Delicious Ambiguity

So I'm Thinking...

2011-05-03T13:47:00.000-04:00

Anyone who knows me well know that whatever is about to follow that statement is a disaster waiting to happen. Not so much things like, “So I’m thinking, since the oven is on fire we should do something about it.” Those are good thoughts. Or, “So I’m thinking, since Ann Taylor Loft is having a 95% off EVERYTHING sale we should leave work early and GO!” Those are GREAT thoughts.

The thoughts that I’m talking about are the ones that rip into my self esteem, threaten to destroy my relationships, and rob my hope. These are thoughts that cause me to question what I know is true. They make me act in a manner I’m not often proud of and they are nearly always, ALWAYS false.

Always.

And more often than not, they end up hurting whomever it is I’m having those “thoughts” about. I’m not saying I have some random thought about someone and then proceed to run around telling others what I’m convinced is true, rather I have the thought, I’m convinced it’s true and to cut to the chase, I destroy a relationship – or at least come close to destroying it.

Always.

So I’m thinking this is NOT a good way to live. (Another example of a GOOD thought). What I don’t know, is how to NOT do it, how to NOT have those thoughts, or if I do, how to not REACT to those thoughts, believe they are true, plot my course of action based on those thoughts.

Prayer is the obvious answer. Lots and lots of prayer. For me, though, I need to go deeper, I need to figure out why I do this and I really, honestly and truly, want to stop. Or at least figure out a much better way to deal with these thoughts.

I don’t have any answers right now. But I’m starting to unpack these thoughts and slowly organize them. I honestly welcome any advice or thoughts about how to go about this. I’ve already been told it’s a life-long, never-ending battle (yeah…) but I’m convinced something’s gotta be better than living like this.

Touched by an Angel

2010-11-16T12:41:00.000-05:00

Over the weekend I had a chance to help feed over 400 homeless people in downtown Columbia. And while I could probably write for days about what I saw and experienced and the people whose lives touched me, probably the two people who had the greatest impact on me weren't homeless. Nor were they part of the group from my church that was down there serving. Honestly, I'm completely convinced, they were

Angels.

And not your typical angels either. They didn't come floating in with wings. There were no halos or long flowing white clothes. Rather they drove up in a completely pimped out Lexus: heavily tinted windows, chrome wheels, laser lights and LOUD music.

Angels, I'm telling ya.

They parked close to the area where we were setting up and I just happened to be the closest person to them. When they got out, I must admit, I was scared. For those of you who may not know this, I lived in the highest crime rated section of Orange County, FL, for several years (by choice, FYI). Drug dealers, prostitutes, homeless folks and the like were the norm in front of our house. After the first month or so, gun fire no longer made me flinch. These two men, however, terrified me. I instinctively moved to the closest male person I could find for protection - so what if it was a short little Asian man with no teeth. I was scared.

They stood by their car for a few moments, looking like they were checking out lay of the land, then walked around to the back of the car and opened the trunk. Everyone had stopped what they were doing and, as if we had practiced, we all took two steps back.

Mommie!!

All eyes were focused on these two men. No one moved for what seemed like an eternity. The only sound was the music coming from their car. Finally the men walked out from behind their car caring the largest roasted turkey I've ever seen. They brought them over to where we were, set them down and went back for more. For the next 10 minutes these two men kept bringing out more and more food. Easily tripling what we already had. They had turkey, ham, numerous casseroles, and it just kept coming.

Angels.

When they were done, they stood on the edge of the crowd (none of us had moved), told us thank you for what we were doing and that they loved us. They turned, got back in their car and sped off. Three hours later when we had fed everyone and had virtually no leftovers, someone remarked, had it not been for those two men, we would have never had enough food. We wouldn’t have even come close. But because of those two strangers, not one person left there hungry.

Angels.

"Don't forget to show hospitality to strangers, for some who have done this have entertained

angels without realizing it!" (Hebrews 13:2)

I admit I wasn't very hospitable to those men. And I learned my lesson. I am completely convinced that they were angels. No one knew them. Even the guy who organized all the food and donations had no idea who they were. They came. They gave. They left.

Angels.

Everyone Needs Hope

2010-11-15T10:00:00.001-05:00

Everyone should have Hope in their life. I love this girl. She is such a blessing to me. The tears and joy this card brought to my life is beyond description.

Thank you, God, for creating such an amazing, beautiful and wonderful creature. Thank you for allowing me to play a tiny role in her life.

Happy Monday, y'all.

It's All In The Preparation

2010-11-10T14:30:00.002-05:00

I love Christmas. I don’t mean I think it’s a cool time of year and I enjoy it, I mean I L.O.V.E. CHRISTMAS. The sights, smells, music, weather, lights, food – you name it, I love it.

Love it.

Right about now, I start getting my house ready to be consumed by the joyous day. I wash my mom’s china and pack it away to make room for my Christmas china (yes, I have Christmas china!). All of my normal chatski stuff is given a good dusting/cleaning and put away until January 1. I clean, wash, rearrange, condense, make lists, check those websites that leak the Black Friday ads, start playing Christmas music (actually that started November 1) and basically spend the middle two weeks of November getting ready to usher in the most wonderful time of the year.

Love it, I tell ya!

This morning as I was trying to squeeze 1 more minute of packing my mom’s china away before I had to stop to have my quiet time, it hit me… I spend more time PREPARING to decorate my house for Christmas than I do PREPARING to fellowship with my Lord. My preparation is usually something like this, “Father God, forgive me of my sins. Give me….. Bless me… Help me… Amen.”

Excuse me?

Over the past week I’ve read in several places by a few different authors the importance of us Christians confessing, by name, our sins to God daily before we talk to him about anything else. Those very sins are what hurts our fellowship with our Father. And by just saying, “Forgive me of my sins,” does that really make us cognizant of WHAT sins we’re doing or does it just allow us to kinda gloss over what we’re doing so that we’re REALLY not admitting that we’re sinning? Taking the time to confess my sins, one by one, is part of the preparation I need to do to in order to experience true fellowship with God.

It’s kind of like trying to spend good, quality time with a dear friend when one of you has offended the other. Until that offense is cleared up, and have genuinely forgiven or been forgiven, any time you spend together seems empty because there’s that THING between you.

Preparation.

On Sunday I had the pleasure of hearing my friend Tommy Bolger preach at his new church, Friend Church – Florence. He challenged each of us to not just go to God asking for things, but instead to ask God to use us to bless others. Huh… He said that we come away far more blessed than if we just keep asking God to bless us (MAJOR paraphrase of what he said!).

So here’s where I’ve landed… preparation for ANYTHING is GOOD - ESPECIALLY when it comes to talking to God. If I spent even a FRACTION of the time preparing my heart to talk with Him, IMAGINE what He could do!! PREPARATION for most things is NECESSARY especially when it comes to going before my Father and humbly asking for anything.

It’s good to be back, friends! Now, I must prepare to write something tomorrow!!

I'm Not A Mother - I'm Aunt Alice

2010-05-10T10:37:00.002-04:00

I had the most amazing Mother’s Day yesterday.

Since my mom passed away in 2001, Mother’s Day, for me, has been just another Sunday. I try to make sure I let all my close mom-friends know how much I love and appreciate them, and generally make sure to call my Aunt, but I have certainly never felt the need to be made to feel special or appreciated on that day. I don't expect breakfast in bed, flowers or presents.

I’m not a mother, after all.

I’m just a single girl, with a dog and a cat and a smathering of AMAZING young women (all 16 and under) who call me Aunt Alice. Each of those beautiful ladies puts a HUGE smile on my face every time I see them or hear from them. I’ve gone from playing Barbie pet shop to talking about boys (“Aunt Alice, is it wrong to flirt?” HOW do I answer THAT one??) I’ve laughed with them, cried for them, crawled the mall with them, travelled to another country with them (well 2 of them) and most importantly have had the incredible blessing of watching each of them as they grow into Godly women.

Yesterday morning, as I got ready for church, I got the sweetest text messages. All of them basically said, “Happy Mother’s Day, Aunt Alice. I LOVE YOU!!” After I responded a few times, I got one back that said, “I’m so glad God put you in my life, Aunt Alice.”

That one made me cry. Wash-my-face-reapply-my-makeup tears.

I felt more love, more appreciation yesterday for just being me than I ever have. It was breakfast in bed, flowers and presents all wrapped in one text messge.

I had the best Mother’s Day EVER!

Parce que chaque jour j'ai pensé à toi.

2010-04-30T09:06:00.000-04:00

Ok, I admit, I don't think I've seen the movie Braveheart in its entirety. (But hey, my friend Jim Hale has never seen Princess Bride, so I think we balance out the universe.) I know the basic premise (there's a wee bit too much blood and gore for my liking) and I'm sure if I weren't so squeamish, I'd love this movie and be able to draw as many parallels to the Christian faith as my friend, Tim Suggs, can (no I couldn't, Tim's WAY smarter than me).

Anyhow, yesterday one of my FAVORITE blogs, (In)Courage was written by an incredible writer, Sarah Mae. She wrote about the freedom she felt when she let go of something that directed and controlled her life. She talked about the release and joy she experienced once she realized that that THING didn't have to control her and that instead honoring her husband and also her God was what brought true freedom and joy.

Earlier in the morning, I experienced the same freedom - to a point of near giddiness (ok, MINUS the honoring my husband part, obviously!) but it wasn't until I read Sarah Mae's blog that I had any idea what and why I felt the way I did.

F.R.E.E.D.O.M.

The night before I simply didn't do something that I had been doing for many months (don't worry - it's nothing bad). It wasn't that I didn't miss it, I did, but it was as if God gave me a release from doing it (ok, it's all just sounding so BAD but TRUST ME! It's not!! It's rather silly actually. Just ask Amanda - she can vouch for me on this!!).

Yesterday morning, I woke up with a smile on my face. I had accomplished something, had overcome something that had become so ingrained in my life that at one point thought I could never live without. It's silly and small and to 99.99% of the world, incredibly insignificant. But to me - it was sweet... well bittersweet, but sweet nonetheless.

And when I read Sarah Mae's post, I realized what all those feelings were.

Freedom.

I know that the discipline I used and the prayers uttered when temptation struck honored God. It's my prayer that I have more nights like last night. I know I will - because I am TRUSTING that God hears my prayers.

Peace out, y'all. Have a GREAT weekend.

(I have no idea what language that is up in my title, but when I was searching for a William Wallace quote on freedom I found that. And I fell in love with it. It has the SWEETEST translation. I encourage you to look it up for yourself.)

Somewhere Over The Rainbow

2010-04-29T10:41:00.005-04:00

"I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord, be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord." (Ps. 27:13-14)

About two weeks ago I read something that I had written in my bible, "Everything can be affected by prayer." I have no idea who said it or when, but those words are having more of an impact on me now than they probably did back when I wrote them.

Everything can be affected by prayer.

My worries.

My thoughts.

My feelings.

Everything.

" God hears.... for sure. Our trusting of Him is another story, even surer." (Greg Stuckey)

There was this AMAZING double rainbow right outside my door early yesterday evening. God put that rainbow there for me. It was a reminder of His promises. A reminder of Him. It was a direct answer to prayer. It was a promise to me that He does hear my prayers.

But trusting is another story.

It's the trust I'm working on.

Backburner Faith

2010-04-28T10:30:00.004-04:00

How do you recover from admitting that you don’t trust God to answer your prayers? That you don’t believe He’s even listening? That the last 5 months has found you making compromises, deals, and excuses for things that you know are wrong, but since you weren’t brave enough to trust God with one tiny thing it exploded into one GIANT thing?

How do you admit that you’ve put God on a back burner?

Just so you don’t think I’ve totally lost it all, I have been praying to God. A LOT. About a month ago I had to have a rather difficult conversation with someone. For weeks leading up to that conversation I prayed about it so much that I was certain God rolled His eyes whenever I started talking to Him about it. The day of found me in a non-stop dialogue with Him over it. I prayed for peace. I prayed for clarity of words. I prayed for the other person (whom I knew I was blindsiding with this conversation). And most of all, I prayed for redemption of the relationship afterward.

God honored those prayers and so much more.

Why was it so easy for me to trust Him with that but not this?

I don’t have the answers. I know that this morning found me on my knees begging for the ability to trust Him completely. I wish I could tell you that a switch went off in my heart and that trust was completely there.

It wasn’t.

Instead I was overcome with the strong realization that it was going to take a daily, no hourly, decision to trust. As this process of finally dealing with the BIG things progressed I would have to make a conscious effort to surrender it all to God. All the thinking, obsessing, worrying that had started to creep in since I started to deal needs to be replaced with trust in the ONLY One who can sort this out.

The ONLY One who deserves the glory when all is said and done.

Last year a dear friend shared with me these words from an old hymn. They are a sweet reminder of a real truth.

God is too wise to be mistaken.

God is too good to be unkind.

So when you can't see His plan,

When you can't understand,

When you can't trace His hand,

Trust His heart.

Major Epic Fail

2010-04-27T09:35:00.002-04:00

As I mentioned yesterday, I’ve been avoiding processing BIG thoughts. BIG time avoiding BIG time thoughts. So last night when I got home (THANK YOU, my BFJ, for your lovely words of encouragement!) I sat in my comfy chair and tried to think the thoughts that needed to be thunk about. (I know thunk isn't a word.) In the whopping 10 minutes I managed to sit there, I thought about the massive dust bunny under my dining room table, what to wear to work the next day, would my stash of Coke Lights last until another team went to Belize (sad, but true), and, finally (oh the shame) was tonight’s episode of “Big Bang Theory” new or repeat (repeat, FYI).

MAJOR fail.

Then, I had the not too brilliant idea of taking a walk around my neighborhood. I made it to the end of my driveway when the pain from my broken toe (yeah, broken toe) was too intense (can you say WIMP) and I limped back to my house.

Major MAJOR fail.

Finally, I thought if I sat on my bed, with the TV off, my computer closed and my foot propped up, THEN I could do major thinking.

EPIC fail.

This morning, EARLY, I took my oatmeal, bible and journal and sat in my driveway. After a few moments of making sure Lucy wasn’t going to wander the neighborhood without me and that Sweet Kitty wasn’t going to go off into the woods, I got quiet. Real quiet. Just me. Just my thoughts.

Just God.

The things I need to process aren’t all BIG, but they are intertwined with some that are HUGE. As I started to unpack them all and talk to God about them, I stopped and I realized – I couldn't talk to God. Then a feeling washed over me that left such a deep, dark hole I thought I wanted to die... I don’t trust God with any of the things I needed to process. I mean, I TRUST God, but when it comes to hearing and answering prayers SPECIFICALLY in this area, I don’t trust Him.

MAJOR EPIC fail.

I first shared about the fact that I didn't think God hears my prayers h ere, and honestly I thought I was past it. Really and truly thought it was a thing of the past. Then I remembered a thought I had Monday , “I don’t know why I bother telling God about ________________ - it certainly isn't like He's listening to my prayers.”

Yup – I thought that. Me, the girl who has been a Christian since she was five, been on countless missions trips, had lived in the hood where gunfire, prostitutes and homeless people were regulars outside her door because she knew God would protect her and was convinced it was His will, doesn’t trust that God listens to her.

I have no major lesson learned, no impressive insight. Just raw emotion and suffocating admission - I don't trust that God hears my prayers.

Happy Thoughts

2010-04-26T12:57:00.001-04:00

I was reading one of my favorite blogs today (Sarah Markley – The Best Days Of My Life) and she asked the question, “How do you process thoughts that seem too big for you?”

This stopped me dead. I sat here staring at my computer for what seemed like an eternity because I realized that there are several “thoughts” that need processed and I’m avoiding them. Much like I avoided doing my chores as a teenager. I’ve preoccupied myself with other “happy” thoughts, and pushed BIG thoughts aside. I’ve been doing this for the better part of 5 months. And it’s time to stop.

Now.

Turns out one of the ways I process big thoughts is by blogging and I haven’t done that since the end of January and even in January I only posted twice. After reading Sarah’s post I realized I’ve been avoiding processing BIG thoughts like the plague. I know I have tip-toed toward them once or twice but I always went running home to momma when the process got too hard or the thoughts got too overwhelming.

Happy thoughts.

This past weekend God started to bring some of those thoughts to the forefront of my thinking. One, in particular, He SLAMMED into me like a wrecking ball late Sunday afternoon. Today I realized I can no longer hide from them and no longer avoid them. I need to process them. I need to sort them out. I need to go before Him humbly asking for forgiveness, guidance and help.

I need to stop running.

Strangely there’s this part of me that is looking forward to this. I realize that just contradicted everything I’ve said already, but I am. I’ve been in bondage to some of these thoughts and I’m ready for them to be GONE (just because I haven’t been processing them, doesn’t mean I haven’t known they are THERE!). I’m ready for it to be six months from now when these thoughts are lessons learned and tears cried and bittersweet memories.

I’m ready.

“No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love Him.” (1 Corinthians 2:9)

Recalculating

2010-01-26T09:49:00.001-05:00

Several years ago I was in Atlanta visiting my Uncle Donny and Aunt Marlene. Unfortunately a few days before I arrived they had been robbed. So a portion of my time there was spent helping them file a claim, get copies of police reports, blah blah blah. On my second day there, my uncle programs my aunts GPS, gives me the keys to her car (oh yeah, did I mention it’s a Jaguar??) and sends me on my way to run several errands for them.

Now I can guarantee you, if I see the words “Antique,” “Used Furniture” or a gently loved dresser sitting in front of any place with the words, “SALE” nearby, I’m stopping. So while being expertly guided to the Sandy Springs Police Department by Karen (the voice of my Aunt’s GPS), I saw, quite possibly the most heavenly sight ever – an entire city block of those very words.

Sigh…

So I took a quick left (which is easy to do in a sporty little Jag), and Karen, very calmly said, “Recalculating.”

Karen wanted me to go straight for 2.3 miles, but I wanted to do a quick U-turn and park in front of a beautiful store with the most amazing dresser in front of it. (Hey, I’m from Pittsburgh, U-turns and parallel parking are taught in 3rd grade.)

“Recalculating.”

From there I wanted to do another U-turn (oh please don’t let my aunt and uncle be reading this) and drive several blocks, go left to what had been promised to me to be an antique, used furniture, dresser mecca.

“Recalculating.”

Here’s the thing. Regardless of how many turns I took or how far away I got from my ultimate destination, Karen ever so gently and calmly always responded with, “Recalculating.” She never got angry. She never got frustrated. She never said, “FINE! Find it your own *&%$ self!”

Last week I got an email from a sweet friend “wondering how my heart for increased mission’s involvement is shaping up??” Uhhhh… well… ummmm…

You see… there was this dresser…

No wait.

How fortunate am I to have a gracious and loving Father, who when I veer off the path He has laid before me doesn’t get frustrated and mad and swear at me using strange symbols, but gently and lovingly says, “Recalculating”? No matter where I turn, how far away I get from His perfect will, or how distracted I get, God is always ready and willing to say to me, “Recalculating.”

He’s always there. Ready to re-direct my path. Sometimes indulging my silly turns, but ultimately and always bringing me back to the place He wants me.

Does God need to do some recalculating in your life?

I Ate A Lima Bean

2010-01-25T12:09:00.002-05:00

My friend Greg tells a story about when he was a guest at some tribe in Peru (or Belize or Bolivia or New Jersey) and as a way of honoring him and welcoming him they served him grubs. Yes, grubs. That’s not a typo. I didn’t miss understand him. Grubs. The slimy, bug things. Grubs.

Yuck.

BUT like any well-trained missionary knows, the LAST thing you want to do is offend your hosts (or in this case scantily clad men with large spears and a possible penchant for cannibalism). So Greg did what he should – he ate the grub.

Take THAT Survivor contestants!

Recently I was faced with a similar situation. Well sorta. Well… ok… not exactly. I wasn’t with some tribe in another country, but rather in a very lovely kitchen in Chapin. And the folks I was with certainly weren’t scantily clad, but dressed rather nicely. The only spears nearby were butter knives and though I’m not 100% positive, none of them have a fondness for human flesh.

But when dinner was served there they were, leering at me in all their green, slimy glory… lima beans.

Lima.

Beans.

I hate beans. All beans (with the exception of the cocoa and coffee bean once they are refined to their sweetest, purest form). Butter, pinto, red, black, kidney, garbanzo, and yes, especially lima – I have a great disdain for all. I have managed to go to multiple countries were beans are a staple and served at every meal and NOT eat even a tiny smidge of a bean. I have become a master at hiding them under rice (which I dislike ALMOST as much as beans), acting distracted when they are being served and thereby “missing” my portion or, and this takes some planning, claiming to not be hungry and then later scarfing down a peanut butter granola bar.

I REALLY hate beans.

But there I was. And there they were. A big bowl of them.

Lima.

Beans.

To not take any would be rather obvious. To take just one (yes I considered that) would look stupid. The rest of the food did not offer any possibility of hiding them. And drat them, they had no dog that I could somehow feed them to when I thought no one was looking. I resolved to put just one serving spoonful on my plate and PRAY I could eat them without getting ill.

I swear their serving spoons are the size of a Smart Car. But I did it. I avoided the foul things for as long as I could but at some point figured if I mixed them with something else on my plate that MAYBE I could swallow them without spitting them into the face of my host.

I did it.

I ate a lima bean (ok maybe 12 of them). I kept them down. All 12 (ok, maybe 10). I felt like a small child who had just learned how to ride a bike. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops! Call all my friends. Change my Facebook status.

I ATE A LIMA BEAN!!

I still hate them (the beans - not the folks I had dinner with - they're quite wonderful actually). And thankfully they all now know of my great dislike of all things beans and I’ll no longer be expected to partake of any (THANK YOU LORD!). But I feel that FINALLY all my years of missions experience has paid off. I was culturally sensitive and I ate a lima bean.

Oh shine – what do I do if they ever serve liver or brussel sprouts???!!!

Christmas Eve Eve At The U-Store-It

2009-12-23T10:02:00.002-05:00

(I originally wrote this as an email last year. Sadly - I still laugh when I think about it.)

So I nearly spent Christmas locked in a storage unit.

Seriously...

I ran to the unit that my roommate and I share to grab a few things that I need for Christmas. This particular unit is one where you enter a code to get in, the gate slides open, you drive through and the gate slides shuts. When you're finished you drive up to, but DO NOT HIT the gate and the sensor, that "never fails" tells the gate to slide open again, you drive out and life is good.

Turns out, these sensors DO fail.

Now I know from experience that you must drive STRAIGHT up to the gate. This particular sensor does not like angles, so your vehicle must be in a near perfect straight line before it will do its thing. My car was board straight.

After about 15 times of backing up and pulling forward and backing up and pulling forward and backing up and pulling forward, I was hit with the realization... I was trapped. To make matters worse, this particular place has about 2 feet of barbed wire going all around it. I was REALLY trapped. I'm spending Christmas behind bars (well a gate). MOMMIE!!!

Of course this unit is also not a manned unit; meaning there is no supervisor, worker or any other type of human on the premises to help me out.

I started wondering, "Will anyone miss me?" "Will the Christmas Eve Eve Party at the Stuckey's be the same without me?" "Will the folks at work just eventually turn my office lights off and forget I ever existed?"

Sigh...

Eventually I call a number that I found, explained my plight to the guy who answered who responded, "Impossible. Those sensors never fail." If Apple ever develops an app that allows you to reach your hand through and strangle the person on the other side, I'm going to be the first to buy it. I explained to the guy IN GREAT DETAIL exactly what I had already done FIFTEEN TIMES and he says, "Well it certainly doesn't make any sense. Try backing up and pulling forward again." SERIOUSLY???!!!!

So for time number 16 (17, 18, 19 and 20, because he thought that certainly I was doing it wrong) I backed up and pulled forward. I began to wonder if the gum I had in my car would sustain me until New Years.

Finally he says, "Ok, I'm going to tell you a trick but don't tell anyone." (Yeah, right.) So he tells me the location of a button, so secret in nature that not even the CIA knows of it. (FYI - it's behind the fake looking rock near the motor.) He tells me to turn it off, wait 10 seconds and turn it back on. I should hear 2 beeps and then the system will have "righted" itself and I can get out.

No beeps.

He accuses me of possibly being deaf (!!) and suggests I get in my car and try again (#21).

Still trapped.

So he tells me to try the switch again and just in case I'm deaf AND dumb, he counts to 15 with me.

No beeps. This time he even admits he didn't hear the beep (maybe we're both deaf, I wanted to SHOUT). Then he suggests that maybe he'll drive on over and let me out. YA THINK??!!!???

Free at last, free at last, thank God Almighty, I'm free at last!!

Merry Christmas To All

2009-12-22T12:41:00.000-05:00

“And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled ‘til his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store? What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.”

Dr. Seuss

My requirements for a dog were simple: a mean bark, great with kids (I had none, but you know), housebroken, youngish (without being a puppy) and a few other minor details. Lucy was none of those. But she had the most beautiful, soulful eyes. And from the moment they brought her into the little “Getting To Know You” pen at the Seminole County Humane Society, she had my heart. And very obviously, I had hers.

Lucy is a Shepherd/Rottweiler mix (a Shepweiler as I call her) and Rottweiler’s are known for not sitting straight up – rather they lean, preferably (in Lucy’s case) against me. Also, when she wants to be petted she has a perfect knack of being able to get my hand to rest upon her head. And she’ll move her head back and forth if need be, just to be petted.

I’ve had Lucy with me for just over 10 years now. Each and every day when I come home Lucy is as happy and excited to see me as she was the first time we met. She knows my voice and responds to it (especially when it involves the word “treat”). She knows what it means when I pull out my suitcase, the sound of my alarm going off in the morning, and that tears in eyes means she should put her head in my lap and just be close.

By now you’re wondering… what the heck does this have to do with God and Christmas? I mean, it is your Christmas letter, SURELY you’re going to talk about the birth of Jesus, your trips to Belize, living in Columbia right?? Well today was one of those days where Lucy’s excitement over seeing me was as sweet and genuine as our first meeting. When I walked in the front door tonight she came “running” (she’s 14 – so running may be a stretch) to see me and, as always, leaned. Just like she did the very first time I met her. It struck me today though, that Lucy has ALWAYS done this… it wasn’t the initial high of getting adopted… it’s every day.

I began to wonder why I am not more like my dog with God. He has given me so much… not just the necessities of life, but also quite a few treats. He has blessed me so abundantly, but typically each day I come home, complaining about how long my day was, how tired I was or how hungry I am.
My dog taught me a lesson today… about gratefulness… and love. Regardless of how many times I’ve yelled at Lucy for whatever annoying thing she may be doing… or forgot to fill up her water bowl… or forgot to buy her treats at the store (accidentally, of course)… she is always ready to show she loves me regardless if we’ve been separated for 5 minutes or 5 days.

And I also realized Christmas is about more than treats and necessities. It’s about a God who loves me so much, beyond so much, that he did the one thing that can save me and allow me to have eternal life with him. It’s about a God who says, “Welcome, child” lovingly whether it’s been 5 minutes since I’ve spoken with him or 5 days. And Christmas letters are about more than sharing my life over the past 12 months. It’s about sharing the most important part of my life. Christmas is about Jesus, plain and simple.

That night there were shepherds staying in the fields nearby, guarding their flocks of sheep. Suddenly, an angel of the Lord appeared among them, and the radiance of the Lord’s glory surrounded them. They were terrified, but the angel reassured them. “Don’t be afraid!” he said. “I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people. The Savior—yes, the Messiah, the Lord—has been born today in Bethlehem, the city of David! And you will recognize him by this sign: You will find a baby wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, lying in a manger.”

Luke 2: 8-12 (NLT)

Have yourself a merry little Christmas!

Dear Ma

2009-12-09T10:00:00.004-05:00

Cecelia H. Wassam

November 20, 1927

December 9, 2000

I purchased this journal on December 23th, 2000. It was a mere 14 days after my ma had died. My brother and I had gone to Barnes and Noble in some insane attempt to try to get into the Christmas spirit. It didn't exactly work.

I decided there were some things I wanted... no needed to say to my ma that I didn't get to say before she died. Things that were keeping me up at night and causing the pain and the heartache of those first few hours after I got the phone call that she had died to remain raw.

My idea was simple. Each year on the anniversary of her death, Christmas morning and New Year's Day, I would write my ma a letter. I would tell her everything I wished I had been able to tell her throughout the year. Tell her how much I miss her. Tell her how I long to see her again. Then I would pack the journal away with all my Christmas decorations until the following year.

I also added one thing that I do every December 9 - I read though the first few entries I wrote. Without fail, even before I finish the first line, I'm bawling like a baby. But it's a letter to my ma. Written on my first Christmas morning without her. And daggum I missed her so.

Today is the 9th anniversary of my ma's death. I still miss her so much it hurts. I still long for one last hug and kiss from her like you can't even imagine (or maybe some of you can - know that I totally feel your pain). I can still, just barely, hear her calling my name like she did when I was 8 playing over at the Knecht's. I fear that someday I will forget what her voice sounded like.

In a little bit I'm going to open up that journal for the first time this season. I've got a roll of toilet paper nearby (I ran out of Kleenex!!), my cat curled up right next to me, and Lucy sleeping soundly on her bed in the corner. I guess I'm ready...

Dear Ma...

Pizza Soup - It's What's For Dinner

2009-12-08T09:49:00.000-05:00

There are several variations on this recipe - so feel free to make it your own. The basic premise is anything and everything that you put on top of a pizza can go into the soup. Be creative. Have fun. ENJOY!! (And I'd be a TERRIBLE person without giving much kudos to Charlotte Price who originally shared this recipe with the Richard Skipper State Farm Agency. SALUTE!)

PIZZA SOUP

1 onion, diced
1 green pepper, diced
8 oz mushrooms, sliced
Garlic (totally depends on how much you like garlic - I tend to use a lot which means I have a healthy heart)
1 16 oz. roll of Jimmy Dean Sausage (original recipe calls for 2, but it's WAY too much in my opinion). If you want it spicy use the hot Italian version. Sage works well too. Maple is disgusting. I generally use the plain, original (cause I'm just a plain, original girl).
1 package Hormel pepperoni (I use turkey pepperoni - it has a wee bit more spice to it for some reason and it just sounds like I'm trying to be a tad bit more healthy)
2 BIG cans of diced tomatoes
2 regular sized cans of diced tomatoes (I usually use the ones that have some sort of flavoring to 'em. Onion and green pepper or something - but again, the choice is yours)

In a large pan, saute the onion, green pepper, mushrooms and garlic. Remove from pan and place in crockpot.

Brown sausage. Drain WELL. (But make sure you get all the little brown bits off of the bottom of the pan - those are YUMMY in this soup!) Add to crockpot.

Slice pepperoni pieces into strips (this is just a personal thing - you can leave them as they are). Add to crockpot.

Add tomatoes and stir well.

Cook on low for... oh I dunno... 6 hours? The original recipe had it being cooked on the stove top - which you can TOTALLY do - I just like doing it in the crockpot. If you're in a semi-hurry, you can cook it in the crockpot on high for about 3 hours.

Serve with garlic toast and mozzarella cheese.

ENJOY!!

Now here's where you make it your own. Don't like sausage? Use ground beef, make mini meatballs, whatever! Skip the pepperoni and double the sausage/ground beef. I HATE green peppers so I rarely use those. Add olives. Don't add olives. What do you like on your pizza? Put it in the soup! (I double dog dare ya to make a ham/pineapple version. If you do - let me know!)

Dear Me -

2009-12-07T11:48:00.001-05:00

Have you heard of the website futureme.org? Obviously sometime back in May I learned of it for the first time. How it works is simple - you set up an account and on a future date you can send yourself (or anyone for that matter) an email about absolutely anything. I believe that future date can be anytime in the future. Days, weeks, months from now.

Kinda cool.

And today, kinda creepy.

Back on May 11 I sent myself an email as a reminder of something that happened 2 years ago. Something that if things were different would make today an AMAZING day. Actually, because things aren't different it still makes today an AMAZING day.

Because of some other CRAZY things that are happening today, actually at the moment I received the email from me, this email became that much more poignant.

God loves me too much to let me be miserable.

God loves me too much to let me have what I want.

God loves me too much to let me get my way - regardless of how much I beg.

God love me.

Period.

Today I Give Thanks For...

2009-11-26T10:00:00.002-05:00

Turkey

Mashed potatoes

Gravy

Sage stuffing

Pumpkin Cheesecake

(What else did you think I'd pick today??)

Take Me Home Country Roads

2009-11-25T12:00:00.002-05:00

In just a wee bit I'm hitting the road for "home." Barring any unforeseen accidents, I should be there in about 90 minutes. Thanks, that is, to the Interstate Highway System - otherwise it would be MUCH longer.

Anyone out there know WHY Interstates are so wide? Who they are actually named after? When they started? Thanks to my friend, Amanda, I do! And today I'm VERY thankful for them.

Honey, I'm HOME!!

Mix It Up

2009-11-24T15:49:00.000-05:00

One carrot cake

One batch of cream cheese frosting

Four Derby pies
All mixed an ready to go by 7 AM.

That's what I'm talkin' bout, baby!!

Alice Wassam and Oprah Winfrey Are Now Friends

2009-11-23T06:40:00.002-05:00

I’m just kidding but HOW COOL would that be. I know there is all that controversy and stuff and all, but hey Oprah needs friends, too!! And come on, that would be just flat out COOL!

Anyhow, I know I wrote an entry here about being thankful for my friends, but over the last few days, I’ve become particularly thankful for Facebook. Oh don’t roll your eyes – you love it and you know it! As a matter of fact, most of you who are reading this right now are reading it via Facebook and those of you who are not know that you have Facebook open in another Window. Come on. Admit it.

(The first is admitting you have a problem.)

The last several days has seen me stumbling upon friends that I thought were lost forever. And while I don’t anticipate spending the holidays with them, it was still nice and it put a huge smile on my face.

So THANKS creators of Facebook!!

Now I just need to figure out a way to block those Farm- Yo- Cafeville apps!

Let It Out

2009-11-20T11:00:00.001-05:00

Whether used to wipe tears, soothe a runny nose, or wrap up used gum, Kleenex are a GREAT thing. Between Sunday and today I've used about a pallet worth of the things. Plain, no aloe, no lotion, no color. Just good, old Kleenex. Use them in place of tp, napkins and paper towels. They can make your hair curly, help blot away excess lipstick, and other beauty tips.

I am loving me some Kleenex.

Bless you.

A Spoonful Of Sugar

2009-11-19T12:00:00.001-05:00

I am one of those people who avoid taking medication of any kind. Bottles of Tylenol, Advil and Aleve sit unopened for years. It's just who I am. As a matter of fact, when I moved from Orlando to Florence then Florence to Chapin, I threw out several bottles of stuff that had been prescribed for various ailments over the years - virtually all unopened.

However, I am nearly religious about making sure that Lucy Jane receives her 1/2 Meloxicam each day. Lucy has hip dysplasia in both hips (quite common for dogs her size) and Meloxicam has been, well quite literally, a miracle drug. It allows her to run, yes run. Get up, lay down and even, sigh, climb up on the couch (no, she is NOT allowed to do that, Erica!!). Lucy's spoonful of sugar? One tablespoon of yogurt. She looks more forward to that than anything else in her day.

Thank you, all you WONDERFUL scientists who created/discovered Meloxicam. Thank you, you wonderful veterinarians who decided to try this drug on dogs. And most of all, THANK YOU Wal-Mart for giving me 6 months of Meloxicam for $10!!

Beep Beep

2009-11-18T14:00:00.002-05:00

Remember dial-up?

I'm just saying.

A Tuesday 3-Fer

2009-11-17T21:39:00.001-05:00

So I have just a few hours left to get this in for Tuesday. I know, bad, right? But if you know me in real life, you know how crazy the past few days have been. It's a lame excuse, but it's what I got. So, with that said, my Tuesday 3-fer are:

1. Organ donors
2. Insanely intelligent cardiac surgeons
3. Prayer

Several months ago, I wrote here about my brother, David. The quick update on him is that it was finally determined that he had a bum heart. Bummer. And that he needed a new one (and a kidney for that matter). So after several trials and errors, on Sunday morning he got the long awaited phone call. An unknown person in South Carolina (of all places) had died and had signed their organ donor card. THANK YOU GOD!! So my brother drove himself to the hospital where for the next 10 hours he went through the process of getting prepared for another major surgery - only this time he was getting a new heart.

At some point during the day, the lead cardiac surgeon on my brothers case decided that instead of starting the surgery at the moment the organs landed in Pittsburgh he was going to delay surgery until he could actually look at and inspect the heart (and kidney) himself. THANK YOU GOD!! My brother's chest has already been cracked open twice in the last 9 months - this surgery needs to be the last time and if this heart was not absolutely 100% perfect for him, he would be totally out of options.

Turns out my brother has a big heart, because this heart was too small. So the surgery was canceled and the heart (and kidney) went on to another needy recipient. (Turns out, this is semi-common - who knew?)

Meanwhile in Florence, SC, a group of amazing and wonderful friends were covering my brother (and me) with prayers and hugs and love. THANK YOU GOD for the power of prayer, and the protection and comfort that it offered throughout the very long day.

Become an organ donor. It's easy.

Thank a cardiac surgeon today (ok, let's just make that ALL doctors).

Pray for someone.

Help Me, I'm Falling

2009-11-14T08:52:00.002-05:00

I've heard all the complaints and reasons why not to, but I will admit, I LOVE FALL! Yes I know things are dying and yes I know this means winter is right around the corner, but

oh

my

STARS

Who in their right mind could not love a GORGEOUS Pear or Sugar Maple in the fall? Or the smell of a freshly baked apple pie? How can you resist the urge not to jump in to a pile of raked leaves?

Grab a few pumpkins.

Plant a few mums.

Eat a caramel apple.

Feel warm and toasty and just happy.

There is not one single thing I don't love about Fall.

Only God could orchestrate such a perfect change of seasons. Only He could create something whose beauty is not only evident when it appears so full of life, but SHOUTS its glory when it is dying. Like His Son who lived so that when He died His glory, splendor and majesty were that much more breath-taking.

I love Fall.

Like A Good Neighbor

2009-11-13T10:00:00.001-05:00

I began my plunge in to the world of insurance on February 12, 2002. Up until that moment the only thing I knew about insurance, and for that matter, State Farm, was that I had insurance AND that it was with State Farm. But the insurance gods smiled on me and a poor, unsuspecting insurance agent (Ritchie Skipper) took a chance. (Don't worry, I don't REALLY believe in insurance gods - well... no... ok... maybe...)

My only fear was that I never, EVER, wanted to become like Ned... Ned Ryerson... (from Groundhog Day - if you've never seen that movie or haven't seen it in a while, WATCH IT RIGHT NOW!!).

And here I am, 7 1/2 years later, new city, new poor, unsuspecting agent. I am BEYOND grateful for my job. In this economy, especially in South Carolina, a job is a mighty precious commodity and I am thankful for the one I have. It may not be in the city I want to be in and it may not be EXACTLY what I want to do, but I have a great job.

Thanks, State Farm.

A Thursday 2-fer

2009-11-12T13:27:00.002-05:00

HEY what happened yesterday? Suddenly it was nearly 11 PM and I realized, "I HAVEN'T BEEN THANKFUL FOR ANYTHING TODAY!!!" I mean I was insanely thankful for LOTS of stuff yesterday - like leftover YUMMY pizza and Jell-o Sugar free chocolate pudding and double coupons, but I didn't tell y'all that!!

And now it's today and I STILL haven't done anything of substance! So here we go - my Thursday 2-fer!

I am GRATEFUL for clean water!!

Somewhere someone knows the statistic, but I think an incredible amount of people (884 million) live in this world without clean water. Heck, even in Belize it's not completely safe to drink the water - even to brush your teeth! This brings me to my second thing I'm grateful for - missionaries!

My sweet friend Angela, severs with Living Water, International, down in Pucallpa, Peru. Living Water exists to demonstrate the love of God by helping communities acquire desperately needed drinking water, and to experience "living water" - the Gospel of Jesus Christ. So Angela (and up until a few months ago her WONDERFUL husband, Tommy) is down there helping people not only get clean drinking water BUT to experience TRUE, clean, living water.

Sha Angela (and ALL my missionary friends) - I heart you AND I am grateful for you!!

Can You Tell Me How to Get?

2009-11-10T10:00:00.002-05:00

When I was little, I thought Mr. Rogers Neighborhood was only seen in my area, because, well, I actually did live in Mr. Rogers neighboorhood.

When I was little, I used to hope each and every day that at the end of "Romper, bomper, stomper, boo" that Miss Sally would say, "I see Alice..." She never did.

When I was little, I was convinced that Lampchop was real and not just a sock puppet. "No really, Mommie - HE IS REAL!!" I was reminded of this conviction for a long, LONG time...

When I was little, I wanted to "Send it to ZOOM" Boston, Mass, 0-2-1-3-4. I never did.

When I was little, Bert, Ernie, Big Bird, the Cookie Monster, Oscar, Grover were my friends. They still are.

Happy 40th birthday, Sesame Street. I am very grateful you were such a huge part of my life.

"Sunny day, sweeping the clouds away
On my way to where the air is sweet
Can you tell me how to get
How to get to Sesame Street"

Ole!

2009-11-09T14:42:00.000-05:00

Mexican food. Minus beans.

I

HATE

BEANS

But I love me some Mexican food.

Minus beans.

Cause I hate beans.

I see a visit to La Bamba in my near future.

But without the beans.

In case you missed it - I HATE BEANS!

But these posts are supposed to be about things I'm grateful for and WOW I am grateful for Mexican food (just, please, no beans).

See All The People!

2009-11-08T09:18:00.001-05:00

Remember that kids hand thingie (it wasn't a game), where you lace your fingers together, form a steeple with your two index fingers, door with your thumbs, and chant, "This is the church, this is the steeple, open the door and see all the pople!" (How many of you just attempted to do that??)

Can you imagine living somewhere where doing that could potentially put your life in danger??

Living here is nice and comfy US of A, I know I totally take for granted to whole idea of being able to worship God openly and publically. I can sit in the middle of Starbucks (drinking a Peppermint Mocha Frappuccino, of course) and read my bible. I can go to Moe's with friends, bow my head and thank God for my Billy Barou. I can invite a new friend to church and pray he hears the Truth.

I can do all of this without the fear of being arrested, beaten and possibly killed. And while most of the world enjoys this freedom too, there are some places where the threat of suffering for their faith is a very real and daily danger. Those people who risk this danger are my heroes.

Today I am grateful for being born and raised in the United States, for my freedom religion, and for those who fought to give me that freedom. Today I also pray for those who still don't have that freedom.

Hello Operator?

2009-11-07T15:11:00.001-05:00

Being blessed to have friends throughout the world (turns out BFJ isn't serving in Africa anymore - WHO KNEW?!?!), I tend to make the most of my Sam's Card. AT&T Worldwide calling cards are W.O.N.D.E.R.F.U.L!

I love that fact that for very little money, I can call and wish a 6-year-old happy birthday in Belize. And sometimes I just love the feeling that the world doesn't seem so big and folks so very far away.

AT&T - YOU ROCK!!

(I'm slowly venturing into the whole world of VolP or internet phone calling. Not TOTALLY there yet, but I think it may make me say BUH BYE AT&T. But by slowly venturing, I mean, I've googled it once or twice. I did say slow.)

Potty Mouth

2009-11-06T14:36:00.000-05:00

Indoor plumbing.

Enough said.

Lucy Jane Brown and Stray Cat Wassam

2009-11-05T10:29:00.004-05:00

I would be a bad pet parent if I neglected to say how grateful I am for my sweet puppy and kitty. Lucy Jane came home with Jen and I back in 1999 when we lived in the 'hood. Folks were telling us to either get a gun, an alarm system or a big dog that barks. Instead we got Lucy (well she is big). Lucy's barking was directed mainly at the telephone ringing, the hair dryer, or sirens (which, living in the hood, we heard LOTS of). She was terrified of the coffee grinder and kept us awake all night when her "blankie" was left in the dryer. (She couldn't sleep without it and therefore she wouldn't let either of us sleep. She kept pacing back and forth between our rooms acting very anxious. About 3 AM one of us figured it out.)

Once we brought Lucy home, all the neighborhood cats who hung out in our back yard scattered except for one, horrifically abused, mite of a thing (we weren't sure if it was a cat, a rat or what at first). Lucy and this THING were inseparable. As a matter of fact, the first time I laid eyes on it was when Tall Paul called and told me to look in my back yard. There was my Lucy Jane sleeping in the sun with this THING curled up on top of her. Later we realized it was a cat that had been so abused that it would literally bring tears to your eyes. Jen and I refused to touch her without plastic baggies on our hands. But shine, she was a sweet thing. And MAN did she love her puppy!

For months we referred to her as the sweet kitty. Being allergic to cats (and, well truthfully, a disliker of all things feline), actually having her as a pet never was really an option - at least that's what I told myself (and Jen).

About 3 or 4 months into our happy co-existence, Lucy attempted to jump out our front (closed) window (at least this is what we think happened). Whether it was to get out to her cat, or to someone who may have been attempting to get in, we'll never know. But the result was a nearly severed paw and a house covered in blood. I was on vacation in DC (yup - lived there for nearly 10 years, but I saw more on my vacation than I did while living there) and Jen came home to a horrible sight. Jen called me, FREAKING out (understandably) and was rushing Lucy to the Vet ER. After our 2nd or 3rd call, my cell phone died and I wasn't even close to being someplace where I could charge it. Jen's instructions to the vet was to save her, but not to anything heroic (???). They saved our girl but sewed her paw on crookedly (which Jen FINALLY admits is true). Since this was Lucy's first real visit to a vet, she was registered as Lucy Jane Brown. I've never changed her last name, even through 2 moves.

Sweet Kitty (it never occurred to us to give her a real name) healed from her abuse and is now one of the most beautiful cats you'll ever see (and, as I tell her daily, the ONLY cat I'll ever own and love). Since she was a stray and was never going to be a pet, Jen and I opted to not worry about taking her to the vet (she really is one of the healthiest cats you'll ever meet). But our WONDERFUL vet down in Orlando allowed us to purchase stuff for her and had her registered as "Stray Cat Wassam." Once I moved her to Florence with me, Tall Paul declared that she could no longer be called a stray cat. And, truthfully, she spends more time sleeping on my bed than I do, so yeah, she's not a stray.

My Lucy Jane acts every bit her age (which we guess to be somewhere near 14) but at times she's just like she was 10 years ago. Often I look at her sleeping peacefully on her bed in front of my fireplace and I cry because I know she won't be with me forever.

They are my girls and I love them with all my heart. I have no clue where the future may take me and I'm realistic enough to know that they won't always be with me, but for now, wherever they are is home to me.

Friends Are Friends Forever

2009-11-04T10:54:00.000-05:00

Of course the follow up to being grateful for my family is being grateful for my friends. SHINE I have me some AMAZING friends!! They are spread far and wide: my BFJ serving over in Africa, sweet Angela down in Peru and Duffy Wuffy up in the great White North. Some are as close by as the office right next to mine while others feel worlds away in Missouri.

I've laughed, cried, argued and mended fences with many. Some have seen me at my best and stood by me during my worst. There are several for whom I would move heaven and hell to help and many whom I would drop everything to be by their side if they needed me. And I fully believe that they feel the same about me.

Each and every one of them is a gift from God. And I stand in awe over the friendships He has blessed me with. There are many to whom I don't feel worthy of their love and support. And there are many more who I don't think have any idea how I feel about them - how much I love and admire them.

These folks, they are my friends forever.

We Are Family

2009-11-03T10:00:00.002-05:00

Growing up my family was definitely not the norm. As a matter-of-fact, I think I was the only one of my group whose parents were divorced. But I had my ma, and my grandma, and my "brudder," and of course a smathering of aunts, uncles and cousins. We were far from the most dysfunctional family in town though we did have our moments.

Things today are a wee bit more off kilter, but we are still family. I am beyond grateful for them. They're mine and I love them.

Today I Am Thankful For...

2009-11-02T13:26:00.000-05:00

Day two and already I'm getting behind.

Sigh...

So what am I most thankful for today? That's easy, peasy, nice and cheesey! My "new" iPhone!!

Ya gotta love being able to talk, email, text, listen to music, watch a video, Twitter and Facebook all with one simple handheld device! Plus there's games, pictues and SO MUCH MORE!!

Ah, iPhone, how I love you so!!

So what's one thing you're most thankful for today?

Give Thanks With A Grateful Heart

2009-11-01T10:00:00.001-05:00

It's November 1. To me, this means all SORTS of things. First off, it is OFFICIALLY the start of Christmas music playing. Don't scoff. It is and you know it. You're a closet November 1st Christmas Music Listener. Admit it.

This year, for some reason, I really, REALLY want to immerse myself into the season - the whole season - and enjoy each and every moment of it. I want to experience things I've avoided, take time to soak it in, and enjoy this time of year for what it is - a time of thanksgiving for all God's done for me and rejoicing in the birth of my Savior.

So since it's November 1st, besides listening to Christmas, I want to kick off a month of Giving Thanks. Each day I'm going to list something I'm thankful for and I really hope you'll join in. It doesn't have to be something deep or meaningful; it can be something as simple as being thankful for Ziploc bags (which really are a great invention!). There's no particular order, it's just my random list.

But since it is my first day, however, I do want to say that the thing that I'm absolutely most thankful for is my salvation. Thank you, God, for sending Your Son to die for me so that I may have eternal life.

What are you thankful for today?

One Is The Loneliest Number

2009-10-31T09:30:00.002-04:00

I figured it out. Finally. After all these years. It's been starring me in the face for quite some time now, but I've been afraid to accept it. I'm a girl after all. Girls don't have this problem. If they do, it's only because they're in a bad Hallmark movie and the script calls for it (that's not fair - I like Hallmark movies). But still, this is a GUY problem, not a girl problem.

I am seriously suffering from it. It's probably, hands down, one of my biggest fears. Bigger than being buried alive. Bigger than my fear of heights. Bigger than being afraid to walk past Pop Weasel's house on Coal Street.

I am completely and totally afraid of commitment.

Completely.

Totally.

Wikipedia (don't ya just love Wikipedia??) defines commitment as a duty or pledge to something or someone. And fear as an emotional response to a threat. So to break it down, I feel threatened by pledging myself to someone... ANYONE. That's me. Wuss.

I run - we're talking speed of light running - from anything that even HINTS at committing myself to someone. I leave quite a mess in my haste to get out. I rarely if ever look behind.

I hurt others.

I hurt myself.

I hurt God.

Once, several years ago, dear friends told me that I am a master of sabotaging relationships. And it's true. God, please forgive me, but it is T-totally true. I'm sure that right after they told me this that I felt bad and probably for a nano-second wanted to change. But I promise you, it quickly faded. I said nano-second, afterall.

It's so bad and so ingrained in who I am, that I rarely realize what I'm doing. I hide behind a shield of poor self confidence and a lack of self esteem. I blame it on the other person. I have an AMZING knack to find a speck of dirt and declare it a mountain.

I'm quick to distrust.

I'm quick to accuse.

I'm quick to walk-away.

Here's the really funny part. I desire, no I CRAVE, that connection that you can only get by being committed to someone. I fear dying alone most of all.

I have absolutely no one to blame for this sad state but myself. It's my choice. And it's a lousy choice.

Problem is I have no earthly clue how to change. I can confront my fear of heights. Pop Weasel is long gone so he's no longer a threat. I have no desire to do battle with the fear of being buried alive, so I'll let that one stay. But to allow myself to be committed to someone? To virtually say, "Please hurt me" cause you know they will. To be vulnerable to the point of possible rejection.

Really?

Seriously?

Yes.

Hello Mediocrity

2009-10-30T10:00:00.005-04:00

"Lukewarm people do whatever is necessary to keep themselves from feeling too guilty. They want to do the bare minimum, to be "good enough" without it requiring too much of them."

Crazy Love, pg. 76

K, so I've been absent for a wee bit. Not just from boring y'all with my meaningless words, but from everything...

Life

Church

God

I haven't traded out any of those things for really BAD things... like those real serious sins... you know what I'm talking about. Rather I seem have to become complacent with doing "whatever is necessary to keep (myself) from feeling too guilty." Yup, that's me. Avoid anything that might make me uncomfortable. Hide from folks. Ignore God.

Sigh...

BUT I totally justify all of it by talking to friends on Facebook (NOT a life!!), doing the online worship thing with Northland (and though I LOVE Joel & Vernon and others, it's NOT the same as actually going to church) and reading a Proverb, tossing up a prayer or 2, pretending I'm having a quiet time (that's not a relationship with God - that's reacting out of obligation).

Who, exactly, do I think I'm fooling? Probably none of my friends. Certainly not God. Barely myself.

The guilt just bubbles under the surface. I quickly push it aside and replace it with a pat on the back for whatever lame act I've just completed. I get by. I'm honoring no one with my walk - least of all God. What happened to the girl who wanted to live a radical life for the one Who saved her life?

I gave up. WAY too easily. I got frustrated, mad, and impatient. Things weren't working out the way I wanted. They weren't happening in the time frame that I wanted. Buh bye radicalism. Hello mediocrity!

Huh - maybe it is one of those serious sins. God wants me to be hot or cold. Not lukewarm. Not tepid. Revelation 3:15 from The Message says it best:

"I know you inside and out and find little to my liking. You are not cold, you are not hot - far better to be either cold or hot! You're stale. You're stagnant. You make me want to vomit."

Nice, eh?

The solution is simple. The choice is obvious.

Trust God. Trust His timing.

Live for God. Stop focusing on I and focus on HIM.

Be radical. Live life. Honor Him.

Be hot.

$7

2009-10-13T10:00:00.001-04:00

I have been HORRIBLY remiss in not writing about something that I'm very passionate about these days. Several months ago I was introducted (via (in)Courage) to a ministry called Mocha Club. Mocha Club is an online community of people giving up the cost of 2 mochas a month ($7) to fund relief and development projects in Africa. There are five main project areas: clean water, education, child mothers + women at risk, orphan care + vulnerable children, and HIV/AIDS + healthcare. Mocha Club is a way for common folk (like me) who don't have hundreds of thousands of dollars (or even hundreds of dollars) to make a difference in Africa.

$7

Do you have ANY idea what $7/month can do in Africa? Well, neither did I. But check this out:

$7

That's just flat out CRAZY!

When you sign up with Mocha Club you choose a project. I've chosen "child mothers + women at risk." Here is why:

Often, the women and children of Africa are the most exposed and abused, especially in areas where there is war. The young women in Gulu, Uganda are called “child mothers” because they were only children themselves when they were abducted, trained as fighters, and given as sex slaves to rebel soldiers in the “Lord’s Resistance Army,” a rebel paramilitary group in Northern Uganda. Now that they have escaped or been excused as expendable, the community at large rejects them and their children.

The Village of Hope provides homes, a school, clinic, job training, counseling and support for these women. Several of the Child Mothers from Village of Hope who are being rehabilitated are now helping serve and lead clubs for other Child Mothers at local Internally Displaced People (IDP) camps in and around Gulu...

In Ethiopia, the face of prostitution is often linked with deep poverty. “Women at Risk” is a group we have partnered with to rehabilitate former sex workers in Nazaret, Ethiopia. Women think prostitution is their only hope and enter that world because of a lack of family support and a lack of income. From our experience, the women are desperate to leave this occupation, but are trapped by the lack of opportunities and rehabilitative support.

$7

Intrigued? Interested? Wanna join in? Then check this out:

http://mochaclub.org/joinme/DeliciousAmbiguity/14

Y'all this is a GREAT way to get involved for literally PENNIES!! Right now, if you join, you'll not only have the amazing feeling of knowing you're making a difference in a part of our world that is helpless to help itself, but you will also receive your choice of a COOL "I Need Africa" t-shirt AND FFH (Jeromy & Jennifer) free CD download.

$7

Check it out - please.

Some Perspective

2009-10-08T10:22:00.001-04:00

This morning I was having myself a good ol' pity party. A woe-is-me kinda party. And not even for anything even remotely glamorous or pity-worthy. But it was quite a doozie, none-the-less. Stupid, stupid girl...

About 20 minutes ago Sue Madden came into our office. I'm guessing that none of the 6 of you who are reading this have any idea who Sue Madden is, and I feel sorry for you because of that. Sue is the director of one of the most amazing outreach ministries in this part of my state. She loves the Lord with all her heart and she serves Him 150%. Nearly a month ago her husband was in a car accident. As a result of that accident the doctors discovered that he had not one, but EIGHT brain tumors. The accident happened on a Tuesday and the doctors told the Madden's that if he lived through the weekend, because the cancer was so far progressed, that they would be shocked.

Sue told me that every morning they wake up thanking God for one more day. Even though it's a day filled with doctor's appointments, radiation treatments, MORE medical bills, a dining room table full of medications, and decisions and talks that seem so foreign and wrong, it is a day - it's one more day.

One more day.

One more day with the man that she's been married to for 36 years.

One more day.

One more day with the father of her children. Her best friend. Her provider, protector and leader.

One more day.

She told me that she knows God has a purpose for this and that her hope is that no matter what, that He would be glorified through each and every moment of each and every day that they have left together.

One more day.

I'm having a GREAT day. It's a day that wasn't promised to me, but He gave it to me. Now it's my turn to give it back to Him. I need to choose to live this day for what it is - a gift from Him. No woe-is-me, no pity party, just pure joy because He's given me -

One more day.

(UPDATE: As of today, 10/23, Mr. Madden is still with us. He's still going through radiation, but there's been no change in the size and amount of the tumors. THANK YOU for your prayers!!)

“Will You Take Less For This?”

2009-10-04T10:16:00.003-04:00

On Saturday I participated in our community yard sale. For 2 weeks I went through closets, drawers and storage bins pulling out all the stuff that at some point I really didn’t think I could live without and just HAD to have. It was going to revolutionize, glamorize or symbolize my life. Now I was willing to take 50 cents for it just to get it gone.

I wasn’t forced to buy any of that stuff (I resisted using the word crap). I chose to buy those things because I thought each thing would some how improve or enhance my life in some way. Saturday that $30 improvement went for $4.

So as I was packing the left over stuff, I started thinking, “Did God choose me OR did I choose God?” (This is not meant to be a discussion on predestination or free-will!) I CHOSE to buy that slightly too tall lamp with a shade that acts as a magnet to every piece of fur, dust or lint within a 20 mile radius. But that’s just a lamp. What about the God of the Universe?

This I know for an absolute fact: God loves me. Period. He sent His Son to die for me! And as a result, He commands me to love Him. It’s not a choice, it’s a command.

Not a choice.

A command.

“Jesus replied, “‘You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind.’”

Matt 22:37

A command.

My choice came in choosing Him. He is the one thing that improves and enhances my life.

Completely.

Yet, I confess, there are times when that choice is tough. When I’m willing to take less. When the command to love Him feels like a burden. Yes, I just wrote that. It’s in those terrible, dark times when I’m placing more value on WHAT He gives me, not WHO He gave me.

My God, who loves me so stinkin’ much that He allowed His Son to die on a cross for me, deserves so much more than my lousy choices and crappy (there I said it) attitudes. He deserves so much more than my willingness to take less. He gave me the GREATEST gift of all. Am I seriously crazy enough to choose less than that?

I do not want to live without God. I can’t, actually. I choose God. And that choice demands that I love God. And I choose to love Him regardless of whether or not He give me what I want. Because He gave me Who I need.

Delayed Dreams

2009-09-30T12:30:00.000-04:00

God loves to "pace our dreams" but we think He's "delaying our dreams"

and in doing so we misinterpret what is a gift, as a punishment.

Jon Acuff - Stuff Christians Like

My biggest challenge each day is how long I can delay taking Lucy out for a walk when I get home. Usually I just want to come home, chill, AND THEN get around to doing all the "stuff" that needs to get done. But, alas, my sweet girl will have NONE of that. In her puppy dog world, me walking through the door signals a WALK followed by dinner and then... oh joy oh joy... a T.R.E.A.T. (You can't say that word in my house.. at all. Even in public I find myself spelling it out.)

Tuesday, of course, was no exception. EXCEPT I had neglected to bring my running shoes to work with me, so I wanted to grab my shoes and hit the gym before doing all that other "stuff." There was no way Lucy was letting that happen.

Ain't no way.

Ain't no how.

Getting T.R.E.A.T.S. is the highlight of Lucy's day. So my thinking was that if give her a treat now, that I could go to the gym without taking her out. I give Lucy her 2 Ol' Roy Peanut Butter biscuits and she took them and hightailed it to the front door - biscuits in mouth. No amount of reasoning with her was going to change that fact that we were going for a walk NOW (she is a dog, after all). And those treats were coming with her (Lucy's also been trained that if she leaves any treat on the floor, it gets picked up. She's been known to carry a rawhide bone around for days. My girl is one smart cookie.)

Surely she'd drop the treat in the yard before we reach the sidewalk and take our usual route.

Nope.

Lucy took her entire walk with her treats in her mouth. (I SO wish I had gotten a picture of her - she looked rather silly.) To Lucy, those were her nightly treats - all she'd get for the night. There was no way she was giving them up. Little did she know, that if she had just gone ahead and eaten them right away and let me go to the gym, that when I returned, we would have gone about our regular routine and she would have gotten more treats.

Later while I was working out, I thought about Jon Acuff's quote on delayed dreams. And I thought about how much I'm like Lucy. God gives me little snippets of what He's doing to do. Instead of letting Him work in His time, I get all bent out of shape because I think He's just dragging His feet - delaying my dreams.

I don't necessarily think that Lucy thought she was being punished by having to walk around with treats in her mouth. I do know that I think God is punishing me by pacing my dreams. Instead of enjoying what God is showing me or giving to me now, I hold on to it, dwelling on it, because I'm sure it's all there is. Instead of trusting that there is more - more than I could possibly think or imagine - I'm confident this is as good as it gets.

I miss the gift of delayed dreams by being short-sighted.

I miss savoring my T.R.E.A.T.S. now.

Pick A Topic, Any Topic

2009-09-28T11:30:00.002-04:00

There are about a million and five things I want to talk about, but my mind cannot seem to focus on just one. I even wrote something about one of them and **POOF** it went buh-bye. That is good, because I wasn't happy with what I wrote.

I want to write a funny, light-hearted post because I think I've been WAY too serious lately.

Yeah, not happening.

So maybe I'll talk about what happened yesterday at yet ANOTHER church I've been going to recently. I most likely will NOT be going back, but I'm afraid I'm being too narrow-minded (trust me, what happened is REALLY controversial).

Nah - can't organize those thoughts.

How about the fact that I'm STILL struggling with wondering whether or not God is listening to me? Can you believe that? STILL. As I sat there pouring my heart out to Him about it, questioning whether or not it even mattered what I said, He did something VERY specific to show me He was listening.

Nope - no organization there.

So instead, today I wanna do two things. I wanna link y'all over to (in)courage and ENCOURAGE you to read Sarah Markley's post on hope. Sarah has, hands down, become my favorite blogger. I anxiously look forward to her new blog post each day. After reading her entry over at (in)courage, why not hop on over to her blog - it'll bless your socks right on off.

And finally, this:

"The Lord himself will fight for you. Just stay calm."

Exodus 14:14 (NLT)

What A Difference A Day Makes

2009-09-25T14:39:00.002-04:00

The situation hasn't changed.

The problems haven't changed.

And yet today, I feel totally different.

God didn't change.

His promises haven't changed.

So what happened? It's me. It's my heart. I choose to trust. I choose to take refuge. I choose to rest in the knowledge that HE is in control. I choose to let myself be surrounded by Him.

I choose to let Him do what He is good at, instead of relying on myself.

Scared.

Hurting.

Confused.

Alone.

He chooses to protect, heal, comfort and provide.

I choose to live this day for Him and not for me. I choose to be thankful for what I have, not what I want.

I choose God.

Technorati Tags: God,protect,provide

Dial 1-800-SAY-WHAT?

2009-09-24T10:13:00.000-04:00

Last night I needed to call Air Tran to cancel my flight to Pittsburgh for this weekend. So, being the technologically advanced girl that I am (NOT), I looked up the phone number on my computer (800-Air-Tran), grabbed my fancy, smancy, phone, and stopped...

I have a Qwerty keyboard phone.

I have no little letters over corresponding numbers.

WHICH NUMBER IS THE R??

Now I realize this sounds silly and stupid, but I seriously could not dial that number! I have no landline in my house (and therefore no other phone) and unless I planned on writing out all the numbers with their 3 little letters, remembering that the 1 doesn't have any and Q & Z don't get a numbers (which just isn't fair if you ask me!) I was just flat out stuck.

And can you imagine me calling someone? "Hey, Amanda, can you tell me what the number is for 800-Air-Tran?" Yeah, THAT sounds stupid!

My inability to make one stupid phone call because of the lack of a "T" over my "8" just added to my feelings of inadequacy, stupidity, and loserness last night. So I did what any girl would do when faced with not knowing what number the "I" is (4) - I cried, big boo hoo, whoa is me tears. (Because searching the internet for a solution or iTunes for an app just didn't occur to me until this morning.)

Isn't it funny the things Satan uses to beat us down? He got me good yesterday, and admittedly, a bit this morning too. As I struggle to work through the stuff I need to work through, I was comforted by something I read today:

"My existence was not random, nor was it an accident. God knew who He was creating, and He designed me for a specific work."

Crazy Love, pg. 59

Then, as if that wasn't enough, I read the journal of a friend from college who is going through chemotherapy. Here is a sweet soul who is going through something that, praise God, I have not had to deal with. Yet this is what she wrote put me smack dab in my place, and gently reminded me to not look at the circumstance, but to look at Christ.

Duh.

Then she wrote, "He counts the number of stars; He gives names to them all (Psalm 147:4). If the God of our universe (and it's bigger than we can imagine) knows the name of every single star we see in the sky (and those we can't see) calls me His child and knows the very number of hairs on my head (Matt 10:30) - how can I not trust Him with my life and my future?!"

Double duh.

Thank you, Jeanette.

Go away Satan.

Who's Your Daddy?

2009-09-21T10:03:00.002-04:00

Unlike when I was in Belize, I am taking a seriously slow time to go through the book Crazy Love. So much so, that after several weeks, I've finally started chapter 3 - "Crazy Love." This chapter is about God's CRAZY LOVE for us and starts by talking about our earthly fathers and that sometimes that skews our view of God's love.

Since I knew I didn't have the most IDEAL family situation, I didn't want to admit, or think, or believe that whatever I felt about God or about how God loved me had anything to do with growing up Wassam. Turns out, I think maybe it did (catch that - I'm STILL not totally admitting it, am I?).

In case the 5 folks who read this don't know (yup - I've grown from 3 to 5!) my parents divorced when I was 3. My dad tried for a few years to be a dad, but eventually gave up. I don't doubt for one moment that my dad loved me (and never have). He pretty much only came into my life when he had money to pay some child support (meaning he hadn't gambled it all away) and when he was sober. I could go for years without hearing from my dad.

I knew my daddy loved me, but TRUST was what was missing. I learned to not ask my dad for anything - not because he didn't want to get it for me, he really did - he just couldn't, or as I sometimes thought, he just didn't hear me. When I'd call my daddy and ask him to come see me or whatever, most often he was either too broke or too drunk.

Turns out, I view God much the same way. It has taken me a very long time to admit that. Slowly I am trying to change my thoughts that God isn't listening to me because He can't or doesn't want to. I am trying desperately to grasp the concept that God my Father ALWAYS listens, ALWAYS hears, and ALWAYS answers.

God is never too anything to not hear me. God isn't ignoring me. God isn't avoiding answering my prayers.

God isn't my daddy, He's my Father.

My earthly daddy loved me as best he could, being the sinful, human that he was. Near the end of his life, he got to know my Father in a sweet, wonderful way. My daddy walked away from the things that came between he and me, and walked toward a relationship with the One who loved me the way he never could.

My heavenly Father loves me in ways that I will never, ever fully comprehend and in ways that I'm just now starting to understand. He is never too anything not to listen to me. His silence (which I talked about here) has everything to with His CRAZY love for me. My response to Him is to trust.

Everything.

Always.

Even the silences.

"Since I Have My Life Before Me."

2009-09-18T10:00:00.004-04:00

I'll live my life to the fullest. I'll be happy. I'll brighten up. I will be more joyful than I have ever been. I will be kind to others. I will loosen up. I will tell others about Christ. I will go on adventures and change the world. I will be bold and not change who I really am. I will have no troubles but instead help others with their troubles.

You see, I'll be one of those people who live to be history makers at a young age. Oh, I'll have moments, good and bad, but I will wipe away the bad and only remember the good. In fact that's all I remember, just good moments, nothing in between, just living my life to the fullest. I'll be one of those people who go somewhere with a mission, an awesome plan, a world-changing plan, and nothing will hold me back. I'll set an example for others, I will pray for direction.

I have my life before me. I will give others the joy I have and God will give me more joy. I will do everything God tells me to do. I will follow the footsteps of God. I will do my best!!!

The above was not reprinted with permission. But it's the story, the thing that I read that changed EVERYTHING for me. It was written by Brooke Bronkowski when she was twelve years old.

TWELVE.

I'm... well I'm not twelve. And I have no idea how much of my life I have ahead of me. But more than anything else, I want to live the way Brooke desired to live.

I want to be happy.

I want to tell others about Christ.

I want to go somewhere with a mission, an awesome plan, a world-changing plan.

I. Won't. Be. Held. Back.

A few years later, Brooke was killed in a car accident. Brooke lived her brief 14-years exactly the way she wanted. Brooke did her best.

I pray, with all my heart, that I will too.

Mama Always Told Me

2009-09-17T11:36:00.000-04:00

There are several things that my ma taught me that, to this day, are staples of being a mature adult:

1. Always say "Please" and "Thank you."
2. Cover your mouth when you cough.
3. Never wear white after Labor Day.
4. Always give up your seat on the bus for someone older than you.
5. Never interrupt an elder/authority figure when they are speaking.

Representative Joe Wilson, whether he was correct or incorrect on his assessment of President Obama and his health care plan, was wrong for interrupting an authority figure. My ma taught me that there can be a time and place to speak your mind. She also told me it is never necessary to be rude to get your point across. And, in all honesty, it shouldn't really matter whether President Obama is lying or not, the fact of the matter is that based SOLELY on the grounds of human decency and manners, he was wrong for yelling out like that.

Now, to his credit, Rep. Wilson DID call and personally apologize to President Obama (just like my ma would make me do), and, by all appearances, was genuninely sorry FOR INTERRUPTING. If I got in trouble for interrupting a teacher, I had to go and apologize to the teacher, I did not have to stand in front of the entire school and apologize to them. Retribution had been made to the offended party. The entire school, while they may have been outraged that I interrupted and disagreed with what I said, were not the ones who I disrespected. The offense was between me and the teacher.

But it appears, that we "mature" adults need to take everything to the next level. Yesterday morning I heard a comment made by someone, whom up until that moment I actually admired, that literally made me ill.

"Former President Jimmy Carter said Tuesday that racial politics played a role in South Carolina Representative Joe Wilson's outburst during President Obama's speech to Congress last week..."

Sigh...

Seriously?

I mean, COME ON!

Even Rep Wilson's wife thought the interruption was wrong, but racial?

SERIOUSLY?

I am not about to even HINT that there have not been some racially motivated comments made to and against President Obama. There have been. And the people who have made them are WRONG and STUPID and just flat out immature. BUT to even insinuate that what Rep Wilson did was racially motivated?

Really?

At least RNC Chair Michael Steele (who, if you don't know, is African-American) said that former President Carter if flat out wrong. And I agree (as well as every person I've talked to about this). And it turns out that as of last night, so does the White House.

But I'm sure that there are folks out there who agree with former President Carter. Which, I suppose, is their right. But I have a couple of questions for those people:

Was Kanye West's interruption of Taylor Swift's speech racially motivated??
Does Serena Williams secretly harbor some hatred toward all people Asian, hence her tirade on the line judge?

People make stupid choices. Sometimes people act out of anger and frustration. But not every choice or comment is racially motivated.

"Arrogant lips are unsuited to a fool - how much worse lying lips to a ruler!"

Proverbs 17:7

'Nuff Said

2009-09-16T10:00:00.001-04:00

We can make our own plans, but the Lord gives the right answer.

People may be pure in their own eyes, but the Lord examines their motives.

Commit your actions to the Lord, and your plans will succeed.

The Lord has made everything for his own purposes, even the wicked for a day of disaster.

The Lord detests the proud; they will surely be punished.

Unfailing love and faithfulness make atonement for sin. By fearing the Lord, people avoid evil.

When people’s lives please the Lord, even their enemies are at peace with them.

Better to have little, with godliness, than to be rich and dishonest.

We can make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps.

Proverbs 16:1-9 (NLT)

Nobody Puts Baby In A Corner

2009-09-15T10:00:00.002-04:00

Ok, it's another confession day...

I have the movie Dirty Dancing memorized. Line for line with every ounce of emotion that they used.

Every

Single

Line

When I watch the movie on TV and they've cut a scene to save time, I take it as a personal offense. I have watched that movie so many times that I can even tell you what everyone was wearing in any particular scene.

So this is a sad day (no I'm not cowered in a corner wailing, just sad). And it's a good time to remember some of my most favorite lines from this movie. What are yours? (And did anyone but me ever wondered what happened to Baby & Johnny after the dance??)

"I carried a watermelon."

"Me? I'm scared of everything. I'm scared of what I saw, I'm scared of what I did, of who I am, and most of all I'm scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I'm with you."

(And my high school friend, Felicia, put one on my Facebook page that I loved too - it's the one where Baby confronts her dad after he had helped Penny. What a great line about equality.)

RIP Patrick Swayze.

A Cookbook, Pumpkin Spice Frappuccino and God

2009-09-14T11:29:00.007-04:00

Let me recap what's been going on:

1. I went to Belize

2. I read a book

3. God changed my life

Ok, that pretty much sums it all up.

Have a nice day.

I'M KIDDING!!! I mean that does sum it up, but that change? Yeah, it's still scaring me. And it makes me wonder, "What in the hey, whoa, YEAH is God doing??" There are some days when I don't think He's moving fast enough and others when I wanna shout STOP!! But He's God, He's in charge and I'm just along for the ride.

One of the realities of what I think God's doing (in case you missed it, I talked about it here) is the very, VERY real possibility that I might have to raise support. Yikes! No let me rephrase - YIKES!!!! I mean who in the heck am I kidding?? What in the world am I thinking??

HAVE I LOST MY EVER LOVIN' COTTON PICKIN' MIND???

So I kinda, sorta, freaked out Friday night, Saturday morning as I dwelled on the whole subject. Satan, that rascally devil, had quite the heyday with my mind. Drat him! So by mid-morning Saturday I was discouraged and admitted to God, AGAIN, that I can't do this, that I'm scared and that I need Him to help me. (FYI - I pray that nearly every day, nope every hour these days.)

Now what happened over the next 2 days may seem insignificant to you, but to me, it confirmed LOUD and CLEAR that God was going to take care of and provide for me in ways I couldn't even imagine.

On Saturday morning I was out and about and during one of my stops a woman (whom I don't even know, FYI) came up to me, handed me a cookbook that I had looked at before, wanted but had opted NOT to spend $25 on it, and told me that she received this book as a gift, had one already and asked if I would like to have it. Excuse me? Who does that?? TO A TOTAL STRANGER???

Then yesterday I was meeting a friend for coffee and chat. Now the Starbucks Pumpkin Spice frappuccinos are out... and though I am a LOYAL Storyville drinker, a Starbucks Pumpkin Spice frapp is, just, well... YUMMY, and it signifies fall and they're yummy and I just like 'em (did I mention they're yummy?)! I have been craving one since the came out (Tuesday, I believe), but thankfully there's no Starbucks in my sleepy little hollow. My friend, however, wanted to meet at a Starbucks that's about mid-way between our houses.

Oh the temptation.

On my way to meet my friend I asked God for the strength to NOT to waste my money (I know that sounds silly, but I REALLY like these things). When I walked in my friend announced that she had gotten a gift card for her birthday and it was her treat. I stood there, trying to protest, telling her I didn't really want anything and she said, "Are you kidding me? The Pumpkin Spice frappacinos are out and they are YUMMY! Let's each get one, ok??"

Oh yeah, it was yummy.

On my way home later I thought about God showing me how He knows my wants and needs (even the frivolous ones) and that He's in charge of them all. He reminded me through a cookbook from a stranger and a yummy drink from a friend how much He loves me and will provide for me.

(Did anyone besides me catch the humor of the picture of the frappuccinos being near "I Gave Up Two Mochas For Africa" logo? Nice, huh?)

Nine Eleven

2009-09-11T11:13:00.004-04:00

I know I'm not alone when I think back on eight years ago today. I can clearly remember every single thing about those few moments after the first attack. I was sitting in my office at home watching Matt & Katie, unable to comprehend what was happening when the second plane hit, FREAKING OUT, and convincing myself that none of this was happening. It couldn't be happening. This was America for heavens sake!

I am blessed that the one person I knew who was there at the moment of impact was low enough in the second tower to leave moments before the building collapsed. He walked out of the building, out of the city, and kept walking for hours all while the world crashed around him.

My brush with paralyzing fear came from my brother who lives near Pittsburgh. During the time when it was being reported that a plane was headed toward Pittsburgh my brother was locked in a bank vault. After the second plane hit the bank manager had everyone in the bank move into the vault. They stayed there until the airspace was declared clear.

Because of how a vault is built, no one had cell phone service. For what seemed like an eternity I dialed, redialed and redialed my brother's phone. Most of the time I got the dreaded, "All circuits are busy" and when I did get through it would ring

and ring

and ring.

I stayed on my landline with the person I had been talking to when it all started for hours. Neither of us were willing to hang up and be alone with our thoughts and fears. I used my cell phone to continue to call my brother. My TV continued to flash images of the beast that was destroying my safe, cocooned world. I very nearly couldn't function from the fear that gripped my heart. FINALLY someone reported that the plane headed for Pittsburgh went down in a place I'd never heard of and will now never forget. The "relief" I felt immediately afterward seemed out of place and insensitive. But somewhere near Pittsburgh my brother was alright. For a few moments my world was alright.

But only for a few moments.

I am fortunate in that my life has changed very little since 9/11. But so many out there have paid and are paying a great price. To those who lost loved ones that terrible day, I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am. Know that one day those responsible will pay dearly for their deeds - if not in this life, in the next.

Those of you who lost loved ones as a result of defending my freedom, again, words will never adequately describe my gratitude.

And for those of you who are making sure that my life continues not to change, who are the good guys and not the bad...

Thank you.

I love you.

God bless.

This is our generations Pearl Harbor, JFK and Martin Luther King. This is the day none of us will ever forget. Each of us was directly or indirectly affected. Each of us has a story. What's yours?

(I was inspired to write this post based on some of the amazing stories I read over at (in)courage. Check them out - they'll inspire you too.)

Runs With Scissors

2009-09-09T13:06:00.002-04:00

It's probably no mistake that this morning I read one of my favorite bloggers, Jon Acuff over at Stuff Christians Like, before I did any other reading, praying and journaling. I thoroughly enjoy his humor and take on a variety of topics. Today's entry was on being brave. Something I'm totally, TOTALLY, not.

At all.

Not one iota.

Especially right now. Especially today. Especially at this moment.

This THING that God is calling me to flat out, 100%, terrifies me.

To the point that I'd rather ignore it all, live my rather boring life, doing my rather boring thing, and stay put, than take that very first step toward all of THIS.

This THING that is huge and radical and scary!

MOMMIE!!

But, as Jon's blog reminded me, a 5-year-old shows more bravery on their 1st day of school than I am now. So what if I take a step toward this and I fail? What if I don't fail? What if I miss out on God using me to do something BIG! Would I rather live with regrets of never having tried or would I rather be known as the kid who runs with scissors? At least that kid is running, instead of this kid who wants to sit right where they are.

Boring.

So I am choosing today to live like a 5-year-old. I am choosing to step into that big giant school with kids who are bigger and older and wiser. I am choosing to run with scissors toward whatever and wherever God wants me.

(Just so ya know I do think that actually RUNNING with scissors is WRONG and dangerous and all that stuff. I don't recommend ANYONE actually running with scissors. K?)

30 Days

2009-09-08T11:12:00.006-04:00

It has officially been 30 days since I got back from Belize. My laundry's done (ok that happened within 24 hours actually), the pictures are posted (ALSO within 24 hours), souvenirs and thank yous.... ok not so much done - and I was on such a roll! BUT I'm finally also at the point of being able to talk and hopefully move on the whole thing that has literally been keeping me up at night.

I had taken the opportunity to hang out at the beach this weekend with my "family." It was a near perfect time of relaxing, laughing, and talking. Most importantly getting to talk to the people whose opinions matter to me the most. But before I had a chance to do that, God needed to show me just one more time that this time is about Him and what He's doing. He did that on Sunday at a church service that was held in the "resort" where we were staying. The pastor there has been going through Philippians and this particular sermon was on the first part of Philippians 3:

"Finally..."

(I LITERALLY meant the first part!)

The guy teaching is one of those alliteration preachers - which I must confess, I like. And because the folks who attended the Sunday morning gathering tend to change from week to week, he's also one of those guys who can succintly recap several weeks of sermons. Bonus!

Philippians, Chapter 1, he told us, is about our purpose. My purpose, your purpose, ANY believers purpose, is to glorify God in all we say and do. Everything else will flow from that. EVERYTHING. Period.

Philippians 2 is about our passion. What is that thing that God has placed in our hearts that knocks our socks off? The thing that keeps us awake at night. The one thing that makes us feel like THIS is what I was meant to do?!

Finally - Chapter 3. Pursuit - what are we pursuing? How are we pursuing it? To what degree does God want us to pursue it? Where is our heart when it comes to pursuing it? Is it all about US or is it about Him? Are we worried about whether or not this pursuit is beneficial for us?

"My service for God today has nothing to do with my satisfaction for tomorrow."

Jimmy Morse

My purpose? To glorify God. Period.

My passion? Short-term missions. It's been that for awhile now, but I lost sight of it for many years. I love, am energized, charged and fully and totally stoked about short-term missions. Not just going (which I LOVE), but being involved in people's lives as they go. Teaching them. Encouraging them. Training them. Watching them catch the vision. There is no greater pleasure in my life to be involved in someone's life as they experience their very first missions trip. It makes me downright giddy at times.

My pursuit? How do I do my passion full-time so that I am glorifying God by it? What, where and how do I do what I think God is calling me to do? I know God's going to provide the way and the means, but I don't think I'm just supposed to sit idly by waiting for it to happen.

So that is it. I'm at a point where I know where God is calling me, I just don't know how. He does and though it honestly does scare me just a tad, it excites me, too. I think it's going to call for some radical changes, but I think I'm finally at a point in my life where I'm ready.

Now what?

Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I'm His

2009-09-03T09:50:00.002-04:00

I have to send a box to Nebraska tomorrow. The stuff I'm sending is going to go inside someone's luggage to be taken to Belize next week. My dilemma is trying to fit as much stuff as possible into a rather smallish box so that the person taking it won't be overwhelmed. Last night I realized that what I have to send will no way fit inside the box I'm trying to fit it in.

Ain't no way. Ain't no how.

I think, no scratch that, I know that I do the same with God. I try, because it's easy, it's safe and it's comfortable, to put God in a box. If I can contain God, then all the crazy, wild, and yes radical things that He does, is doing and is going to do can be ignored and left behind. Right?

I am trying to put God...

GOD...

in a box. The Creator of the heavens and the earth, GOD, inside a box. The One who made the galaxies and caterpillars, Coke Light and chicken fajita nachos, the color red and laughter... INSIDE A FLIPPIN' BOX PEOPLE!!

The same God who is holy, eternal, all-knowing, all-powerful, fair and just. Just writing all that out is intimidating. Yet I think I can take God and place Him in a box.

Surely God wouldn't call me to do THAT!

Surely God wouldn't call me to go THERE!

Surely God wouldn't call me to love THEM!

Surely God wouldn't take my mom before I have a chance to say good-bye.

Surely God wouldn't expect me to be single much longer.

Yeah He would. All of that and so much, MUCH more. Why? Because He's God.

Because He is holy. He can't be compared with anything or anyone.There are no accurate words that can be used to describe Him. He is holy. Period.

Because He is eternal. He exists outside of time. We don't. He has no beginning. No middle. No end. Think about that.

Because He is all-knowing. He knows the innards of my heart. I get chills just thinking about that. There's not a single, solitary thing that I can hide from Him. Nothing. Nada. Neither can you.

Because He is all-powerful. Everything was created for Him. Not the other way around. Yet I constantly ask Him why He does what He does. Or, and I love this, I try to tell Him what to do!! Someone slap me now!

Because He is fair and just. Amen. Enough said.

I can't even fit iPods, iPhones, Cakesters & Hershey's in a box, but yet I think I can put God in one.

And yet, the idea of Him outside the box - of what He might do and might ask me to do, scares me. But I have no choice.

All that stuff will get packed up, in a slighly bigger box, and shipped off to Nebraska. And I am realizing and accepting that it is finally time for me to stop trying to put God in a box. He can't be contained and honestly, I don't want Him to be. It's time for me to stop being so stinkin' afraid.

He is God, afterall.

(The above ramblings are my thoughts on what I read in Crazy Love.)

Where My Tent Is Pitched Now

2009-09-02T11:40:00.003-04:00

Think about the one person on this earth that you love more than ANYONE else. It could be a parent, a spouse, a child - anyone who you cherish above all else. Now, imagine that person being nailed to a cross, dying for people who, quite honestly, don't deserve it.

That probably doesn't even begin to touch the surface of how God felt.

That was the question presented to me today in the portion of Crazy Love that I'm camped on right now. Being an "orphan" of sorts (both my parents are deceased) and not being married and not having kids, I honestly had to think for a moment just who that person is that I love the most. And once I locked in to who, those thoughts, those feelings, well they just weren't all the pleasant.

But yet, God loved me, ME, enough to allow His Son to go through that.

Me.

Prideful.

Selfish.

Arrogant.

Me.

That is how much, how intense, how MIND BLOWING, how crazy His love is for me.

And yet, I know I take that love for granted. I know that I walk around not even trying to be thankful for what He's done and I know that I just assume that no matter what I do, He will continue to love me with that same intensity.

And you know what? He does. CRAZY!! Flat out, knock your socks off crazy.

Now that I am aware of all of that what should my response be? Should I continue in the same lifestyle, the same sinful ways with the same responses and assumptions. No. Absolutely not.

If God is going to love me so much to do the one thing that to us humans is totally and completely unimaginable, how can I deny Him my life, totally and completely and utterly sold out for Him? How can I not, in whatever small and insignificant way not try to live a life, radical, crazy and wholly devoted to Him?

How can you?

(All of these musings were taken from the video, Just Stop & Think on the Crazy Love website. It's about 15 minutes long, but if you can't read the book, watch the video. It'll radically change you because it has me.)

And Now A Word From Our Sponsor

2009-09-01T13:18:00.004-04:00

Or, and most accurately, "Alice Is Not Talking About Crazy Love Again"

Today, my friends, I want to tell you the story of my left foot. Specifically what my poor left foot has been through over the last 22 days.

It started out like a normal day of walking, riding and sitting for good ol' Lefty. Adorned in its favorite left shoe from Germany and feeling all clean and polished after a week of cold showers and dirty roads, Lefty had no idea the perils that awaited him. I'm sure if he did, he would have chosen to stay in Belize. At least in Belize he hadn't been bruised, battered and torn. That distinction belonged to Righty, Lefty's bestfriend and at times arch enemy.

Things seemed to moving smoothly along, a bit of shopping just outside of San Ignacio, a van ride up to Belize City, a few hours at the airport and then a flight to Miami. This is where Lefty's once smooth and spry exterior changed, if not forever, at least long enough to leave an impression. Due to some strange weather, flights from Belize were cancelled the day before, making flights on that fateful Saturday crazy, overcrowded, and delayed. And in the case of Lefty's flight, nearly 90 minutes delayed.

This meant that the once ample layover in Miami, enough to go through immigration, pick up all the luggage, head through customs and re-check luggage, was now down to a paltry 30 minutes. And even in the best of circumstances, a near impossible task. As a result, Lefty knew that he would be called upon to perform in top capacity. Running - not just quick walking - from one place to the other, jumping over small children, quick maneuvers and quicker steps. But Lefty was ready for the challenge.

AND PERFORM LEFTY DID!! He and Righty worked in tandem, like a finely oiled machine. And then, oh children the memory even now brings pain to Lefty, while trying to pass off the luggage after flying through customs, I, Lefty's person, dropped, or more accurately SLAMMED what can only be described as a Smart Car-size piece of luggage full of Coke Lights and dirty laundry on top of Lefty.

The pain - OH THE PAIN - brought tears to my eyes and caused me to grab the poor innocent bystander who was trying to pass their luggage off. But Lefty, visibly turning colors and swelling by the second never let me down.

This unfortunately was not Lefty's only "accident." Two weeks later, black, blue, still swollen, STILL painful to touch, Lefty was still performing expertly when I shoved him under a piece of furniture, scrapping off most of the clean, but black & blue exterior. I VOWED to take better care of Lefty. I PROMISED no more stupid, childish antics. And Lefty, ever the trooper, continued as best as his bruised, battered and now slightly bloody self would allow.

Until last night, when the sweetest, most precious little girl named Mercy came into Lefty's life. I don't think anyone could have predicted the outcome of this sweet relationship. Just as the evening came to an end, this sweet mite of a little girl TRAMPLED on Lefty. But Lefty, ever the gentleman (footleman?) remained strong, never letting his pain show so as not to make little Mercy feel bad.

And I, Lefty's person, trying to hold back the tears and avoid limping, walked out the door and away from the heartbreak.

Today, Lefty sits encased in a simple black flat, valiantly enduring the pain and suffering. I've promised Lefty that enough is enough and that we will take as long as needed to heal and become whole again.

We now you return to our regularly scheduled program.

(Yeah, this is a stupid post, but I can't focus on much more than the pain in my foot right now. Sorry!!)

The Pink Sweatshirt

2009-08-31T10:39:00.003-04:00

"Hope deferred makes the heart sick,
but desire fulfilled is the tree of life."

Proberbs 13:12

Being single and slightly older than I was before, the whole idea of hope and longing is becoming as familiar to me as my pink sweatshirt. I love, love, LOVE my pink sweatshirt. I've had it since the mid-80's, bought it at EXP, have worn it in many countries, to many outings, I've painted in it, watched movies in it, slept in it, cleaned, shopped, you name it - that pink sweatshirt and I go WAY back.

SAD to say that there was a time that that pink sweatshirt fit me... well it was never TIGHT but now (and thankfully) it kind of just hangs on me, and if I'm totally TOTALLY honest with myself, it should retire to sweatshirt heaven, but I LOVE my pink sweatshirt (and pink's not even my favorite color). I've even had friends threaten to steal it from me and throw it away. I know every part of that comfy piece of clothing. The ribbing around the wrists are starting to fray, and there's that green spot of paint (I own nothing painted green, so that's a bit of a mystery), but those tiny delicate flowers and the softness... oh I can't WAIT for the weather to get cooler so that I can pull it out.

That pink sweatshirt has seen me through countless heartbreaks, thousands of joys and hours of laughter. It has been with me for as long as the desire, the HOPE of getting married, of belonging to someone, of being not just one, but two. It is as familiar to me as that hope and longing.

One of my closest and oldest friends (we're talking kindergarten here) told me shortly after college that she really, REALLY believed that God was calling her to be single for the rest of her life. Since then she has lived at peace with that decision. She has lived her life as a single woman desiring to serve God with her whole life. She's single, happy, content and confident in her life's calling.

She is my hope that someday I will get married. You see, I have never gotten that call from God like she has. I have cried, SHINE I've cried, over that longing. But everyday, somehow, some way, that whole idea of hope continues to get through. Over the years and through the many heartbreaks I've learned one thing - that regardless of how and when God fulfills that longing it will be His perfect plan, in His perfect time and in His perfect way.

"The vision is yet for the appointed time;
it hastens toward the goal and it will not fail.

Though it tarries wait for it;
for it will certainly come, it will not delay"

Habakuk 2:3

And as long as it takes and as painful as it might be at times, I am content (FINALLY) to wait for him. For it will certainly come, it will not delay. I have hope in that. I am as comfortable with my hope and longing as I am in my pink sweatshirt. And like that beloved piece of clothing I have no plans on tossing aside my hope that one day my prince will come.

(Sorry for the rather quick and brief departure from the whole Crazy Love thing. I wrote this post in part due to a website I visit each morning. Check it out - I think you'll enjoy it too.)

Please Leave A Message After The Tone

2009-08-30T11:28:00.002-04:00

"As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received."

Galatians 4:1

Good morning, friends. If you've been reading my blog for any length of time you know that a month ago I went back to Belize and while I was there I read the book, Crazy Love by Francis Chan. God is so totally and completely using this book in my life that I decided I needed to buy another copy (I gave mine away before I left Belize) and re-read it slowly in order to savor and appreciate and understand all it is that I think He is calling me to.

Since I'm reading it again (and actually blogging on a semi-regular basis) and since I'm nearing my 30 days of being back and deciding if I should make that major life-change, I've decided to take y'all (all 3 of you) along the journey with me. Yeah for you!

But before we go any further, let me make this disclaimer: ULTIMATELY the Bible is my one and only authority on how I should live my life. I am not delusional enough to think that any human, be it Francis Chan, Bob Norris, Joel Hunter or Beth Moore, can be the ultimate or final authority in my life. That belongs to God and God alone. I do, however, believe that God can, and does use His people. I have much to learn and many more roads to travel down. And if the lessons and applications that I have gotten from Crazy Love, Pastor Bob, Joel and bible studies by Beth Moore (and many others) are all backed by His Word then these are all just road maps to help me get to where I pray His is calling me.

So, with that said, here we go!

"...surrendering yourself totally to God's purposes, [He] will bring you the most pleasure in this life and the next."

Francis Chan

I believe that I know what God is calling me to, I just don't know what to do about it at this point. But is it my job to figure that out? Or is it my job to just surrender to Him and to live my life worthy of that calling? An old Keith Green song says, "He'll take care of the rest."

What is God calling you too? Is it radical enough to scare you? I'm scared, but at this same time, I don't want God to just leave me a message. I think, I'm FINALLY at the point in my life where I want to answer that call.

Happy Sunday, y'all.

It All Began With...

2009-08-29T12:58:00.003-04:00

four little words. These four words have changed my weekend. They're not very exciting or impressive words, but, words that have made an impact in my life.

"Oh by the way..."

Now whatever follows those words can be good, "Oh by the way, I found this check made out to you for $10,000" or bad, "Oh by the way, your cat died." These words could save your life, "Oh by the way, there's a large semi barreling down you" or change your life, "Oh by the way, I love you, will you marry me?" (FYI - if I'm proposed to with a line that starts with, "Oh by the way" I'll say YES but I won't be happy!)

But what followed "Oh by the way..." when my roommate said that to me the other evening, was certainly the absolute LAST thing I figured anyone would EVER say to me. And while it was really neither good nor bad, it certainly has changed how I thought I'd spend my weekend.

"Oh by the way, I've been exposed to Norwegian scabies."

Scabies... and not just any scabies... NORWEGIAN scabies. Tiny little body mites that burrow under your skin with an accent. And not just a few, like with normal scabies, THOUSANDS of the little uninvited buggers.

Itching yet? Yeah, me too.

So my idyllic weekend at the beach became an isolated at home weekend and hoping for the best. There was this initial overreaction by the place that discovered the pests, but now everyone has calmed down and we're all just wondering going, "huh..." Turns out chances of my roomie getting them are 1 in a million and mine are like 1 in a trillion.

Maybe I can figure out a way to arrange my furniture today!!

I so wish, however, that I was at the beach with sand fleas, the ever present chance of bed bugs and a million mosquitos.

Itching NOW??

There's No Place Like Home

2009-08-28T14:09:00.010-04:00

Call it the hope of Fall with it’s smell and colors. Or call it boredom with just about every aspect of my life. Or, and probably most accurately, call it discontentment. But whatever the reason, I’m feeling a combination of nesting and something akin to… well… I guess the technical term would be blah.

This is manifesting itself in a total and complete reorganization of my entire house. Last Saturday alone I painted a piece of furniture, cut out fabric for a slipcover and started moving furniture around. And moved it.
And moved it.

And I moved it Sunday.

And Monday.

And Tuesday.

And well you get the idea. Even now nothing still feels right (and my living room and dining room look like I just moved in – there’s stuff EVERYWHERE!). I am blaming it all on this one piece of furniture, one of my favorite pieces, that just doesn’t seem to be able to find a home. No matter where I put it or how I position it, it just doesn’t feel right.

It is a BEAUTIFUL piece that used to be a 4-drawer dresser (with 2 small drawers up top) that had survived a household fire. I got it for a STEAL at a place called Prosser’s, tossed some black paint on it and for years used it as just a dresser in my kitchen. (Oh, FYI, I collect dressers. Yup, it’s true.) Then one day I saw an article in a magazine where they took 4 dressers and re-did them and viola! a masterpiece!! So I ripped out the article and took it and my dresser to my friend Everett and said, “Make this… into this.” And he did. And I LOVE IT!

But now, I don’t know what to do with it. I have not liked it’s placement since I moved in here and so I’ve spent the better part of the week moving it from wall to wall to wall…

Sigh.

I can completely identify with this beautiful piece. (Yeah, there’s probably all sorts of things you can say about me identifying with an inanimate object, but please refrain.) I don’t think I’ve felt like I’m in my right spot for nearly 2 years. And while I’ve spent oodles of time trying to make my surroundings feel like home, I’ve found myself feeling more and more discontent, more and more unhappy, and finally more and more lonely.

I do not doubt for one single, solitary MOMENT that me moving here was His plan. There were situations and circumstances that just made it obvious and necessary for me to make this move.

But now…

I dunno.

Maybe it’s me and maybe I’m not making enough of an effort or maybe this is just God’s way of showing me it’s time to go home. Or maybe if I put that piece over on the wall next to the window in my dinning room...

Sigh…

Oh The OCDness Of It All

2009-08-27T12:50:00.002-04:00

I have reached the ULTIMATE in OCD-ness. I should walk around with my head bowed in shame after what I’m about to tell you. Ya ready??

(Ok, not yet) It appears I am potentially, POTENTIALLY, going on a trip next February, actually 6 months from today. It was a simple as Greg saying, “And you should come, too.” And me saying, “Duh – SURE!” Nothing’s in stone (though I think a “Duh-sure” does commit me), and though it’s highly likely that I will go, it’s not definite. Oh sigh I can’t believe about to say this…

Tuesday afternoon, I started my packing list COMPLETE with my “Items to get” list. I can sit here and give you all sorts of really good (or at least what sounds really good to me) reasons for why I started my list, like:

I'm REALLY excited!!

What if the things I need go on sale and I forget then have to run around at the last minute and get them and probably end up spending way too much money on them???

What if my life is absolutely flippin’ INSANE in the weeks leading up to my trip and I’m unable to make my list and I end up going with nothing but the clothes on my back!

So if you read my blog a few days ago, you know that it is TOUGH being me.

And some days are tougher than others.

In the meantime, I need a mini-Maglight, some packets of travel Kleenex and some socks… I gotta hit Target!!

Hippo Birdies To Me!

2009-08-26T11:44:00.003-04:00

It’s my birthday.

YEAH!! Thanks to the wonderful world of text messages, cell phones and Facebook, I am feeling overly loved (is that possible?) and extremely blessed. I have spent my morning basking in messages, phone calls, emails, Tweets and funny notes left all over my office. I started my morning (after my 5:30 AM walk with Lucy Jane) thanking God for the year He’s given me and praying about the year He’s going to give me. In my journal, I wrote, “Give me the courage to live a radical life for You – one that makes a difference. Let me have the determination to make the next year of my life count for You… regardless of how I may feel, how uncomfortable, nervous or self-conscious I may get. ”

I think that over the last several days I had started to lose sight of WHAT God may be doing and just started getting wrapped up in life of rearranging furniture, working out, beach weekends, you know, stuff. But over the past few days, a text message from Greg and a phone call from Jen slowly started bringing it all back to the surface. Then something my friend Terrie wrote to me last night reminded me how He is getting ready to do SOMETHING.

SHINE I have the attention span of a flea!

Anyhow, since it is my birthday, I’ve also spent a good portion of the morning indulging myself in one of my guilty pleasures: blog hopping. (Yeah, probably not the most productive us of my time here at work, but hey, have I mentioned it’s my birthday?!!) One of my favorite bloggers, Anne Jackson is also a guest blogger on a new website, (in)Courage (and let me thoroughly THROUGHLY encourage you to click on the link, forget my blog and go there - it is more than beyond worth it). I was reading some of the past posts and happened upon one by Melissa Michaels on finding peace with the season you’re in. I haven’t asked for permission to repost this, so please, if you’re considering turning me in, let me know so that I can drink all my Coke Lights before they haul me off to the slammer.

Highlights from Courage To Be You by Melissa Michaels

So, how do you find peace with yourself and the season you are in?

Here are some tips that have encouraged me along the way:

1. Get to know your heart.
What makes your heart beat a little faster? What are your passions in life? God gave each of us special gifts and things that He has planted in our heart to share with the world. We are all unique! We don't have to have it all together or keep up with someone else's priorities -- we can find beauty and peace living the life God intended for us. Our life might look a little messier or less "put together" than our neighbors, but we can find fulfillment in being authentic and true to who we really are. Let yourself discover and develop the passions God gave you.

2. Be purposeful.
Take pleasure in the things you decide to focus on! Whether it is keeping up with the dishes, serving the community or playing with your kids, find fulfillment in your special purpose each day. There is a time and season for everything -- some things you really love doing might have to wait for another phase of life. Be patient for God's timing! The things you choose to focus on may not look as impressive as what your friends do, but if you live purposefully you will care less and less about what other people think.

3. Embrace imperfection.
This can be a tough one for some of us! We feel God can't use us or we can't fully enjoy life or care about others until we can attain a certain level of perfection. "I will have the neighbors over WHEN we get this and that done around the house." It is hard to admit, but many of us hide behind our imperfections. Those imperfections become an excuse for our inability to live out God's purpose in our life.

We can become easily self-conscious about our homes, the way we decorate or our looks and lose sight of more important things in life. We need to give ourselves permission to be "in process" and focus our attention on finding contentment with what we have been blessed with. Once we can accept our imperfection and remove that roadblock, we can find new freedom in becoming all that God calls us to be.

4. Resist comparing yourself.
I love reading magazines, books and blogs. I love shopping and looking at beautiful things. I get a lot of encouragement and motivation this way! But I need to keep myself in check by not overwhelming my senses with too many suggestions. When I feed myself a steady diet of things that distract me, I quickly become overwhelmed and discontent.

I'm not just talking about avoiding ideas that are beyond my means! Even TOO MANY simple ideas or suggestions of things I "could be doing" can give a sense of not measuring up and being behind before I even get started! I find it really important to protect my mind from overload and distraction so I can focus on what I've determined God has called me to right now in my own life. Feeling balanced and content requires a balanced diet of input. Comparing myself to others on a regular basis is not healthy or productive for me.

5. Have Courage!
Finding contentment in who we are and purposefully living the life God planned for us takes real courage. It is oftentimes easier to drown ourselves in discontent in the life we live and pronounce ourselves failures for not being as talented or accomplishing as much as our neighbor.

Allowing God to use us right where we are, (in spite of our imperfections), having the courage to say no to input that distracts us, and the resolve to live purposefully in the season we are in will open the door for us to become all that God intends us to be.

Have a great day, my friends. Do something courageous today as a birthday gift to me. And pray for me as I find the courage to do what He is calling me to.

I Hate To Disappoint You, But...

2009-08-25T11:10:00.000-04:00

There are about a million terrible, disgusting and scary things I’d rather do than disappoint someone. You can hate me, be mad at me and even talk ill of me, but please, PLEASE don’t be disappointed in me. I will, at all personal cost, do just about anything to not disappoint you. And if you say those five horrible words, “I’m so disappointed in you” I promise you, I will cry. Big crocodile tears.

Today I had to do something that I knew was going to disappoint someone. The chicken way out would have been to email, or worse yet, text them (well I guess the WORST would have been to write something on their Facebook page). But I value that person and our friendship WAY too much to be a coward. So I knew in my heart that my only option was to call them (face-to-face wasn’t an option).

I’ve known since about 11 last night that I had to make this call. Needless to say, I slept for about a grand total of 3 hours worrying and fretting over this conversation. So rather than make myself sick the entire day, I called this friend at a reasonable hour and all but blurted it out before even asking how they were doing. I found myself nearly in tears, stumbling over my words, trying to explain why I was doing what I was doing.

I’m telling ya, it’s TOUGH being me some days!

This friend was BEYOND gracious. Completely understood. Totally supportive of my decision. And without hesitation forgave me.

But here’s where I landed with all this a little while later… I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt that I disappoint God on a daily, no make that moment-by-moment basis. I know that this morning when I chose to run to Food Lion before work (Diet Cokes = 4 for .85 each until tomorrow) instead of spending time with Him, TERRIBLY disappointed Him. And there are a myriad of other things I’ve done since 5:30 AM that have disappointed Him, BUT do I feel the same remorse, regret or anxiousness over telling Him or confessing to Him what I’ve done as I did when I called my friend this morning?

Heck no!

Why? Part of it is because I know that God forgives me and loves me in spite of me. I know that NOTHING I will ever do (with the exception of denouncing Him as Savior and Lord) will EVER change that. What it all boils down to is that I take my relationship with Him for granted. The absolute most important relationship I will ever have, and here I go running around like whatever I say and do just doesn’t matter.

But it does.

God doesn’t just want me running to Him with my needs and wants, but He also wants me to be honest and real with Him and yes, tell Him what He knows I’ve already done, ask for forgiveness and be done with it. Move on. Accept that forgiveness and rejoice in it.

And on days like today, get over being me.

I Got Nothing

2009-08-24T11:56:00.003-04:00

I’m having one of those days… those “I can’t focus on squat… oh lookie a birdie” day. I’m choosing to blame it on listening to 80’s music all morning long. Though not my preferred choice of music, it’s certainly better than 70’s music. So trying to figure out what to chat about this morning with y’all has been difficult. I’ve run the gamut of everything from sharing about a good friend (who doesn’t live in this country*) about what I think God may be doing in my life and their sweet encouragement to talking about Walter, an older gentleman who rides the bike at my gym every day and watches home videos on his portable DVD player and the tears I saw in his eyes on Friday (Walter isn’t his name, but I’ve managed to make-up an entire life story about him in my mind).

Sigh…

I got nothing… nada… zippo… zilch.

Wait… nope nothing.

It’s it wonderful that God doesn’t struggle with not being able to focus? He can focus on the war in Afghanistan, the prayers of my friend Jeanette who has cancer, and me – and basically my life is good! I am so very, VERY glad that I serve a God who is all-knowing, all-present and all-powerful. Because this chick has managed to get up from her desk 3 times now to go look for a fax. Thus far I’ve gotten a glass of water (trip 1 – didn’t look for a fax), grabbed some envelopes (trip 2 – still haven’t looked for the fax, oh and I didn’t need the envelopes) and stood in the back room trying to remember what I was there for (trip 3 – nope, didn’t look and ended up grabbing a few more envelopes).

There ya go folks – it’s a blog about nothing ‘cause I got nothing. Have a great day and if you need any envelopes let me know. Huh – what should I have for lunch?

(*I mentioned this only because at this point this is the only person who knows anything about anything. And since they don’t live here, I figured I’m safe.)

Welcome To Moe's!

2009-08-21T11:25:00.005-04:00

I hate eating alone. Sorry, let me rephrase, I don’t prefer eating alone (I’m trying to learn not to use the word hate). I don’t mean sitting in my house watching Two And A Half Men (which, FYI, is a terrible show). I mean going to a public establishment and sitting all by my lonesome eating my food. As a matter of fact, the last time I can remember doing that was back when I lived in Virginia with Donna, Cindy & Elizabeth. I went to Ruby Tuesdays, and when they announced, “Wassam, party of one” I thought I’d die.

Needless to say that experience scarred me for a very long time. Last night was the first time in probably 20 years that I went to a restaurant (ok, so it was only Moe’s, but still), ordered my food (the Billy Barou, chicken, NO BEANS) and when asked that all important question “Is that for here or to go” I held my head high, ignored the sweaty palms and the sound of my heart pounding out of my chest and announced for all to hear, “Here!” Then, when it was my turn to pay, I nearly chickened out. But I had 3 motivating factors for staying:

I live about 20 minutes from Moe’s. So by the time I get back home, my food is a bit chilled and the cheese sauce congealed. Ick.
It was pouring, I mean POUR-ING outside. I had darted in to Moe’s seconds before the skies opened up. And on an impulse, grabbed the book I was reading from out of my gym bag.
Sitting, BY MYSELF, at a table is just a teeny, tiny, small, VERY small step in the whole God-maybe-possibly-doing-something-HUGE-in-my-life thing. I know it sounds weird, but trust me, it is. Tiny, though, ok?

I got my food, picked a table (kinda in a corner where it would be so obvious that there were neon lights blinking above me screaming, “LOSER EATING BY HERSELF!!”) and proceeded to thoroughly enjoy my dinner and my book. Seriously! I enjoyed it. As a matter of fact, when I was done eating, I continued to sit there for awhile longer until I finished the chapter.

Sigh…

Now don’t go thinking I’m growing up and getting all mature and stuff, because the likelihood of this happening again in the near future is slim to none. But for now, this small victory feels HUGE in my heart.

Next on my list: learning how to ride a motorcycle.

Life, Love & the Pursuit of a Perfect Cup of Coffee

2009-08-20T10:19:00.011-04:00

The core problem isn’t the fact that we’re lukewarm, halfhearted, or stagnant Christians. The crux of it all is why we are this way, and it is because we have an inaccurate view of God. We see Him as a benevolent Being who is satisfied when people manage to fit Him into their lives in some small way. We forget that God never had an identity crisis. He knows that He’s great and deserves to be the center of our lives. Jesus came humbly as a servant, but He never begs us to give Him some small part of ourselves. He commands everything from His followers.
Crazy Love, Frances Chan, pg. 20

Now is probably a good a time as any to let y’all know, that most likely, unless a burning bush appears in my front yard and tells me to do otherwise, I’m not going to be revealing my major, huge, life-altering decision within the next few weeks. There seriously are some folks I need to talk to first who I’m thinking maybe should hear it from me rather than reading or hearing from someone else who has read it. And, ultimately, what I’m thinking and feeling may NOT be from God (hence the whole 30-day cooling off period).

Really – it’s not nearly as big a deal as I’m making it sound. It’s really rather minor in the whole grand scheme of life, love and the pursuit of a perfect cup of coffee (which I’ve found, by the way). So I apologize for the delay in revelation, but it’s for the best. And I promise, by the time I tell you, you’re going be like, “Eh, really? That’s it? So who’s going to win the Super Bowl this year?”

It’s hard giving up dreams that may ultimately not be God’s will or God’s best for me. But that’s a part of allowing Him to be the center of my life. I think for too long I’ve been walking around saying, “Ok God, this is what I want next” or “This is where I want to go next” or “Gosh I would be swell if You’d give me this next.” So for the next while I’m trying not to talk TO God but instead let God talk to me. Is what I’m thinking feeling HIS will and HIS best or is it me forcing that?

I dunno.

And, I realize, that some of those dreams and hopes and desires may ultimately be His will for me. And that’s GREAT. I just also need to stop trying to put MY time table into God’s hand and let Him do what He’s going to do, when He’s going to do it. I read a quote by one of my favorite bloggers, John Acuff, that said,

God loves to ‘pace our dreams,’ but we think He’s ‘delaying our dreams’ and in doing so we misinterpret what is a gift, as a punishment.

What am I rambling about? Not much, I suppose. Just that I know God’s doing something. And that’s all I have to say about that.

My Love For Him Is...

2009-08-19T10:13:00.005-04:00

The other difficult part about coming back from a trip is NOT making any HUGE life-altering decisions as soon as you return. Face it, after a great trip (heck even after a bad one) there’s this emotional high (or low) that cries to be fed. Sometimes that manifests itself in doing something REALLY dumb; other times, not. Back when I was the short-term missions coordinator for Northland, I remember consistently telling teams, “DO NOT make any MAJOR decisions for at least 30 days after you get back.” I have 20 days to go.

Of course, if memory serves me, the 1st time I went to Belize (back in 1998?) resulted in me making a huge, major, life-changing decision. But I’m fairly certain I waited 30 days. I wonder if it was as difficult then as it is now.

So when I was down in Belize, I read (devoured is more like it) Crazy Love by Frances Chan. This book challenges us be more like Christ, to take God at His Word and to live out what Christ calls us to live. Sounds simple, eh? Why then, did I find myself having to reread sentences and sometimes entire paragraphs just to make sure I was grasping what was just said? Other parts made me, no forced me is more like it, to put down the book, get up and walk away. Sometimes I think I was running away from what God was saying to me through this book. Other times I just needed to talk it all out with Him.

Here’s where I’ve landed. I’ve become complacent with my faith. I’m like this lukewarm pool of goo with no purpose, stagnant muck – ok, I’m feeling the need for a shower now. How did this happen? When did I lose sight of the fact that God’s love for me is crazy? At what point did just existing become ok? Where did I get the idea that God can love me the way He does and I don’t even have to try to love Him back with the same crazy, reckless abandon? (Please note the word TRY – I know I will NEVER get close to loving Him with the same type of love.)

This book managed to take everything I was already beginning to think and feel and bring it all out into the open water and force me to start wading through it. I do not want to just live, I want to radically live. I will never claim to be a leader, teacher, and heaven knows, a writer, but I want to make a difference. I want to make a radical difference. And I most certainly don’t want it to be said of me, “Wow, that Alice, she’s amazing. Look at what she’s done.” I only want people to see Christ in me and I only want people to see and talk about what He’s doing.

Here’s my fear (and I think what Chan fears for all of us who read his book): am I going to walk away from what I’m just now starting to understand and realize, and do absolutely nothing to change my life? Or will I act on what I’ve been challenged to change. My sometimes impulsive, often overly emotion- driven self wants to leap with reckless abandon to where I think God is leading. But I’m taking the next 20 days and praying and seeking and talking to people I who think can help and guide (or slap me back to reality).

My dream is really, REALLY big. My God is bigger. His love for me is crazy. My love for Him is….

If I Were James Taylor, I Could Finish This Blog

2009-08-18T10:01:00.005-04:00

The hardest part about coming back from a trip that is so wonderful and enjoyable is trying to, as succinctly as possible, share experiences and stories with friends and family and NOT bore them. I tend to swing from one extreme to the other:

Amanda: “So HOW was it??”
Alice: “Well we got there on Tuesday, July 28th at 10:48 AM and when I walked outside of the airport there were 4 ice cold Coke Lights waiting for me. I was wearing jeans, a green top that I bought at Old Navy and NEVER tried on, which was stupid and my tennis shoes. SHINE it was HOT! Then we divvied up all the stuff that was for others, separated what was going to Caye Caulker, packed all the car parts and miscellaneous food stuff in my green duffle – you know the one I constantly borrow from Scott – got in the van and drove around Belize City. I really don’t know why we did that, but we …” (you get the idea).

Nancy: “How was your trip?”
Alice: “It was good. Do we need more paper towels?”

It’s amazing to me that after all these years I’ve yet to master the whole “tell my story in 3 minutes, highlighting just one or two experiences and/or funny stories” thing. You’re either getting ALL my stories or none at all. Even now, I’m struggling to figure out how to sort out even 1/10 of what happened in Belize (which has virtually nothing to do with WHY I went to Belize). Sweet Baby James, where are you when I need you?

So now, for the last 20 minutes I’ve sat here, trying to figure out where to begin. Do I start by telling about the fun times spent in Caye Caulker and the hours of talking and relaxing and soul searching? The paths I think maybe God is leading me down as a result? How a bottle of fingernail polish ended up all over me (with some work, FYI, you can get it out of your clothes)? How each time I said to Jordan Leigh, “Hey let’s go on an adventure over _________” she would end up getting injured but yet was always willing to go on the next adventure? Do I tell about our time down in Punta Gorda and reuniting with old friends and making new ones? The need that was so evident while we were there and the ideas that were formed as a result? How I overcame my fear and jumped (and, regardless of what you may hear, it DID NOT take 2 hours!)? The feelings, emotions and revelations that God gently pressed on my heart? The night of the scorpions? The time spent out at Machaca and the great talks I got to have with guys who so desperately want to grow more in their relationship with God and who really, truly desire to make a difference in their country?

The gallons of Coke Light I drank?
How I managed to avoid rice & beans at every single meal?
Chunky Monkey ice cream in Belize bears no resemblance to Ben & Jerry’s. But is far better.
Storyville is better when sitting on a beach in Belize, talking with a friend, regardless of the amount of grinds (grounds? grunds?) you get in your teeth.

Or do I just bite the bullet and reveal the radical life-changes I think God is leading me to? The dream that is just so big that even thinking about it scares me?

Sweet Baby James would know the right things to say.

I Had A Grape Time In Berlin, Hiney.

2009-08-17T09:55:00.004-04:00

I’m fairly certain that at some point, somehow, just prior to me leaving for Belize, I made some SILLY statement about keeping up my blog, etc., while I was gone. And I know that because it’s all there in black and… well… whatever that color is. And I did do that very thing for 2 whole days. Wow… get down with my bad self and get right back up again because that’s where it all stopped. I have many excuses and reasons for not keeping my promise (did I actually MAKE a promise??):

Wireless internet in Caye Caulker was not all that great. Now that wasn’t totally true if you stayed in one of two rooms at the Tropical Paradise where you had GREAT internet or if you sat outside in the gazebo, but my laptop wouldn’t recognize the wireless connection. So my options were to consistently borrow someone’s laptop and either hang in the gazebo or crash in someone’s room. Neither option was all that appealing to me since there was so much other stuff to do. Besides, believe it or not, I have this serious phobia about being an imposition to someone.
Of course, there was always my iTouch (or iPod Touch for those of you who are touchy about it being called an iTouch). Wherever there was internet, my iTouch would connect. But, have you tried typing out large amounts of text on those things? Not fun. And with “auto correct” I end up saying things like, "I'm having a GRAPE time in Berlin, hiney!"
Then once we were down in Punta Gorda my chances of connecting to the internet were greater. However I had given my laptop away to someone in Caye Caulker, so I was back to having a grape time in Berlin, hiney.

But the truth of the whole matter is that by day 3 or 4 I was so overwhelmed with what I was reading, where my prayers/thoughts were taking me and with what was going on that I just was quite incapable of putting feet to my thoughts. So instead I just internalized it all and prayed for clarity of mind and that at some point I'd be able to unpack all this STUFF going on and share it with y’all.

I devoured “Crazy Love” and gave it to a friend down there before I left. Now I feel like I need to go get another copy and take my time reading and let all the things that caused me to think and cry and get pumped about, sink in and take root. But for now, I’ll be content to slowly try to understand all that God is saying and doing.

Wash your wear theater to encompass this with metropolitan (seriously gotta turn the auto correct off!).

When I Grow Up

2009-07-29T23:39:00.000-04:00

One of my goals over the next 11 days (besides drinking as much Coke Light as possible) is to start to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. I know that for years now I've been... well not necessarily unhappy, I guess just not feeling like I'm doing God any good. There's more I felt I could do or should be doing and I think I've been afraid to start down this path of what exactly does God want from me because what if it's huge. I mean what if it's REALLY huge?

A few weeks ago I asked the question how big are your dreams. And I guess that's really where this all began to unpack itself for me. Things, ideas, thoughts, and yes dreams, that have been laying dormant in the back of my mind for so long started resurfacing, stealing sleep and productive ebay time. And so now is the time to sort this all out and what better place that a gorgeous country like Belize.

I've been hearing enough about the book Crazy Love by Francis Chan to know that this would be a great resource for me. As if to confirm this when I happened to check Amazon out one day this normally $15 book was on sale for $7. So I bought it and the next day it was back up to $11. Hmmmm. Anyhow, if you've read this book you know how incredibly insightful it is. If you haven't well do.

So this morning, on my first full day here in paradise I started my journey. I am thankful that we are doing our debrief/R&R/whatever on the front end of the trip because it is giving me a chance to dig in and start with reckless abandon this whole journey.

So while I know y'all are hoping to hear the great things God is doing down here through us all, please indulge me for a few days and allow me to share some things from my hike down this trail and up this mountain and through this forest that God is leading me on.

“.... by surrendering yourself totally to God's purposes, He will bring you the most pleasure in this life and the next.”

“It confuses us when loving God is hard. Shouldn't it be easy to love a God so wonderful? When we love God because we feel we should love Him, instead of genuinely loving out of our true selves, we have forgotten who God really is.”

Be blessed my friends!

I'm A Leavin' On A Jet Plane

2009-07-28T05:31:00.000-04:00

Morning folks!! In just about 90 minutes I'll start my first leg on down to Belize. WOOT!! This is my fifth (!!!!) time down there and my... oh shine.... 12th or 13th mission trip. I can promise you, when I left on my first trip to the Dominican Republic I had no idea that I'd be sitting at the Charlotte-Douglas International Airport one day talking about my 12th trip.

WAY back when, I honestly thought God was leading me on that trip because He was going to break my heart regarding missions and quite possibly send me to Pago Pago to witness to the Pago pagans. I was willing to go wherever He wanted me (just PLEASE God, not to a HOT place) and do whatever He wanted. That first trip was with a HUGE group of high school students with Youth For Christ and we had been re-routed to the DR because of a coup going on in Haiti. I had never worked with high school student, but figured I had been one not long before that so how hard could it be, right?

Each morning while in the DR, I would pray, “God PLEASE break my heart regarding missions. PLEASE show me where you want me. Use me God.” Each day I would spend hours with the kids on our trip, laughing, hanging out and serving God. The next day I'd start the process all over again.

The result of that trip wasn't a clear sign to move to Bora Bora (I was into double-named places obviously) but a heart for high school kids and a love for short-term missions. And I have been blessed over the past many years to have been allowed to serve God in a variety of different places and a variety of different ways.

By far the hardest trip was to Iasi, Romania and the few hours I was able to spend in a baby orphanage loving on and helping dozens of babies who didn't know what human touch felt like but after a few minutes of being held cuddled in your arms and screamed like heck when you put them down. I bawled my eyes out for days knowing what was going to happen to so many of them and feeling powerless.

Prior to leaving for Africa I was told that once Africa got into your blood, nothing would ever replace it. That is beyond true, because although I have been to many places since then, there is a special and large place in my heart for Africa. If given the chance, I would go back in a heartbeat.

But the place that God keeps taking me back to is Belize. I love Belize. I have been fortunate enough to have made some wonderful friends there and enjoy being able to go back there as often as I can. I see a serious need down there and hungry, HUNGRY souls. Belizeans have heard the Gospel, many times and in many ways. But so many of these people are so lost and so desperate for something, ANYTHING in their lives to make a difference.

Whatever my role is in all of this, I have no clue, but I'm going to enjoy this opportunity and do my best to serve Him on this trip

Pray for all of us and pray that I would honor Him in all I do and all I say. And pray, that if it is His will, that my heart would be broken for Him.

Love you guys and I'll try to write more soon.

Do You See What I See?

2009-07-17T13:01:00.008-04:00

I need to admit something.

Sigh… this is so hard….

My name is Alice. I need reading glasses.

There I said it. I’ve been fighting it for about a year now. But I can’t do it any longer. I need glasses. Just to read, but still. I’m the girl who used a small bible with tiny print with no problem, but now… yeah… sigh…

My eyes are aging. I’m not – just my eyes. I am still perfectly young. And I see perfectly well all other times, it’s just reading things up close. I’m gonna blame all these years sitting in front of the computer. Yeah that’s it. It’s the computer’s fault. It’s not that my eyes are aging, it’s the fact that I have to work for a living and sit in front of a computer all day.

Yeah, that’s it.

But it’s still a fairly tough pill to swallow, this whole needing glasses thing. But I’ve put it off long enough. So there I stood on Saturday afternoon in the middle of Barnes & Noble trying on various styles and strengths of glasses. THANKFULLY I’m only at the point of needing “very weak” ones (I guess they are the +1.0 ones) which is SOMEWHAT of a comfort.

I need reading glasses.

Sigh…

On a brighter note –

11 DAYS!!

Things are progressing along at a snail’s pace. Flights are booked, Caye Caulker details are done, but we’re still lacking a place to lay our heads in Punta Gorda (long story). And it’s raining, but it is the rainy season so I suppose that’s to be expected. But with all the rain comes the chance that the bridge will wash out. I informed our friend down there that he needs to figure out a way to make the van float since flying down and back from PG just isn’t in our budget at this time. I think he thinks I’m joking. I’m not.

Support for me is going well. I’m still about $350 short of my goal (ok, now that I’ve written that, it does seem a bit overwhelming, huh?). PRAY!! I have no doubt that God can and will make this happen.

Now where did I put my glasses?

Let Me 'Splain

2009-07-09T13:47:00.008-04:00

(No let me sum up – ok, what movie is that from folks??)

Last night at about 3 AM I sat straight up and thought, “STINKIE!! I’m not being clear on some stuff about my Belize trip!!!” So allow me to apologize for letting y’all think stuff that would be so incredibly wrong. (And, most likely, most of you aren’t even aware of this, so just humor me here.)

As you may (or may not know) a portion of this trip will be spent in Caye Caulker. And, well, if you’ve never been to Caye Caulker, I pity you. It is, hands down, one of the most AMAZING places here on this earth. It easily ranks as one of my top 5 places I’d be more than willing for God to send me to as a full-time missionary. Our plans for Caye Caulker – NOTHING! Four GLORIOUS days of nada, zippo, zilch, and as Kristin would say, “bupkis.” Four GLORIOUS days of sand, sun, Storyville, great friends and lots of laughs. - oh how my soul is yearning for that!!

ANYHOW, what I need for y’all to know is that I AM NOT trying to raise support for this portion of the trip. Obviously since this is personal/vacation time, I’m paying for this. I would HATE for anyone out there to be thinking anything different. So please, if these thoughts crossed your mind, make them go far, FAR away.

And speaking of support, I’m a mere $400 away from my goal with… (drum roll please)

19 days to go!!!

Say What??

2009-07-08T12:57:00.003-04:00

Ok, if I were to ever play the lottery and if I won, I would buy an airline. Someone explain to me how/why at 7:00 AM I can purchase one ticket to/from Belize for $576 then a mere 2 minutes later go to purchase more and SAY WHAT? There are no more seats available at that price. But I do have the opportunity to purchase seats on that same flight for a mere $155 more.

Huh…

So there I was... going to Belize… all by my lonesome.

MOMMY!!!

Here’s what I don’t get… I paid $576 for seat 16a. I could now buy seat 16B for $731 (16a is a window seat, 16b is the center). Ummm…. How is my seat worth less than someone who would be sitting in the middle getting all scrunched and stuff?

It’s all very confusing to me, actually.

And, if there are seats available, why not sell them all at the same price? Cause ya better believe your ripe patootie that if I find someone on my flight who paid less than me and booked about the same time as me, I’m gonna… well I’m gonna… ok, I’ll probably do nothing, but by golly I’ll have me an attitude!!

AND OH pity the soul who is sitting next to me if any of our flights are even slightly empty!!

The good news is that I am no longer going to Belize by myself. My friends, Greg, Jamie and the girls are flying out of Raleigh and we’re hooking up in Miami. Their tickets were slightly more than mine (amazing what 3 hours can do!) but at least we all now have tickets. The unfortunate part is that the cost of our trip has risen slightly (our tickets, overall, were a tad bit higher than anticipated). But God is good!!

Now if only we had a place to stay…

Oh and now my countdown has changed (we’re leaving a day early).

20 DAYS!!!

23 Days!!

2009-07-07T15:32:00.003-04:00

I can’t believe I’m typing that again! Didn’t I just get back from Belize? Didn’t I just cancel one trip to Belize? Didn’t I tell Greg 2 months ago that I wouldn’t be going back down to Belize this year?

Oh how God is LAUGHING at me!

But here I go – planning, counting down and yes, putting stuff aside to pack. I’m a bit OCD-ish when it comes to packing. My “2009 Belize 2” packing list has been modified, edited and studied. Shopping, thankfully, is just about complete (with the exception of a travel coffee press and some Storyville, a jar of peanut butter and some Pepsi). Oh my packing issues could be a blog in and of themselves!

Tickets aren’t bought yet, but I think that’s just a formality. I think… sure… Nah – I’m not worried… much…

We’re doing things a tad bit differently this time. Generally you go, work like a dog doing the project (whatever it may be) then go debrief someplace before re-entry. This time, we’re doing the debrief on the front end and we’ll work right up to the day we leave. I’m cool with that. It’s been a tough year personally, and I could use the chill time.

Pray for all of us, if you don’t mind. Greg & Jamie, as always, will be running WIDE OPEN until we leave. Financially this trip will be a stretch for all of us. BUT God is gracious and continues to abundantly provide for each of us.

Pray, also, for the guys down there. They are right in the middle of Summer Camp. It’s hot (duh – it’s the jungle and it’s Central America – what else would it be?) and they’re still dealing with earthquake issues (no more earthquakes, but buildings that are totally repaired yet).

More later!

Here I Go Again!

2009-07-06T16:11:00.004-04:00

Yup – I’m going back to Belize. CRAZY!! Just as soon as I think God has closed (ok, sometimes SLAMMED) a door, He opens it right back up in His way and in His time. Most folks are going to get the following via email, but some of you may not. For that reason, I’m posting my support letter here. If you are interested, or if you would like more information, PLEASE let me know.

Thank you!!!

Dear Friends,

Well here I go again!! I am hoping you all know (or at least those of you who got the first onslaught of emails or letters) that my June trip to Punta Gorda, Belize, had to be postponed due to financial concerns with R U Red E (they are FINE – the trip was going to put a HUGE strain on the ministry). However, God has paved away AGAIN for me to be able to go down and minister in Belize. And after much prayer and LOTS of talks, I’ve decided that I should go.

YAY GOD!!

I’ve been asked to accompany my SWEET friends Greg & Jamie Stuckey and their daughters back down to Punta Gorda, Belize. While we are down there we will be doing multiple projects. Greg and several other guys will be teaching college-level classes to the guys who live and work at Machaca Outreach Center as part of their Machaca Ministry Training program. During these classes, Jamie, the girls and I will be doing just about everything and anything at the camp that needs cleaned, repaired (minor), and re-organized after a summer of camps and outreach programs. And because we are handling these tasks, it will free up the guys to take part in this important class. We will also be looking into the possibility of getting a team down there SOON to take care of Miss Shirley’s roof (one of the original projects from the June trip).

So again, I find myself coming to you, humbly, asking for your prayers, and if possible, your financial support. My need for this trip has changed from the June trip. I am only required to raise $1500 to pay for airfare, food, lodging, and to help supply the guys with the textbooks and supplies. Through God’s grace I was able to raise a good portion of what is needed for this trip when I was raising funds for the June trip. Nearly all of that is able to be transferred to The Church At Sandhurst, the sponsoring church for the trip.

For me, the hardest part of any trip is this whole area of fund raising. But God continues to show me again through this process that He is in control. Your participation in ANY manner will be BEYOND appreciated.

Because of the timing of all of this, I’m obviously doing this in a rather unorthodox way. At this point, Sandhurst does not have the ability to accept donations online. If you would like to donate, PLEASE allow me to send you a stamped self-addressed envelope. Email me, Tweet me or just call and I’ll let you know where to mail it to if you’re just itching to do it now. And don’t forget, your donation is completely tax deductible and you will receive a receipt for it from Sandhurst.

In advance let me say thank you, thank you and a million times THANK YOU!! I am trying to keep a blog of this whole process, so check it out or follow me on Twitter. I’ll make every effort to update the site daily on our progress while down there.

Hold The Mustard

2009-06-19T12:03:00.007-04:00

For the most part, I think all the food that's going to be discovered has been discovered. All we're getting now are variations on the same theme. As a matter of fact, someone out there thinks they can bring back old food, in new packages, and act like they've discovered the 8th wonder of the world. For instance the re-emergence of Hydrox. Who wants to eat vintage cookies, anyhow? And since when did Hydrox get more expensive than Oreo’s? HELLO??

Anyhow, I digress.

By this point in my life, I think I should have a fairly good grasp on what foods I like and don't like.

For example:

Beans = REALLY bad

Rigged potato chips = bad (think Ruffles)

Broccoli = not bad, but not good, either. Just kinda there.

Chocolate = good

Caramel = Better

Mexican food with no beans, no rice and a dessert of chocolate and caramel = BESTEST OF ALL BESTS!

Toss in a Coke Light and I’m in ecstasy.

So it came as a shock to me a few weeks back when I realized, I don’t like mustard. Specifically, I don’t like mustard on hot dogs. My whole life I’ve thought that when you get a hot dog you get ketchup (Heinz, of course), mustard (yellow) and relish (sweet). Now I’ve always known that I prefer hot dogs over hamburgers, I figured that out at the ripe old age of 6. But this whole non-mustard thing was news to me.

It made me think about other things I assume about my eating preferences:

Spaghetti = thin or regular? Turns out neither – I prefer rigatoni.

Bread = white or wheat? Grew up eating white and switched to wheat when it became popular to do so. Truthfully, I don’t like bread.

Pizza = Pepperoni or sausage? This was nearly as shocking as mustard. I prefer plain cheese.

Ice cream = chocolate or vanilla. THANK GOD that is one truth I hold to be self evident: CHOCOLATE!

All of this made me think about things in my Christian life that I assume, some correctly (like chocolate ice cream) and some incorrectly (like mustard).

God loves me = WOOT!!

God only wants HIS best for me = BONUS!!

My best is always His best = Um…. Well… no…

If I obsess about something enough, it will eventually become God’s best = there just aren’t enough words to describe how wrong that is.

If what I think is best never happens then God doesn’t love me and He doesn’t want His best for me. Nobody loves me, everybody hates me, I think I’ll go eat worms = OK, someone just slap me now.

Where in the world do all these incorrect regular spaghetti, white bread, pepperoni pizza assumptions come from? I don’t have the answers. I don’t have any one to even blame it on. Satan comes to mind, but that’s probably too easy. Laziness? Possibly. Selfishness? Definitely. Immaturity? Probably. Human self-centeredness? Yeah ok – I’ll blame me.

What I do know is that just like my radical shift in how I eat hot dogs, I also need to do some radical shifting in how I view God. I think the hot dog thing was easier, but I think the God-thing will be better.

I also know that tomorrow for lunch I’m having hot dogs - slightly burnt with Heinz ketchup and sweet relish.

Just hold the mustard.

Back When I Was Sports Editor

2009-06-18T09:29:00.003-04:00

Maybe I was in high school and maybe I knew absolutely NOTHING about sports when I started, but for two FUN years, I got to go to every WHS football, basketball and… well… that was it. I think I avoided all other Wilkinsburg High School sporting events. I’m fairly certain we had a baseball team and a wrestling team. Oh yeah and there was a golf and tennis team, too… I think. Where is my Yearbook?

But this brief foray into the wild world of sports bred in me a love for all things team sports related. And, being from Pittsburgh, this means that I bleed black and gold. Particularly when it comes to the Steelers, but during the off season, I’ll root for the Penguins and even the Pirates. We don’t have a pro basketball team, so my allegiance goes to college ball – Kentucky… don’t ask why. (As for soccer – well that’s been a more recent passion (10 years or so) and my loyalty is TOTALLY for the JV United, because, again, Pittsburgh doesn’t have a pro soccer team.)

Naturally, the fact that 2009 is turning out to be a mighty fine year for us Pittsburghers, is… well… WONDERFUL.

After the second Steelers pre-season game I declared that we were going all the way and winning the Super Bowl. The guys in my office, laughed at me. Who’s laughing now, boys?

After the 1st Stanley Cup playoff game, I thought, yeah, we’re taking this one too.

Now it's the Bucs turn (Bucs is what we Pittsburghers lovingly call the Pirates – and that a whole other story). I confess, however, I don’t have those same feelings. Mainly because my love for baseball faded during the strike many years ago and mainly because I think the Pirates are under WAY too much pressure right now.

Think about. How would you feel if you played for the Pittsburgh Pirates? Can you imagine the pressure? It’s not bad enough that it’s been 20 years since your team has played in the World Series, but the other 2 major sporting teams in your city have reached the pinnacle of their sport and you’re ranked 22 with a 30 and 33 record and you’re closer to the bottom than the top. No pressure dudes. Just play ball.

However, I would like to go on record as saying that I TOTALLY believe that the JV United of Jacinto Village, Toledo District, Belize, CA are going to win the 2009 TIDE Freshwater Cup this Sunday. This is HUGE! Not only for the guys I know who are involved with this team, but for all of Jacinto and Punta Gorda.

I’m just glad that none of those guys are from Pittsburgh and that most likely I’m the only Pittsburgher rooting for them. Again, the pressure.

But as for the dear Buccos – you can do it guys! You wear black & gold just like any other professional athlete in Pittsburgh and you can make your city proud!! Ignore the nail-biting end of the Super Bowl and tense moments of the Stanley Cup. Win the Pennant Race in your own unique style and way.

Let’s Go Bucs!!

Today I Wore My Danskos. News at 11.

2009-06-17T07:38:00.005-04:00

First off, let me make a disclaimer: THIS IS NOT AN OBAMA BASH!!

This morning, as every morning, I was watching the Today Show (or as I prefer to call it, The Matt Lauer Show). And this morning, as they do every morning, they began the show by giving 10 second blips about their hot, upcoming topics/stories for the show. One of today's hot topics: President Obama killed a fly.

Seriously.

No really, it was.

A hot story.

And, as if 7:30 AM EST they haven't just talked about it once, they've talked about it 3 times.

Seriously.

No really!

Obviously, we've entered a slow news season. Just look at how much time is being devoted to Jon & Kate? I mean, OH MY STARS!! Can you just imagine if Jon or Kate killed a fly?

It's probably just a matter of time before the ASPCA sues the President for his cruelty to animals. Please, no one tell them about Bobby, a guy I work with, who has killed at least a dozen of them (flies, not ASPCA'rs) this week. I can only imagine the amount of time that will be taken away from REAL news stories because of this.

At least Matt was absent for today's shameful display of journalism.

Of course one of the last times he was out it was because he got run over by a deer.

Seriously.

No really.

And that made headlines, too.

Today I wore my Dansko's.

News at 11.

A Herd of Butterflies

2009-06-16T12:42:00.005-04:00

I'm still working on unpacking the whole redemption vs. restoration thing (I'm having a hard time figuring out what to put in the top left hand drawer), but an interesting sidebar has popped up: forgive and forget.

Can you? Do you have to? Can you truly forgive someone without forgetting? And can someone really have a herd of butterflies and not have forgiven (don’t try to understand that)?

My friend Amanda and I were chatting on this very subject last night. She told me that her grandmother told her that you haven’t truly forgiven if you haven’t forgotten. Huh.... Now I am certainly no expert on, well on anything really, but certainly on the whole human psyche thing, but I'm fairly confident that it is nigh and unto impossible to forget (short of the whole amnesia thing, of course). I think you can stop dwelling on it constantly, but to literally forget something at the moment of or near to the act of forgiveness has taken place... well I just don't think so.

For example, I have BEYOND forgiven Jen for giving Mike my blankie to wrap up his table in the back of his pick-up, but even though it's been YEARS since this unfortunate incident, I haven't forgotten (ok, so I only remembered it like 10 minutes ago when I was trying to think of an example, but still I remembered!). I really, honestly believe in my heart that I have forgiven Jen. And I hope AND PRAY that she knows that I've forgiven her (she probably doesn’t even remember the whole incident). But does the fact that I've remembered, even if it is something I haven't thought about in YEARS mean that I've not really forgiven her?

I really think that the only One able to forgive and forget, i.e. to give us total and complete amnesty is God. Amnesty is the act of pardoning past acts. It’s an act of oblivion derived from the Greek word amnesia, meaning to forget.

Whereas this One [Christ], after He had offered a single sacrifice for our sins [that shall avail] for all time, sat down at the right hand of God, then to wait until His enemies should be made a stool beneath His feet. For by a single offering He has forever completely cleansed and perfected those who are consecrated and made holy. And also the Holy Spirit adds His testimony to us [in confirmation of this]. For having said, ‘This is the agreement (testament, covenant) that I will set up and conclude with them after those days, says the Lord: I will imprint My laws upon their hearts, and I will inscribe them on their minds (on their inmost thoughts and understanding), He then goes on to say, and their sins and their lawbreaking I will remember no more.’

Hebrews 10:12-17 (Amplified Bible)

Only God will ever really, TRULY have amnesia when it comes to forgetting our sins (only if we truly repent, that is). The rest of us will just have to do our darndest when it comes to forgetting. There are many, MANY things I hope folks have forgotten about, just as there are many things I’ve forgotten about. But I know forgiveness is there. There has to be – otherwise how many friendships and relationships would be ruined without forgiveness?

Unlike God, who forgives and forgets the moment we repent, for me, forgiveness sometimes takes time. That’s not ideal, but that’s the truth. Sometimes it’s quick, often it’s not, but it does come. Forgetting – well that’s different. I want to forget and sometimes, like now, forgetting would be a welcomed friend. But just like Jen and my blankie, forgetting takes time and is never really achieved. But the forgiveness is there completely.

And as for the herd of butterflies, turns out you don’t need to forgive or forget to have them.

Be even-tempered, content with second place, quick to forgive an offense. Forgive as quickly and completely as the Master forgave you. And regardless of what else you put on, wear love. It's your basic, all-purpose garment. Never be without it.

Colossians 3:12-13 (The Message)

Quickly and completely.

Redemption & Restoration

2009-06-08T11:22:00.002-04:00

So I'm trying to unpack some thoughts on redemption and restoration. Can something be redeemed without being restored and can you have restoration without redemption?

Thoughts??

Redeem: to make up for; make amends for; offset (some fault, shortcoming, etc.): His bravery redeemed his youthful idleness; to obtain the release or restoration of, as from captivity, by paying a ransom; to deliver from sin and its consequences by means of a sacrifice offered for the sinner.

Restore: to bring back into existence, use, or the like; reestablish: to restore order; to bring back to a former, original, or normal condition, as a building, statue, or painting; to put back to a former place, or to a former position, rank, etc.: to restore the king to his throne; to give back; make return or restitution of (anything taken away or lost); to reproduce or reconstruct (an ancient building, extinct animal, etc.) in the original state.

I don't know the answers to this, but I wanna figure it out. Any thoughts, etc., that y'all wanna pass along would be GREATLY appreciated!

Please Don't Hate Me

2009-06-05T10:28:00.004-04:00

I didn’t vote for Barack Obama. I voted for the OTHER person that was running. My reasons are certainly not important to this particular post. But we lost. And I accept that. Most importantly I accept that the person who DID win is the person that God wanted in control of this beautiful country I live in.

Did ya catch that?

The part about GOD being in control??

I have complete confidence that on November 4, 2008, God didn’t take a nap. He wasn’t preoccupied with what’s going on in the Sudan. He wasn’t playing Solitaire on His MacBook Pro (remember, God would be a Mac). Well actually I guess He could have been doing all of that because HE IS GOD and He can pretty much do EVERYTHING at once and give EVERYTHING His complete and undivided attention. All at the same time.

He is God.

What I mean is that, GOD KNOWS WHO THE PRESIDENT OF THE US IS! He didn’t let Satan have this one. He didn’t smack his head Wednesday morning and go, “STINK! How did THAT happen??” Only He knows President Obama’s heart. Only He knows President Obama’s sincerity.

He is God.

And, the most important thing of all is what He wrote:

"Everyone must submit himself to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God established. The authorities that exist have been established by God. Consequently, he who rebels against the authority is rebelling against what God has instituted, and those who do so will bring judgment on themselves. For rulers hold no terror for those who do right, but for those who do wrong. Do you want to be free from fear of the one in authority? Then do what is right and he will commend you. For he is God's servant to do you good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword for nothing. He is God's servant, an agent of wrath to bring punishment on the wrongdoer. Therefore, it is necessary to submit to the authorities, not only because of possible punishment but also because of conscience. This is also why you pay taxes, for the authorities are God's servants, who give their full time to governing."

Romans 13:1-6

Barack Obama is human, and therefore, by his very nature, a sinner. So am I! And, guess what? His sins are NO WORSE than mine! And yes, he is an elected public official who should be and needs to be held to a higher standard than a peon like me. BUT he is not in office accidentally. I think some of us may have lost sight of this fact.

God knows who the President of the United States is.

Recently I’ve been assaulted by an amazing number of people via email, FaceBook updates, Tweets, etc., who all feel the need to bash, smash and generally make it known that they feel that our current president is terrible. And while I love and appreciate all of my friends out there who are enjoying this time, let me remind you, that you too are sinners. I’m sorry we lost. I’m sorry the other guy won. But, for me, I need to trust that ultimately God is in control. And if Barack Obama being elected president signifies the end of the world then YEAH! I’m going home!

But, maybe, just MAYBE, God has different plans that we know nothing about. Maybe, just MAYBE we need to listen to His Word and submit ourselves to the governing authorities. Maybe, just MAYBE we need to live to a higher standard ourselves and not stoop to a level so low that we embarrass ourselves. And maybe, just MAYBE, we need to take the time we’re using to bash and smash and pray, on our knees, for President Obama, our country and ourselves.

It’s just a thought.

Don’t hate me.

Oh yeah, and I am FULLY aware of our freedom speech and couldn’t have MORE respect for the men and women who sacrificed their lives so that we could have this freedom. That’s why I’m writing this post.

To The Owners of All Public Establishments

2009-05-30T13:49:00.003-04:00

I am NOT a germophobe. But there are certain things just give me the willies.

Roaches in my house (well in my food, too).

Wet water (that’s water you step in while wearing socks).

Getting served fish heads for dinner (ok, so that happened like ONCE in my life – obviously I have a hard time letting things go).

Having to touch a bathroom handle after washing my hands and knowing that there’s a good chance that someone before me DID NOT wash their hands before touching that same handle.

Think about it.

EEEEWWWWW!

Thanks to Matt Lauer I have learned to always take an extra towel after washing my hands and place that towel between the offending handle and my now clean hands.

Here’s where you come in, owners-of-all-public-establishments:

If you refuse to have a trash can some where near the door I will drop that towel on the floor.

Deal with it.

Or get a trash can near the door.

Or get a door that can be pushed open without have to touch a handle.

Ok?

I Realized Something This Morning

2009-05-29T11:19:00.006-04:00

I am really angry with God.

Really.

And maybe it’s misplaced and maybe it’s wrong, but it’s real.

Really real.

And it’s not like I’m blaming God for my singleness or my lack of wealth, the war in Iraq, the cost of postage stamps or Chuck not returning until January. It’s very specific. And until today, I didn’t realize how much I was allowing that anger to affect my relationship with Him.

Really affect it.

I was still praying – but they weren’t sincere. I kinda read my bible. But other than this past Saturday, my times with Him were stilted… forced and overall blah.

Really.

And it’s my fault – the anger, the frustration, the wall I’ve started to build between Him and me. But He didn’t answer a prayer the way I wanted, or the way I thought He should or when or how I thought He should. Gosh – could I sound any more like a petulant child throwing a tantrum?

Or maybe He did. Maybe it’s the timing, the length of time or WHATEVER, but the truth of the matter, regardless of it being right or wrong, I am really angry…

With God?

With me?

With the situation?

I think God’s ok with me being angry at Him. I know He can handle it. He knows the reality. He knows the truth. He knows my heart. And He knows that somewhere in South Carolina is a girl whose heart is still aching and who needs her Daddy to love her in spite of her anger. He knows that each day it gets better.

Really.

I Yearn For Blind Devotion

2009-05-28T12:21:00.005-04:00

"I yearn for blind devotion - unthinking, unwavering - a cause, a thing, a principle worthy of absolute loyalty. A truth self-medicating, a love unabating, something - anything - to which I relinquish all personal responsibility. Semper Fi, 'Til Death Do Us Part,' In Nomine Patris, Let's Go Mets. To the true believers, the lucky few, of thee I sing."

Mary Shannon, In Plain Sight

What am I devoted to?

I certainly know who (that would be God) but WHAT?

What cause?

What thing?

What principle is worthy of my absolute loyalty?

Is there anything I feel that strongly about? Or do my fears keep rooted firmly in mediocrity?

I read a blog recently by one of my favorite bloggers, Anne Jackson. Her question, "What is the biggest dream in your heart?" Well that just flat out terrified me. My biggest dream is so big that I refuse to even think about it. Seriously. I’ve never even told anyone.

No one.

Not Jen, Jamie, Lisa or Amanda. And if the 4 of them ever got together, they’d pretty much know EVERYTHING about me.

Except this.

The mere thought that this dream, as big as it is, as terrifying as it is, could actually be from God – well that just causes me to shut down. Is that dream worthy of my blind devotion? Is it something I’d be willing to relinquish all personal responsibility?

Absolutely.

YIKES!

What are your biggest dreams, my friends? Are they big enough to scare you? Are they worthy of your absolute loyalty?

(I apologize for the seriousness of all of this. But it’s Thursday. And it’s been 4 weeks. And for that reason alone, today is serious. And now I have all these extra thoughts to unpack. But that’s ok. Because it is Thursday. And Amanda, tonight at 7:30 I’m going to do what you suggested.)

I Steal Pens

2009-05-27T11:55:00.004-04:00

I have a confession.

I steal pens.

No, I’m not talking those cheap BIC pens that the entire world seems to have a million of in their home yet no one seems to ever remember buying them. And I’m not talking expensive Mon Blanc one’s either (now THAT would be a sin!!). I’m talking NICE, every day pens or unusual ones, or ones that write nice or whatever. Pens. Just pens.

My latest acquisition is a Pentel HyperG 07, black. I lifted it from my boss. It was sitting back on our kitchen table, I picked it up, doodled on the napkin it was next to, and I knew, I KNEW I had to have it.

It was like the first time I saw the bootleg copy of a Bay City Rollers album FROM ENGLAND in that funky record store in East Hills – I had to have it. (NO! I did NOT steal the album… I begged and BEGGED my mom for it.)

Yeah just like that.

Even as I type this, I’m staring at a Pilot P-500 Extra Fine, blue, that I lifted from my friend Lisa’s house (I told her about that one and she GRACIOUSLY gave me another when I whinned about how the ink was running low).

And somewhere on my desk is a red pen that my roomie loaned me to read (and correct) a paper she was working on. I gave back the paper; I still have the pen.

I even once stole a pen from a waitress at Outback. But that was because it had Jim Stewart’s name on it and I worked for Ritchie Skipper. The waitress called me on it. I apologized. Left her one of those cheap Bic pens (seriously WHO buys those things and why are there so many of them in the world) and tossed the Jim Stewart pen in the trash as soon as I walked outside.

I do, however, have rules:

The pens MUST be owned by someone. Not necessarily someone I know, just someone. I don’t steal pens from a store or anything. (Well there was that one that I found sitting on the shelf next to the coffee in Walmart. CLEARLY with someone’s shopping list… I did take that one home. But only after I did my shopping and went back and it was STILL there. It was a BIC Mark-it Fine Point Permanent Marker – TUXEDO BLACK afterall!!)

They must write well. I mean, seriously, what is the use of taking a cheap pen?

If the owner of the pen will get totally annoyed over losing the pen… oh yeah, that pen is MINE!

I keep the pen until it totally dies. And even then, I tend to keep them. I have this box in the bottom of my desk at home filled with pens (and a few pencils) that I’ve lifted over the years.

And if I can blame it on someone else – all the better. I had my entire office convinced that someone else in that office stole all the pens. And, technically, she did take most of them. But again, they were those DARN cheap ones. I only lifted the cool ones.

Oh yeah, I steal pens.

“Don’t Worry Miss, I’ll Save Your Bunny!”

2009-05-26T08:12:00.003-04:00

I don’t exactly live in the hicks. I live about 30 minutes outside of a semi-large metropolitan area about ½ a mile from a HUGE lake. It’s a fairly well developed area, even if we don’t have a Moe’s or Starbucks. But I certainly wouldn’t call it the hicks.

Ok, so maybe I did come face-to-face with a deer on Christmas Day 2008 as I walked Lucy (my dog) early in the morning.

And maybe we did nearly trip over a fox one morning as it darted out in front of us.

But really, I don’t live in the hicks.

This evening, however, as I took Lucy for a walk I began to doubt that. We had just crossed the little bridge over the little stream next to my house and I was trying to snap Lucy’s leash on when out of nowhere a tiny little bunny went hoping between Lucy’s legs then between my legs. Before either of us had a chance to react a cat went darting the same way.

That’s when Lucy took off.

Then that’s when I took off. And there we all went, running down the middle of my street.

Bunny. Cat. Lucy. Me.

Now thankfully Lucy’s getting old, so catching her was no big deal. And just as I snapped her leash on, I heard an AWFUL noise.

Horrible.

And I looked up and the cat had the bunny in its mouth.

So I did what any normal “I’d-choose-a-cute-bunny-over-a-cat-any-day” person would do – I took Lucy’s leash off and told her to go get the cat.

And she did. (I was so proud of my girl!)

I caught up to Lucy and the cat went darting off in the opposite direction.

And the bunny? It went hopping down the street as far away from the madness as it could get toward the woods and away from civilization.

Suddenly my neighbor came running out of his house yelling, “Don’t worry Miss, I’ll save your bunny!”

My hero.

If I wasn't such a white girl

2009-05-25T10:22:00.008-04:00

A couple of years ago I read a book (I believe it was by Beth Moore called Get Out Of That Pit) and in it the author encourages us to take time to really, REALLY confess our sins. Not just the “forgive me Father for I have sinned” sort of confession, but really REALLY taking a dedicated time – on your face – just pure, pure confession.

Everything.

Even the sins you think He doesn’t see.

And to you all, I will confess, that though I tried to have one of those experiences, I don’t know, it just didn’t happen for me. It certainly wasn’t like I didn’t have sins to confess, good heavens, quite the opposite! But… I don’t know… Certainly I confess my sins, but to have one of those purely cleansing moments, where afterward you feel nearly giddy and light and

Clean

Yeah that’s it.

Saturday, I had one of those experiences. I knew I had unconfessed sins in my life. I had been struggling with them for a time and I was at the point of just not caring. It was easier to wallow in the sin than it was to confess them. Because, after all, I knew that it was those sins that kept God from blessing me, knew that God was punishing me for my sins. I felt unworthy, unlovable, unclean. And I felt like there was nothing I could do about it. Right?

Dang, Satan’s good, huh?

Saturday morning I talked with a good friend. He was telling me about a conversation he was going to have with a mutual friend that day. I knew I needed to pray for that conversation and for that friend. But I couldn’t. I hadn’t been able to really pray for that friend for weeks. And I realized it had nothing to do with that friend, it had everything to do with me. (This is one time when it truly is all about me.)

So I hung up the phone and fell to my knees. There were moments when I didn’t think I could get out what I wanted to say to God fast enough. And there were moments when all I could do was just cry out. Cry out for His forgiveness. Cry out for His mercy. Cry out for His grace.

And it happened.

I felt giddy. I don’t mean that “holy laughter” type of giddiness. Just purely giddy from experiencing His forgiveness.

I felt light. I felt like I had taken off this enormous amount of weight off my shoulders and out of my heart. If I wasn’t such a white girl, I would have danced.

I felt clean.

And I was.

And I could finally, FINALLY pray for that friend. And mean it. From my heart really, REALLY mean it.

I know, and I try to, daily confess my sins. But I also realize that there are times in my life where that isn’t enough. That sometimes I need to get on my knees and with a heart so humbled and so broken that all I can do is cry out.

And let Him take care of the rest.

A Little Of This & A Little Of That

2009-05-22T13:28:00.002-04:00

These are some of the cool things that I came upon or that happened this week. Totally random stuff. But kinda cool none-the-less.

I wrote a post earlier this week on a review I did on a book called, Mad Church Disease. The author, Anne Jackson, posted a comment on my blog! (Let me put this in perspective for y’all – to me, that’s like Kris Allen from American Idol calling everyone who voted for him and saying, “Thanks.”)

I read, what is possibly going to be my favorite new phrase, on a blog called, Stuff Christians Like by Jon Acuff, “He unpacked the thought further and said…” I LOVE THAT. Unpacking thoughts. HOW COOL! (I think my friend Jen Allcroft turned me on to that blog – THANK YOU JEN!!)

And I got the following in the mail. It was just junk mail and normally it wouldn’t even make it to the kitchen counter (the keeping place of all things mailed), but this piece… well it was priceless

Enough said.

It's Thursday

2009-05-21T15:57:00.010-04:00

I’ve been avoiding writing today’s blog for many reasons - none of which are even remotely logical or anything. It’s all totally emotional (hey – I’m a girl, deal with it!).

Today marks 3 weeks. And in some way it’s as hard today as it was 3 weeks ago.

Saturday I got a sweet, SWEET card in the mail (snail mail – I LOVE SNAIL MAIL!) from an even sweeter friend. And I will confess – I skimmed the card once, bawled like a baby, tucked it in my purse and have been avoiding it (and the friend).

Until today.

Because it’s Thursday.

And it’s been 3 weeks.

And today, I needed to feel it all and cry again.

So I am.

And at some point I’m going to have to deal with all the pain and all the emotions, but for now, I’m not. And that’s the naked, honest truth. I’m not dealing with it. And because of the situation, I’m not sure if I’ll ever really get to write about it. But those who need to know, know. Those who need to comfort, comfort (and in a amazing way). And those who need to be missed, are missed greatly.

Because it’s Thursday.

And it’s been 3 weeks.

(And to that sweet friend, thank you. I have read that card and those verses several times today. You have no idea how much they have touched me. I love you.)

Hello, I'm a Mac.

2009-05-19T14:12:00.003-04:00

The other night my friend Lisa and I were talking online about whatever it is that single adult woman talk about when they don’t have a single adult man in their lives. We were on Facebook (and who isn’t these days) and I realized that our friend, Tommy Head, was online.

Now most of you out there are saying, “woo” but what many of you may not realize is that Tommy Head died nearly a month ago. So THead being online was… well… creepy.

Really creepy.

And although logic told me that it wasn’t REALLY THead (most likely it was his wife, Angela), this didn’t stop me from asking Lisa, “So, do you think they have wireless in heaven?”

From there, our conversation went kinda downhill.

And then we landed on, “So is God a Mac or a PC?” We both agreed that God would be a Mac – because God, after all, is the epitome of cool, hip and all that. The vision of God ruling the world, organizing prayer requests, playing the occasional game or 2, Googling stuff, all on His MacBook Pro (it would have to be a laptop because… well… God IS omnipresent!) is humorous and yes, a bit sacrilege. (And no, TECHNICALLY God would not need to Google ANYTHING because He already knows.)

Sorry all you die-hard PC’s out there. I feel your pain. But it’s true. The God of our Universe would be a Mac.

Me?

I’m a PC.

Are You Mad?

2009-05-18T09:36:00.005-04:00

I ventured into the whole world of blogging because my friend, Jamie, told me about someone she heard speak at Catalyst 2008. Her name is Anne Jackson and she wrote a book called “Mad Church Disease” about overcoming the burnout epidemic, specifically the burnout epidemic in church and full-time ministry. I read her blog, a sample chapter of her book and thought, “Oh my stars, here is someone who KNOWS me!”

So I started following her blog and reading some of her older posts and I read a post titled, “Attend Catalyst For Free!” Well after all of the great and WONDERFUL things I heard about the 2008 conference, I thought, SIGN ME UP!! So I followed the instructions on what to do (which entailed emailing someone who works for her publisher) and OH YEAH – I am a Dork (and yes, that is with a capital D!). Ya see… it was an OLD post and it was for the 2008 conference… and well… yeah… ok… Dork.

BUT the nice person at Zondervan asked if they sent me a FREE copy of the book (which had just been released) would I read it and post a review on Amazon.com. Well… let me think about it… YES!!!

So they sent it.

I read it.

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t write the review. Nearly every single part of that book SCREAMED to me. It was as if Anne lived my life and was writing about it. The details were different, but the experiences were the same. The burnout was the same. The guilt, the shame, the despair, all of it – Anne Jackson wrote a book just for me.

So, without further adieu, here is the review I had promised to write a few months ago. If you have EVER worked either as a volunteer or in a paid position for any sort of ministry (church and non-church) read this book.

And Jeanne, if you’re reading this – I’m sending you my copy this week.

Mad Church Disease: Overcoming the Burnout Epidemic is more than a book about Anne Jackson’s experience with her own struggles and it’s more than a book about how to deal with burnout, it was, for me, a realization that what I went through, all my experiences, all my tears, were not just because I wasn’t good enough.

My experiences in full-time ministry weren’t unique, NOR were they awful. I was an imperfect person working for imperfect people and I failed them as much as they failed me. This book helped me realize that and it helped me forgive myself for all my short-comings.

I think anyone, be it a volunteer or paid staff who is working in ministry should be given a copy of this book on their 1st day or right away. It should be required reading at every Christian school, every missions agency and every church.

If possible I would give this book to every friend I have and nigh and unto demand that they read it. For now I’ll settle for blogging about it, talking about it and FINALLY dealing with it.

Gloves, Shoes and a Christmas Sweater

2009-05-17T10:23:00.008-04:00

I am a list maker.

I’m not OCD about it or anything, it just helps keep me on task. Otherwise I wander around doing useless things or come home from the store with 10 boxes of cake mix and nothing to eat for dinner (hey –they were 10 for $10!!).

I always put little boxes in front of each item, but once they are completed I cross them off with a vengeance!

My list for this weekend included, “Clean closet.” Now I’m not the neatest person in the world, however, I’m not the messiest person either. But for the last few weeks my closet has driven me to the brink. And, for the last week I’ve just avoided it all together.

That’s bad.

So this weekend I was going to tackle my closet. And initially when I thought about making that the topic of this post I was going to just talk about my silly list making and my messy closet and for some inane reason I thought anyone who reads this would be interested in seeing my closet. So I grabbed my camera, took some stuff out so it didn’t look TOO messy and snapped a picture.

Really bad, isn’t it?

There are the winter gloves that have been in that very spot for just over 2 months.

The pile of stuff that was to go to Belize in June, which I just don’t have the emotional energy to do anything with… sigh…

A Christmas sweater that should be put someplace else.

And the shoes – I literally had to walk past the rack they go on in order leave them on the spot they are now.

My mom would be so disappointed.

Ok, but did anyone catch what I said? I “took some stuff out so it didn’t look TOO messy.”

Over the last few days I’ve had folks comment to me about my blog (cracks me up that folks read it) about how open, honest and vulnerable I am in it. But the truth is I clean out the closet of my life, too, before I toss it out in the world for all to see (all 3 of ya).

Because if y’all really knew what was in there… well I don’t even want to begin to think what y'all would do or think.

But I can’t hide what’s in my closet from God. He knows about every pair of gloves, every shoe, and every Christmas sweater. He even knows about the pile of stuff to go to Belize, and how even as I type this I’m crying, and how I still am having a hard time putting that pile away

I can’t hide anything from God. And as much as I’d like to and as often as I try, I know it’s best for me if I don’t. God loves me in spite of the messiness that’s in my closet. He loves me regardless of how many pairs of gloves are left on the floor. He especially loves me as I deal with that Belize pile.

Storyville and Northland await my friends. I pray you have a worshipful day.

Now THAT'S a Good Cup of Coffee!!

2009-05-16T08:18:00.013-04:00

In a few moments I will venture into unchartered territory. I am a tried and true a-little-bit-of-coffee-with-my-artificial-sweetener-and-sugar-free-powdered- creamer girl. But in a little while, I’m going to have my very first cup of French pressed coffee… black.

I have all my ducks in a row… newly purchased Burr grinder, newly purchased Brazilian French press, and recently received Storyville coffee beans. (Turns out, when I try something new, I jump in with both feet.) I have watched the DVD that accompanies the beans, all the accoutrements are laid out on my counter, my bottled water is heating (no tap water for this girl!), my press and mug are warming, and my beans are waiting to be ground.

I AM BECOMING A COFFEE SNOB!

But, y’all, one sniff of Storyville, and OH MY STARS! It’s hands down, the most perfect smell in the world. It beats out puppy breath, a freshly powdered baby and newly cut grass, hands down. The beans were just roasted on May 5^th, shipped to me and when I got my 1^st whiff – I thought surely I had died and gone to heaven.

I have been anticipating this moment for a week. And yes, I could have experienced this on an ordinary Monday through Friday, but for some reason I needed to make this 1^st experience something special. My bible and journal are waiting in my favorite chair and in a few moments… oh wait - my water is about to boil and I need to grind the beans… I’ll finish this in a bit.

WOW!

OH MY STARS!!

Sweet mystery of life at last you found me!!

I honestly am not exaggerating when I say that the founders of Storyville should be nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize (how does that work I wonder? Does some insignificant blogger in South Carolina say it and suddenly it happens?? Sorry – I digress...)

I had no idea coffee could be so good. And if doing this ritual makes me a coffee snob, then so bit it!

Yeah… this is good stuff.

Huh… here’s a thought (hang with me for just a moment) – I became a Christian when I was 5. Pretty much all I remember is my mom crying when my brother and I came home from Vacation Bible School and told her. I certainly don’t remember having experienced any euphoria or joy (though I’m sure it was there). And I certainly don’t remember that urge to run out and tell everyone one I know, “Kids, throw down your Babies, I’ve just found Jesus!!”

After my 1^st sip of Storyville my thoughts were (after WOW!!), “I can’t wait to tell Lisa!” “I’ve got to get Greg some of this for his birthday!!” “I need to RT to Vernon and tell him THANKS!!”

I’m fixin’ to do my quiet time and today I’m going to be reading/meditating/journaling on Luke 11:14-23. How many people will I want to rush out and shout, “Guess what I just learned about Jesus!”?

Storyville is great.

Jesus is greater.

Storyville will save me from a bad cup of coffee made with stale beans.

Jesus will save me from hell.

Storyville will satisfy my needs for a good cup of coffee.

Jesus will satisfy my needs for everything… always… forever.

Which of these things should I be talking about most?

I’m going to enjoy this cup of coffee like no one’s business. I’m going to savor my time with God.

Y’all have a good day.

I saved an earthworm

2009-05-15T08:18:00.002-04:00

I know - right??!!??

An earthworm… ME! I picked it up WITH MY VERY OWN FINGERS and flung into the grass. Well now that I’m reading that, maybe the flinging part wasn’t all that great – but my intentions were good! So now instead of inching along the pavement that was rough and hard and not very pretty and where surely it was going to get smushed, it could now do what it does best (and I have no idea what that is).

So here’s my wondering for today: am I inching along the pavement waiting to get smushed OR do I need to get flung into the grass where God can use me best? (My theology may be a bit off here, but you get what I’m saying, right?) Maybe the pavement is where God wants me right now? Maybe He’s using the rough pavement to smooth me out. Or is getting smushed God’s way of gently disciplining me and making me into the woman He wants me to be? Am I content to hang out on the pavement never knowing the beauty of the tall grass? Or do I need to be flung into the soft grass?

I don’t know the answers to these questions. I know the earthworm was worming its way toward the grass, but is that what I’m doing? I hope so. I PRAY SO!

Where are you today, my friends? Are you inching along the pavement waiting to get smushed or are you enjoying the soft soil of God’s love and peace?

(Oh yeah, and I immediately went home and washed my hands… like 4 times…. Just in case, ya know.)

Todd Daily

2009-05-14T09:05:00.008-04:00

(Or, “No Hope, Jordan Leigh & Rachel, there is no Todd Daily”)

I had been praying for something for nearly every day for 509 days. That’s a long time.

Some days, my prayers were so intense that I cried and other days I felt like I was just going through the motions. On most of those days I felt, quite honestly, like God wasn’t even listening to me. Because no matter how I prayed and no matter what I did, it just seemed like He was silent on the whole issue. And it wasn’t one of those, no not now silences, it was silent silent.

Not a word.

Not a single word.

And it’s amazing how you can start to totally doubt just about EVERYTHING when you feel like God isn’t listening to you. You begin to wonder if He’s hearing anything you say. Question everything. Trust nothing. Insecurities abound. Hopelessness flows freely.

Gosh it’s tough being me some days.

Then on day 497 (no I’m not that good – I use www.timeanddate.com/) I was driving some friends, John & Lisa Gotz, from Florence back to Columbia. They are missionaries in Belize and, good heavens if anyone’s going to be full of wisdom on all things God, surely seasoned missionaries are, right?! So I posed the question to them, “What do you do if you pray and pray and PRAY for something and it seems like God is ignoring your prayers?”

I figured I’d initially get the pat answer of God answers prayers in one of 3 ways, “No, yes and not now.” But you gotta trust me on this, there was silence from God (or so I thought). Not a single no, yes or even a not now. So I deflected that answer by showing off my God-knowledge and saying that I knew the 3-ways answer and it was none of those.

So after a few moment s of silence, during which I’m thinking, “THIS IS GONNA BE GOOD! “ John finally says, “Huh, I dunno.”

Excuse me??

Then, John asks, “Are you talking to Todd Daily about this?”

Todd Daily, WHO IS TODD DAILY? Will he have the answers to my questions? Does he know what God has in store for me and this situation? IS TODD DAILY SINGLE??

Turns out, I need to buy some new Q-Tips. What John actually said was, “Are you talking to God daily?”

Well DUH! Of course I was!! That’s part of the problem!! I’m talking to Him daily and He’s not talking back!

Then John so wisely says, “Well there ya go, Alice. God will answer, in His time. But maybe, just maybe, right now He’s enjoying this time with you. He’s enjoying this relationship you’re building with Him.”

Huh… well I hadn’t thought about that (that’s why they’re missionaries and I’m not). I guess my relationship with God outweighed my timing on an answer. Hearing that, accepting that and soaking that in made all the difference in the world. And it made getting the answer on day 509 a wee bit easier.

(Oh and FYI – there are about 7 Todd Daily’s on Facebook. I wonder if any of them are single…)

Shower, rinse, repeat

2009-05-13T09:45:00.000-04:00

So I found a tick on me this morning. Yup a tick. My 1st one. GROSS!!!

I think it hopped on when I was out back with Lucy getting ready to roll the trash around to the front. The idea of it coming from anywhere else is enough to make me ill. I found it, made it go to tick hell (because surely there is no heaven for ticks) and took a shower.

Then another.

And another.

And if I weren’t running so late for work, I would have taken another.

I STILL feel gross and itchy and EEEEWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!

Is that how I feel when I sin? When I grieve the heart of the very One who died for me? Is the need to get that sin out of my life as urgent and necessary as the need to make sure that there was no way there was another tick on me?

Am I as anxious to live a clean, pure life for God as I am to walk out of my house clean and tick-free?

Now before you think my theology is all out of whack, I know and appreciate the fact that I just have to ask for forgiveness once and my sins are forgiven. Shower myself in God’s love and rinse away the sins. Repeat the next time I sin BUT that sin is gone, forgiven kaput.

Shower and rinse.