07:00

Have you ever met someone who is just a ray of light into your life? There's a girl at my church. I've known her since she was in middle school. She sings beautifully. And she's always been cute and funny and popular and everything I wasn't in high school--and only on my good days since. She's in college now, and I've gotten to know her better. She really is as good as she seems. Unfailingly smiling, sweet, enthusiastic and really focused on what God is doing--in her and through her. She sings at venues throughout the surrounding area. And her music.. it never fails to encourage me to look toward God, not to settle for less than His best--to press on even when we can't see the way, because we know Who does.

So thanks to Claire, for her joy and for still being everything I want to be. But more than anything, for giving me a happy song.

Hairapy

2007-04-20T20:34:00.000-07:00

And now for a little distraction...

I've inherited much of my hair's personality from my mother. A little unruly.. a lot dry..a bit of frizz. I don't have a "bad hair day". I have a "good hair day" and then every other day is a matter of trying to recreate conditions to have another good one... with very little success.

This sad fact has come to my attention because today happens to be an excellent hair day. My hair dried perfect.. it's soft, shiny.. and is laying down like it's supposed to. A perfect hair day. WOW. And what was my most excellent plans for this evening.. hot date? Photo shoot? Some gala affair where perfect hair is a prerequisite for entrance?

Alas.. it was me in the laundry room for most of the evening and grabbing a bite to eat with my one of my bestest friends, attired in my laundry pants.

Sigh...God's time is an amazing thing, isn't it?

Ok.. that's it. No more posts about my hair. I promise.

Ache of Sorrow

2007-04-18T15:45:00.000-07:00

So, it happened in a small mountain town in Virginia instead of in New York City on TV. It happened to college students and professors instead of average office workers and plane passengers going about their business. It happened because of one troubled young man with a gun, instead of an organized plot by a terrorist group.

And yet, the recent tragedy at Virginia Tech has troubled my heart even more than that horrific Tuesday morning in September in 2001. I think it's because I went to school in a small mountain town in Virginia. I was an RA. I was an English major. My greatest friends were at college. Outside my family, my professors were my first mentors.

And even now, I work with college students at church. One of my closest friends teaches at a university. And every time the news shows the pictures of those who were killed, I see those kids, that friend. It could've been any one of them. My heart aches, with sadness, and with thankfulness that mine were not involved.

And compared to the parents who sent their kids to school, only to have them never come home; compared to the classmates and roommates and friends of those lost; compared to all of those waiting for those smiling faces to return---my ache is so incredibly minor.

As we all grieve, I pray that we hold our loved ones closer, and keep those most affected in most fervent prayer. And to all the college students out there who feel a little unsteady since Monday--hang on to God. He'll uphold you. And to those at Virginia Tech--may you know God's peace and the comfort of His love.

Brave and new

2007-04-14T21:07:00.000-07:00

I am so not brave. I pick the same thing at my favorite restaurants every time I go. I've never had my ears pierced. I don't go anywhere without a sweater.

I'm not afraid of normal things. Heights are not a problem...spiders don't freak me out...I can even clean the bathroom without rubber gloves...but bobble-head dolls? They are creepy.

But do you know what has always scared me the most? Change. I kept my first cell phone for five years. Shoes are sitting in my closet from high school...

And growing up? I've never wanted to be a grown-up. Not in the sense of I never wanted grown-up responsibilities, but I didn't want anything to change. Everything wasn't always good--far from it--but I wanted what I knew. The unknown is so scary.

But what I've been learning, is that I don't know anything. And if I stick to what I know, I'm going to have a very small life. Not only that, but change is the one thing that you can count on in this life--so we must face it. As much as I hate to admit that, hiding hasn't exactly been working.

So what do we do--when we long for consistency in a world that is always changing? We take God at His word and know He's the same yesterday, today and forever. Good to know some things, well... one thing... doesn't change.

Brown Sugar

2007-03-12T19:40:00.000-07:00

It started a few years ago. Every now and then, I'd find one. I'd groan, get rid of it and move on. And then, this year, they started showing up three at a time. Pretty soon, there was no hope to simply shed them--they had to be conquered.

Yes, that's right. My hair has decided to change color all on it's own. But instead of the soft brown with the occasional red highlight, that all the other hairs on my head have been for the last twenty odd years, these pesky ones on the top of my head prefer a more snowy shade--much like the one found on my mother's head, and as much as I love my mother, well, let's just say I'm too young to look like her in this particular way. Something had to be done.

But where to start?The multitudes of boxes stared at me from the shelves of the store. It couldn't possibly be plain brown...not my head o' hair. But plain brown wasn't even an option--there's just "carmel mocha" and "almond cappacino" and then there it was..."Brown sugar". Or in layman's terms "Light Golden Brown"...a perfect match. I marched my way to the check out sure that no one would ever know--it was my natural hair color only in a box. Or was it? The smiling woman on the package just beamed with confidence but I wasn't so sure she could be trusted. My roommate assured me that people do this all the time.. so I let her put the sticky, smelly stuff on my head.. and waited until the minutes ticked away...then it was shower time. And all the brown went down the drain, and it dried--it looked the same--hurray!

But as it dried.. it got lighter, and redder. and now I can tell I dyed my hair and I don't like the fact--not with my allergy to change. I suppose once I get used to this, it'lll grow out and cause me panic again. Sigh.

Shower of Flowers

2007-03-10T19:52:00.000-08:00

I like giving flowers. Now don't get me wrong I like getting them too. But the reaction to flowers is almost unfailingly positve, so I don't like to wait on the thoughtfulness of others. And giving flowers for no reason at all, just to say "cheer up" or "surprise" or "glad you're you" does something good for my soul--one of those mysterious 'giving is better than receiving' sort of things no doubt. Today, it was "happy spring"--it's still March and there's still some very ugly snow on the ground, but you can almost taste it on the breeze and the temp is up to 50 degrees--and though they don't last forever, flowers always make me smile, and everyone could use a few more smiles--and so I bought flowers and gave them to a few friends. If gift giving is ever a selfish thing to do, then I'm guilty today, because I felt so good dropping them off.

And why is it that girls are the only ones who ever get flowers? It seems that some girls acutally need to have flowers sent to them on all special occasions. How often do you hear about a boy getting flowers sent to him, aside from a death in the family? Never. And really, there's no reason for this, flowers are just God's gift to cheer one when one is down... or to say "I appreciate you" in a demonstrative way. And men can appreciate beauty, and a little color. And have you seen most guy's apartments? Not usually the most cheery places on the planet.

So send the boys flowers! and boys, appreciate the gesture, and the beauty and color of the flowers and of the one who sent them.

Peace on Earth

2007-03-07T14:30:00.000-08:00

So why did I decide that all had to be well for me to be well? TV tells us that we must be happy and if we're not happy we must get happy. Unless you live in denial, life is not always happy--not even mostly.

But God doesn't promise happiness. He promises He'll be there when life isn't all you want it to be. He promises He'll stay the same when everything else changes. He promises to stay in when every other friend walks out. And when I concentrate on that, there's something better than happiness-- there's peace...and hope, that life may be happy yet.

Finding a friend

2007-02-27T21:10:00.000-08:00

I'ts always a great thing to find a friend. Finding someone that you don't have to explain yourself to because they already know you.

Why am I surprised to find a friend in my mother? Is it just trying to live on my own that has made me hesitant to ask for her advice and to go to her for comfort? She gives her "motherly advice" on a regular basis... but I found today that she may be the one person that understands some of my moods, because she deals with the same ones. And somehow instead of that scaring me that I'm "like my mother", it comforts me that I have someone to talk to who understands exactly where I'm coming from.

Waiting room

2007-02-21T13:09:00.000-08:00

We're all waiting. As kids, we wait until we're grownups; in high school we're waiting for college; in college, we're waiting for graduation--and then we start waiting again. Waiting for that perfect job offer, waiting for that guy to call, waiting for the next step to be clear so our lives can begin, because that next step will be the one that makes everything fall into place. But what about the meantime? What about this waiting area that we can't find our ways out of?

What if the next step is to enjoy where we are? No matter where it is. Maybe if we take each day as it comes, then it won't seem like we're waiting at all. Like when we take a good book to the doctor's office and we don't notice that it takes an hour for them to call our name. Cliches are running through my brain about watching pots boil, but it's true. Talk to a friend while cooking if you don't believe me.. instead of checking the water five times to see if it's rolling yet, or flipping batter all over the griddle instead of a pancake.. you'll be dealing with water all over your stove and bisquick hockey pucks because time will pass faster.

So until the next big thing, I'm going to enjoy all the little things in this waiting room, and see how fast the time goes...