A Series of Divinely Ordained Random Occurances

the return

2009-07-11T12:38:00.002-04:00

I'm tired of apologizing on my blog all the time about the infrequency of my posts of late. So no apology will appear this time. In it's stead, let it just be said that pregnancy is difficult and exhausting, and that this has now been one of the fastest summers I have ever seen.

I can't believe that July is already almost halfway done! May went by like a flash, with a week of RUF Summer Camp in northern Pennsylvania (beautiful country, near the NY border), a rushed 4 days back at home to unpack, do laundry, and repack, and then 2 weeks of vacation in North Myrtle Beach. The waves and the sand were exactly what Hubs and I (and Murry) needed to relax from the long year before.

June ushered in another busy time, the first week spent getting our guest bedroom arranged and ready for guests, painting our master bedroom, and sundry other details in preparation for parental visits. Hubs' parents came the second week of June, and my parents came the 4th week. We greatly enjoyed both visits, and enjoyed showing off our little house and little town.

Last Wednesday, Hubs completed his written exams for ordination, a process which has been going on for a year but which will finally be completed by the end of the month! We look forward to him not having to study for those exams any more, especially once our little girl makes her appearance around mid-September.

Speaking of, I'm now 31 weeks! Next week I officially start the eighth month of pregnancy... I can't believe how fast this baby has grown. The nursery is beginning to come together, crib and changing table are in place, my mom is working sweetly on baby girl's little bumper pad, sheets, and blanket for her little baby bed, and the walls are ready for us to paint in early August.

Hubs and I have been enjoying Lamaze for the past 3 weeks, next Thursday is our last session. Supposedly after that we'll know everything we need to know to have this baby! I'm getting really excited and antsy just to have her here. I'm so ready to see that sweet little face and kiss those precious cheeks. And I'm gearing up for the sleepless nights and countless loads of laundry.

So that's really the recap of everything that's gone on for the last few months, I still have great visions of blogging often and chronicling this time in our lives... Lord willing I'll be able to discipline myself better and find the time in my days to make this a priority.

Soon!

fearfully and wonderfully made...

2009-03-26T13:21:00.002-04:00

So I sit here grasping for creative juices to write a column for Hubs' supervisor's newsletter (I know, right?). The cloudy weather outside has left me feeling a little cold and achy, just because it looks cold. It's not really, but atmosphere has a lot to do with mood.

The last couple of weeks I have been really sore and achy, especially in the abdominal regions. This baby is beginning to grow and stretch his or her limbs, the result of which has caused me to feel more tired and just sore from all the muscles and stuff rearranging to make room for baby. I'll be at 16 weeks tomorrow, four months pregnant and starting to feel little kicks and taps as baby feels its way around in the dark. And I've been reading and looking at pictures at the development of this little munchkin, amazed at how intricate and awesome this whole process is. At just 5 inches long, our little one already has eyebrows and can suck its thumb. On all ten tiny little fingers... there are fingerprints taking shape. Honestly, I feel awed and privileged that God is using my body to create such an amazing little human being. In just 6 short months I'll be holding this child in my arms for the first time, cuddling its warm little body and memorizing each beautiful feature. I'm excited to see what the Lord has made in my body.

It really brings to mind Psalm 139 where David exclaims that he was "knit together" in his mother's womb, being "fearfully and wonderfully made..." We are, each of us. Intricately woven to look just like we should by the Creator of the universe. It's an awesome process.

for Steph

2009-03-20T12:36:00.002-04:00

I do realize that I have been long absent from my blog and my adoring readers. I apologize... with a confession. Lately I have just felt very low on creative juices. It's just one of those times when it seems that nothing in my brain is really flowing correctly. For those who don't know, I'm very busy lately growing a little baby in my belly. But little baby has also been making me mega sick. Something about 24 hour nausea and frequent vomiting and headaches and heartburn seem to steal the creativy energy... in fact, all my energy. However recently there has been a decrease in the sickness, and today I'm propped up at the kitchen table with a pouch of Capri Sun and a bowl of applesauce, good to go.

Currently in the background I have my new favorite song on repeat: Carrie Underwood's remake of I Told You So, featuring the original songwriter/singer, Randy Travis (who also happens to be one of my childhood heroes). My love for Randy Travis originally made me sceptical of this pretty young thing coming in and doing a redo of my hero's song. But it's beautiful. And she included Randy, which makes me really happy. Download it, your ears will be glad you did.

Also, I must let you know that it is currently snowing outside my window. Snowing. It's March 20. Yet there are big flakes falling out there. I love snow, but I'm a little ready for some spring. Not much, just a little. Is that too much to ask? Just a little bit of sunshine and flowers blooming and pretty green leaves and birdies singing in the trees... I know it will come. Someday.

Ok, my creative juices are running out again, and I need to save some juice for my next post, which, I promise will be sooner rather than later. Until then, hang in there!

life happens fast

2009-01-12T17:33:00.003-05:00

It occurred to me as I was sitting on flight # something or other on the way from DFW to Philadelphia that I hadn't blogged in, like, three weeks. So I did what any self-respecting traveler would do. I waited a week longer and then sat down in front of the keys.

This past month has flown by. Hubs' training, fundraising, family time, craziness introducing Murry to a bunch of people and new situations (some he liked more than others... namely, my Mom, sister, and Hubs' Dad). He also enjoyed chasing my nieces around the living room, especially cute was the youngest, all of 17 months old, following Murry around with her little finger waggling in the air yelling, "Sit, Murry, sit!"

Christmas itself brought fun and laughter and lots of tattered wrapping paper and a new set of luggage from Hubs' parents in which we could tote home all of the spoils of the holidays. We checked three bags that eeked by on the weight limit (in fact, we had to transfer a pound from one suitcase into another right there in line... the people behind us loved that). Carried on the two smaller suitcases, as well as Hubs' backpack and Murry. It was a crazy sight as we meandered our way through two airports with dog in a bag on my shoulder and pulling two suitcases stacked together, Hubs toting his backpack and pulling three suitcases stacked together. Needless to say, we had an interesting time. But we got home really without a hitch (I was dreading security with dog and three carry-ons, but we breezed through), somehow got all of that luggage in Hans' Honda (I swear the trunk was dragging all the way down the tollway, though ;-), and made it to our cold but wonderful house. I don't think I've ever been so happy to see our house. Murry went nuts, running to all of his favorite spots and then checking his food and water bowl, disappointed that they had been emptied before the trip (I have this thing about not attracting bugs and small rodents to my kitchen. I like my kitchen vermin free!).

We spent this last week resting from the trip and enjoying our Christmas decorations, which I put up the day after Thanksgiving. We won't be taking down the Christmas stuff for another couple of weeks, we're determined to get the enjoyment out of them that we missed while in Texas. It's been great. Also great? The four inches of snow that's all over the place. Makes our Christmas decorations seem just that much more appropriate.

Tonight we have small group as soon as Hubs makes it home from a back to school event on campus. Until next time, stay warm!

on the road again

2008-12-11T11:36:00.002-05:00

It seems like much of my year has been consumed with travel. In fact, I counted on the flight out of Philadelphia that I had been on 9 airlplanes this year, and it will be a perfect 10 on the flight back. I'm really ready to land somewhere. But the trips are necessary, and some even fun. Hubs and the puppy and I flew out on Saturday for Texas, where we will be spending time with family and fundraising for the ministry.

Hubs is currently at a week of training in Dallas, while Murry and I are hanging out with my family. Murry's getting his first exposure to kids, and he's loving their energy. Playing with kids seems to be what he's born for, they're so much more exciting than us! He's also a little less excited about getting to know my parents' standard poodle and german shorthaired pointer, though. He thinks they're a little big for his taste.

Blogging will be sporadic, at best, since we will be in and out of people's houses for the break. But I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season, and I will post as I can.

ahem....

2008-11-18T13:01:00.003-05:00

Dear Sweet Pennsylvania Neighbors of Mine,

(Especially those eight houses who can see into my backyard).

I must offer my apologies for what you saw if you were looking out your windows at approximately 12:30 pm this afternoon. That girl that ran out of our back door in her flannel pajama bottoms, ratty t-shirt, barefoot with hair frizzy and messy, white dish towel in one hand and soapy dishwater dripping from the other... yes. That was me.

While that is a very disturbing sight in and of itself, it must have become even more traumatic when that apparition began leaping up and down in the frozen grass screaming, "It's snowing! It's snowing!" - especially considering the sparseness of the flurries that were swirling down for only a few minutes.

I could offer you endless excuses about how I have been snow deprived from my youth or how snow is my favorite weather phenomenon ever, but something tells me that by now your opinions of me are already formed and nothing I could say would ever erase the disturbing images from your mind's eye.

For the haunting scene that will be forever emblazened upon your memory, I am truly sorry. But I must warn you, in the future when you see snow falling gently outside your window, resist the urge to look into the backyard... because what you saw this afternoon is quite likely to occur again soon.

Sincerely,

Your crazy new neighbor from Texas

rainy day blues

2008-11-15T11:44:00.009-05:00

Since I'm a little depressed and bored with all the rain and wetness, I thought I'd post a few pictures of things up here for your enjoyment. It's been far too long since I've posted pictures, so here goes.

The gorgeouse fall colors out my kitchen window. This is what I see while I'm doing dishes every day.

More fall colors, this time on the campus.

Handsome Murry.

My newly organized mudroom.

So there is a little snippet of life up here in the Northeast... Beautiful colors, puppies, and organization. And rainbows and babies. And unicorns.

And the sun! Which just peeked through my kitchen window! Miracle of miracles... Now I must go frolic.

has it really been a month?

2008-11-15T10:02:00.002-05:00

So many thoughts, so many good ideas for blog posts, they've all been wasted (or chronicled in other ways) these past four weeks. I'm ready for my computer back. Since Hubs' laptop has "issues" right now, my happy little laptop companion has been given over to the office. And I rarely see it anymore. Someday we will reconcile with Hubs' fixable laptop, and I'll be back to my old posting self... in the meantime, I'm restricted to smaller, more infrequent portions of time.

It feels good to be here right now, though, having slipped from the office with the laptop and now sitting at the kitchen table wearing my big green sweater, pup snuggled happily in my lap, cup of caffeinated hot cocoa (we're out of coffee) at my right hand - the perfect combat for the cold, pouring down rain that taps at my window. Hubs is at presbytery all day today, luckily it's close by this month so he didn't have to drive far in the cold and stormy weather. The forecast calls for the weather to drop even more today (this rain is ushering in a front), and the snow starts tomorrow, Monday, and Tuesday. It's just a chance all three of those days, but it will definitely be cold enough. I'm excited, yet a little nervous about the first snow of the season. We could have a white Thanksgiving this year, which would be awesome if a little weird.

There is so much to catch up on, like the victory I achieved when I finished clearing out all of the boxes from the mudroom and finally converted that room into useable space... thus finishing all of the unpacking and settling in for the whole house except for Hubs' office, which is a project all in itself. It finally is beginning to feel like we live here. I finished that project just in time, too, as it is quickly becoming very uncomfortable to do much work in the mudroom because it's not heated and working in a coat is just no fun at all.

I found the first pomegranates of the season at the grocery store last week, Hubs and I have been enjoying our fill. They taste so wonderful, and we always feel healthier as we eat our antioxidants. We ate so many pomegranates last year that I wondered if you split either of us open if a ton of little seeds would come out. (I know, a little gross and graphic, but you get what I'm saying).

I just realized that the structure of that last sentence was not grammatically correct, but I'm not going to change it.

Thanksgiving is going to be an adventure this year, it will be our first Thanksgiving without either of our families. Hubs has been in charge of thinking about cool family Thanksgiving traditions we want to start for our itty bitty family, and I'm in charge, of course, of the food. We will probably have several students here, perhaps a friend of ours that lives in New York, and who knows who else. That's one of our new family traditions... open table to all around us who have nowhere to go for Thanksgiving. My family had that as I was growing up - especially as I got into college years - and I always loved the concept of having as many as possible at the table. Even though it makes for more work for me on the cooking end, there is something about Thanksgiving that just asks for that kind of attitude. The Pilgrims and the Indians started it by chowing down together at the table, I think we should continue in that same spirit.

As for the actual cooking, I'm excited and nervous at the same time. I think I can do it. But the rub is that in our family, we don't really have Thanksgiving recipes. All the girls just go in the kitchen and start cooking, and between us we always remember everything. Now I have the responsibility of remembering everything all by myself!

I'll let you know how it comes...

Now comes the time when I must part, I have books to sort up in the office, and tonight Hubs and I are going to a dinner hosted and prepared by two students. Should be fun!

missing him

2008-10-14T00:57:00.003-04:00

(Because sometimes I think it's totally ok to be transparent about your truest, raw feelings to your friends)

Texas welcomed me back this week with open arms. It was great to walk into DFW and see the familiar sights of Dallas as we drove through on Sunday night. It was wonderful to hug my parents and catch up with them. And the Mexican food tasted perhaps even better than I expected.

Tomorrow I trudge deeper into East Texas for preparation for Katie's big day on Friday. I couldn't be happier for my dear friend. Mom and I put the final alterations on my bridesmaid dress tonight, and it's ready to be put on one last time late Friday afternoon.

But throughout the joy and excitement at being back surrounded by the familiar, something's missing. Hubs couldn't come with me this week.

Hubs has become that catalyst of the familiar, that element that makes the joyous even more enjoyable. Things no longer seem quite right if they can't be shared with my companion, the love of my life. When the hecticity of the day fades to dusk and the lights go dim, the insomnia creeps in as the emptiness next to me in the bed grows colder. The strong, independent woman that I was even two years has softened into someone who is still the same, yet different. I'm not complete without him, there is a void when we are apart that inevitably must be faced. I cherish his voice on the phone more, I close my eyes and see his features. Somehow, subtly, he has crept inside the fiber of my being, so much so that the separation when we're apart - even for these 6 short days - can seem like an eternity. I think this is part of the mystery that Scripture speaks of when a husband and wife cleave to one another and become one flesh. The seperation of that oneness, even for brief instances of time, results in feelings of loneliness for the other half. I miss him. I love him fiercely, and am loved fiercely in return. And I'm so excited about seeing him again on Saturday.

In the meantime, I greatly enjoy my days with my parents and close friends, and try to sleep at night by listening to my iPod and leaving the closet light on.

Over the Rhine sums up the emotion in this post much more poetically in the song I've been listening to often throughout the last 24 hours...

Drunkard's Prayer

You're my water,
You're my wine,
You're my whiskey,
From time to time.
You're the hunger
On my bones,
All the nights I sleep alone.

Sweet intoxication,
When your words wash over me.
Whether or not your lips move
You speak to me.

Like an ocean
Without waves,
You're the movement that I crave.
And in that motion
I long to drown,
And be lost
Not to be found.

insomnia induced randomness

2008-10-10T06:45:00.006-04:00

I've been awake since 4:30 this morning. It's now 6:45. For the last 2 hours I've been sitting on the couch watching Roseanne reruns. I don't even like Roseanne. What's even worse, Murry has been asleep in my lap the whole time. Every time I shift around he grunts and groans and turns his sleepy little eyes up at me like I'm ruining his good sleep. What's more infuriating than not being able to sleep? Watching the puppy sleep soundly while you can't sleep.

I logged on to Facebook and hung out for a while, waiting to see if there was anybody to chat with. I have 129 friends on Facebook, and none of them are online right now. Because normal people are asleep.

I have a lunch appointment with the wife of another RUF campus minister at noon today... I hope I'm not too sleepy by that time. I will have been up for almost 8 hours by then. But the coffee is helping with that already.

On Sunday I'm flying to Texas for Katie and Eric's wedding - Katie and I have been really close friends since college. She's going to be a beautiful bride. And I'm going to cry. I have to make sure to pack the waterproof mascara.

My parents are picking me up from the airport on Sunday, I'm looking forward to seeing them. Dad was talking about Mexican food on the phone a couple of nights ago... I've been going through fajita withdrawal.

I'm tired of political commercials. If the candidates don't start actually talking about something other than what the other one has done wrong, I'm gonna to go nuts. Both of these guys are the best at talking hours and never saying a complete thought. I hate it.

Hubs' alarm just went off! He'll be up soon! Company! Even though he has to leave for an all day presbytery retreat in about an hour, I'll get to talk to someone for a few minutes, anyway.

This is quite possibly the most random post I've ever written. I'm not a morning person. So when mornings force themselves on me like this, the outcome is not pretty.

Happy Morning! (Caty, this one's for you)

currently

2008-09-28T18:50:00.001-04:00

I'm sitting on the couch next to Hubs, who is sprawled out watching the Cowboys game with Murry asleep on his chest (it's an "awwww!" moment). Our friend Hans is on his way at some point to join us, as is our Cowboys Sunday tradition. I made a big pile of oatmeal raisin cookies, and they're tempting me from the coffee table to eat "just one more." It's been raining all day, as is common during the fall season in Pennsylvania. I love that. It's in the 60's for the highs and low 50's to 40's for the lows, which I also love. The leaves are beautiful. I promise to post pictures.

Life is good right now. Settling in can be scary, but finally we have reached that point. We're here, we're comfortable. It's so good to be home.

saving money and time is my goal

2008-09-27T21:59:00.001-04:00

Hubs and I went to BJ's (basically a Sam's or Costco) today. I got a coupon book in the mail on Thursday, and as I flipped I discovered that most of the coupons in there were $2 to $3 off of frozen food items or products that we use on a regular basis. And it's discounted off the already bulk price. So I clipped, I studied, and Hubs and I went this afternoon to reap the fruits of my efforts. We stocked up on enough of some things to last us through the entire winter. And we had $45 worth of coupons. That's a lot of savings. We filled our basket and headed for the checkout, and Hubs decided to make a competition out of guessing how much the total of our "investment" would be. His guess was $125 higher than mine. He made fun of me for how low my guess was. Then we stood and watched as the register finished... within $6 of my guess. As I told Hubs then, it's because grocery shopping is my job in this family in the first place. Every two weeks I go through the process of clipping coupons, planning our menu, and bargain shopping for groceries. It's my job, I feel accomplished and successful when I walk out of the grocery store knowing that we saved money. And yesterday was a day I'll remember and repeat as often as possible. We will be saving around $100 off of our monthly budget for at least the next 3 months, and it will significantly reduce for much longer. Going just slightly over budget this month will benefit us immensely as we watch this day pay out.

Not to mention the thrill of the win surged through my veins as I sipped my $1.09 "Classic Cherry" Icee and chewed my $0.89 pretzel - the spoils of my victory.

It was a good day.

absence makes the heart grow... ?

2008-09-15T22:43:00.003-04:00

I'm a horrible person. If my trustworthiness relied on my blogging faithfulness, I would have lost all credibility. I know this. And yet... I'm not really sorry that it's been 6 weeks since the last time I posted. I have to be honest. I've been so incredibly busy. But I've missed the writing, the outlet, the knowledge that at any given moment those who I hold most dear can log on and connect with my life with the click of a button. I like that I know my life is, in a way, chronicled here for all my loved ones to read and share with me in my experiences. So I'm back!

The biggest thing that has occured in my life since the last post is Murry. We got a dog. Hubs and I love dogs... we've wanted one since we got married. But big city apartment life is not very conducive to happy puppies, so we waited. Now we have a house and a little yard, and a little Jack Russell Terrier named Murry to poop in it. He's added a lot of energy to this house. As I write he's curled up on the couch next to my knee, sleeping soundly after wearing himself out playing chase with Hubs. They are quite a pair. He even likes watching Cowboys games with Hubs... which is what we're doing tonight. Monday night football is back! A couple of students just left at halftime, life is starting to fall into a regular pattern.

We're loving the ministry. Hubs gets to study and preach and meet with students all week. It's hard work, but fun and rewarding. I get to work on the house and study and meet with students some, too.

Church is going pretty good, we're beginning to make friends. Actually, the best friends we've made so far, though, we met at the movie theater when we went to see Batman: The Dark Knight. (Excellent movie, BTW). Hubs was wearing an A&M t-shirt, and we were approached by a Texan asking about the shirt... which led to the discovery that he and Hubs graduated from the same small town high school within a couple years of each other. He introduced us to his girlfriend, and we all hit it off so well that we wound up going to supper together after the movie. This has resulted in a good friendship as we have continued to get together for different outings.

Next week we start a couples fellowship group through church, and I start women's Bible study on Thursday mornings. We're really starting to settle into a swing of life. And a sense of normalcy is welcome.

I think that's pretty good catch up for now... I'm determined to begin being more regular with posting and keeping up-to-date. We'll see how that resolution goes.

settling in and catching up (part 2)

2008-08-02T10:09:00.004-04:00

I don't know if I've had too much coffee this morning, or what, but I have an underlying sense of excitement flowing through my veins. Things are starting to take shape around our home, and the feeling of the impending fall semester with all of it's adventures and surprises is beginning to seem like a reality. It's exciting. This morning the ministry leadership team is meeting at our kitchen table, I made them all a big breakfast and then scooted up here to write and talk to my dear Bethany friend (happy birthday!) on the phone. Hubs pointed out a couple nights ago when he came in from edging the yard to the supper I was finishing up that for the first time in our married life we're really starting to fall into a pattern. Normal married life stuff is beginning to fall into place. I mean, we have a house! And the house part is where I left off yesterday...

After we rolled into town late Sunday afternoon, we were welcomed at Hubs' new boss' home with warm hugs and dinner. We slept hard that night, and woke to meet the real estate agent at our new house for the walk-through, then closing, then loading our suitcases and borrowing an air mattress from the boss and driving back to our house and then... deep breaths. We own a home. We walked around and looked at our living room, our kitchen, our three tiny bedrooms and one bathroom. It was our house!

We spent that week cleaning and sleeping on an air mattress, waiting for our furniture to arrive. Hubs flew out for five days training the following Sunday, still no furniture or boxes. Mom flew in that same day to stay with me and help me unpack the yet phantom boxes. Finally, on Monday the truck arrived! Again with the big truck. Again with the wouldn't fit down the street. Again with the hiring of a shuttle truck and having to transfer everything over and then to unload it.

But finally, at the end of the day on Monday, we had furniture! Beds, chairs, dishes, pots, and pans! It was good to see our own stuff again, having our furniture and things in our new house really made it start feeling like our home. Mom and I worked hard all week, unpacking the kitchen and painting over the lime green paint that was in Hubs' third floor office.

By the time Hubs came home last Friday, we were even more settled in and starting to feel really at home in this little town.

settling in and catching up

2008-08-01T09:16:00.003-04:00

I poured myself a cup of coffee, kissed hubs and sent him off to his meeting this morning, and picked up my old laptop friend. It's been a long and difficult seperation, but me, computer, and internet are all finally reunited once more. Are any of my readers even still keeping up? I've missed you all so terribly.

On Friday, July 11 (I can't believe it's only been three weeks!), the movers arrived at our little 2 bedroom apartment in Dallas - 3 hours late. This was the start to the move that set the tone for the next couple of weeks as we began this journey to the Northeast. For international moves, it seems the theme is "contract the biggest truck imaginable, pack as many people into it as we can, and move them all at the same time." So they brought the biggest truck they had, and couldn't get it through the gate at our apartment complex. Finally, at 11:30, a little shuttle truck arrived and began what should have been started at 8am. Everything got numbered, loaded, taken apart and shifted. We kept the guys supplied with Gatoraide, and they worked hard. Hubs' parents came and watched with us and helped us clean each room as it emptied. Steph and Preston brought us a magnificent burrito for lunch. At 4:30pm we turned in our keys, signed the last of the paperwork, and tearfully said goodbye to the first home of our married life. So many memories, so much of life formed. We were excited, but surprisingly sad. Then we said tearful goodbye's to Hubs' parents, promising to call and visit.

We hit the road at 5pm, headed east out of Dallas. When everything was scheduled for three hours earlier, we had made hotel reservations in Memphis, which is a little over a seven hour drive from Dallas. So we had hopes of making it there when we started out, Hubs in his car and me in mine. (Hubs transported his mounted trophy deer head himself, and that thing stared out his back window at me for 1500 miles! It was a little creepy.) Tearfully, we passed the Texas/Arkansas border, knowing we wouldn't be back to our home state for at least 6 months. We made it to Little Rock, and then the exhaustion and the emotion and the darkness closed in, and we broke down and cancelled our reservation in Memphis and found a room for the night at a La Quinta in Little Rock. We got unloaded and cleaned up and into bed around 12:30, and the sleep felt so good.

The next morning, after a filling continental breakfast from the hotel lobby, we hit the road again at 9am. In 2 hours we were out of Arkansas and into Tennessee. We were now two states removed from "home." In case you were wondering, Tennessee is a very long, thin state. Especially when you're driving longways across it. Memphis, Nashville, on toward Knoxville... we were in a different time zone now, and making good time, deteremined not to have to cancel our next hotel reservation in Roanoke, Virginia. It's a 12 hour drive from Little Rock to Roanoke, and we were sure we could do it. About 30 miles outside of Knoxville, however, doubt came in the form of a tanker truck accident on Interstate 40. All traffic shut down for a 24 hour period while they cleaned up what had to have been one of the biggest wrecks ever. All traffic rerouted. Up to 5 hour delays. After 2 1/2 hours, we had made it about 5 miles. Hubs and Dad got their heads together over the phone, however, and became heroes for the day by finding us little backwoods Tennessee roads (duelling banjos were ringing in my ears the whole time) that wound us back to I-40 on the other side of all the traffic, detouring the detour. And it just wouldn't be a good Tennessee story if I didn't share that the name of the little road we took was "Pig Path."

We made it to Knoxville, and picked up speed. We were determined to make it. The traffic, albeit sitting still, was a little bit of a break. So we kept driving. And driving. As dark was falling, we left Tennessee and entered Virginia (we were now three states removed from "home"). And we drove more. At 1:30am (12:30am Central), we made it to our Roanoke hotel where we had reservations. We were too tired to even smile at the desk clerk's thick Virginia accent when we checked in. But we had made it, and we felt so accomplished. 15 1/2 hours on the road, driving seperate cars, with only three breaks no longer than 20 minutes each. We fell into bed at 2am, and slept hard.

The third day we slept late. We called in a late check-out and slept until 11. We were on the road by 12:30, filled up with gas, and started down one of the most beautiful roads of the trip. Mountains, old dairy and sheep farms, winding streams and railroad tracks... The scenery was beautiful. We hit a huge thunderstorm in Virginia and had to slow our progress down to 45 mph as trucks and driving rain made visibility very limited. We entered the tip of West Virginia as the storm tapered off, and we were now four states away from "home." More mountain roads, more scattered storms, we left West Virginia 20 minutes later and entered Maryland - five states away from "home." Crossing the Potomac River was a big deal for me for some reason. That's one of the coolest things I've done in a car. About 30 minutes after we entered Maryland, we drove across the Maryland/Pennsylvania border. We were home, six states away.

It took us about 3 more hours in Pennsylvania to reach our new town, and as the buildings and bridges began to form in the distance, I began to smile. The familiarity of our new town was welcoming us from the distance... roads we've driven in rent cars we were now driving in our own cars. Familiar landmarks, new favorite restaurants. The turn off for the University. It was good to be home.

Ok, gang. There is still much to catch up on, but I'm getting a writer's cramp. I'll fill you in on the rest in the next post.

leaving slowly

2008-07-03T11:06:00.003-04:00

I am excited.
I am happy.
I am sad.
I am terrified.

And that's just before 10am. Lately I could easily be diagnosed with a multiple personality disorder. I swing from ecstatic to clinically depressed within 5 minutes. The boxes get higher in our apartment floor. The tears are getting thicker from the friends who stop by or take us to dinner or call us up to say goodbye. Watching your friends grieve your departure is one of the sweetest pains you can experience. It's wonderful to be loved, it's difficult to leave a support group that loves you... like that. Some of my dearest friends have come by to pack a box with me or give me a package of coffee to help me get through the packing stress and make me feel so loved, but knowing that there is no one, really, on the other end of this move that will be able to do that makes me prematurely lonely.

But beyond the pain of leaving our dear friends and family (don't even get me started on the difficulties of saying goodbye to family), there is a rewarding satisfaction that comes from knowing, without doubt, that the Lord has called us to what He has, and will take care of us. In fact, the leaving of friends and family to make this move to the northeast is actually part of His preparation of us to do His work. Right now the students that we will be ministering to are leaving their homes and friends and families for the first time, and we're gaining unique insight to what they are feeling right now, as well.

And we're learning trust. Living on support, living apart from those we love, living in the Lord and with each other, just hubs and me. We're trusting in God alone to pull us through this difficult goodbye, and are so excited about the fruit of this ministry that we will see as a result of our sacrifice. So while the sacrifice is huge... the reward is worth it.

But in the meantime, we covet your prayers, your tears, and still treasure every phone call, email, personal visit that we receive from each of you as we get ready to leave. As sad as it is to leave you, we want to keep saying goodbye.

neglect

2008-05-25T12:31:00.002-04:00

Hello, old friends! I have missed you all so terribly.

I know I have been so neglectful lately, but for good reason. Since the day I walked out of the office, I have been running nonstop. We flew out the following Sunday for Pennsylvania, and were gone for 2 weeks. The first few days were spent and RUF camp with the students we will be working with at the University, a fun and fulfilling experience as we got to spend time with our future friends. After that we drove back to the town where we will be living and looked at houses for the next 5 days. We selected our favorite, made an offer, received a counter offer, and have just turned in our counter offer and we are excitedly waiting to see what the Lord has in store for us to live in!

The end of the 2nd week we drove into Philadelphia for Scott's seminary graduation, a fun and moving experience. On our way back to the hotel that night, his diploma across my knees, we reminisced and shed a few tears together as we talked of what God has done. Forming us together as husband and wife, bringing Scott through Lyme disease and a time when we both thought he might not even be able to finish seminary, openning the doors for us to move to PA for this wonderful ministry opportunity... all of this little pieces, having been intricately woven together, are just beginning. And we feel extraordinarily blessed.

This is a short post for now, we're in Oklahoma today and I need to hit the shower so I can make a presence at lunch, but I wanted to update each of my faithful readers as to the happenings in our lives up to this point. Much more to follow.

the end of an era

2008-05-09T13:12:00.003-04:00

It's finally here. This day I've been anticipating, dreading, looking toward for months now. This chapter is closing, and the next is opening. I drove into the parking garage this morning and considered it being my last morning to make that drive... and it felt strangely normal. I'm somewhere between where "business as usual" meets "drastically different," and I'm not quite sure yet what to do with myself.

But in about an hour I will be departing these halls, and I won't be coming back in on Monday to greet everyone. That feels weird.

I'm excited, though. We're openning this next chapter of our lives, and it feels really refreshing to know that this next move will be ours, a decision that hubs and I made together and have done on our own. It feels like such a married thing to do. And the best part of the whole thing? I'm taking my best friend with me (or, more specifically, he's taking me)! I look forward to the road ahead, even though it's a bit scary.

happy sadness

2008-04-29T14:41:00.006-04:00

How can so many emotions co-exist? My primary emotion is elation. Excitement that we are moving, excitement seeing our hopes and dreams come to fruition. Excitement at what the Lord is doing in our lives. Excitement at leaving my job and being able to devote that time to our home, packing, moving, and supporting my handsome hubs as he prepares for ministry and ordination.

But there's a side to all of this that I wasn't really expecting. I'm sad. Deeply sad, feeling a little grieved and a sense of loss as I face leaving this place. Granted, my work has had its ups and downs this year - a lot more downs at times than ups - but it's been four years of my life, four years of sweat, tears, and joy. Four years of ups and downs. Anyone knows that after four years of trial and error, a bond forms. Relationships have been forged in these trenches, relationships that will be with me always. I love my brothers and sisters in the faith that I've worked with here. I love this church, even with its flaws that I've had a front row seat for at times. But something about giving years of your life to a place, especially a place of ministry, does that. I've grown attached to the lives around me, the precious people and even the not-so-precious ones. It's hard to leave, much harder than I expected. My boss is one of my heroes. I've seen him and his family grow through times this year that have been so much harder than anything I've experienced or ever want to experience. And I love that family for it. There will always be a fondness in my heart for this family that I've been able to share in, just a teeny bit, while working with my boss. His adorable kids and wife that I've called for advice on more than one occasion. So many great relationships, that while our friendship will continue, I will miss that daily interaction.

However, as I mentioned at the beginning of this post, it's not just all sadness, there is a lot of happy going on right now, too. I spent most of the weekend at home cleaning out closets and going through 6 months worth of mail that needed to be filed. (YES, we paid our bills. Marz asked me that yesterday at lunch when I was telling her about it. We've been keeping up, just not filing...). Last night I attacked the pile of boxes under our guest bed that we never unpacked in the first place when we moved in. These things are giving me glimpses of what I will be able to do when I no longer have to be gone 8-10 hours out of every day, and I like what I'm seeing.

So many emotions going on... but most of all, I feel at peace. The Lord has led us, very clearly, where He wants us to go. All we have to do is trust Him.

the beginning of the end

2008-04-25T15:09:00.002-04:00

It's done.

About 45 minutes ago I turned in my two weeks notice. I'm leaving my job on May 9.

This is starting to get very real. I'm happy, oh, so happy.

But it scares the living breath out of me. Big moves, big moments in life. Here we go!

countdown

2008-04-22T12:50:00.005-04:00

Life doesn't have a snooze button, does it? Have I missed it? 'Cause I could really use one right now. Well, at least somewhat. See, some things I want to hurry up, other things I want to slow down. I'm so excited about moving! Transitioning into that new phase of life in Pennsylvania that waits for us. I'm excited about the ministry there, about the students and seeing God work mightily through my husband as he pours his heart into them. We get the awesome privilege of investing our time into students' lives, and that is so awesome work. It seems like we have been in the preparation stage forever. From seminary to the job search, to the actual preparation part of this ministry at the University, it feels like we have always been preparing, now we're almost to the part where we get to do what we've been in preparation for!

For the short-term, though, the exhaustion of preparation is overwhelming. Hubs is exhausted from the hours of papers and classes and exams and studying for ordination and fundraising and finishing his internship here and working and the countless other things that are taking our time. I'm exhausted from the 40 hour work schedule and fundraising and watching him be tired and trying to keep the house clean. It's a lot for us to deal with right now, and we're slowly counting down to the point where we can start checking things off of our list of things to be completed and wrapped up of our life in Texas.

I have 17 days until my last day of work. 17 days. 2 weeks from Friday, I will be walking out of the offices I've called my "day home" for 4 years and leaving behind a job that has shaped me, grown me, and seen me through many huge life changing moments. I wrote on my calendar a quote for my last day, from one of my favorite Friends episodes when Rachel has to move out of the apartment she had shared with Monica (yes, I did just compare a part of my life with a 90's sitcom), "It's the end of an era!" And yes, yes it is. A good end, a much needed end, but a sad end, nonetheless. I love my boss (and his amazing family), I love the work that he does with the 20 and 30 somethings here, and I love supporting him in that. I look forward to being able to do the same thing for hubs in Pennsylvania, but I'm going to miss that working relationship here that has worked so well. I'm going to miss some of my closest friends, Steph, Caty, Marz, Sarah, Phil, David, BZ, BK, and so many others who I've formed great bonds with in my time here. Other aspects of my job I'm not going to miss so much, but I am not going to muddy the water by throwing in the bad with all the good.

I'm looking forward to checking off a major source of stress in the form of a 40 hour per week time commitment and much emotional involvement when I leave this job to spend time preparing our home for the cross-country move, though. The time and stress relief that it will provide will be immeasurable. I look forward to being able to work at my own pace, with my own schedule. I look forward to not having to come into the office every morning, but getting up and starting work right there. Perhaps one day that will become old, but after so many years of being on a time clock in an office, the change of pace and schedule will be so refreshing!

Many changes are ahead in our future, and I've just tipped the iceburg in talking about the one so close ahead. There are many more posts coming in the future about the changes that hubs and I are experiencing in our lives during this huge transition. But for the next 2 1/2 weeks, this one will preoccupy my time most of all.

deadly projectiles

2008-04-14T20:19:00.010-04:00

I have a poster on the wall in my office, a demotivational poster on change. It has a picture of a tornado tearing through a field and has the tag, "When the winds of change blow hard enough, the most trivial of things can become deadly projectiles."

My friend Steph gave me this poster, as it is very fitting for our life of late. Actually, I think she gave it to me right before my wedding, but it has remained an ever-constant truth throughout the year (maybe I should take it down, now that I think about it). Last night and today are another example of the deadly projectiles that I have encountered throughout the year.

This weekend was nothing if not really busy. Hubs and I spent all day Saturday meeting with people about the work which we are heading into very soon, work that up until now I have been very quiet about in my blog, but that is now at the point where we can speak freely and openly. I will get to that more later in this post. The hectic weekend led us into back to back meetings at 11:30 for brunch, 2pm, 4pm, 6pm for supper, and 8pm on Saturday until we returned to our apartment to crash about 9:30. On Sunday we had church, a lunch meeting, and then a supper meeting. It was sometime after the supper meeting that I started coming down with an infection of some sort, and was up sick all night and finally fell asleep this morning at 6:15am. I was feeling not good for most of the day, but my Dr called me in a prescription for an anitbiotic and as of about 5pm, I have been feeling much better. I can honestly track it back and chalk up getting sick to just being so tired and stressed from not having a break all week. Ick.

On a little more fun note, I came home from work on Friday evening to find hubs playing games on one of these. He found a fantastic deal on Craig's List that we just couldn't pass up.

And subsequently, I spent most of Friday night and Saturday morning playing a lot of this.

So that was the highlight of our weekend, along with the preparation for ministry that we did on Saturday and Sunday. The winds of change are blowing, and they're blowing toward the Northeast. In about 2 1/2 months we will be moving! To Pennsylvania! It's such exciting times in our lives right now. The first week in July we are packing up our little apartment that has served us so well for our first year, and trusting God for our future in campus ministry at the University in Pennsylvania. We'll be a little north of Philadelphia and a little west of New York City in a town that is small enough that I'm not going to post the name on the blog, and the name of the school will from now on just be known as the University. In preparation for this, hubs and I have been fundraising in our "spare time" for our funding (both personal and ministry). We have discovered the surprising joy of fundraising. It's amazing to see the Lord's blessing through this process. It is so humbling to watch the Lord go before us and prepare hearts of those who we have met with, and to see people grow excited about our ministry and life in Pennsylvania. This whole process has been a wide open door welcoming us into the Northeast and our new lives in ministry.

So we're excited! Big changes. I'm quitting my job in a little more than three weeks, looking forward to being able to destress a little bit and cut down on "distractions" from the process of moving and fundraising and all the details that need to happen before we move.

Prayers are appreciated, we're going to miss our friends and family here so much! But we are so excited as we walk through this process of discovering what the Lord has ahead of us.

highlights

2008-04-09T11:28:00.004-04:00

I've been working for about a month to organize the retreat our department took this last weekend. Part of the joy of working so hard on a project is getting to see people enjoy themselves at the actual event. Everyone seemed to have a great time, and the speaker was fantastic. Hubs even managed to flip himself upside down while flying down the Zip Line 50 feet in the air, a feat that would rival some of Spider Man's best moves (I thought it was really cute).

At the end of the retreat, we showered and washed our campfire-odored jeans and drove off to Tyler where one of my dearest and best friends, Katie, got engaged (surprise, Katie!) to her wonderfully sweet boyfriend Eric. They're one of the cutest couples ever, and I don't think anything could rival their level of excitement right now. I'm so excited for them!

But perhaps the best part of the weekend, for me, was hearing from Elliott Greene, our retreat speaker extraordinaire. Elliott spoke on spiritual discernment, and most specifically for me, the concept of being malleable to the will of God. To sum up the feelings I've had lately, it's been a spiritual struggle for me to be open to instruction. At times in my life when I feel insecure, it is then that a facade of pride arises in my heart and mind. It's as if I want to be proud of myself, to feel like I know something about life when my emotions can lead me to believe that I'm stupid. And it's at those times, which ironically are the times when I need wise counsel the most, that I become unteachable in myself and resistant to the loving instruction of my peers, and even of my sweet hubs who has been placed in my life by God to lead and guide me. This is not an attitude which the Lord finds glorifying. It feels good at the conclusion of a thoughtful, reflective weekend to repent of the revealed sin in my life and search my heart that God would reveal even more to me at where I struggle.

sometimes it seems rational...

2008-04-02T19:23:00.003-04:00

frosting on the cake

2008-04-01T13:18:00.004-04:00

I woke up this morning feeling groggy and wiped out. I had food poisoning yesterday, spent all day on the couch playing Zoo Tycoon on my laptop and watching HGTV (in HD!). But this morning I was still feeling a little under the weather and having trouble recouping from everything that went on with my body yesterday.

Hubs had just gotten out of the shower, and was gently trying to pry me awake enough to tell him what I wanted him to put in a text message to my boss... was I going to take sick day round 2, or was I well enough to go in? I decided I was well enough to go in, but late. He sent the text, and I groggily moved my body toward the edge of the bed to sit up. My sore, aching, tired body illicited this comment from my lips, "I hate work." Hubs looked at me quizzically, tilting his head a little to the right with a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, brow furrowed slightly. "Why?"

I grimaced, groaned, and answered, "Because you have to go to it every day."

Hubs laughed and said something about me being cute, patted my head, and reminded me that I hadn't had to go to work yesterday.

But we both knew what I meant. It's just really hard sometimes to have to drag yourself out of bed when your body is tired and when you feel like being an absolute bum and get to work. To go in and sit behind a desk all day when you want to stay in your pajamas. In fact, I despise this responsibility so much sometimes that it results in words like I spoke from the shower another morning while hubs was brushing his teeth, "Adulthood sucks."

But truth be told, it doesn't. I like being an adult. Parts of responsible adulthood are really quite grand. Exibit A: hubs. I have a sweet husband that I wake up next to every morning and spend all of life's adventures and ups and downs with. A sweet man who brings me coffee and props up the pillows on these mornings so I can wake up slowly, who texts my boss from my phone so I don't even have to move my fingers until I'm awake, and who laughs at me when I make stupid comments about how much I hate going to work when I'm groggy and angry at the morning.

It's those things that help me see how much I really do like my adult life. It may not be cake most of the time, in fact, life is often as digestible as a brick being shoved down your throat. But even if I don't get to eat cake every day, hubs is definitely the frosting.

And I like the frosting better than the rest of the cake, anyway.

illustration

2008-03-25T18:25:00.004-04:00

Flipping through the pictures from my wedding a bit ago, an illustration of Scripture jumped out at me. Abby (my photographer and dear friend) snapped this shot of me peeking through the window at hubs just minutes before I was to walk down the aisle to become his wife.

Often I flip back through our wedding pictures and remember the joy of that day, the day that I married my true love, my handsome hubs. Often, while doing this, I think through the many descriptions in Scripture of Christ's love for His bride, the Church. To me, as I flipped through today, I thought of 1 Corinthians 13:12, "For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then I shall know even as also I am known."

Right now we are still in the time of peeking at our Groom through the dark glass, but soon the time will be fulfilled when the doors of heaven will swing open and we will be caught up to meet Him in the air, and thus we shall see him face to face as we are joined with Him. What a glorious wedding day that will be!

much ado about nothing

2008-03-20T13:02:00.002-04:00

So, there is so much going on, but so much I'm not going to write about. Someday I will disclose all, but at this point there is nothing that can be said. All in due time, my friends, all in due time. And, no, I'm not pregnant (why does everybody keep asking me that?).

Work has been busy, life has been good. This weekend hubs and I are heading toward the west to visit sister J, her husband T, and their passle of kiddos. We're excited about that, hubs has begun to appreciate the joy of being an uncle even more than before. As we were getting ready for bed last night, he grinned at me and said how much fun he felt like he'd acquired upon marrying me and gaining 3 nieces. For this reason, I'm even more excited about tomorrow afternoon and heading off in the direction of the west after work (the 7 hour drive after work doesn't really excite me, though).

In other news... I'm back. I'm me. Suddenly, here is the happy, healthy, flirty girl that I was before valium, before vertigo, before all the other things that have come in and stolen me away from myself. I don't really know what made the flip, and according to friends it wasn't that big of a flip (I think I've been more myself than I've felt like I have), but internally it was huge. It's like I woke up one morning and the world fell back into perspective. Hubs is loving it. He has "back," in some sense, the woman that he married. Our marriage has grown so much through the health trials and frustrations of the past year, and our relationship with the Lord has grown through the challenges, as well. But just because we were all growing doesn't mean it had to continue. Praise the Lord for healing, for a return to "normalcy" (whatever the fluid definition of that term really is). I'm back, I'm me, and I'm loving it.

By the way, in case you ever had a chance to wonder, hubs is the best possible husband ever. So patient and caring with me, supportive, serving, and loving toward me. He never complains about the late nights I have to work sometimes, I just come home from the office to find the candles lit, a place on the couch all set up with the remote control at one hand and a cold drink or glass of wine at the other hand, and a warm hug. Last night I worked until 10:30, and when I came home he even got my pajamas out and had those ready for me. He's awesome. I'm looking forward to the next chapter(s) that life has to offer us.

shhhh...

2008-03-06T09:38:00.010-05:00

Keep your voices down, because it's 8:30 in the morning and not really a "lunch break post," but I just needed to chat for a second. And, knowing me and my guilty conscience, I'll wind up shaving 15 minutes off my lunch break or staying an extra 15 or something at the end of the day, just to make up for sneaking a little posting time right now.

So... hubs is currently in flight somewhere over Kentucky right now (educated guess, not a fully informed placement of his plane in the air) on a quick business trip that took him out of bed at 4am and out of our apartment at 5am. I got up to tell him how cute he looked in his suit and shower him with kisses and tell him to not take off his wedding ring, ever, because that's his "girl repellent" and all that weird and quirky wife stuff that I do all the time because I am, in fact, a very weird and quirky wife. Then I locked up the door and set the burgular alarm and crawled back into our bed with the mind that I was going to go back to sleep until 7:30 when I had to get up and get ready for work. But I discovered something. Just 8 1/2 months of marriage behind us, and I now cannot sleep without him next to me. Especially without him in the apartment. Suddenly I was tossing and turning and subconsciously trying to find his foot with my foot. So I had to finally give up. Here I was, 5:15am, don't have to be at work until 8:30, wandering around our apartment trying to decide what to do. Go in to work really early? Yeah, I really don't love my job that much. Go to the gym and work out? Sure. Like that's gonna happen. So I just piddled around, read some, took my time getting ready and actually "styled" my hair somewhat (I have to admit a bit of satisfaction that my hair? Looks just the same as it would if I had just showered and scrunched it as I normally do. Why is this satisfying? Because I never have to worry about "styling" my hair again. It will turn out the same whatever I do).

I was early to work, anyway, with all the reading and "styling" and stuff, a good 15 minutes early (hmmm... there's where the made up time falls, I don't have to shave my lunch break or leave late! Yay!)

Tonight. Commences. Utter. Silliness.

As promised in the previous post, I will give you more background information on tonight's slumber party. I have these two friends, Bethany and Mindy, who have been friends of mine since, well, basically around 3rd grade. For those of you who aren't good at math, I'm not either. But, I think that works itself out to we've been friends for over 2/3 of my life. And as kids/teenagers/college students, we used to get together, eat a ton of chocolate, watch movies, talk about boys, paint each others tonails, and have the most rockinest slumber parties in the entire United States of America (disclaimer: might be a slight exaggeration).

Then we all got married. And Bethany moved to Nebraska (seriously, who moves to Nebraska?) and I moved to Dallas, and Mindy stayed where she was but we just pretty much abandoned her. Then Bethany moved to Dallas (yay!). Then Bethany and I discovered that tonight both of our husbands would be out of town. Then Bethany remembered that Mindy was slated to come down tomorrow to spend the weekend here. Then the plan formed.

So, I'm heading over to Bethany's, Mindy's coming down a day early, all the husbands are happy at their respective destinations. Let. The. Party. Commence. I'll give you the after report, but I'll give you some snippets of preparation. Double chocolate brownies, my favorite season of Friends on DVD, a bunch of extra girl movies, hubs' pajama pants and large t-shirt because my best friends? Still don't completely take away the missing of hubs and wanting to wear his pajama pants so I can think about him and feel close to him while he's gone (also, they're the most comfortable article of clothing in our entire apartment).

While things have changed (we're putting three kids in bed at 8pm before we can really start the party, that's new!), we're so excited to take a little trip down memory lane and enjoy catching up and giggling and all the girl talk and fun times that can be had in one night.

quick break

2008-03-03T11:08:00.005-05:00

Ok, so I forgot my lunch today. Which means that sitting at my desk eating and blogging is not an option for me today. So I'm going to take a little snippet of my lunch break now, early, because I've just been dying to write a new post lately and have not been able to find the time (internet at home has not been working very well).

So to catch you up, quickly, fun times with friends, lots of friends, and family lately. First, it was Ryan and Caty spending a Friday night with us because they needed to be at a conference on Saturday and they live 40 minutes away... I haven't laughed so much in a very, very long time. I mean - sides hurt, make it stop or I'm going to puke - laughing so hard.

Insert laundry, fun times with hubs and sitting on the couch talking and watching Mavs basketball (I still say it was a bad trade - we didn't need Kidd!) - a lot - and then we arrive at this last week and Mavs game on Monday night, working late at a committee meeting on Tuesday night, supper and Xbox tournament with our friend Kruck on Wednesday. Thursday night held Stars game tix, courtesy of coworker/friend David, box seats in a suite (a suite!) with all the free hot dogs we could eat and cushy seats and fun times and platinum parking and on and on and on and it was the best Stars game EVER!!!

Friday night we found ourselves in Greenville for dinner with hubs' folks and then sitting up until nearly 1am talking and waking up the next morning for "lunch" with his grandparents that turned out more like "early supper" as we had steaks, scalloped potatoes, cake, etc. Much fun. Then our friend Jennifer came in town and we ordered pizza and watched Mothman Prophecies and got all creeped out together before watching some SNL to take the edge off, talking some, then heading to bed around 1am, again. Sunday was church, Jennifer's pick of barbeque for lunch (which she heard no complaining from me!), our subsequent flopping on the couch and groaning from eating too much until I fell asleep watching the Mavs game while Jennifer and hubs talked (probably about me). Jennifer left early afternoon and hubs and I fell asleep again, watched the OT Mavs finish, and then went to help our friend Marz pick up a chair she had purchased and take it to her apartment.

Now here we are, back at Monday. Wonderful Monday. This week holds a lot of fun, as well, with dinner with friends tomorrow night and then (GLORIOUS!) Triple Dip reunion on Thursday night! (Slumber party! Chocolate! Joy and happiness!)

I will explain more about the Triple Dips - who we are and where we originated - in the future because, alas, I am out of time for my quick dip into lunch break time today.

does this face make me look tired?

2008-02-15T14:01:00.004-05:00

What a week. For starters, at the end of today I will have officially clocked close to 60 hours of work. Hello, overtime! Hello, new shoes! Or, most likely, Hello, savings account!

Along with the sense of accomplishment that a 60 hour work week brings also comes, however, a sense of loss for not having really seen much of hubs all week. Sure, he's been there when I come stumbling in at 7, 8, or 10:30 pm these last few nights, vision cloudy with exhaustion. He's greeted me with a warm hug, a kiss, and dinner hot on the stove. He's recorded American Idol on TiVo for us to watch over supper-on-the-couch and he's made sure I'm all comfy and have a chance to sit and chill before crawling into bed about 2 or 3 hours later.

And we had a great Valentine's Day yesterday, I actually left work a little before 6 (a record!) and came home to flowers, a little music on the player, lasagna and cheesecake, candles and wine... Hubs is so amazing! It was perfect.

So the point of all this rambling is merely to send a shout out to my beloved's who all read my blog. I'm sorry, gals and guys, for the absence of our relational depth lately. Many of you have called and written, and I love you for it. It sucks that I feel void of relational energy. When I get home at night, the only thing I want to do is curl up on the couch with hubs and shout at the weird people who can't sing on Idol. And I know it's not an excuse and really no consolation for me not calling, but it's all I got. So, people, I love you all dearly, I'm not mad at anybody (I've gotten a few of those calls/messages, too), and I hope and pray to be less busy and back to being social shortly. Perhaps even tomorrow. In the meantime, please be patient, I have a touch of "hermititous" (and if someone looks that up and finds out that it is a real disease with gross symptoms, I don't want to know).

Love you guys!

playback

2008-02-11T13:24:00.000-05:00

Fantastic weekend of happiness. Seriously, I could cry that it ended... it was just that good.

Friday night saw hubs and I anticipating the arrival of our esteemed guests, my dearest college friend-bridesmaid in my wedding-close friend would not begin to do the relationship justice, KJ and her man, EL. As we waited for them, hubs cooked supper and I did the job of a good wife and played video games on the Xbox while he cooked. Then they arrived! Joy! Happiness! We sat up until 1 or 1:30am (it's around then that times all start feeling the same) and then dragged ourselves to bed promising not to do that again.

Saturday hubs made pancakes (truly, I love my personal chef!), KJ, EL and I consumed said pancakes, and then KJ and I departed for the land of malls and shoe stores. Several hours of shoe shopping later (shoes! shoes! and more shoes!), and even more girl talk accomplished, we returned home to find EL and hubs battling it out in FIFA World Cup soccer on the Xbox. Insert here a couple hours of doing nothing but watching them play video games and chatting and eating pretzels. Then we walked a mile to prepare and then departed for Snuffers where we each consumed our weights in the world's best cheese fries, chicken strips, and Dr Pepper. After this we drove to my office to print off concert tickets and ran into boss and family, which was a fun hour of talking, laughing, and watching them redecorate boss' office. (It looks fantastic, BTW). 7:30pm the doors opened at House of Blues, downtown, for Over the Rhine, which is a fantastic band that you should check out if you haven't already. This incredible concert let out around 11:30, and we returned home at midnight to watch some TiVo'd SNL before growing groggy enough to go to bed, again, around 1/1:30am.

Sunday morning we skipped Sunday school to see KJ and EL off back to the east where they live and then left for church. After church, we came home and played more Xbox, including (but not limited to) doubles Tetris (yes, I did win). Ate lunch (if I can really count a handful of snap peas as my lunch... still a little food hungover from all the cheese fries), and left for the park. The same park where Scott proposed. We like going there, it brings up sweet memories. Anyway, it was a great weather day, so we put a blanket out in the sunshine down by the water and laid in the grass and talked, played a little frisbee, drank our Sonic diet cherry limeaids (with a shot of strawberry), and just had a magnificent time enjoying that we both married our best friend. Then we took a windows down/radio up drive around the area and ended up back at the apartment when I started getting carsick (can't help it!). Last night I made supper and we flipped channels and did nothing until we went to bed early at 11:30 in preparation for the work week.

It was a great weekend, wouldn't change a minute of it if I could.

what?

2008-02-04T17:41:00.000-05:00

I love that there are several cans of cat food on the large table in our lunchroom. Seriously, people. I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.

i like bacon

2008-02-04T14:54:00.000-05:00

Craziness. We got home from church yesterday and feasted on some glorious sushi we had picked up on the way home. Then Scott took a nap (file this away for later) and I bummed around and accidentally fell asleep, even though I wasn't intending too (again, to be filed).

I made chicky-bacon poppers after we woke up, as we were planning on crashing some friends' Super Bowl party later on. However, as the Super Bowl started we began to contemplate wheter or not we really wanted to leave the house (who wants to interrupt a lazy Sunday?). We decided to re-evaluate at half time (man, we were lazy yesterday). I cleaned the kitchen and listened to hubs watch the first quarter of the game, running in for the commercial breaks (yes, this is totally logical behavior. Everybody does it). I finished the kitchen and joined hubs for the second quarter, toward the end of which we decided that we didn't have the energy to pack up and go to somebody's Super Bowl party when we have a perfectly good HDTV set of our own, so we reached the pinacle of our laziness and stayed home for the rest of the game (after all, who wants to have good commercial breaks interrupted by people wanting to have meaningful conversations?).

Problem: I had already made an entire tray of chicky-bacon poppers. The whole house was filled with their wonderful smell.
Solution: by the end of the third quarter hubs and I had eaten our respective weights in chicky-bacon poppers, which was approximately the entire tray. This was even more possible for us to do because we decided, in the presence of massive amounts of bacon grease, that supper was not necessary because we had chicky-bacon poppers (did I mention we were really lazy yesterday?).

After the game ended (yay Giants! Yay best Super Bowl in years and years! Boo Cowboys for not making it and giving hubs and I no real vested interest in the outcome of the game!), hubs and I sat on the couch, watched the postgame and ate some cherries (because possibly having some fruit in our diet would make us feel better for the large quantities of chicky-bacon poppers consumed during the game).

Problem: Cherries on top of chicky-bacon poppers make the tummy upset.
Solution: Tums.

At the conclusion of all the postgame stuff we contemplated going to bed, since it was after 11pm and we both had to work today. It was then that the realization hit me. We had a big meeting/event at 6:30am today, and I was supposed to buy creamers and have them in the fridge by last night. At 11:15pm, hubs and I left for Tom Thumb. We bought the creamers, took them to the church (do you have any idea how spooky that building can be at midnight on Sunday night?), dropped them off, and came back home. At midnight. And by now, our little creamer run had woke us both up that we couldn't sleep (also due to all the napping). So one glass of wine and two First 48 episodes later, we went to bed at 1:30am.

So now I'm sleepy. And a tinge grumpy. And looking forward to going to bed tonight. But overall... it was a great day/night with hubs.

things i love about this city

2008-01-24T21:29:00.000-05:00

Ok. So you all know that Dallas isn't necessarily my ideal place to live. I'm more of the hick country girl at heart than the fast-paced city slicker. Which is part of why hubs and I fit together so well. But should God ever call us away from this amalgamation of concrete and steel, there are many, many things I will miss about this place I have called home for the last 8 years. (I even have bullet points!)

Skyline. I love the Dallas skyline, how from any angle of the city you are immediately dwarfed by the granduer of the tall buildings in all shapes and forms as you drive into downtown. (The uniqueness of places like Reunion Tower and the Crescent Building...)
City Lights. Very similar to the Dallas skyline are the lights of the city. Darkness never really falls in Dallas, and for someone whose greatest all time fear is darkness, this sets very well with me. Although I do miss the stars.
Dallas Mavericks. Overpriced seats in the upper deck. Lights go dim, and the team rushes out onto the court as their very familiar theme music plays in the background. Screams from the fans for defense, rebounds, bad calls, amazing 3 point shots from the center of the court. Hubs and I formed half of our relationship in those nosebleed seats in the upper deck of the AAC... we love this team. We bring the fanatic back into the fan.
Dallas Cowboys. It's football, people. Nothing more really needs to be said. I do love the way this town shuts down every Sunday afternoon when the 'Boys play. Where else would you be but in your favorite chair or at Pluckers (Buffalo chicken strips!) with a cold drink in your hand and a few of your craziest friends around you, watching the game?
Dallas Stars. Ok. So it's not all about the sports. But seriously, it's Texas. We love all of our sports teams around here!
Central Expressway. I love interstate 75. It just... flows. The traffic, the crazy decisions in the middle of the week to shut down various lanes for no significant reason, the oddly designed entrance and exit ramps that nobody knows how they keep traffic flowing but somehow, they just do. It's the best artery in Dallas. (Did I mention the High 5?)
Sushi. No matter what time of night, there is always somewhere you can go to settle your sushi craving. We eat a lot of sushi. It's available and fresh. Something tells me most places, even cities, don't have the sushi availability that this place does.
The Dart Rail. It's the train that connects everything downtown to everything not downtown. And at 5pm, it's the easiest way to get downtown fast when you need to get there. It's also the best way to get to the AAC, as it drops all of the crazy Mavs and Stars fans off - right at the front door.

I could go on, but I'll save some stuff for later. It just occurs to me sometimes that I spend a lot of time referring to the Big D like a shoe that doesn't quite fit, but there are some things that get my heart pumping when I think about this metropolis.

it's how i roll

2008-01-23T18:35:00.000-05:00

It's after hours in these hallowed halls. Quiet has entered the building... funny how when everybody else exits, that's when quiet comes in. She's subtle, creeping in and spreading her fingers into each office as workers depart.

And she must be stopped. Why? Because I'm still here. Still clacking away on my keyboard, concerned that if I don't stop her from taking over, she will soon be too strong for me and I will succumb to her bait of sleepiness. So I blast my music from my worn computer speakers, trying to hold her coming off for another 15 or 20 minutes, until I can go home. So bring it on, Weezer. Bon Jovi. The Monkees. You are my last remaining friends as twighlight dwindles. Stay with me as I work late into the evening... and hedge the coming of quiet with me until tomorrow.

Rock'n'Roll, people. I'm working late again! Happy 7 month anniversary, hubs! See you whenever class releases you and my work slows enough for me to slip out without catching the eye of the stacks of paper on my desk.

UPDATE: It's about 15 minutes later, and "our song" just came on from my playlist. Wow, how depressing am I to be sitting in my office, by myself, listening to our song, on our 7 month anniversary. I really need to go home.

taco mania

2008-01-22T14:14:00.000-05:00

I hate it when people go for long periods of time without posting on their blog site. It's annoying when I log in first thing in the morning, check my emails and voicemail, and then set about to the highlight of my morning activities... checking my favorite blogs for updates while sipping my coffee. It helps me start my day. So how hard is it when I go, expecting to get a fresh jumpstart on my day, and find that nobody has posted anything new. It has the ability to cause my day to go downhill from there. All that to say, sorry guys. I'm sorry if I've ruined ya'lls days lately by not being very current. Something called "a full day's work" keeps getting in my way.

SO... Today for lunch I took hubs with Steph, Pres and I to the best taco place in the Metroplex. It's taco heaven, people. I mean, I've eaten a lot of tacos (being a Texan, of course I eat tacos), but these are the best "bought" tacos you can get. They are sold in the back of a gas station off Industrial near the Dallas county jail. Yes, I'm serious. Fuel City, the Fina station off Industrial at 30 has the best tacos I've ever eaten. Today was hubs first time to go there with me, and now he's completely sold on them. Mmmm... so good.

Last night Marz and I went to see Atonement which was a great movie, but not at all what we were expecting (and what the heck is up with my italics button key? It's all backwards and working funny...). We were expecting something along the lines of Pride and Prejudice and we GOT something along the lines of Pride and Depression - no wait, make that Prideless Depression. If you haven't seen the movie (this italics thing is messing up my head), go. It's a great story. Just watch Zoolander before you go or something... you'll need it. But girls night out was fun, I got to dress up in my jeans and favorite boots and my black velure jacket, and we were successful at having a grand time, even if the movie was a downer.

Today I'm back at work, writing emails and scheduling appointments, and wishing I could go home and take a snoozer since movie-girl night left me kinda sleepy this morning. Oh, and I didn't sleep well last night. I had crazy bad dreams about vampire hybrids (part I Am Legend diseased people, part 30 Days of Night vampires) chasing us and killing everybody that hubs and I hold dear, followed by a dream about hubs accidentally shooting me thinking I was breaking into the house (weird dream), followed by a dream about a tornado and a close call to a farmhouse that hubs and I apparently own out in middle of nowhere Oklahoma. All of these were very different dreams, but all had the recurring theme of MY IMPENDING DOOM. I have no idea what it all means... and quite assuredly, I don't really want to know. So, other than the fact that these dreams disturbed what otherwise would have been a peaceful night's sleep, I haven't given them a second thought today (well... maybe I haven't given them an eighth thought today - they were weird dreams, people).

Now I journey back from blog-world to works-for-a-living world to keep scheduling appointments and writing emails until the clock finally releases me from my responsibilies and sends me home where I am determined to dream of nothing but fields of daffodils all night long. So good day, people, and good night, too. Sweet dreams.

outside the box

2008-01-15T12:18:00.000-05:00

Not everybody can come face-to-face with a lion and live to tell about it. Good thing for me this one was made of stone.

Don't really want to be at work today. Funny how hard it is coming back after a sick day sometimes. It's not that I just want to lay around in my pajamas all day... well, yes. Yes it is. But, seriously, it's ok to be at work today. I need to be at work, it's good for me.

My coworker, Caty, keeps getting calls from South Korea. We don't actually know what the person is calling about because it is, in fact, in Korean. I think we decided this morning that it must be someone drunk dialing. Or perhaps a terrorist threat. Hmmm...

I had another slight vertigo spell yesterday. It wasn't as bad, but since there is nothing terribly pressing at work this week, hubs convinced me that resting and taking a little vertigo break would be the best idea. He was right... I feel much better today and am ready to get back to work. I like it when Hubs talks me into doing stuff that turns out to be really good for me, but that I never would have done on my own. He's so good for me!

K. I'm out now. See ya!

happy, happier, happiest

2008-01-11T14:38:00.000-05:00

Thinking can be good for me sometimes. Although often my pensive personality can drag me down by overthinking problems, there are times when thinking and reflecting can actually make me happy.

Take today, when I was mulling how much I hate the project I'm working on here at the office, and the phone rang. It was a couple looking to set up a premarital appt with temp boss. The guy on the phone was all nervous and excited and all those little emotions that newly engaged couples go through...

I hung up the phone after talking to him and smiled. What a great adventure he's heading for! Engagement was stressful for hubs and I, because we were trying to do too much (which is an all-to-common problem we have). But marriage... that's the best thing we've ever done. I was just emailing with hubs about just that. As tough as marriage is - even for newlyweds - with the petty disagreements over stupid stuff, and for hubs and I the first 6 months have brought my health issues and learning new ways to care for one another... but even with all of the tough stuff, marriage is very, very good. I can say without a doubt that my decision to marry hubs was the best, most rewarding decision I've ever made. He completes me, he leads me gently, kindly, and directly as the head of our household, and he totally cracks me up. We laugh together all the time. From the silly songs we sing in the car to the accidental goof-ups that both of us are prone to, we never go a day without laughter.

Funny, I thought I loved hubs when we got married 6 months ago... and I did... but so much more fully developed is that love now! I can't wait to see what we look like in 10, 25, 50 years. He's incredible - not perfect - but the best husband I could have ever dreamed of being blessed with.

breathing

2008-01-10T15:43:00.000-05:00

I'm taking a moment's break in the midst of chaos in which to collect myself before moving on to more of this week's insanity. It's one of those moments where I pause to wonder... could it really get worse from here? Surely at this point things can only start going up!

This has been the week from down under in regard to work, and a large program that I'm working on the last minute organization for before it kicks off (ready or not) on Monday at 6:30am. Since one of my beloved coworkers (and dearest friends) departed our hallowed halls last month in search of a job on the side of the Metropolis closer to her hubby, I have been given the arduous task of temporarily filling her shoes (on top of what I'm already doing here) until they hire a replacement for her. This in itself would be a great source of stress in the life of one already overwhelmingly busy. However, add to it the many things that have gone very, very wrong this week, and you have what I now am: stressed out and seriously considering walking out the door and not returning until next Tuesday - and then sticking my fingers in my ears and running away, screaming, every time anyone mentions the said program that is to begin on Monday. Childish? Yes. Effective? Possibly.

Things that have gone wrong this week:

Monday - I discovered that the two boxes of 45 workbooks (each) that are supposed to be in our closet over at the church had gone missing.
Tuesday - boxes were still missing, so I tore apart every single closet at the church searching, and, after turning up nothing in my 2 hour search, half-yelled, half-cried at the facilities director that if they weren't found by my 2pm meeting with my temp boss that I was going to get fired (which was not true, although it may have felt true). After this episode, I promptly discovered that the box of brochures (which was supposed to have arrived last Thursday), had still not been delivered. I then stormed off to my office where I called, for the third time in 2 days, the place that was supposed to deliver them and told them that if they couldn't deliver them by 1pm, I would come pick them up myself. They assured me that they could (and they did!). After I hung up the phone with them, I received a call from the facilites director that they had found the boxes - in a back storage building stuffed under about 20 other boxes. I resisted the urge to personally find and beat up the staff person who had asked that they be moved, and 1 1/2 hours later entered my meeting with temp boss - calm, cool, collected, as if everything was running smoothly.
Wednesday - Things were running smoothly, despite the 4 hours of meetings I sat through all afternoon. Then I lost my keys in the church building - the security guard found them. After that, I scheduled temp boss a meeting with a man named Bud Felker... but in telling him about it I mixed up my "u" and my "el" and wound up saying his name as... well... you can figure that one out. It was humiliating.
Thursday (today) - I sat down this morning to email the power point presentation, which was supposed to have been completed and left for me, to our A/V guys for setup, and discovered that the file would not open. After leaving that project with the already overloaded IT guy, I left to pick up the banners that were supposed to be hung today from the banner making place. Picked them up, took them to our facilities director, and promptly discovered that they were done WRONG. Mind you, these have to be hung in time for Monday morning. Since I had a lunch meeting that started while we were discovering this, the facilities director kindly offered to take them back to be redone after I gave him a desperate and pitiful look. Promptly after my lunch meeting, I picked up the box of brochures (same box that I was waiting for on Tuesday), filled the info racks, and walked out the church door only to step off the first concrete step and fall down the next 4, somehow managing to keep from spilling the contents of my box.

So that's where I am now, sitting at my computer taking a breather from the chaos... my toushy and back throbbing with the impact of concrete steps, trying to get that document to open so that I can save the presentation for Monday.

I need a margarita and a hot bubble bath when I get home.

a time of great rejoicing

2008-01-08T17:38:00.000-05:00

Regardless of what occurred on Friday, my doctor still elected to take me off the valium yesterday.

No more weird moody me. No more so exhausted when I wake up in the morning I want another night's sleep me. Instead, I have found new ways to keep myself exhausted all day, in the form of a temporarily adjusted job description at work. So now instead of being medicinally exhausted, I have reason. Which is, indeed, better.

Maybe someday I'll find a way to feel rested. But, then, I'm not sure I'd recognize that if it ever did occur. I'd probably go to the doctor thinking I was sick or something. In the meantime, praise the Lord for good news and a relief from the nasty medicine.

final exam?

2008-01-07T12:45:00.001-05:00

If that was my final exam I took on Friday, I think I might have to retake the class.

So here I am. It's been a year since the vertigo started, 6 months since I've been on the medications that have wreaked all sorts of havoc on my emotions and physical body. As of Friday, it was 3 months since my last vertigo spell. And in my mind and heart, I was doing so well with trusting the Lord. He healed me! He used the medication to make me well. The Lord was my rock, my strong shelter. I have a doctor's appointment at 1:30 today (Monday), and I was so confident that because of my 3 months of no vertigo on the meds that I was going to hear the glorious news that the meds are over.

At 8am on Friday morning, though, my world started spinning. Literally. I tipped my head back to kiss my sweet-n-handsome hubs goodbye as he left for work and my world came crashing down as I hit the bed in a wave of spinning nausea. I had a vertigo spell. It was short, probably no more than 30 seconds of spinning, but this hurled me into a 20 minute fit that could top even some of the most practiced 2 year olds. I screamed. I cried. I wailed into my pillow. I turned my teary, snotty-nosed face toward my hubs and whimpered pitifully, "Why now?" And I moped and pouted until I finally went back to sleep and slept off the spinny's before heading into work for a half-day.

Suddenly I realize how little I've learned. It's easy to jump up and down on the mountain top and praise the Lord when you feel like He's done for you exactly what you wanted Him to do. But when suddenly I realized that maybe what He's doing doesn't fit into the neat little category that I wanted it to then it dawned on me that I really didn't have it all straight, after all.

I remember when I was learning to drive, my Dad used to talk to me when I was going around curves. He would always say not to just hold the wheel in one direction, because that would often cause the car to go around the curve slightly off and you might wind up in the ditch. Nor should you make big movements on a curve, because that could cause you to lose control all together. Instead, as you go around the curve it's necessary to make little corrections all along the way.

Well, I just had to make a little correction, but that one little correction could have possibly determined the outcome of the curve for me. Lord, it's in your hands. Again. Even if you choose to not heal me, or to leave me on this horrid medicine for 6 more months, or whatever you decide, I'm once again reminded that this isn't about me. And I couldn't control it... even if I tried.

random details

2008-01-03T13:05:00.000-05:00

My coworker has walked by my office three times now, shook her head, and turned back to her office for what she has forgotten.

I just swallowed a cherry pit. Not on purpose, but I was so excited about the yummy cherries I was eating that I accidentally swallowed a pit. Now I keep wondering how that thing is going to pass through my system, and then I get grossed out and decide that I really don't want to know.

Our front desk receptionist sounds a little like the receptionist on Office Space, "Please hoooold..."

I had a rock in my shoe all morning. Caught in the heel of my boot where it is so worn down and hollow, and that rock rattled every time I took a step. I absolutely destroyed and mangled a large paper clip, but I finally retrieved the perpetrator and have found relief when I walk again.

The New Year brought a decision to diet (or really just to eat healthy and exercise more), a decision which I am actually pretty pumped about. Healthy food can be really good and fun. And I'm excited about the prospect of being skinnier.

The rest of my day would be far too boring if I tried to put it down on paper, so I will end there. At least you all got to share the fascinating parts with me (yes, I know that it is very sad that those are the fascinating parts of my day). Christmas was awesome, should have more details for you on that later. New Year is starting out very well, although it's a little bit of a drag to come back to work, mostly because I just liked being able to lay around the house and stay in my pajamas until 2pm. But the Lord has blessed me with work, and I must be grateful for the opportunity to earn money for such things as food, rent, and 2-for-1 DVD's at Amazon.com.

Happy New Year, folks, glad to have you along as I tell you the tale of my life in 2008.

last christmas

2007-12-07T11:34:00.000-05:00

Confession: I have listed to Wham!'s original version of Last Christmas about 12 times this morning. Not typically a George Michael fan... it's so frustrating that hemp smokin' gay men can write such fabulous songs.

Oh well. At least this year to save me from tears I gave my heart to someone special. haha

scene

2007-12-03T14:08:00.000-05:00

It's around 11:45pm. I'm almost asleep, hubs' breathing has just changed to the regular, long breaths of sleep...

Rat: Gnaw, gnaw, scratch, scritch, scurry scurry, gnaw
Me: Sigh
Rat: Gnaw, gnaw, scratch, scritch, scurry scurry, gnaw
Me: Hubs!
Hubs: (sleepily) Mmm?
Me: Are you awake?
Hubs: Mmmph
Me: Do you hear that?
Hubs: Yeah. Do you?
Me: (smirking heartlessly at my husband, who I just woke up) Of course I do. I asked you.
Hubs: What do you want me to do about it?
Me: I don't know, but it's keeping me awake.
Rat: Gnaw, gnaw, scratch, scritch, scurry scurry, gnaw (continuing ad nauseam)

Hubs bangs the heck out of the wall. Rat stops. We relax.
Rat: Gnaw, gnaw, scratch, scritch, scurry scurry, gnaw

Hubs bangs the heck out of the wall. Rat stops. We relax.
Rat: Gnaw, gnaw, scratch, scritch, scurry scurry, gnaw

Hubs bangs the heck out of the wall. Rat is no longer deterred by wall banging. Hubs stands up on the bed and bangs both fists on the ceiling directly under, presumably, Rat's little scratchy scritchy feet. We hear Rat scamper away. We both relax.

Hubs: I think that did it.
Me: Mmm hmm.
Rat: Scamper, gnaw, gnaw, scratch, scritch, scurry scurry, gnaw
Hubs: Fantastic.

Hubs stands up on the bed again and bangs both fists on the ceiling to the point I decide we've probably woken all our neighbors, but I don't care. By this time in the night I don't just want the thing to stop, I want the thing DEAD. Rat stops briefly, then resumes.

Hubs: I don't think he's going to stop.
Me: I know. I think I'm starting to go to sleep. Do you think he's going to chew through the ceiling tonight while we're asleep and then fall in on our heads in the middle of the night?
Hubs: No.
Me: Ummmm... Okay. (inner dialogue: Really? When is he going to chew through? How long does it take a rat to chew through a ceiling for the sole purpose of falling through the hole and landing on my head?)

Hubs and I fall asleep. As far as I know, Rat continues. I even dreamed about it a little.

The apartment people are trapping Rat today. So hopefully there will be a return to peaceful sleep at our apartment tonight.

insane?

2007-12-03T13:17:00.000-05:00

I think I have achieved a certain level of insanity. Seriously. How did I arrive at this conclusion? By analyzing my typical thought processes for a standard week.

On Monday I inevitably am at least 10 minutes late to work every week. This launches me into the decision that my boss is secretly unhappy with my entire work ethic and my performance on the job but is just too nice to say anything to me. Although verbal affirmation and my last performance review would, in fact, give me glaring (shouting?) evidence to the contrary, I still somehow convince myself of this... every week. Now and then, upon my conclusion of this I go home and say something of the sort to hubs, at which point he rolls his eyes and points out all the contradicting evidence, which makes me feel better about it until Tuesday morning, when I decide, again, that my boss does in fact not like me although he has given me no indication of this whatsoever.

Following this decision, I therefore convince myself that every one in the upper levels of the office are equally (if not more so) unhappy with me and are therefore trying to make me quit by pulling last minute projects for me to do and seeing if I can get them done in time so that a) if it's not done they can fire me or b) I'll get so fed up with last minute or strange huge requests that I'll quit. And then I remember that they treat everybody the same way. Maybe they hate us all equally and want us all to quit, but I doubt it. Especially since they are generally nice, kind people.

I combat this by often eating lunch in my office so I can work on non-work related things (such as blogging, as I'm doing now), and yet it gives me the "dedicated employee" feel as I refuse to leave my office to even eat. But then I convince myself that they are monitoring my internet activity ("Did she really just buy those herbal supplements on Amazon? I wonder what they're for...") and have discovered that I'm really not so dedicated that I refuse to leave my office for food but instead enjoy using my lunch break for personal gain. In fact, they are probably reading this post... I can picture them laughing as they read this post and rewind and watch again and again the image of me dropping mayonaise in my lap from the BLT that I'm eating right now that they recorded from the video surveillance camera they have, I am convinced, placed in my office.

Which leads me to my next point. Scott and I have recently acquired a rat in our attic with the coming of cold weather. We are working on having the vermin removed today. However, in the process of listening to him scratch and gnaw away at our ceiling, I started thinking that it could be a pervert who has moved into our apartment and installed little peep-holes all over our ceiling and is watching me do things like sit on the couch in my pajamas and play The Sims on our Xbox for two hours on Saturday (seriously, you know what I mean). Upon bringing this up to hubs, he rolled his eyes and said, "Yeah. I think it has definitely been a person gnawing on the ceiling." Hubs probably thinks that I gave up the idea that there is a person in our attic, because most normal people would. But don't forget my proposal... that I think I'm crazy. While I am convinced that people do not try to chew through the ceiling while we sleep at night, I still am slightly hanging out by the phone today waiting the call from the apartment people saying "Oh my gosh! There's a pervert in your attic!"

So considering the evidence, I think it's safe to say that I am crazy, even if at an indescernible level. The good news is, none of these things consume my thoughts, they are just passing whims in my subconscious that I frequently reopen in conscious thought (thank you Freud).

However, if you hear of a pervert living in the attic of a three story apartment complex in Dallas, I just want everybody to know that I was right.

out of material

2007-11-28T11:22:00.000-05:00

If you're wondering why I haven't written anything in a while, it's really not because I've been that busy, or because I didn't want to. It's simply because I'm out of material. I have nothing of interest to write as of now.

I guess I could bore ya'll with stories of Thanksgiving in Oklahoma, and how Scott and I were delayed a day because I got sick and we barely made it out to the family gathering in time to taste turkey (his family are carnivores. The veggies would be fine, but if we wanted turkey we had to be on time). Or of how I got to sleep in while he went hunting on Friday morning even though it was 20 degrees outside and I slept so good on that queen sized waterbed with all the blankets and the heat on while he froze his little toushy off in the deer stand and shot nothing (even the deer slept in because it was cold).

I could write about how Scott and I drove out to the back pasture in Daddy Henry's truck to button up the deer stand before we left and it was so cold that I had to wear Scott's camouflage insulated coveralls and he laughed at me and said I was adorable as I tried to walk in them. And how we stopped at the home of his great aunt and uncle who share the pasture with his grandparents, and who raise deer and have a pretty much thriving deer tick business in the process and she took me through the house (camouflage coveralls and all) to show me her 5 inside Christmas trees and her seven bookshelves of little Christmas villages and I had to think up something creative to say about each one...

Or I could write out our experience in McAlister, Oklahoma, on the way home when we stopped at Walmart and might have actually walked onto the set of Deliverance and been more comfortable, but we found an unfathomably good deal on pomegranates and quickly discovered why as we picked some out and held an impromptu class for an eager audience of no less than five on how to eat them.

For that matter, I could have written about the weekend and relaxing on Saturday and watching so much football and Sportscenter that even I know almost all of the NFL quarterbacks by name and could quote a lot of their stats by now. And how on Sunday Scott got drafted to play the piano for the service at his parents' church and we drove up for a second Thanksgiving with his parents and brother but his Dad got a bad viral infection so we wound up eating yummy Mexican food for our second Thanksgiving and then visiting his grandparents at the hospital where Maw is recovering from hip replacement surgery.

Lastly, I could have written about going to the Mavs game on Monday night and being sorely disappointed in their poor performance and subsequent loss, but greatly enjoying playing with Scott and my camera phone in the Dart train on the way home.

But I didn't write about any of those things. Because, honestly, I didn't think them blogworthy or interesting. Until now.

an upside

2007-11-19T15:42:00.000-05:00

Being newly married does have some pretty happy perks. Really far down on the list (but still on the list) is the one I encountered today.

Sitting here working at my desk, the phone rings. Some girl from Microsoft Online is on the phone wanting to do some sort of customer survey. Two years ago I signed up for a program through Microsoft Online for a former boss. After he left the office, I unsubscribed. They've been bugging me to reconsider ever since. Today was like every other, they start with a customer satisfaction survey and want to tell me of how they've improved and talk me into resubscribing. But today, first of all, she wants to verify that I am Bonnie Little. I said no. Haha. She asked me to transfer her, and I said "There is no one by that name working in this office any longer."

So I was technically telling the truth, because legally and marriedly (?) that isn't my name anymore. So being newly married and all that can, apparently, get you out of being stuck on the phone for 20 minutes telling somebody over and over that you don't have time for a survey. ;-)

thanks for the memories

2007-11-14T18:28:00.000-05:00

There is a certain song by a certain group that I heard on a certain radio station (certainly) this morning on my way to work. The song is called "Thanks for the Memories," and is about, in a word, promiscuity. Funny thing, I'd never really listened to the words until this morning. But now that I have it changed my view toward the song a little...

One thing it definitely made me think of, though, was my hubs. How much I appreciate his faithfulness to me, the way he loves me and treats me with respect. We may have our little squabbles from time to time, but it is without doubt that my hubs is made from solid gold. I can't imagine being married to anyone else, he's the love of my life. The way he has learned me in just these last almost 5 months of marriage, the way I have grown to love him even deeper through our short marriage months, it's all the beginning of the most wonderful adventure of my life.

I thank the Lord that He gave hubs to me. I will never forget the loneliness of single life, the times when no one was there. I will never forget the way that the Lord sustained me through my single years and grew me in ways that I could never have grown within marriage. But as I have started this next chapter, the Lord is growing me in even more new ways as I see my life completely differently through the lens of marriage.

So, Scott, I love you more than words could ever come close to describing. The way you look at me, the way you smile, your laugh... When you call me on the phone sometimes I close my eyes and just listen to the sound of your voice (just not while I'm driving. :-). I've loved these almost 5 months, and can't wait to see what unfolds in the days, weeks, months, years, and decades to come. I love you. We know what memories are really all about.

trying to catch up

2007-11-13T11:06:00.000-05:00

Life moves so fast, sometimes. It's almost the mid point of November already this year. Suddenly I look back and feel like I've missed most of it. From flying through the spring (although a lot of that was really fun) to just not feeling well from July until the present, it feels like I've been watching someone else's life happen around me. But yet, here I am, and in some ways it feels like I don't know how I got here. Does that make sense?

I woke up exhausted this morning. That's a pretty common occurance. About once a week I wake with the feeling that I can't get my body out of bed, that I'm just not going to make it through my day without a total physical or emotional break down. Yet I do. The Lord has been faithful to sustain me... if I could just remember His faithfulness on the difficult mornings I would feel much better. The mornings I wake with that swimmy headed feeling, the aching in my body, and the feeling that there are pounds of heaviness weighing down on me... I know it's going to be a difficult day.

So I search for the meaning, for I know and hold fast to my conviction that the Lord did not give me this for no reason at all. I struggle, but I try desperately to struggle well. As difficult as it may be, I am determined to struggle so that the Lord is glorified. What that looks like... well, I'm still figuring that one out. But at the end of this I want to be able to look behind me and say that I struggled and saw the Lord heap His love and mercy upon me. Because I know He is being merciful to me in this, however that may manifest itself.

defining moment

2007-11-06T16:49:00.001-05:00

Some moments you just know are going to change your life forever.

"Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work. If one falls down, his friend can help him up."

(Ecclesiastes 4:9-10a)

sweet memories of you

2007-11-05T11:52:00.000-05:00

To the One who has been with me from the earliest memories of my life, I am grateful. You have pursued me, guided me, protected me, and loved me since my birth. You selected me to be Your child since before the foundations of the world were set in place. You have bought me at a price that no one else would ever be willing to pay for one such as myself.

Yet I struggle. With my health of recent times, with my relationships from now and of old, and within my heart and mind I struggle against myself and against Your firmly gentle guiding hands. If I could only remember always the love of my Father. If I could only remember the ways in which you have used me, worked through me, developed Your attributes within me throughout all the struggles and mishaps of life. My current state of health annoys me. I grow weary so easily, I am discouraged with my fatigued and aching body. I rebel stubbornly against the pills in my medicine cabinet that hold hope of healing me. And worst of all, I glare out of my fatigued body and ask You why the first 4 months of my marriage have been so wrought with struggle. When others blissfully sail through (or so it seems from the outside), I have been given this fatigue and moodiness and vertigo, I have been made to rely on my new husband in ways I never imagined, and have seen him serve me so unselfishly. And yet I have also seen him struggle. Struggle against his desire to have a wife that is no longer physically hindered, a wife who laughs and plays like the woman he dated, the woman he proposed to, the woman he married. It hurts that I have caused my husband struggles. It hurts that I have struggled in myself.

But my memory is so short and my vision so limited. For if I were to look behind me, I would see Your fingerprints on this mould of life that is still shaping me - and Scott - to be the most detailed and intricate images of Christ who is in us. I would see last year and the Lyme disease that Scott suffered and the fear of MS or cancer or permanent paralysis that You saw us through and refined us so carefully to love one another most deeply and to know You more fully. I would see the master's degree that I sweated and cried and poured my heart and energy into and finally completed, not because of any work on my part but because You gifted me and stretched my mind and awarded me a degree at the end - but I received so much more than a degree from You.

If I looked back, I would see years of hurt, happiness, ups and downs. But if I really looked back, what I would see is You. Not a tear has fallen from my eyes that You have not seen, no sigh has escaped my lips that You have not heard. You have been there for the days where I have laughed so hard I cried streams of joyful tears, and for the days where I cried so hard that the tears could no longer come. You have been there for the days where I have fallen on my face in worship, and the days where I have thrown the selfish tantrums of a 2 year old when I didn't get my way. And You have used it all. You have worked through everything and made me who I am, right now.

So I struggle with my current circumstances, but if I were to examine them clearly what I would see is not a body that is flawed, but Your merciful love that is not satisfied with me as I am right now. This is not about me and my health, but about You, and Your desire to see Your Son in me. Bring it on, Mighty Father, I look at my current struggles with fear and trembling in my heart, which tells me all the more that this struggle is needed. Heal me if You desire, but open my eyes most fully that I might see Your glory made perfect in my weakness.

responsibility sucks

2007-10-24T11:10:00.000-04:00

Yeah, I know. I'm all grown up and married and stuff, but that doesn't mean that I have to like it all of the time. Take last night as a classic example. My greatest ambition for last night involved putting my jeans on so Scott could take me to Freebirds for a burrito since I didn't have the energy to cook.

This last weekend was our department retreat which I organized and helped execute, and it went well. The topic was on work ethics, and doing everything as unto the Lord - even when you hate your job. So, I don't hate my job, but sometimes I do hate responsibility. I find it excruciatingly difficult at times just to drag myself out of bed, clothe my body, and get to work. And then when I get home at night... who wants to do more? Hmmm....

So this really isn't a gripe session, but merely a voicing of what I've been pondering for the past few days since the retreat. How does one "work as if unto the Lord" when one has no desire to do anything? I'm not saying this is an all the time deal for me, but it is frequent.

I know that the Lord is worshipped even when we are at rest, but sometimes I wonder (and I will send this out into the void, I suppose), where is the line between slothfulness and truly resting as unto the Lord?

recovering workaholic

2007-10-18T09:36:00.000-04:00

There is something greatly different about this fall. I got married. Now I know all of you are like, "Duh! We were there and half of us were in the wedding. We know already!" - but wait. I don't mean I was the bride in a wedding, we all know that. What I am talking about is in the marked and almost immediate difference that I discovered in myself come the busyness of the fall work schedule at the office.

I used to be single. Although I was consumed in the off hours with studying and finishing up that M.A. (BTW - I find it ironic that the diploma I worked so hard for is now sitting on top of a stack of bill stubs that need to be filed in the corner of our guest room... hmmm), I was single. I worked constantly, in fact, just about anyone who knew me very well at all could describe me as a workaholic. My boss used to have to tell me to go home. I would work, and work some more, and then go home to my empty apartment, eat a bowl of cereal, and watch Nick-at-Night while I wrote a paper. And then I'd get up the next morning to do it again. ("Hi, I'm Bonnie. {hi bonnie} I'm a workaholic. My last email was 2 hours and 13 minutes ago...")

This pattern was especially obvious this time of year, when we have a Fall Retreat this weekend and a bunch of stuff going down in the assimilation department and I'm starting to see the list of responsibilities reach all the way to the floor. But I'm different this year than I ever have been. I walk whistling out the door at 5:05 most nights while my coworkers stare after me in shock. I go home to my sweet husband, share dinner with him, and lay on the couch with my head in his lap while we talk about our days or watch TV. I leave things behind me at work that need to get done and do them the following day, or I just tell people that I can't because I need to spend time with my husband.

I realize that this is an ironic post for today, considering that I was here in the office until 8:30 last night, but that is the exception, not the norm. In fact, I can't remember the last time that I worked past 6pm. I think it's very interesting to watch how God works within us, changing our priorities and putting His things first. It's amazing, I never thought I would be able to say this but...

Sorry people. You'll have to give it to somebody else to get done. The workaholic has gone home.

peppermint tea and toilet paper...

2007-10-03T10:23:00.000-04:00

Not only is this not my typical ramblings of a theological, thoughtful sense that you have come to expect from my blog, but I also have my own break today as I sit at home nursing the effects of a bad sinus infection on my body.

So here I sit, it's pouring down rain outside my windown as I'm propped up on the couch with the pillows from our bed, watching old sitcom reruns with a roll of toilet paper (we're out of kleenex) at my right hand and a cup of hot peppermint tea at my left.

Sick days are terrible and wonderful, all at the same time. Too bad we can't have sick days when we're well!

expelled?

2007-09-28T15:14:00.000-04:00

Funny thing showed up in the NY Times yesterday. An article about evolution vs. intelligent design. It originates from Ben Stein's movie, set for a February release, Expelled. What fascinates me is the stir this has caused in the scientific community, all about a movie from a man who claims to be undecided on the debate. Read the full article here.

So here is the deal. Why does the science community immediately react whenever God is thrown into the picture? What is their aversion to Him, after all? Suddenly everyone is denying that they said what they are on tape saying, that they have been misrepresented, etc. (I must point out here that they should know, since they continuously misrepresent and muddy the opposing side, exactly how such things are achieved). Seriously? They may have been. They may have been "tricked" into going on the record for a project that they weren't intending to comment on. And if so, that is wrong, whether or not they do that to others all the time or not.

But also, I think it fascinating that the word "God" sparks such action and reaction from the science community. There is no room in the science world for God or any other possible truth besides what they have convinced themselves (by faith) that they will believe. And anything that would seek to deny their belief system, or even question it, is suddenly attacked from all sides of their community. What do they have to hide? Whether it be under the mask of misrepresentation or not, the science community's reaction to such things is always predictable. There is no openness to other views, or even the consideration of other views, from the evolutionary standpoint at all. What makes it more humorous is that this movie, which is being so strongly contested, is about just that. It's not about supporting intelligent design in the classroom, but ironically it's about showing how the science community is closed to any other belief but their own. Ben Stein believes that the two beliefs should both be presented in the classroom as "alternatives" to each another... a thought which I must say I find not half bad, at all.

I'll close my opinionated ramblings with a quote from Dr Eugenie C. Scott in the NY Times article, who fears that the movie will portray the scientific community "as intolerant, as close-minded, and as persecuting those who disagree with them. And this is simply wrong." Is it, Dr Scott? Can anyone show me proof that the scientific community is open to alternatives to evolution? For a community who say that they rely entirely upon evidence and not faith to support their beliefs, I'm afraid there is very little supporting evidence to their open mindedness to the intelligent design belief system.

getting touchy about touching

2007-09-27T12:29:00.001-04:00

Scott and I attended a marriage retreat this last weekend which covered the five love languages, as "discovered" by Gary Chapman. Quality Time, Words of Affirmation, Acts of Service, Giving of Gifts, and Physical Touch. As always, I of course came out screaming physical touch as the strongest of my love languages in our 35 question "diagnostic" test. It's been that way for as long as I can remember. Save your words and give me a hug. When I was a little girl I used to crawl up in my Daddy's lap and sit there for hours or just lean on him while he watched football. Or I'd go find Mom and tell her not to just give me a "hug," I need a "big hug."

However, in America this can be the curse of all curses to have for a love language. We are just not a touchy people. My first month of living alone in Dallas, attending classes at seminary and working in a brand new environment where I knew no one, proved to be one of the loneliest times of my entire life. It wasn't for lack of attention, people at work and school talked to me a lot. They even did things for me and gave me little welcome gifts. They took me out for lunch. But nobody hugged me. Nobody gave me a pat on the back. Nobody played with my hair as we sat in the floor and watched movies, or gave me a foot rub as my best friends and I used to always do. I didn't mind living alone, I enjoyed it even, but I missed coming home to my college roommate, Kara, and she would play with my hair as I talked about my day. In fact, the third week of my new life in Dallas I came home on a Friday night and wept until I had no more tears, because no one had touched me in weeks.

This is already making many of you uncomfortable. We're not supposed to need touch like that. Because somehow our culture has figured out a way to take something as loving and special and innocent as physical touch and dirty it with sexual connotation. I'm not talking about sexual touch. There is such a huge difference between the two. Yes, I'm serious. Those of us who have the love language of physical touch can explain it so clearly to you. Because having the love language of physical touch does not mean we have an insatiable hunger for sex. Instead, it means that we feel the most loved when someone physically says "I support you." or "I think you are special." It means that we can walk by a billboard that says "You are wonderful" and feel nothing, but we can walk into a room where a close friend puts their arm around your shoulders or fluffs your hair playfully and says nothing, and suddenly we feel loved, appreciated, and special.

All this to say, I've always loved the passages in Scripture that talk about touch. The Jewish people were a touchy people. I think I could have done well as a Jew. "Greet one another with a holy kiss." It's all over Scripture, whatever happened to that, anyway?

Jesus touched everybody. He touched little kids and held them in his lap. He touched his disciples (can't you just picture him putting his hand on Peter's shoulder to gently hold him back from saying the first thing that popped into his head, like he always did?), he touched his friends Mary and Martha, and he touched when he healed. So many accounts of him touching peoples eyes, faces, hands, while he's healing. Mark 1:40-45 records possibly one of my favorite accounts of Jesus' touch... when he healed the leper, but touched him before he healed him. Nobody touched lepers. They were unclean. But Jesus touched him, because he loved him. Can you imagine what it felt like to a leper who hadn't been touched in all of his diseased years to feel the warmth of Jesus' hand upon his withered skin?

I heard a story the other day about a young lady who was in the hospital in great pain, on morphine. A nurse came in to change her bandages, and the lady began to weep loudly. The nurse went to increase her morphine drip, but the lady just cried louder. Finally, the nurse asked her if she wanted some water or something for the pain. "Can you please hug me, instead?" the girl cried. The nurse put her arms around her, and began coming in and hugging her every day. In a matter of weeks, the young lady was off of morphine completely.

Yet with all of this, it is still hard for us as Americans to touch. This is bad. Christians, we need to be supporting each other with words, actions, and a firm hand on the shoulder, a hug, a pat on the back, a high-five. What could it hurt? The culture around us is crying out for touch... where do you think the sex obsession originates? (I know, it's more than touch, but that is also a central key!) Come on, we're the body of Christ. And bodies are created for touch.

I'll go ahead and speak up. I need touch. Not just from my hubby, but also from the body. I need that pat on the shoulder, that little supportive hug now and again. And if I need it, I know there are so many more out there who do, to, but are afraid to say because it has somehow become a sensitive issue in today's America. But we need to be touched, loved, appreciated. So let the touching commence, without shame, for we are all brothers and sisters in the bond of Christ, and he touched people. Isn't that reason enough?

So, someday I will have the privilege of walking into the arms of my Lord, my Savior will enfold me in his loving and merciful arms which bear the scars of the wounds he endured for my benefit, and I will receive the greatest hug I've ever known. Until that day, I will look to the Body to be the arms of Christ.

mortifying mortality

2007-09-21T15:16:00.000-04:00

I feel very mortal today. Maybe it's the lack of sleep as I sat up until 3am watching HGTV and wishing on every star in the sky that I could fall into a deep sleep. Maybe it's the struggles I see in the faces of the people around me: the coworker who bears the marks on her body of the radiation for breast cancer that she is currently undergoing; maybe it's the two friends who have been trying to get pregnant for over a year and feel more discouraged with every false test; maybe it's the other coworker who is in Tennessee holding her non-Christian mother's hand as she slips from her current coma into the next life - one that my dear friend knows will bring her mom into eternal judgment for her stubborn determination to hold her own life away from her Savior's hands; or the friends of a friend that just lost their little baby boy completely unexpectedly when they went in for a routine C-Section; or maybe it's just because I feel my mortality in my aching, tired body today.

I was helping the girl that offices next to me prepare the church for a funeral today, and I realized how accustomed we all become with death. Until it directly affects us - the loss of a loved one or a diagnosis that suddenly brings our inevitable doom to light - we have a tendency to not think much of death, or meditate on it, at all. How many times have I heard - "Joe Somebody died last week. So sad." In the hallways or even from my own lips. But we all know we're headed in that direction, hopefully at an old age, but that is not promised to us at all and it would be presumptuous of us to suppose it.

So, should we meditate on death as I earlier mentioned? What is to be gained of it? I certainly don't think we should let our minds be preoccupied with our death or that of our loved ones to the point that we cling more tightly and live less freely under the bondage of our own mortality. But I also don't think we are ever meant to live our lives as though we are not mortal. Christians are especially bad about this. We're going to heaven, anyway, so why think about our end - or even - the end is just the beginning! True. But it must remain that we have only one earthly life. This is it. We may have eternal life, but we are not immortal. We'll never get this mortal one back. And nothing in Scripture ever says that God takes our mortal lives lightly in context of our eternal lives. If that were the case, then He would give us no instruction and show no concern for the sanctification of our mortal selves if He ever intended us to blithely slip our way through this life on earth. With Christ as our example, we have a responsibility to take this life very seriously.

I ramble for what purpose? Merely to re-route us to where we began. If we are to take our lives seriously, then it is necessary from time to time to understand and meditate on the mortal nature of this life. It occurs to me that, in a way, to live life in light of our eternity with God is also in part to live life in light of our impending death. This is all we have on this earth, these relationships that we make will be the only fallen relationships that we will experience. Let's get everything out of them that we can. Let's be the Body, encourage one another, cry with one another, be quick to confront sin, quick to forgive sin, and even quicker to love sinners. None of us are immortal before our death. It's one of life's best equalizers. And, most of all, let's teach and learn from each other how to be mortal Christians, because that's what we are.

I rambled on for a while... to get some thoughts out there, and to clear my head. But, as always, with the hope that possibly something that I'm going through and struggling with will have the benefit of touching someone else. My thoughts and struggles aren't private, because I know they're not new with my experience of them. We are all in this together, let's continue the conversation with each other as long as we're given breath.

I live today in light of my mortality, and yet, come quickly, Lord Jesus.

9/11 - forgotten

2007-09-11T10:43:00.000-04:00

It's been six years since the day that I woke up at 8am in my dorm room, the clock radio blaring loudly, my roommate, Kara, stirring in the bunk above mine. On the radio was a calm sense of pandemonium, if such a thing can exist, as the announcers were trying to remain calm. "We're under attack, people, New York City is under attack!" I shot up, Kara said, "I think it's a commercial..." But I had already turned on the television. Every channel showed the same thing, a shot of the twin towers of the WTC, and smoke billowing from a large hole in the one on the left. Panic. Kara started crying, while I ran to the window in a brilliant move of selfish motivation to see if anything was going on in downtown Dallas. No, to the world outside our dorm it was a day like any other, but our television told a story of a world that would never again be quite the same as it once was.

Ya'll all know how that went down: the second tower was hit, we all sat glued to the television and watched as the building smoked and smoldered, people jumped to their death from 80 stories in the air, and, finally, the building collapsed under the weight and a white cloud of smoke, ash, and building fragments covered the city like a sheet being spread over a corpse after she drew her final breath. But it was all of our hearts that stopped. As I left the dorm that morning and stepped out onto the pavement in the Texas September heat wave, the first thing that hit me was the silence. Dallas Baptist University is on the direct flight path for DFW airport, and there was never a moment where the distant sounds of flights coming and going wasn't echoing through the sky. Yet this day would forever be known to the students of DBU not only as 9/11 but as the day without planes. It was the silence and stillness of death out there.

What followed was just like everybody else experienced on that day. Grief, stricken faces, students wandering around calling all the loved ones they knew to ascertain the impact of the attack in NYC. Special chapels, classes cancelled, etc, etc, etc.

But now, 6 years later, I woke this morning and stumbled groggily out of bed, clothed my body and kissed my sleeping husband goodbye as I headed off to work, and on the radio I heard a DJ mention the memory of 9/11 briefly while he's transitioning between songs. So it's just 6 years. How short our memories are, how quickly we return to living in confidence that the Lord has given us tomorrow, and that we and our loved ones will be safe.

I'm not advocating that we live in fear, I just wanted to spark thought. In this current time of politicians vying for next year's presidential election, the war in Iraq has become a hot topic. It's been proclaimed stale, we're not gaining anything from that war... etc. But who on the campaign trail this year is proclaiming, "I will avenge the lives lost and the humiliation to our country that was suffered on 9/11." Where is the leader who is willing to lead the people into a place of remembrance, and place where they are able to recognize what this country has been through, and how close we are, daily, to going through that again? Osama just sent us a tape. He's scoffing in our faces and spitting at us in disgust. But as long as he keeps it from directly affecting us, we're ok. If he attacks again, it will be "bring out the big guns and hunt him down, we'll kick his turban-headed ass." (pardon the language). But give it six years, and America will be shown, again, for what she truly is. A country full of selfish whiners who take interest only in what directly affects them and their loved ones.

Ok. I'm rambling now. But the truth here that I'm driving at is that we call the war a hot button issue and a huge topic for the next election, but we have forgotten. The war is not the issue; it's what started the war that should be the focal point of where we are desiring to go as a country. We were threatened, we were penetrated. And the guy that did it hasn't been caught, yet. That would never fly in next week's episode of CSI, would it? Let's just not be so quick to forget six years ago, because it holds the context for the decisions we make next year as we select the next leader of our country. Is the guy going to be concerned with pleasing a whining, forgetful people, or is he concerned with protecting their safety from a parasite who will not be finished sucking out our blood and resources until he is finally eradicated? Perhaps our next president should not be elected solely on the basis of his vision for the future of our country, but also for his memory of her past.

criticism in discernment's clothing

2007-08-30T10:58:00.000-04:00

So, a recent trip to a chiropractor who I would love to describe as "cooky" - to say the least - landed me in a puddle of thought for the moment. I am a highly discerning person. Just ask me, because I've told myself that time and time again. My first reaction to any new thought, especially in (though not limited to) theological circles, is to scoff first, question later, and reluctantly admit a limited amount of fault if, indeed, I am wrong. Open-minded is about the furthest thing from a description of me that you could get.

Of course I'm not saying that this is wrong. I can happily inform you that I have never been swayed from the truth by a passing whim or occultic breeze, but at times I have been woefully slowed from my sanctification by my unwillingness to lend myself to where the Lord is seeking to grow me.

I guess the heart of the issue, the meat of my struggle, lies in finding the line between critical negativity and true, biblical discernment. Beyond any doubt, it is necessary in this fallen world to weigh heavily the ideas and values expressed in the many different worldviews that are prevalent in our culture. In a postmodern time of everyone doing what they think is right(hmmm... doesn't that sound a lot like the end of Judges?). I mean, how many times does Paul tell us to be discerning, to be wary of false teachers, etc? We must be discerning, knowing what we believe and being able to recognize deceptive and false teaching when we hear it. But is there a point at which we can become too critical?

I find myself often blasting a good, Bible-believing pastor or teacher because they said one thing that might not completely align itself with what I believe. This is bad. BUT, I make no apology for my willingness to "test the spirits" (1 John 4:1) and to flag a false prophet when I see one and am scripturally convinced of his deception. As Christians, we should be incessantly concerned with demonstrating purity of God's holy and inerrant word. Preach the Word, without additives.

Ok, so I diverge and ramble a bit. All to say, I struggle with finding the line between being discerning of the false doctrines that exist in multitudes, and being closed off in heart and mind to the true work of the Spirit in the world. My chiropractor is still a goofy wackadoo, and will remain such. He's theologically just flat wrong. But it did spark a good inner dialogue, and an opportunity for self-examination on things spiritual and internal is never bad.

unconditional love

2007-08-20T17:05:00.001-04:00

(A short story I composed in August, 2005, while studying church history)

He has come here with her in mind. Seeking a bride, the pure, spotless virgin He desires. But the woman He has sought has forgotten the imminence of His return. Although she is marked for His husbandship, the ring of His engagement sealed on her left hand, she whores herself before His very eyes and prostitutes herself on every pleasure that flatters her. She rebels wildly against the Love of her life, the purity of her spotless Groom. The Man she loves so deeply, she despises with her actions and her thoughts. She wars against the deepness of His love, the penetration of His desire for her, and the purity of His patience.

When He comes for her, will she respond to Him? Is she so caught in her lusts and passions that she will not recognize the Lover of her youth? Will she anticipate the One of whom it is said, “Behold, He is coming, climbing on the mountains, leaping on the hills! My beloved is like a gazelle or a young stag. Behold, He is standing behind our wall, He is looking through the windows, He is peering through the lattice.” (Song of Songs 2:9)? He longs to find her waiting, yearning for Him the way that He does for her. He looks at His bride, whom He bought. Her price was His very life, which He considered no price too high for the bride of His desire. He looks at her with love, He sees in her a virgin bride, not the prostitute of worldly loves. She is lovely to Him.

The bride mourns over her indiscretions. She longs to present herself to her Groom, she trembles at the knowledge of His coming. Although she has followed her flesh down the path of destruction, into the beds of lesser men, she longs for her Lover with an unquenchable fire. For His hold was her body created, for His pleasure was her life preserved. She cries out for Him, “On my bed night after night I sought Him whom my soul loves; I sought Him but did not find Him.” (Song of Songs 3:1) Though many men have known her, only One will fill her and complete her. Only then will her joy be made full, when she is resting in the arms of her Lover.

He seeks her now. The Groom patiently pursues His bride. He is waiting to return to her, as she is being perfected and made beautiful. Although she will never be worthy of Him, she will stand before Him on their wedding day, the most beautiful of all brides, glowing in the presence of His glory. For it is He who makes her beautiful. Without Him she is nothing but a common whore, but in His presence she shines from His glory, reflecting His love in her eyes. He has purified her by His purity. And on their wedding day He will look upon the bride of His choosing and say, “You are altogether beautiful, My darling, and there is no blemish in you. “ (Song of Songs 4:7)

identity as an act of submission

2007-08-08T14:44:00.000-04:00

Marriage does strange things to a person. It brings up thoughts that you've never thought before, highlights sin patterns that have remained unnoticed (or even dormant) waiting for the perfect opportunity to attack your spouse (sometimes seemingly completely apart from your own will!), and many other strange phenomena that you never knew you were capable of. But it can also bring to the forefront spiritual applications that were never evident until marriage drew such clear correlations for you.

One of these that has become abundantly clear to me is that of identity. Especially as that for a bride. I've had something of an identity crisis for the last few weeks as I abandon the last name I've known since birth (and been able to spell since I was 16) for a new last name, that of my husband. While I am greatly excited by this new life, and the symbol of that life being the abandonment of my last name for his, it incited feelings I never expected. Feelings of loss, even a little grief, frustration... at times I look at my new name spelled out on a work document or such and think "who is that person???" In some ways I desire to cling to the safety of that old last name, as I've known myself as that person for so long.

The struggle I've been experiencing called to mind a deeper struggle of identity that I've faced (and am facing), as are many of you. That of the transition into being the Bride of Christ. 1 Corinthian 5:17 says, "Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!"

Abundantly good words, packed with meaning for those of us who have surrendered our lives to Christ. We have died to the old self and been reborn as someone entirely new, a member of Christ's church, His very bride. Along with that, we have changed our "name," we are no longer associated with that life of sin we lived but now have a new life which was given to us by Christ. We now have Christ's family name. Just like I now, in the physical sense, have Scott's family name.

This creates an identity crisis like no other. Christ asks that we no longer be associated with that old "family" that we were born into, the family of sin, but to instead take on His family and His name. And just like taking Scott's name, my taking Christ's name is an act of submission.

I submit to my husband, and the outward symbol of that submission is my being called a Mitchell. I am under his headship, I look to him above anyone else on earth for my spiritual and physical guidance. He has given me his name, and I willingly follow him.

Christ has chosen me as his bride, and He has given me His name as a Christian. I submit to Him willingly, and He conforms me into His family. Now, if I could just stop holding on to the name I was born with...

a great disappointment

2007-08-01T11:10:00.000-04:00

Forgive me the highly depressing nature of this post. But what do you do when your Christian walk and your life disappoints you? Seriously, we all have times when that happens, it's just taboo when we actually say it. Well, I'm not afraid. I'll say it.

I'm disappointed. In myself, in the current dry state of my walk with the Lord, and with what I expect out of my Christian life.

It seems that we always have great ability to look at our healing bodies or our new cars our big paychecks and say, "The Lord has blessed me." But what about the body that won't heal, the exhaustion that won't go away, the frustration that sees no quenching? What about when I'm an emotional wreck and am driving everyone around me, including myself, insane?

It's at times like these, when I feel no comfort, when I take no joy away from my times in the Word, when it feels, truly, like God is far away and unconcerned with my struggling self, that I turn and realize that I feel like God has let me down. Right now, I want to enjoy my new marriage. I want to be happy and flirty and healthy. But that's not what God has given me and I resent it.

But I don't deserve that. I can tell my spoiled self that God has forgotten me, or I can open up my eyes and realize that I don't deserve to have my health and my joy restored. I don't deserve to even live. I have sinned, horifically, and I deserve the punishment of eternal death. Tortuous, arduous, painful, death. But that's not what I've gotten. I've been shown mercy, forgiveness, love like I will never really understand.

So here I am, and for now I'll remain. Caught somewhere in the middle between my knowledge of what God has done for me, that I am truly blessed beyond comprehension, and the emotive response of my heart to feel frustrated and angered that I cannot have what I want right now.

For now, there is my emotional vomit. The depths of my soul spilled out, a little child whining because she cannot get what she wants... and yet I still seek fervently the answer to it all, the ability to praise right now when it seems impossible, and a chance to live a faith that seems numb. Lord give me strength for the next 5 minutes, and then I'll worry about what comes after that.

my vaporous existence

2007-07-26T12:00:00.000-04:00

Ironically this post follows the only other little blidget that I have posted on this blog, an introductory statement written almost a year ago when this cathartic outlet was first conceived.

Which becomes obviously ironic as I explore the depths of my thinking from the past couple of days. Inasmuch as I could often be described as introspective and introverted, I still struggle with my lack of true, deep soul searching. It is very easy for me to trudge along through life's highs and lows never even giving thought to the essence of my existence. I just keep going through the motions of worship, even meditation on God and His grace toward me, and the motions of everyday monotony that makes up the majority of our existence. Truth be told, at the end of one's life who can really look back and say that every day, month, year, decade was made up of endless exciting and memorable days? Instead, having been exposed often to discussion with those who are looking at their inevitable and impending demise (years of nursing home ministry and a short stint of work for a local hospital have lended my ear in that direction), I would have to concur that most of one's life is instead made up by years of monotony climaxing in little "spurts" of the exciting and memorable.

So all of that to say... what? Not the usual "I want my life to be different, to count for something," but instead, what if I were to say that the monotony counts for something? Perhaps God did not design us for incessant memorable moments, but instead had a greater purpose in mind for the monotony. Why else would Ecclesiastes abundantly comment on the vanity of life? Yet still the grace and goodness of God prevails in that uber depressing document.
The point remains that from the cradle to the grave there exists in the human spirit a need to "make something of themselves" or "make life count." If I had more money, or was famous, or wrote a best-seller, or lost weight, then people would notice me. But instead, have we ever considered that life is "vanity" and "vaporous" because God has designed our fallen humanity to be nothing more than that? How many times in Scripture is it reiterated that the value in our lives is not what we do (in fact, isn't our righteousness as filthy rags?) but instead lies in our identity, those who have been called since before the foundations of the earth and have, as such, been found "in Christ" for all of eternity? ETERNITY!

So what is the key to holding loosely to our vaporous existence while holding onto our self-worth? Jesus' brother gives us the scoop in his letter, James 4:13-16, "Come now, you who say, 'Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit.' Yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, 'If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.' As it is , you boast in your arrogance. All such boasting is evil."

James is not telling us to live depressed lives, fearing death and every bend in the road and making no plans on the assumption that we will all die very soon. No, quite the opposite. He is instead spurring us on to the realization that our existence is much more than what we are doing today, or tomorrow, etc. Our existence lies in the hands of our Creator and Sustainer. Far more than making our lives count for something, he's showing that our lives were already made to count for something. And that far outweighs the actions of a vain a vaporous life.

So, Lord willing, next week I will post again.

in the beginning

2006-08-03T18:42:00.000-04:00

There were thoughts. Mulitudes of thoughts in my mind, needing a creative outlet. I had many ways of keeping up with friends and loved ones, emails, blog site, etc. Yet here my creativity and communication collide to generate this blog, a place for random postings of a different sort, those of stories and pennings of things which I value and hold most dear.