Above Imagination

Just Me

2010-05-21T00:21:00.000-07:00

Blogged again! :) Check it out here:

http://aboveimagination.wordpress.com/2010/05/21/just-me/

I Ain't No Halle Berry

2010-05-02T20:04:00.001-07:00

http://aboveimagination.wordpress.com/2010/05/03/i-aint-no-halle-berry/

Thinking a lot about marriage and commitment... check it out!

New Post!

2010-04-23T00:20:00.000-07:00

I was in a bad mood today... and yesterday... and the day before :) I wrote about it here : My Secret Bad Moods- Or Are they Really Secret??

remember I'm at aboveimagination.wordpress.com now! :)

New Post on the New Blog!

2010-04-21T23:34:00.000-07:00

Hey all! Just a reminder I'm at a new location-- check out my new post!

A Makeup Junkie?

New Blog Site-- Important News!

2010-04-11T19:10:00.000-07:00

New Blog Location!! AboveImagination is moving. Click the link and you'll head straight there. Same writing, different format, and some fun new pages.

If the link doesn't work, just go to http://aboveimagination.wordpress.com/. Can't wait to have you visit me there!

-K.A.

Confessions of a Love-Geek

2010-04-09T22:32:00.000-07:00

I'm a love-geek. It's embarrassing, yes, but true.

I get really, really into the relationships in the t.v. shows and movies that I like. Perhaps its because my love-life (shall we say-- the lack-thereof-love-life) is awful. Or perhaps its because I'm such a romantic at heart. Or because I truly, deeply believe in soul mates. Or its because I like really good stories.

But for whatever reason, I am a love-geek.

I think it started with Anne Shirley. Anne and Gilbert were fated to be together. I just knew it. As a little girl, watching that scene on the bridge at the end of Anne of Avonlea, I was forever changed. The sun sparkling on Anne's russet hair, the way she told him she didn't need marble halls... "I just want you," she said. I must have replayed that scene a thousand times in my head as a little girl.

Well, there's the classic Disney Beauty and the Beast. An epic love story if there ever was one. I wanted to be Belle; it didn't hurt that I have brown hair and brown eyes, just like she did. I even used to do my hair in those two loose rolls and wander around singing. The fact that she loved the Beast even though he didn't look handsome, but they shared something special.... it touched my little 8-year old heart so much that I watched that movie every morning while I ate my cereal for a least a year. I'm not kidding.

I moved on to the series, "Road to Avonlea", and waited with bated breath over seven seasons or so to see if Gus and Felicity would truly end up together. I was so glad they did.

1989 to 1991 provided for me "The Young Riders," where I hoped and prayed Lou and the Kid would make it. (They did.) I adored the movie Heidi and its sequel Courage Mountain, because of the sweet, tender and wonderful friendship between Heidi and Peter.

I got older... and the shows and movies I watched changed. My dad introduced me to "The X-Files." I learned a lot about things watching that show with my dad-- he taught me about science, psychology, mythology, and other stuff. But the longer I watched, the more I watched because of the relationship between Mulder and Scully. Let's be honest. Who didn't? I was a teenager and the just-out-of-reach-in-love-with-my-partner story was so appealing and heartwrenching.

My favorite movies as a teenager were A Far Off Place and Twister. I liked the relationships. Trudging across the desert and falling in love while you try to keep from dying; battling forces of nature only to find out you really can't live without your soul mate-- even if you still fight over who runs the lab.

On "Lost" I was rooting for Kate and Sawyer. (I haven't watched much this season, so I'm still living in the past with that one.) When "Alias" was still on television it was all about Sydney and Vaughn. I love the show "Bones"-- I think Booth and Brennan, as characters, are some of the best written and their relationship is adorable and unique (even if the writers couldn't write a good 100th episode to save their lives.)

Sweet Home Alabama and the way Josh Lucas looks at Reese Witherspoon melts my heart. I could rewatch that movie hundreds of times (and have). The hysterical relationship between the characters in What Happens in Vegas... and how their love grows makes it one of my top movies ever. I watched it FIVE times in the theater. (Pathetic, I know.)

And yes, I've succumbed to the thirteen-year-old-obessession of the "Twilight" series. It didn't begin with the movies-- Haley got me hooked on the books before they were even popular, and I will fully admit to being on Team Jacob way before the movies came out. But if I hadn't been before, the way that Taylor Lautner and Kristen Stewart portray those parts in New Moon-- and that incredible friendship from the book-- definitely, definitely has stolen my heart. Sad. Yes, very sad. I know. But true.

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You may be wondering WHY in the world I'm writing about this? Really, who cares about my silly, continuingly-adolescent obsessions with non-existant, unreal relationships in media?

It's not because I have some great desire to display my somewhat pathetic and strange interests into cyber-space.

It is because I think I recongize that great, epic, deep, soul-mate romance IS REAL. The great writers of the centuries have been writing about it since writing became anything other than etching marks in cuneiform on clay tablets to show how many cows were sold.

Tristan and Isolde, King Arthur and Guinevere (or Lancelot and Guinevere, depending),

Romeo and Juliet, Paris and Helen of Troy, Orpheus and Eurydice,

Scarlett and Rhett, Jane and Mr. Rochester, Xerxes and Esther, Ruth and Boaz,

David and Abigail...

I won't even go into the movies!

WHY do we try over and over and over and over and over and over and over again to depict something, this thing called LOVE? Why do relationships-- with their facets, their twists and turns, the heartaches and joys they bring-- never lose our interest?

I believe that humanity repeatedly creates depictions of love and romance and partnership and communion because it really exists, not because its something that doesn't.

Everything artistic and creative must start with a kernel of reality. And I think that in terms of romance, the kernel of reality is a rather large kernel.

No, I don't think that relationships are perfect, that love solves every problem, that people are sinless and that everything I see on tv or movies is real. That's absurd.

But I think that I identify-- that humanity identifies-- with the emotion of love, the act of loving, the development of relationships precisely because it is so desperately important. We are not wrong to desire or appreciate an epic kind of love.

Because God has made us to experience an epic kind of love. No holds barred, full-tilt, every-dream-come-true love. We depict it over and over and over and over again-- and identify with it so strongly-- because it is the only thing that is important.

Relationship is the primary thing. Relationship with God. Familial relationship. Friendship relationship. Romantic relationship.

People are what life is all about, and an epic romance is not something that should be scoffed at. Why do we, as Christians especially,discount and lower the pursuit of romance and relationship as being lesser than it really is?

God Himself looked at Adam and said "It is not good that man should be alone!" God Himself! He knew that Adam had all he could ever need. He had perfect relationship with His Creator. A world of wonder and beauty and intimate relationship with the God of the universe. And even GOD said, "It is not good."

I'm sick and tired of saying that I'm fine being alone.

I'm not!

I want the epic love story. I want to stand on a bridge some day like Anne Shirley and commit myself to the love of my life. I want it all. And I don't think that it is in any way contradictory to my faith in Jesus and my call from Him. If He calls me to singleness and loneliness for the rest of my life, it is absolutely His perogative. I will obey Him, even if it kills me.

BUT, I will not apologize for my deep appreciation for LOVE. Because I think it not only reflects the most deep-seated human need, but it's because it is the clearest and most definite depiction of God's love and desire for us. And that is just something of which I won't apologize for wanting a picture; a beautiful, glorious, in-depth picture through marriage.

So, I'll keep waiting. Will keep watching movies and t.v. and reading books. But settling for anything less than an Anne of Avonlea kind of love just won't do. :) I pray that if you are single and loving the Lord that you will take courage and wait for an epic, soul-deep kind of love too.

The Secret Musician

2010-04-08T23:57:00.000-07:00

I'm a secret musician.

I mean, its not as if people don't know that I play music or sing. They get a cursory glance at it, on the occassional Sunday morning or retreat. The little ditty I sing in the car, or the small chorus I pick-out when we're all sitting around doing nothing.

But no one knows that it makes my heart beat faster to make music. That music is like breathing to me. That if I have a secret dream, beyond even teaching or studying history, it would be to sing.

I look at friends like Sister-Sarah's husband, Ian, who is a gifted worship leader and musician, or my friend and worship leader Ryan, who is able to speak in the language of music in a special way. And my Haley, who's voice is of the caliber of Christina Aguilera or Beyonce (and of this I am not joking.)

They are bold with their music, their voices, their loves. I'm not as talented as they are, not as gifted musically.

I'm a secret musician. I write songs that never get heard. I have been training to be a vocalist for years. I didn't take piano or guitar lessons, but worked hard at it during my own time because it makes me HAPPY. I love worship. I love muscial theater. I love creating and flowing and communing with my Creator through music. I love performing.

But I very rarely do anything with it. Of course, like I said, there's the occasional retreat, and I do a song or two every Tuesday morning for our women's bible study.

Yet, deep inside me there is this epic, rolling, growing ache to stretch my wings, to express myself through this thing that I love so much. Its to the point that I don't care if I can't sing like Haley, or write like Ryan, or capture a room like Ian. How do you NOT do something you love? I just don't know exactly where to do it........

One of the strangest things about blogging is sharing the deepest parts of my life without having the faces of the people to whom I'm writing in front of me. I said something random to Brandon about something I love yesterday, and he said he already knew that (he almost always does know anyway), but even if he hadn't he said he could just have read my blog. I forget that its all out there, but its all true. This is the real me.

The one who wishes I was a kick-butt super hero. The one who sings the Broadway songs from "Wicked" in my car at the top of my lungs. The one who thinks I will explode if one more person tells me that I am administratively-gifted. The girl who cries herself to sleep sometimes at night because I'm alone, but who turns around and encourages the other girls in my life to just keep going and not give up. The girl who likes expensive lip gloss and doesn't think that I'm pretty at all. Who wishes people knew that I really am smart, even if I accidentally run into things sometimes or don't know how to add to 30 in my head. (That one's for Michelle. :) )

I'm the girl who writes songs that no one ever hears.

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I wish we lived in a world where we encouraged people to do what makes them ALIVE, that we invested all of our capability to bring people to equipping, training, encouragement, opportunities. If I accomplish one thing in this life I pray that it would be to encourage people to do ALL that God has gifted and called them to do, to live their lives to the fullest. To look past fear, regret, anxiety, lack of trust, and just RUN. Run the race full out...... To write the songs and play them to anyone who will listen. To play the music and even if no one else hears the tune, play it loudly anyway.

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My favorite female musician is Bethany Dillon. I'd encourage ANYONE to check her out... there is a raw reality to her music that I can't get enough of. I think I always have imagined that one day I'd get to do what she does... Check her out at www.bethanydillon.com.

Courage

2010-03-31T23:10:00.000-07:00

I am learning a lot about courage this week. Courage to take responsibility for one's actions, courage to live in truth, courage to be vulnerable. Courage to face things head on, courage to believe that God is bigger, courage to trust that He can do anything. Courage to stand up in front of thirty faces and open my mouth to speak about my passion. Courage to listen to someone confess heartache and regret. Courage to face the Winco grocery store with only a well-written list and the hope that I can feed many hungry students this weekend at our retreat. Courage to express my opinion when needed. Courage to say I'm sorry. Courage to fill out forms that make me anxious. Courage to open the mail. Courage to call my doctor and ask for pain meds when I haven't needed them in a while. Courage to face a teenager's birthday party rave. :) Courage to admit to someone that sometimes God doesn't take the struggle away and the courage to ask them, "What will you do if He doesn't?" Courage to get up it the morning anyway.

...fear not, for I am with you;
be not dismayed, for I am your God;
I will strengthen you, I will help you,
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.- Is. 41:10

"Fear is just an emotion."- M.T.
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It was my goddaughter, Emily's, 13th birthday party on Saturday night.

It got a little crazy...a "rave" in the blacked out garage...

Thirteen and happy!

My munchkin- Morgan gives the BEST hugs

"Security" and I

Morgan knows the "Thriller" Dance

Laverne and Shirley Go to Kauai

2010-03-28T17:14:00.000-07:00

If any of you have ever seen episodes of "Laverne and Shirley", you'll easily be able to picture what happens when my good friend Michelle and I are together.

I'm Shirley. She's Laverne. We amaze ourselves at how art imitates life... or in this case, our lives imitate art.

Imagine that Laverne and Shirley decided to take a trip to Hawaii.
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When Michelle drove up to my house Monday afternoon, after we both worked a full morning, I do believe the first words out of her mouth were "I hate you", because my carry-on suitcase was smaller than her carry-on suitcase. Don't ask me how I got it all in there... I'll never know.

The trip started out peacefully. We drove north to the airport, got on our plane, and idly watched "The Blindside" as we winged our way over the Pacific. Now when the flights were booked, the cheapest flight included a 7 hour lay-over in the Honolulu airport. At the time we thought "We'll be adventurous! We'll go out on the town!" Its Honolulu after all-- there must be some kind of nightlife. Our plane landed at 9:30ish or something... and there was no way either of us wanted to brave a taxi and some unknown city when we were barely standing up.

Stunned by the fact that the Honolulu Airport has almost no walls and a warm breeze that could be accurately described as heavenly, we tried to get our bearings. I was hungry, Michelle exhausted.

Little did we know... the freakin' Honolulu Airport SHUTS DOWN right about 10pm.

When I say shuts down, I mean, completely. Lights go out, corridors become blocked off, airport workers disappear in droves.

We did find food, in a cafeteria style area, and discovered that paying $10.00 for mashed potatos and green beans can actually be a worthwhile investment when you're tired.

We sat in the booth for quite sometime, until I had the brilliant idea that we should find our gate and tuck in to sleep for several hours.

That's when Laverne and Shirley could've stepped in and made quite the half-hour comedy show.

Now, when looking at the layout of the Honolulu Airport on a piece of paper, it seems to make sense. When you're actually there, it doesn't.

Our gate? Gate 25. We were on the far side of the triangle that sits in the center of the picture, which surrounds a lovely garden. The walk down the corridor to Gate 25 is a LOT longer than it appears on the picture.

Michelle and I hauled ourselves all the way down the corridor, passing strange items like a unarmed (hopefully) jet-engine-bomb-type-thing sitting in the middle of the walkway. It was dark, late, and there was no one in the corridor. No one, except us. Trudging along with our suitcases and purses and barely-open eyes.

Until, what is this?

The gateway to Gates 24 and 25 was blocked off by a giant rolling door.

We thought to ourselves, "Oh, we must have to go by shuttle around the way, like the sign told us when we got off our plane". Perhaps they just close off the walkway at night.

So, we turned around and walked all the way back to where we began. Luckily for us, so we thought, there's only one small escalator up to the next level where we can catch the shuttle for Inter-island Flights. We gained the next level, which really is entirely outside, just in time to see the shuttle drive away.

Figures.

Thankfully, another shuttle drove up only about five minutes later. With a sigh of relief, we rolled our suitcases to the curb as a large man opened the doors by the lever next to his seat and asked, "Where are you ladies headed?" (Under other circumstances, that would've been a question I would've answered quite differently...) "The Hawaiian Airlines terminal", was the reply as I began to set my suitcase in the shuttle.

"They're closed."

Figures.

His shuttle route to Hawaiian Airlines was closed as well.

When we asked how to get there, he said, "Go downstairs to baggage claim, go out the doors, turn left and walk down the sidewalk."

Okay.

So, we turned around again, leaving the man to drive his shuttle away to some other unknown stop to deliver bad news to other unsuspecting women travelers who just wanted to sit down and close their eyes. Then again, there probably weren't any other travelers he could stop to talk to... Michelle and I were the only travelers I'd seen in a while.

Down the escalator we went to the floor we'd just come from, and then we headed toward the baggage claim sign.

When we came upon the escalator and the stairs directly under the sign that said "BAGGAGE CLAIM", I should have probably thought twice when I saw the stairs and the "up" escalator roped off. There was a nice looking Hawaiian security lady standing at the top of the stairs, and as I headed toward the "down" escalator, with glazed-eyes-Michelle right behind, I asked her the same question I'd asked the shuttle driver. She gave the same directions, pointing down the escalator.

Great! I got on the escalator, and Michelle followed. We were half way down the escalator when the lady calls to Michelle, "You shouldn't have gone down there. Now I can't let you back up."

Stunned, I turned to Michelle after she relayed this information to me. We stood at the exact bottom of the escalator, not having even crossed the yellow line blazened across the floor. I asked, loudly, "What does she think we're going to do?! She can still see us!" (I think I probably spoke too loudly.)

Figures.

The security lady did say that we could get in the elevator and come back up that way. Which made no sense to me, but okay, whatever.

We rolled ourselves into baggage claim, kind of seething at this point, and spotted someone coming out of the eleveator. Michelle wanted to go in, I didn't. It was a freight elevator, employees only. There was no way the security lady would have told us to get in an employee only elevator, right? There had to be another one. I left Michelle to go peek around the corners of baggage claim. No other elevator. Just cold, hard slabs of granite littering the cold, bright, empty baggage claim.

Figures.

I returned to Michelle and as we turned the corner into the niche that held the elevator we discovered... a keypad. For the elevator.

Unbelievable.

What to do now?

If we continued following the so far tenuously helpful directions to actually get to the Hawaiian Airlines terminal we would've had to exit baggage claim through the whirring double doors that would lead outside.

My fear? That as soon as we walked out those doors we would NEVER get back in. It was that kind of night. So Michelle stood inside while I walked outside to see what I could see. Which was precisely nothing, and the way things had been going, stepping out into the night to pursue precisely nothing was just not something we were willing to do.

So, at that point, we decided to make the best of it and spend our now 6 hour lay over in the cold, brightly lit baggage claim of the Honolulu Airport. At least there were granite slabs, right? Besides, Michelle desperately needed a plug-in for her iPhone, the third traveler in our party.

With gumption required of those who can do nothing to change their situation and must make the best of it, we located four granite slabs shoved together near the rental car checkouts, which were black and deserted cubbies, and made camp.

I decided to take a photograph for posterity.

I don't remember excactly when the hysterical laughter started, but it was fairly soon after. My beach towel was serving as my pillow, while the scarf I was wearing had actually become a blind fold to block out the insanely bright flourescent lights. Michelle rummaged through her suitcase to produce one pair of sweats, to serve as a very small, padded barrier between her legs and the slab, and two sweatshirts to serve as a "blanket"

The thing we weren't aware of is that we picked the granite slabs directly under the two very large monitors that show flight information.

Figures.

And although the airport shuts down to nearly nothing at night, the flights still come in, and with those flights come people, and with those people come baggage and relatives and friends who retrieve them. And all those relatives and friends who come to retrieve them of course must stand directly in front of our little camp to find out whatever flight information they might need.

Once we discovered this, the laughter came so hard that I was crying, which necessitated lifting my makeshift blindfold to wipe away the tears... which meant I saw the people who stood there in front of us, which of course reinforced the hysterical laughter.

I don't know how we did it, but we fell asleep. It must've been pure exhaustion.

Until we heard, "Ladies!"

I started awake, looked at my watch with bleary eyes and saw that it was some time around 2am, Hawaiian time. A female security guard was standing over us, a different guard than before, and she said, "We've let you sleep here as long as possible. Baggage claim is closing down."
Figures.

As I jumped off the slab and started to stuff my beach towel back in my suitcase while the security guard stood there, leaning against the car rental counter, waiting, Michelle said, "I've never felt more like a hobo than right now."

I could not have said it better myself. I mean, really. I'm sophisticated. I'm educated. I'm clean and sober and read books like Jane Eyre and Wuthering Height. I don't fall asleep in airport baggage claims on granite slabs with a beach towel as a pillow and get kicked out by security!

Except, I did! Has probably topped the 'Most Humiliating Moments of My Life' list.

Being excessively nice, because I was afraid that we might get shipped off to some holding room or sent outside to fend for ourselves in nature until the Hawaiian terminal opened, I asked where we were supposed to go while Michelle re-"packed" her suitcase.

We were led a set of sliding double doors just down the hall and told to go upstairs.

Upstairs. Where just three hours before we were told that we could not go.

Figures.

Up to the second level we went, and discovered a room full of errant travelers just like ourselves sitting and sleeping in an open square on those horrible black airport chairs that have the immovable chair arms at hip. level. I can't remember which of us said it, but I know that the sentiment was expressed: Had this been available to us the whole time we'd been humiliating ourselves in baggage claim?!

Apparantly, but because of our fear to go through any more double doors, we'd resigned ourselves to a granite-slab fate.

Not that our new situation was any better. It was cold here too, because there were no walls to the lovely outdoors. Even in Hawaii the middle of the night is COLD.

We propped our feet up on our suitcases, I used my beach towel as a blanket, and spent the next three or four hours sleeping in the most crooked, cock-eyed, crazy positions you've ever seen. When it was finally time to get up and go to the hopefully-now-open Hawaiian Airlines terminal, I told Michelle that I thought I was permanently bent to the right, from having leaned over the immovable-hip-high armrest for all that time.

We made it to our flight and survived our night in the Honolulu airport.

I think that perhaps the only thing Laverne and Shirley would have done differently is accidentally fall asleep on the baggage turnstile and had a rude awakening- and crazy ride- when it started up. Can you imagine?!

Obssesive Much?

2010-03-20T18:05:00.000-07:00

I'm back from Kauai.

Because I'm a wise, wise person, I got off the plane Wednesday, drove home and promply turned around and went to work. By 3pm I was exhasuted. Life hasn't slowed down since. I just downloaded my photos from Kauai, but I'm too tired to UP-load them. Sad, isn't it? I uploaded one just as a placation.

*Hanalei Bay. Gorgeous*

I have the best stories about the trip, but they're epic, so the thought of typing them all out is ALSO tiring. I need a nap just from thinking about it. :)

No matter how tired I am, there are somethings I must do these days. Like mopping my kitchen floor. I can be upstairs, never see the downstairs all day because I'm gone so much, or even be in another part of town, if I know the kitchen floor is dirty I can't stand it.

I can be absurdly obssessed sometimes. I get that from my dad. I get hooked on ONE thing and just can't let it go for a long, long time.

My current obsessions:

'Everything' bagels and cream cheese
Mopping my kitchen floor
"Westerns"-- tv shows and movies
Fanatsy novels
My tiny little coffee maker and Safeway coffee (I know, weird!)
Re-learning French (my mom colored my hair last and during the whole process I sat reading and translating the French directions on the instruction sheet)
Cereal (still)
Long necklaces

Give it a month, and it'll change again. It won't mean I don't like these things anymore... it'll just mean a new side of me is coming to the surface. I'm too complicated to have it all sit on the surface at one time. :) I kind of like my weird quirks-- they make me unique, and I'm learning to love being unique.

What are your nonsensical obessions?

Next time I blog, I have the most fantastic stories about Hawaii, and pictures to boot, but for now I"ll say au revoir and regain my energy. Happy Saturday!

Vacation 101

2010-03-07T21:45:00.000-08:00

Europeans call it a holiday. Americans call it a vacation.

I just call it desperately needed.

Tomorrow I am leaving behind my day-to-day world and all my electronic ties and flying to Hawaii.

I've never been to Hawaii. The last six months I've scrimped and saved and schemed enough money for a plane ticket and a lovely time with my dear friend Michelle on the island of Kauai.

Here are my holiday rules:

1) I refuse to get sunburned. (That may not be a problem, as I hear it is raining and chilly there right now. Dang-it)
2) I refuse to check voicemail, email, Facebook or any other electronic gizmo unless absolutely necessary.
3) I will sleep as long as I want and take naps.
4) If the sun is out, I will lay on the beach and read.
5) I will run for fun, only if I want to
6) I will remember to charge my camera battery and take pretty pictures
7) I'll eat whatever I want
8) I refuse to rush
9) I will enjoy time with my best friend
10) I will be grateful, no matter what-- rain, shine, long layovers or old men playing shuffleboard...

Because I need this vacation! :) Talk with you when I return. If I do actually charge my camera battery and take pictures I'll share a few when I get home.

Blessings!

Debate: The Engine of Change

2010-03-04T00:26:00.000-08:00

As is fairly typical of my family, whenever we are together for more than half and hour and not watching tv or some such thing, a debate usually breaks out. Not a bad debate, but the best kind of debates. The kind that make me learn about quantum physics and that cat in the box that is both alive and dead at the same time, and how light is both a wave and a particle. Debates about God's character, debates about man's character, about time and space, about the fixed nature of historic phenomenon and the fluctuating nature of science. We debate about EVERYTHING. My dad and sister are those science geeks who LIKE reading books on physics and so forth. My mom is the PhD candidate who can practically quote the DSM-4 classifications of mental illnesses and has enough experience with both sane and not-so-sane people that she is just, well, legit. (There's a whole story behind my use of the word legit that is quite comical.) I'm the little social scientist, always interested in the big picture, the other side of the argument, how pieces fit together, and getting the most out of the conversation as I can.

I guess I'm just a perpetual "learner" and debates are one of my favorite ways to learn. I grew up that way. My dad has an incredible work ethic and the nature of his business was such that he did the graveyard shift. Beth and I were homeschooled in a very non-traditional homeschooling sense. That meant our schedules were stranger than many other families and we did not-so-normal activities together. Like watching X-Files with Dad, who would pause in the middle of the video and ask his 14-year old daughter about psychology and human nature out of some crazy science fiction show. We used to pull out the Grey's Anatomy text when I was just a tiny tot and read about lymphocytes ("the blue guys" I used to call them, because in the illustration they were colored blue.) When Mom was in grad school I used to read pieces of her text books on psychology and personality types in the car when we drove.

My parents taught me to ask questions. To not settle for the status quo unless the status quo was the best response. My dad has played "devil's advocate" in more debates than I can remember, in order to make me think. He's made me the kind of person I am today, always fighting to understand, to reason, to explain and teach others how to learn. My mom has showed me that I can do anything I set my mind to, no matter how great or small, and that people are just people.

Monday night the debate club that I was a part of in my last year of college sponsored a debate between leading philosopher and theologian William Lane Craig and renowned atheist Vic Stegner. I was ecstatic to go and to take many of the CSOM students. The entire auditorium (huge auditorium) was packed out and there was standing room only in the back.

It was an incredible debate, and I don't think anyone could deny that the more confident and definitive argument (therefore: winner) was that of the theist philosopher Craig.

After the debate most of the attending CSOM students came over to my house for ice cream, cinnamon rolls and discussion about the debate.

I sat in my rocking chair, sipping my very sweet coffee, observing them in my living room. Some emphatically made their points, while some sat quietly against the sliding glass doors and stared in wide-eyed wonderment at the phrases being tossed back and forth- "sedimentary layers", "singularities", "quantam physics", "ontological", "cosmological". There was much, much laughter, much sugar, and my favorite part of all... a great deal of learning.

When we debate in a godly manner, when we interact with others on an intellectual level about whatever subject (not just theology or science) I would venture to posit that it greatly increases the Kingdom of God. Debate and sharing of our intellecutual lives can glorify God in an incredibly unique way. When we legitimize someone else's point of view by giving it due attention, when we help correct mistaken views or our own are corrected, when we enhance one another's knowledge for our growth and improvement that can lead to futher sanctification------ how are we NOT building up the Kingdom?

I know that Christ was watching that room with pleasure. I know I was. :)

The evening also included a knife-fight, undoubtably angry neighbors and an incredibly sense of community.

How rich, how rich, is the knowledge of God and our ability to congatively grasp even a minute portion of who He is, how He's made us, and the purpose of what He has created and acoomplished. Oh that we would ever seek Him both through our spiritual longings and interactions but also our depth of intellectual pursuit, all for the glory of His kingdom!

As my dad mentioned tonight, "Imagination is evidence of the divine!" We are who we are because He has designed us to reflect Him. Even He says, "Come, let us reason together!" Our God is a God of logic and love-- let us approach Him with boldness as such a God!

Passion

2010-02-26T18:00:00.000-08:00

Passion.

I believe that you cannot accomplish anything great without passion.

Note I didn't define "great" things. Because I think that what makes something great doesn't necessarily always appear "great" to everyone. Some would say that staying home with seven little ones and making it through the library, pet shop and Home Depot in one piece with four of them is not greatness. I'll be you that mom thinks it falls in the category of one great feat. Most people would acquiesce to the belief that Abraham Lincoln was great man who accomplished great things.

I think that greatness can be measured many different ways, but what I can almost guarantee is that you cannot be great or accomplish anything great without passion.

Passion is an incredible driving force. The dictionary divides the definition of passion: ardent love, boundless enthusiasm, and the suffering of Christ.

Ardent love and boundless enthusiasm.

I've been sitting here planning my life... okay, more just imagining what I'd want my life to look like in the future... and I'll tell you what, its going to take some ardent love and boundless enthusiasm to get there.

But one thing I've observed is if you have passion-- passion for the Kingdom of God, passion for reaching people, passion to utilize your individual giftings-- it can take you a lot further than you ever thought possible. It can lead to greatness.

If I just aimed for greatness in my life, I guarantee I would fall flat on my back. I will never obtain any level of greatness in the eyes of man, I'm pretty darn sure.

But what I do have is passion. Talk to me for five seconds about the Atlantic World, historical research, the importance of teaching people how to learn, caring for others, Biblical theology, and encouraging others in their passions... its like a little locomotive in my heart.

Sometimes I think to grandly without an infrastructure in place. But what I realized tonight is that the infrastructure doesn't always have to be manufactured. Sometimes passion is all you have to achieve your dreams... but God can do a lot with passion if its directed in His way.

What can He do with your passions, whether their huge or small? Ask David... he just played the harp and watched sheep and loved His God in a huge way... :) Look where HE ended up!

Hollywood

2010-02-24T18:23:00.000-08:00

I wrote this at work earlier today....
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It's 2:26 in the afternoon and for the second time in an hour I’ve been called by the moniker “Hollywood”.

I sit just off the main hallway in the District office, directly across from the Business Director’s office, whose beautiful windows shine right into my face, even on a stormy day like today. To top it off, the lovely halogen lights that line the main hallway provide the most delightfully annoying glare. The maintenance guys took pity on me last year and unscrewed the bulbs from every other light fixture, so at least we’re not a full wattage, but it’s enough to send my headache-sensitive eyes into a bit of a pounding throb.

Because of the light-on-light combo, I’ve been known to wear my sunglasses in the office quite frequently. Because of that someon started calling me “Hollywood”, with great affection, and it’s slowly spreading. I sometimes hear it when I’m walking in, sometimes when a director or their staff walks by. Always with a gentle smile and a laugh. Now one of the bus drivers who routinely makes his way down the hall to chat on his way to the elementary school next door has broken out the nickname. To be honest, I’m not even sure he knows my real name (aside from the fact that it’s on my desk) but he’s sure got the nickname down. I don’t even think I know his name, now that I think of it, but we have interesting 20 second chats when he stops by.

Today his opening line was “Hey Hollywood, what’s with the Foster Grants?"

I immediately take of my sunglasses if anyone stops by my desk—it seems rude not to— but I couldn’t figure out what “Foster Grants” meant until he looked at the glasses in my hand.

I explained and he said something funny that went over my head. (It almost always does. Maybe its bus driver humor or maybe it’s because he’s from a different generation—whatever it is, I almost never get his jokes.)

Now that he’s sauntered away I’m going to look up “Foster Grants” and find out what he meant…
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Well, apparently, the Foster Grant Sunglass Company was the first sunglass manufacturer in history. Here’s what their website says:

Foster Grant sunglasses. As the original sunglasses manufacturer, Foster Grant has a long, storied history that dates back to 1919. From the boardwalk in Atlantic City to Elvis to Who’s That Behind Those Foster Grants? Today, we offer a huge array of styles designed to meet all your needs. Fashionable sunglasses, classic styles, driving sunglasses, polarized sunglasses or sporty sunglasses. In fact, nobody sells more sunglasses in the world than Foster Grant. And every pair provides maximum UV protection. (http://www.fostergrant.com/company.html)

I love their tagline: “Who’s Behind Those Foster Grants?”

Well, my sunglasses aren’t Foster Grants. They’re just an adorable pair Sarah got me for my trip to Hawaii. But suddenly I’m feeling quite rakish, sitting here in my prim librarian-looking outfit, blogging on a break, wearing my “Hollywood” moniker with pride. I may just put it on my name plate…

And just now our courier walked by, stopped smack in front of my desk and said with a grin, “My future’s so bright I gotta wear shades.” On his way back he hollered, “Have a great day, superstar!”

Our Foundation Director has indicated that I need to practice my "elbow-elbow-wrist-wrist" wave and is going to bring me a crown to wear. I have a feeling the rest of the afternoon is going to follow suit in the good-natured digs.

From people who don’t work here I get the STRANGEST looks, but no one is rude enough to ask. :)

Have Snuggie, Will Travel

2010-02-23T00:38:00.000-08:00

A few circumstances over the last two nights have necessitated me spending the night at my parents house. Yesterday evening I was upstairs packing, fussing about something while shoving random things into an overnight bag, remembering some non-essentials and forgetting other essentials. In went a library book I haven't even cracked yet, even though I got it days ago, a pair of high heels, my ear plugs (Dad is getting older and he watches TV late at night very loudly because of his bad hearing... so loud in fact that I finally had to resort to ear plugs), nail polish and nail polish remover, and my Snuggie.

Thankfully I also remembered my toothbrush, but forgot shampoo and a shaver, and most importantly a sweatshirt... I get cold a lot.

Thank goodness for the Snuggie.

Sunday was a hard day for me emotionally. Sometimes when God teaches us things its gradual, and sometimes its in a HUGE fell swoop. It was one of those days that was "one small step for [a] man, one giant leap for Kaela."

Today was a board meeting day, exhausting to the extreme.

Both days my headache has been fairly consistent.

So I can't express the importance of comfort of my parent's home the last two nights. Its not that its fancy or amazing. My old bedroom is not what it used to be when I was in it. But when I am exhausted and hurting and cold and hungry, I can't explain the genuine need for comfort that is met by a homemade cookie, my old bedroom, a warm Snuggie, and MacGyver reruns.

I was looking up Scriptures on comfort and surprised, really, at the fact that God is a God of comfort! Why should I be surprised at that? I don't know why I was, but I was. For some reason the things about the Lord that stand out to me are more His justices, or His directives, or even His love and grace. But there is something about COMFORT that sounds so engaging, so "hands-on", so intimate.

Lets look here at some of the verses I founds:

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for You are with me, Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. (Ps. 23:4)

You shall increase my greatness, and comfort me on every side.(Ps. 71:21)

Let, I pray, Your merciful kindness be for my comfort, according to Your word to Your servant. (Ps. 119: 76)

"Comfort, yes, comfort My people!" says your God. "Speak comfort to Jerusalem, and cry out to her, that her warfare is ended, that her iniquity is pardoned; for she has received from the Lord's hand double for all her sins." (Is. 40:1-2)

For I will turn their mourning to joy, will comfort them, and make them rejoice rather than sorrow. (Jeremiah 31:13)

And walking in the fear of the Lord and in the comfort of the Holy Spirit, they were multiplied.(Acts 9:31)

For whatever things were written before were written for our learning, that we through the patience and comfort of the Scriptures might have hope. Now may the God of patience and comfort grant you to be like-minded toward one another, according to Christ Jesus... (Romans 15:4-5)

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort who comforts us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort those who are in any trouble, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. (2 Cor. 1:3-4)

Now may our Lord Jesus Christ Himself, and our God and Father, who has loved us and given [us] everlasting consolation and good hope by grace, comfort your hearts and establish you in every good word and work. (2 Thes. 2:16-17)

I think perhaps the verse I like the most out of all of those is the psalm that says, "You will comfort me on every side." Somehow that just seems like an embrace. Or a Snuggie. Or a sleeping bag. That God's comfort is wrap-around comfort, that doesn't leave my back undefended or my heart cold.

So often I go to Jesus for strength, or endurance, or wisdom. But when was the last time I went to Him for comfort? I immediately go to Haley or Michelle for emotional comfort, or to my parents' house or my dad's restaurant for physical comfort. But do I go to Jesus to comfort me in times I need comfort?

Not usually, I approach Him on other levels, so often, but not one of comfort.

Is it wrong to let you know that right now I have an image of God as a HUGE, MASSIVE cobalt blue Snuggie? :) Wrap-around comfort from the God of the universe. His Word is comfort, His Holy Spirit-ness is comfort, His love and guidance is comfort.

Oh that we would learn to lean into the comfort of Jesus, like his beloved disciple did at the Last Supper.

Sun. Sun. Sun.

2010-02-18T23:36:00.000-08:00

The sun was out today.

I have to say, while I COMPLETELY disagree with the concept, I understand why cultures have worshiped the sun. I've been going a little berserk in the constant cold rain. I know many others live in climates that are receiving unbelievable weather right now-- like the entire mid-west and east coast. However, I am going to take a moment to say that unless you've lived in the Pacific Northwest and had constant cold rain for 20 years of your life there's no way to relate to how depressing and cold and yucky it is. (Of course, I've not been buried in five feet or twenty feet of snow either, so its all about perspective! :) )

I haven't always felt this way. I never really used to even notice the rain. But in the last few years I've become more and more adverse to the rain. Blech. I think it all started when I was in college and had to walk to and from class every day in the rain. It just gets in the bones!

So when the sun comes out in the valley, EVERYONE goes crazy. Out come the sunglasses, the flipflops, the windows get rolled down... its only February but we act like its July. I was turning onto the road next to the school today and saw a young man walking in shorts and NO shirt. In February. That's how sun starved we are.

God knows what I need! Not that the sun is just for me. But I feel God's love in things like that. And Baja Fresh. Which I haven't had in a while, but my point is that there are small things that speak to me of His Love! Here's hoping that the sun will stay out forever!

A Week In Snapshots!

2010-02-16T23:14:00.000-08:00

Life has been busy lately! Moving (photos of that later), birthday, Valentine's day, and lots of busy-ness with the school...

Three things I can't live without... and two of them I lose frequently...

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A little Birthday love from Dad and Mom...

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Our Risk Management manager decided that since school kids get to pass out Valentines that School District staff should get to as well.

Somehow it morphed into THIS:

Human Resources set up a box with a card, that once lifted, sang the song, "I Want Candy..." I sit across from the Valentine's Table. Went about crazy everytime someone walked by and got the inkling

to open the lid!!!!!

Possibly my favorite Valentine receptical of all time...

From Facilities and Maintenance

Who doesn't love a good cash register... :)

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I took my goddaughters out for a night of fun at the Oregon State University Pink-Out Women's Basketball Game...

We stopped for a little Starbucks first. What was I THINKING????

So sophisticated with her carmel frappuccino

Moe Moe...

At the game...

The girls were so excited because they got flashed up on the jumbotron...

Pink Out Basket Ball game, supporting the fight against breast cancer

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We've been "letting our hair down", so to speak, at the school lately, with some basket ball games during breaks, study nights, and a special Valentine's dinner for the girls....

The guys got a kick out of the fact their mild-mannered director can school them royally in basketball

Valentine's Day TREATS!

Some of the CSOM girls with several of the supportive older gals, me, and our
director's newest addition, Baby!!!

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Late night studying!!!!!!

Caffeine to stay awake...

AND....

that's a slight summary of just the last week and a half. :)

Transitions- The Stuff of Nightmares or Dreams?

2010-02-09T20:41:00.000-08:00

Whoo!

I'm still breathing, which is a good sign. I'm suprised after the last four whirlwind days that I'm even awake right now. I'm so exhausted and refuse to move again ever in my whole life.

Okay, total exaggeration.

Transitions are not something I've ever been really great at, but this one has been smoother than I ever thought I would be. Waking up in a new place, trying to remember where the cutlery and the duster are in the new kitchen, recalling the way to my house when driving... I was expecting these to be challenges I'd just have to get over like I always do.

They're not. Which just speaks to me of God's perfect timing. He had it all sorted out just right for the perfect thing.

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Friday afternoon was GORGEOUS and sunny. In the midst of the cold valley rain it was a God-send. I prayed it would remain sunny the next day.

It didn't. It rained all day long. All day.

To top it off there were a lot of moving-help-cancellations and delays, so my "workforce" went from about a dozen to myself, my sister and her best girlfriend.

To move a whole house. I was discouraged to say the least. The rain did nothingto help my mood.

"Fear is just an emotion," Michelle would say. Right so...

So sis got the truck, I called Haley for a little cheerleading, and then we started filling up that U-Haul. Heavy boxes, mattresses, tables, shelves... all sorts of stuff. We didn't dare try the couch and entertainment center... too heavy for puny little me.

Praise the Lord, Beth's friend D was able to help in the late afternoon and best-brother-ever Brandon sacrificed his only afternoon to rest from his full plate to haul heavy furniture. Some CSOM guys stepped in and Michelle, bless her, helped haul everything from box springs to boxes.

What started out as a rain-sodden, depressing, cry-worthy day ended in a rain-sodden, laughter filled, pizza-and-pop filled time of hanging out in the damp living room.

There was barely a moment to even put on the couch cover or put away clothes before the week sprang into motion!

I have decided my birthday should always be on a Sunday. Impossible for me to dictate, I know, but I loved starting my birthday with church, listening to what God is doing in our body and the stories people had to share about how He's touching their lives and the Body as a whole.

My mom and I went to lunch, and when we went to pay the bill, it turned out that a family behind us (whom I know from church) paid for the whole bill and dessert we weren't planning on besides!

I fiddled around for a few hours because I had a Super Bowl party to attend later and I didn't quite know what to do with myself... so grocery shopping became the ticket of the day. See, because I follow football SO much I knew exactly when the SuperBowl started. 6:00ish.

Yeah, that would be on the EAST coast.

On the WEST coast it started at 3ish.

Normally that wouldn't be a big deal, but because of that I was quite late to the party.... which turned out to be a tiny surprise party for me! Biggest surprise of all... a very bitter Haley and Blake sitting there for two hours waiting for me to arrive! I was so blessed. My friend Josh (home from the military for a few weeks) and his wife KM, Brandon, Blake and Haley and I had the greatest time... it was truly the first time I'd ever been completely surprised at a party. Clearly, because I was so out of the loop I actually was two hours late.

After getting chewed out by Haley over an hours time, eating more than my fair share of chips and a pie Hal made, and enjoying everyone's company immensely, I then went to dinner with Michelle and another friend... I think I ate enough that day for three days combined!

We "discovered" a rather avante-garde and trendy restaurant (that everyone else apparantly loves already) downtown, ate more food, and had a great time. Michelle and I talked till 11pm, catching up on how God is moving in our lives and spurring each other on in the use and pursuit of our giftings.

All in all, it was a delightfully perfect birthday... which is saying a lot, because I usually do the same thing with birthdays that I do with Christmas-- expect it to be something and it ends up not being that at all which is disappointing. When I have less expectations for things like this it ALWAYS turns out better.

So, the transition to 27 went well too.

I wonder what other transitions are in store for this year. I have a feeling it may be a lot. God is challenging me to "give Him the fields of my heart" to plow as He wants to, and to not dictate which fields He can or cannot work in. That was driven home on Sunday morning. I've already decided to live deliberately, to live on purpose, but I'm coming to realize that only GOD can dictate what my life looks like if I really want it to be worth anything in the Kingdom.

So, I have an inkling that His transitions in my life are just going to keep on pilling up this year... Lord that I would be ready for that wave!

A Lot of Newness!

2010-02-04T23:47:00.000-08:00

Well, I just spent the last three hours updating the look of my blog. All I have to say is I HATE coding. I've decided its much better left to those who actually know what they're doing.

I should've spent the last three hours packing, or sleeping, or something. But when I couldn't conquer that stupid blogging code in one fell swoop I got a little enraged... a little obsessive... a little driven... and now here we are at 11:34 and I conquered! I take after my dad in this. He is completely self-taught on Microsoft Excel, by spending hours and hours in his office at the restaurant night after night doing the books. He figured out the coolest things simply because he had to. And I have the benefit of Google at my fingertips!
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This weekend holds two big things: a move to a new townhouse and my 27th birthday. A few things people should know about me?

1) I HATE new things. New things scare me. Like new houses for example. Going off to college? I tried three times... and ended up staying in my home town for school. Which was wonderful, but when push came to shove I just couldn't quite jump to "newness". I drive the same route to work every day. I get homesick on every trip I ever take (except for the one to Nigeria in 2008). I hate making new friends, even when its good for me. God is seriously kicking me out of the nest the last two years with all the new stuff He's placing in my life. New trips, new friends, new job, new positions, new lessons, and now a new house. When will it end?! (Probably won't. :) Isn't that just like the Lord?)

2) Birthdays are a huge deal to me. Huge. Sometimes it may not seem like it to the people I love, because I don't always communicate that they are a big deal through my actions (I'm going to pray for improvement in this area), but I think the celebration of a person is a really big deal. Sarah is a wonderful birthday-haver, because she ALWAYS tells me what she wants when I ask. I love that because I can be specific and give her what she wants, which makes her happy, which makes me happy!

I remember one year my birthday fell on Super Bowl Sunday (like it does this year) and Haley inadvertently chose football over me, not realizing how big of a deal it was for me to have her over that day. I was

uhhh-pset.

A complete over reaction of course, and I still feel bad about it! But since that year Haley has never once forgotten my birthday. :)

Because of that when she and I talked birthday plans it took some convicining to make her believe that I am totally okay with no birthday plans this year. With the move and all the other things that have been going on, I'll be thankful just to SLEEP on my birthday. :) Watch a little football, eat a little cheescake or something, play with the dog, unpack a myriad of boxes, and sleep.

I wonder what this 27th year and all its newness will bring?!

If My People, Who Are Called by My Name...

2010-02-03T21:37:00.001-08:00

"... humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land." (2 Chronicles 7:14)

This week my church is doing something pretty radical. We are participating in a corporate fast for a week, from Sunday to Saturday, meeting together morning, afternoon and in the evening for prayer. We did this last year as well but there is something about this year that seems oh-so-driven. Maybe its because its a more familiar lay out and doesn't seem quite as foreign as it did last year, but whatever the case, its pretty radical.

I haven't been to as many prayer meetings and gatherings as I could've been or I did last year, but when the ones that I have been at have really touched me. Especially last night, as we worshiped together.

Strangely enough the thing that crossed my mind as I was worshiping with song last night was of the early church. The reason that sounds strange is because the early church would never have experienced anything like the loud-band, large-church-designated-building, the 21st-century-style. So I couldn't figure out why I thought of the early church. Maybe I could've explained it by having my brain full of historical knowledge as I prep for the class I'm teaching in spring

But I immediately realized that the reason I was equating the two things was because I can imagine that the way the early church experienced the Spirit and worshiped God MUST'VE been similiar in terms of power, commitment and joy. The modern church doesn't talk about or practice fasting like its described in the Scripture. Maybe we like to think we're too enlightened or too smart to do something as archaic as imaging God would listen to our prayers as we deprive ourselves of things that we normally partake of.

I even fall into that trap VERY often.

However, no one could deny the Spirit of God moving through this week. Whether He simply uses the denial of the flesh to refocus our hearts and there is no real power in the fasting, or if there is something genuinely intrinsic to fasting that only rests in the spiritual realm... I don't know. But I know God is moving.

A quote that was on my mind tonight were again A.W. Tozer's famous words "To have found God and still to pursue Him is the soul's paradox of love." (Pursuit of God)

Sepia Toned Gratefulness

2010-01-30T22:17:00.000-08:00

I haven't written in a while, but here I am tonight eating a brownie (I've scaled back to one single brownie tonight because in the last few days I've eaten my own weight in brownies, so it seems), watching MythBusters, catching up on computer things, and thinking about a movie I watched last night.

I saw The Book of Eli, on the recommendation of a co-worker. It looked a little sepia, a little"post apocalyptic", and a little yucky for my taste, but my co-worker knows me well and she thought I would like it. I like action movies, quite a bit actually, but something about the quietness and horrific thought of a post-nuclear world really hit me out of this movie unlike any other disaster or action movie I've ever seen.

The movie made me angry, made me sad, made me depressed and horrified, but what it made me feel the most was GRATEFUL!

I don't want to give away the movie, so don't read further if you don't want to know the end...

but I almost cried when the man, Eli, reached his end goal and notified his rescuers that he had a Bible to add to their collection. He'd been carrying it thirty years, the only one left in the world.

But when they asked him if they could see it he instead sat down and began to repeat word for word the entirety of Scripture from Genesis 1:1. The Bible was in his head. He'd read it so many times over thirty years that he knew it word for word. He knew God protected him in his pursuit to bring the Word back to people. And though he died in his quest, the most heartening scene of the movie was when a restored printing press began to shuffle page on page of Scripture. I wonder if that's how those in the past felt when the Word of God was put into written form that others could read.... the awe, the wonder, the responsibility, the hope.

Eli gave his life in the mission to preserve the ONLY remaining physical word of God left in a tortured world. One man sought to destroy him to gain the words, thinking that the possession of the Book would give him power. He didn't realize that the power came not from words on a page, but from the belief and faith, the life and truth they brought.

I left the theater nearly in tears and swearing in my heart that I would never consider the Word of God so cavalierly again in my life. I carry it around with me every day, just one more "accessory" in my suitcase-sized-purse.

Yet, what if it were taken from me?! What if there was no hard copy of God's word existed? What if it were against the law for me to have one in my possession, as it is so many places in the world?!

So, I have made a goal. I would like to memorize the book of Matthew by the end of the year. I'll keep track of this goal here. My hope would be that I could eventually memorize much more than just Matthew, but I know myself and must start with a REACHABLE goal. :)

I would appreciate prayer in this area... it is very hard for me to memorize anything. It always has been.

But that movie was a graphic visual to me of the vast importance of God's precious word, and a reminder that I may not always have the luxury of whipping my Bible out of my purse. Additionally, what better way to "guard your heart", "the wellspring of life", than to hide God's word in my heart?

The Mud Hut versus The Minivan

2010-01-21T22:24:00.000-08:00

Famous preacher and missionary George Whitefield (before he was famous) went from a life at Oxford full of books and reason and high theology and took the parish of a poor and illiterate group of people. This position shaped him in many ways, and it was said of him by his friend John Gillies that he "soon learnt to love the people among whom he labored, and derived from their society a greater improvement than books could have given him." (Memoirs of Rev. George Whitefield, John Gillies, pg. 21).

Something he loved and was deeply passionate about? Oxford, education and books.

Something God called him to? Shepherding the low class.

I may not be anything like George Whitefield. For one, he was Anglican, and for another, he was a man, and to top it all off, he had a loud, loud voice.

One thing I do have in common with George Whitefield is the feeling I'm going to end up doing something ENTIRELY outside the realm of what I thought I wanted to do.

Tonight I babysat. We did the dinner thing, made brownies for school tomorrow, had a glass-breaking-tears incident that involved a time-out and no barefeet in the kitchen. We played a game, cleaned up our messes and generally had a great time.

I love spending time with those kids, and while Little Boy was helping me rip the romaine lettuce into pieces (what kid doesn't love to rip things?), and Littler Girl was trying desperately to have enough strength to stir her brownie mix, I was thinking of something Brandon said to me the other day.

He pushes my buttons like almost no one else. All the ones I hate being pushed. My greatest dreams in life have been to be a missionary, to be involved, to be a part of great moves of God.

Brandon said he sees me being stay at home mom who prays for missionaries and sends them, not actually going myself.

I was really peeved at him for saying that! Its actually one of my greatest fears! I don't want to be left behind, I want to be in the fight just like the guys... it stung me even more since he never even wanted to set foot in Africa and I've wanted to go there my whole life as a missionary, but since he's a guy he can feasibly end up anywhere in the world and do anything he wants and doesn't have to be a stay at home mom who drives a van and picks her kids up from soccer. I love the other mom's who do that and I think they're incredible... I just never wanted that life.

Hmph.

I hate it when he could be right. Cause every minute I'm with the kiddos, with Little Boys charming little face staring up at me and wanting to be my helper, or the way the girls always want to have an adventure or do something fun or talk about their drawing, or school, or friends, I know in my heart I can't wait to be a mom. I feel like this with my god daughters too... there's nothing I wouldn't do to protect them, help them, fight for them. I love them with all my heart.

There was a day when chaos of the familial kind would send me into whirly-loops. Now there is a calm I feel in that situation that makes me feel... this is going to sound so lame... like I was born for it.

Born for tying shoes, helping brush teeth, picking up at school, dealing with tantrums, reading books, playing games, cooking pasta and getting up fifteen times for various drinks, utensils, plate refills, and stern warnings about finishing dinner.

I have a feeling that in my lifetime I may have to swallow that same pill George Whitefield swallowed and step into shoes that I always imagined wouldn't fit right.

But God caused George Whitefield to experience above and beyond what he could've EVER imagined his life to entail for the Lord. I'm counting on that for my life too, that God sees those parts of my heart that seem so completely parallel that they'd never cross and that somewhere in His eternity they DO cross and only He sees how. Adventure and greatness and ballet recitals and bedtime stories.

So, now I feel bad for being peeved at my brother, since he's almost always right about stuff anyway. Although I REFUSE to drive a minivan. That's where I draw the line.

Bibliophalia... Its Not a Disease!

2010-01-19T22:51:00.001-08:00

Today I was a grouch. Not intentionally, of course. I just had a bad headache, so by the time 4:30 rolled around my temper was short.

Solution?

The library.

I arrived just before 6pm, entered the familiar elevator and promptly forgot to push the "up" button. So I stood for a moment, rocking back and forth on my heels... then realized the problem and up I went.

I love the library. It smells good and its quiet, and mostly, its full of books. I was there for three books in particular: Bruce Shelley's Church History in Plain Language, the Oxford Illustrated History of Christianity, and Susan Wise Bauers' The History of the Ancient World.

Thrilling reads, one might scoff. Well, I think they are anyway.

I had to laugh at myself when I was upstairs in the back right corner, squirreled away in the furthest shelves from the stairs (where for some reason they keep books on the ancient world and the American founding fathers-- I will never understand the library filing system.) The reason I laughed is because as I picked up my third book I then set it on the floor and immediately reached for another one-- The Histories written by Herodotus (the world's first legitimate written historian). There was another that caught my eye, and then another.

I steeled my inner will, put back Herodotus, picked up The History of the Ancient World and stood, fully intending to leave.

And as I walked down the stacks my roving eyes kept seeing titles flash out at me about Thomas Jefferson and Constantine and others... I realized in that moment I act in the library like most women act in a shoe store.

Books are my shoes.

Well, shoes are my shoes too... I love those as well.

But just as shoes or dresses catch the eye as one walks past windows or stores, books catch my eye.

Books on all sorts of things. Today I was on a mission for history books. But tomorrow it could be science fiction or fantasy, the next it could be Austen or Bronte. Maybe my History of Western Philosophy! I love books.

Still feeling quite disagreeable, but happy in my iron clad decision to only check out three books (which each weigh the same as a baby, it seems) I came home, promptly turned on "Say Yes to the Dress" on TLC, and read a chapter on Jerome, Clement and Origen, calming by the moment. Headache gone? Not so much, but that's okay.

On top of this evening full of books I stumbled on a British miniseries called "Lost in Austen". Premise? A modern British girl who is love with Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice finds herself somehow transported into the book's world and Elizabeth Bennett transported out into modern London in her place.

I think I might give my right arm to have that happen to me. If I wasn't so sure that God knows exactly what He is doing all the time I would've sworn that he put me in the wrong century.

However, the plus for me is that I have access to the kind of education, opportunities, and LIBRARIES that the Bennett girls would have never dreamed existed.

I will not lie, however. What girl in their right mind wouldn't want Mr. Darcy or Mr. Bingley or Mr. Knightley to show up declaring their love? Hmm! :)

I will be satisfied, however, in my three very large history books, some late night cereal (Honey Bunches of Oats is the current favorite), and some headache medicine. Perhaps tomorrow I will go back to the library to pick up the book I was just notified that came in for me.

Oh the life of a bibliophile!

The Green Giant

2010-01-17T18:03:00.001-08:00

I am a jealous person. In fact, it is by far the quickest-trigger "sin" in my life. With some people it is anger, or lust, or greed, or pride. With me its jealousy. That is somewhat embarrassing and humbling to admit.

It takes me about a second and a half to be jealous. Jealous of someone's success or achievements. Of someone's outfit, someone's confidence, someone's financial stability, someone's relationship, someone's anything.

Goodness gracious, the kind of person I become when jealousy is involved... look out. It turns me into a person I never thought I could be.

I remember about 5 years ago I was GREEN with jealousy over something in Amanda's life that I didn't have... and she didn't WANT, which made it even worse. Looking back on my behavior during that time I just want to kick myself. I was spiteful and mean and overly harsh when I spoke to her. My heart was so lime-verbena-ivy-chartreuse colored that I could hardly see straight.

That was a pretty extreme situation. Most of my jealousies are small... but there just the same.

The hardest things over which I become jealous are when I've been passed over. I will work hard, fit a description to a T, become the first to do a thing, or have a passion for something, but when someone else more popular comes along and does, says, IS, the same thing THEY receive the attention, the accolades, the support.......... the love.

Do you ever feel that way?

What is so missing in me that jealousy is so easily triggered?

Because its pretty obvious that our pet sins really are things that speak to something we lack. Whether its a lack of understand who God really is, a lack of real love, of truth, of forgiveness, of wholeness... My theology teacher used to put it in terms of an automobile covered in dents. The dents were a lack in the car, a hollowing out of what should be there, a lack of wholeness. Sanctification is God banging out the dents. :)

It doesn't come as a surprise to me that when I go to God with the question, "Why is jealousy my "go-to" sin?", that He would reveal that the reason, at least part of it, goes back to my quintessential lack... a lack of feeling loved and worth something. Everyone deals with something that seems to define them in their search for wholeness in God. My struggle is (and may always continue to be) a lack of feeling worth something, anything.

So when I feel like I do, say, create, or am something unique or special or maybe-just-this-once-great, that tender heart of mine that really doesn't believe its worth anything to begin with is vulnerable.

And because of The Fall, because I'm still habituated to thinking and feeling ways that are inconsistent with the truth of God, the instant that worth is questioned-- even if its just in my own mind!-- the defenses pop up and the Good Ol' Green Monster snaps up its head.

Would jealousy be an issue that any Christian would deal with if they felt true security in Christ? I think not. That is the root of this issue for me. My identity in Christ.

And that's what the Enemy loves to do. He sees where we're still broken, where we're vulnerable and he coats his barbs in the most magnetic-personalized-to-us kind of way so that the moment our brokenness comes to the forefront that arrow of sin isn't far behind.

I don't mean to say that sin isn't something we are responsible for. The Book of James discusses the nature of sin and how it is birthed. But what I think is so morbidly fascinating is that his tactics target the most deeply broken and desperate parts of us. His tactic is no-holds-barred and he fights dirty.

The probability of me remembering that the reason for my reaction is really a result of misunderstanding my identity in God the moment jealousy springs is not 100%. If I'm going to be honest, it is really probably not that high of a percentage at all... I'm still learning and growing, just like all believers are. Yet, if I can be aware of the Enemy's dirty tactics in combination with my own brokenness there might be a better chance of my catching the Green Giant before it overtakes me.

Because I know that tomorrow morning when I leave my house there will be endless bombardments of reasons to be jealous or wounded throughout my day. My only recourse is turning to the God who loves me and ask Him to be kind enough to show me NUMEROUS times a day that that is where my worth is found.

I haven't decided if discussing sin is cathartic or nerve-wracking, but I guess we'll find out! :)

Context: Is It Really King?

2010-01-15T18:19:00.000-08:00

The hazards of attending-- and then working for-- a Bible school that has a high emphasis on biblical theology and hermeneutics is that the instant a devotional, sermon, quote, paper or even a Facebook status flashes before my eyes I'm immediately in this frame of mind: "Well, what's the context of that passage/verse/book?"

That is not a bad hazard. In fact, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Come Away My Beloved was a beat up book I found in one of Hope's and my favorite old bookstores and is written in a style that takes on God's voice to his beloved. I found it in high school and it rocked my world.

For the first time in my life I saw words that weren't familiar and cannonical... they were fresh and seemed real, to breathe life into my soul that was so desperate for acceptance and love.

I carried it around at one high school summer camp and when I would eat alone at a table or feel left out or invisible I'd pull it out and read it.

When I got a gift certificate for Christmas I found a devotional journal with these daily excerpts from Come Away My Beloved and many other of Ms. Roberts' works and snatched it up immediately. It was the bottom of a wire bin at a Ross Dress for Less and I found it at the end of an hour and a half long search for the "perfect thing" to spend my gift card on. The student who gave me the card was exhausted and stunned that out of everything THAT was what I chose to pick. I was ecstatic.

A discipline that has always been very hard for me is getting in the Word daily, and not just in an academic way. I thought maybe the pages with pre-printed dates would be some motiviation, and it has been.

Strikingly enough, most of those devotional "thoughts" have been precisely what I needed to hear each evening or were convicting or encouraging.

However, the hazard of being such a stickler for CONTEXT in the Scripture has also led me to several evenings of sighing in frustration and being unable to gleen from the devotional any real encouragement because the verse attached to/inspiring the devotional is taken so out of context its absurd.

For instance, last night the editors of this devotion attached Numbers 32:23 ("But if you fail to do this, you will be sinning against the LORD; and you may be sure that your sin will find you out") to an excerpt about anxiety playing out in the health of our bodies and emotions... Both of these things are totally accurate... but they DON'T go together. The combination (and an added question at the bottom of the page) implied that all anxiety and sickness are a result of unconfessed sin.

Now, is it possible that anxiety and lack of health can be because of unconfessed sin? You bet! Look at David and some of his Psalms. But seriously, people, to say that "Your sin will find you out" in the form of sickness and ansiety every time is just absurd. Right? What makes me upset is two-fold: that some people out there would buy into ideas that are not contextually sound and have it affect their spiritual walk at an important and really base level, and two, that one of my favorite authors in high school might have actually been rather loose in her application of the Scripture in her encouraging thoughts of what God might say. That is rather disheartening, though I'm sure its just because I'm incredibly sentimental.

My thoughts tonight are, though, not to rail on this topic but instead to ask and ponder whether or not I am over-reacting to things which are removed from their real context. Can there be encouragement or hope found in things which aren't contextually sound?

I tend to think not, but I wonder sometimes if I get a big-bubble-Bible-head and think I know all of the answers.

I'd certainly appreciate feedback!

Wishing it Was Friday!

2010-01-14T18:20:00.000-08:00

Its never a good thing when you leave work wanting to cry.

Part of what I've accepted in myself that comes along with being a Disney-princess-wanna-be is that when people say hurtful or harsh things to me or to others I care about I want to cry. And often do.

Which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it also doesn't inspire a sense of confidence in the people around you either. It sends the impression that you're too sensitive to handle things and not tough enough to be in a place of influence, control or leadership.

I'm struggling with that today.

Does my leadership or worthwhile input in my jobs rely on my ability to be hard?

Or is there somewhere in between the "I want to cry" and "hard as nails" that would still let me be me?

Of course there's really only been one time I just lost it at work... that's about as embarrassing a story as any! I'll tell it sometime.

I'm fully aware that leadership and certain positions in life place one where they are more likely to be "under fire" or maybe even just in the way.I want to say I believe the Lord is my shield and my rear-guard, and that things shouldn't phase me if I am confidant in Him.

Is that true?

One of my favorite movies is "The Proposal." I totally relate to Sandra Bullock's character when she's finally opening up to her fake fiance, Andrew, and tells him that when someone called her a b@&*$^ she went to the bathroom and cried, even though everyone believes that she is hard nosed, rude and a witch. She cared more than anyone ever thought, but couldn't let herself be vulnerable.

Sometimes I get the impression people think that I am rude, uncaring, bossy and just like Sandra Bullock's character... That hurts, no matter how loved by the Lord I am.
_______________________________________

Well, enough with my pity party! :) Off to watch some of the guys in CSOM play at a talent show!

Words

2010-01-13T23:59:00.000-08:00

"Words, words, words, I'm so sick of words..." Thus sings Eliza Doolittle in the fabulous musical My Fair Lady.

That's how I feel tonight. Its because I'm tired, have a headache, pushed myself way out of my comfort zone tonight, and am all peopled- out.... not to mention sick of words!

Which is quite hilarious, considering that I'm writing at the moment, and words are one of the best things ever invented, if not THE best. Written language... amazing.

But I think my lack of love for words at the moment is because sometimes all I want is to be quiet. I talk too much. I think too much. I'm always spouting off my opinion, or venting, or singing, or writing, or talking, talking, talking...

My soul doesn't feel quiet, it feels crazy right now. Tonight I attended a new "house church" (like a home fellowship or home Bible study). Rather than ask our whole congregation to reassemble en masse midweek again and facilitate a lack of real community the leadership felt the Lord leading them to encourage house churches for unity and connection.

And I'm pushing myself out of my bubble not to immediately go to my comfort zone-- the W's. Tonight instead I drove out to my friends the G's, and had a great time. But from the moment I stepped out of the car I felt like I had to put on my armor.

My armor is the talkative, well-spoken, bright and smiley Kaela.

I did NOT feel that way inside. I was tired, and hurting and really just wanted my sweats. I had two hours of work waiting for me afterwards and it was such a stretch to go. Words, words, words, so many words...

Don't get me wrong. I loved it and am definitely looking forward to joining them every week. But when my comfort zone is nil and I feel like my words have all run out, what do I do? Where do I go when I feel crummy and my vocabulary skills have reached kindergarten level?

Well, to bed for one. (And to a bowl of cereal too... my latest obsession.)

And I guess I'm hoping I'll go to the Lord too. When I've reached my limit I usually take it out on other people-- usually the ones closest by and whom I love the most.

Lord, that you would quiet my soul, refresh my spirit and give me back my 5,000 word quota for tomorrow full of grace and real kindness, not the sugar-coated stupidity that can sometimes emerge?

It reminds me of that verse, "Let your speech always be with grace, seasoned with salt, that you may know how you ought to answer each one." (Col. 4:6). Amen, Jesus! Let it be so!

My New Professions: Helicopter Pilot and Office Mover

2010-01-09T12:26:00.000-08:00

It is only 12:30 on Saturday and I have already logged a superb weekend.

I haven't seen Brandon since Christmas and so we finally decided to hang out last night. One must understand that both of us are fairly non-decisive when we're together. Me, because I'm trying to be nice, and him, because he doesn't always want to make the decisions. It has been like this since the days of walking down the dirt streets in Nigeria. There were the typical "what do you want to do?" questions thrown back and forth. In my heart did I REALLY wanna watch another movie? No. :) And I had to study for something I'm doing on Tuesday with the school so I set an 8 o'clock time limit.

B answered the door holding his X-Box controller and it went down hill from there.

One must understand that I'm a girly-girlie-girl. As feminine and endearing as they come. (Hehehehe...)

So there I am, playing some hard, complicated war game, when all I've ever played in my life is either N64 Mario Kart and those cute cartoon racing games, and the occasional strategic-take-over-the-world-as-a-Roman-legion kind of games. Icky war games have never been up my alley.

I got so hooked. I was TERRIBLE but it was so challenging. Brandon was going crazy that I couldn't follow his directions. He was jumping up and down, getting close to the screen, yelling like a little girl as I repeatedly died over and over again... or failed to protect him, causing him to die over and over again.

It was fairly hysterical. 8 o'clock passed, 9 o'clock passed... "10 more minutes" I'd say, and we'd proceed to play for another 20. "Just 10 more minutes..."

Instead of a hard-core, game-face you must imagine me there, sitting sideways in the computer chair cheering every time I killed a fake-army-guy and jumping up and down on my knees. Brandon would charmingly say, "Good job" while brutally slaughtering the other five billion fake-army-guys and a helicopter besides.

Slowly I started to improve... I killed 10 guys once. Brandon decided I was eligible to move on to "help" him. So I became a helicopter pilot flying in the air shooting all the bad guys while he did whatever he was supposed to do... who knows that that was, because I was too busy trying to still figure out how to use the controller.

I can't remember when I've had that much simple fun. Its been a long time.

Then this morning was the morning slated to move my mom from her current office to the office upstairs. Just up two flights of stairs.

It took five of us and two hours. Me, my mom's colleague, my mother, my sister and my sister's best friend, who for some reason I have named our Little Christmas Elf (LCE). Do not ask why... I have no idea.

I accomplished almost nothing. In getting tired of waiting for the action to start-- after practically gulping my raspberry mocha down in efforts to wake up-- my sister and I decided we'd move the little couch so that the others could deal with the larger couch.

Fat lot of good that did. They were so worried that I'd be crushed, or drop it, or stumble up the stairs, kill or maim myself that they followed us up the stairs anyway.

Its a good thing because we barely got into the tiny lobby when I began to lose my grip. My sister patiently backed up the stairs, quite easily handling her end while I bobbed and weaved and repeatedly lost my grip below. I was laughing so hard I couldn't breathe and LCE kept darted in and out to make sure I didn't drop it. Half way up the stairs he just took over so I didn't hurt myself or someone else while I doubled over in the parking lot laughing. After that I was relegated to carrying cushions, lamps and the occasional table.

My sister and I had a great time poking fun at my mother and LCE, which caused enormous amounts of laughter. When we had consumed our fair share of coffee and scones, practically ripped off the door jams moving the couches into the new office and stood around gabbing for absolutely no reason I decided to head over to Michelle's, who was kindly donating a treadmill to my mother.

I arrived, thinking the crew was only minutes behind me. I opened the garage, moved the car, got the various and sundry items out of the way... and waited. And waited. I climbed onto the elliptical and slowly rose up and down... up and down... up and down... I burned a lot of calories waiting for the Clown Van to arrive.

The hilarity continued as we obtained the treadmill and transported it up the typically-slippery-wet-Oregon-deck steps of my parents home.

When all appliances and furniture were moved and the house was silent I just sat in a chair and stared for a good 10 minutes while the dogs played at my feet. I'm exhausted and its only Saturday afternoon! :)

Family is amazing. We're crazy, loony, argumentative, loving, antagonistic, faithful, loyal and did I mention CRAZY? I don't know what I would do without them.

We'll see how the rest of the weekend goes, with a start like this one!

The Soul's Paradox of Love

2010-01-05T00:38:00.000-08:00

I love the holidays, but I love getting back to normal even more. When I walked into the District Office today I couldn't help but grin! For the last two weeks I'd been going to work in a dark, cold, nearly empty office. Today it was full of life, people, warmth and light! In fact, I was even more productive, I think, just feeling the energy of a place that was alive with activity.

Its still another week till Cornerstone starts again and I kind of like getting my feet under me one thing at a time. There are still several odds and ends to take care of, but all in all I think this week will be just great. Especially if I can get back to working out! The holidays were not good to my figure. :)

I was reading Tozer's "Pursuit of God" tonight while on the elliptical (trying to distract myself so I'd go further) and was struck by the phrase that Tozer and that book are famous for:

To have found God and still to pursue Him is the soul's paradox of love.

How hungry-less I am for God. How I daily put Him in a box... or don't put Him anywhere at all. Where is my pursuit of God? I've found Him, yes. More importantly, HE found me.

But am I hungry for Him? Do I feel a NEED for Him?

The truth is of course I need Him. But do I cultivate a state of heart that lets me FEEL that need?

Truth be told, absolutely not. I was telling my mom tonight that I feel so unworthy of God's attention in even the smallest details of my life, which perpetuates the idea that I don't need to pursue Him, which is foolishness. Tozer reminds believers in a later chapter that God is a person and as such a relationship with Him can be had just like a relationship with any other.

But I don't go to Him like I go to my parents, or Haley or Michelle or the W's or Bran. I still can't quite get to that INTIMACY on which Tozer bases his entire premise.

And while I generally dislike prayers which an author writes out (thinking to myself, so full of pride, "I can say my own dang prayer!") I was struck by Tozer's prayer at the end of his chapter. I prayed with with sincerity, still running away on that elliptical, and share it here that we may be stirred on to desire, hunger and pursue Him more!

O God, I have tasted Thy goodness, and it has both satisfied me and made me thirsty for more. I am painfully conscious of my need of further grace. I am ashamed of my lack of desire. O God, the Triune God, I want to want Thee; I long to be filled with longing; I thirst to be made more thirsty still. Show me Thy glory, I pray Thee, that so I may know Thee indeed. Begin in mercy a new work of love within me. Say to my soul, `Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.' Then give me grace to rise and follow Thee up from this misty lowland where I have wandered so long. In Jesus' name, Amen. (A.W. Tozer, The Pursuit of God)

A Living Epitaph

2010-01-02T22:52:00.000-08:00

An interesting phenomenon that has occurred in the last five years or so is the sharing of up-to-date, on-the-spot, tidbit information about oneself via electronic communication.

Basically... Facebook, Twitter, Myspace... everyone can know what anyone is thinking at any given time.

And those small tidbits tell us something about those people.

Take my last few updates on Facebook.

December 25: Best Christmas Present this year? The handmade crepe-paper and green raffia "grass skirt" my mom handmade in anticipation of my trip in March. Just wait till you see the pictures! :)

December 26: I smell good.

December 29: What a very interesting day.

December 31: I do believe that M and I should open a new business: carmamel apple dipping! (Notice that I wrote so fast I misspelled caramel.)

January 1: When you ask for the manager people start paying attention! :) I've learned a lot the last year about assertiveness and it came in handy today. Should've asked for free drinks or money or something too!

and

Just got INCREDIBLY depressed. Going to bed now before it gets worse!

January 2 (Today): I love rediscovering things!

and

I have a love affair going with cereal.
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All day long we have access to tiny tidbits of information about people. What do the things I've posted in the last week say about me? If you take it at face value, it could mean I'm a hand-craft-lover-narcissistic-caramel-apple-dipping-pushy-patron-depressed-discoverer-who-loves-cereal.

Is that who I am?

No. Not really.

I was thinking about this tonight.

What do I want my life to say about me? What do I want to be known for?

I'm still not sure I've landed precisely on the what, but I am fairly certain of the how.

The how is... deliberately.

What ever I want my life to say about me, I must do it deliberately. Because if I do not, what my life will say about me is anyone's haphazard guess, a life thrown to and fro, tossed by the waves of adversity... or as my friend Michelle says... "riding the waves of emotion with joyful abandon!"

Which I probably still will do. While riding those emotional waves makes some quite seasick, I'm fairly certain I have a lifetime ticket for that cruise ship. :)

However, all these dreams and desires I have can either be hindrances that keep me from doing anything useful while waiting for my life to become something it never will become. Or my dreams and desires can be tools, surrendered to the hands of a God who I have to daily choose to trust, and those tools can fuel and motivate my life with purpose.

I'm not trying to be theological or rhetorical with this, but I'm learning that growth-- spiritual or otherwise-- must be deliberate.

So, is what will be known of my life 100 years from now be a string of Facebook status tidbits that told what I wore, where I went or how I felt in any given moment? Or will my life say something specific?

Like I said, I haven't quite landed on what that specific thing might be, but I'm fairly certain the Lord has an epitaph for me that will ring in eternity a little bit richer than my classic "I smell good." :)

So here's to learning how to deliberately live our lives so they say something about who we really are and Who we belong to.

French Women...

2009-12-31T17:27:00.000-08:00

... don't get fat!

The other night I was at Michelle's, curled on the couch reading a book. She was in the chair, reading a book. Amy, sweet friend and roommate of Michelle's (and one of our other travel-to-Nigeria-and-come-back-best-friends girls), was in the leather chair.... curled up reading a book! It was silent, delightful, quiet. We call times like that an Introvert's Party.

We got up and down a bit... talked randomly... and then Michelle put her book down on the ottoman to go into the kitchen and I spied it.

The title? French Women Don't Get Fat.

Now that's a provocative title.

I asked her if I could look at it. Thirty minutes later I was halfway through it. I came back the next day to finish it! (Check out her website at French Women Don't Get Fa t!)

My mom was a French major in college so I've always tended towards loving the language. I studied French for two years when I was at university. Sister Amanda (who is not a nun, by the way!) will attest to the fact that we barely made it through with our lives and grades intact! If I hadn't been so stressed and dealing with those stupid headaches (not to mention trying to graduate and write a thesis and all that) I would've paid much more attention to my French classes.

Because truly, I really love the French culture! I loved studying French history. I really enjoy the language... its so expressive. French food-- très bon! (My sister would think that I don't know anything about French food, which is true to a large extent. But I like French desserts!)

And I have decided to live my life more as a French woman. That book was inspiring! I won't do it injustice by trying to summarize here, but suffice it to say the New Year of 2010 will find me acting a little more French and a little more Disney-princess. We'll see how that combination goes!! :)

Happy New Year everyone!! May the Light of God's Love Hold You this Next Year!!

End of the Year!

2009-12-30T22:17:00.000-08:00

1. What did you do in 2009 that you'd never done before?
I ran a 5k!

2. Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I never have really had great success with this, but I did better last year than any year before. This year I'm only going to have one or two-- takes the stress off!

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Relatively close... welcome, Baby Nixon!

4. Did anyone close to you die?
Not this year, Praise God!

5. What countries did you visit?
Sadly this was the year without visiting countries outside the US. I'm pining.

6. What would you like to have in 2010 that you lacked in 2009?
Well, that could be a long list or a short one. The long one would be too long for here, but the short one will say: Whatever the Lord has for me. (I'm no good at planning my life anyway.)

7. What date from 2009 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
May 2, July 25 and September 5. Weddings of three of my favorite ladies!!

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Besides holding up through three weddings!? Learning to budget and be more financially stable.

9. What was your biggest failure?
Hmmmm... complacency.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Haha! I think if we rule out the day to day stuff and focus on the majors I actually may have made it through 2009 with nothing extraordinarily bad occurring. Its probably the lack of dancing.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
Of the whole year?! Well, I think the look on my sister's face when she opened her pristine, classic, illustrated version of Little Women that's about 100 years old I was pretty stoked. The other best thing I think: new brakes for my car!

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
The CSOM class of 08-09!

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
The gal that called to complain at work and got me so worked up I actually cried. That has never happened to me in all my years of complaint resolution!

14. Where did most of your money go?
Bills! :) And I've done a lot of little fun stuff, too, which has been delightful

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Weddings and my Snuggie. :) (Thank you Bran!!)

16. What song will always remind you of 2009?
"Halo" by Beyonce. Haley, you're the bomb!

17. Compared to this time last year, are you: happier or sadder?
Happier, much happier. If we compare to exactly this time last year.

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Spent time in the Word

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Time on Facebook!

20. How did you spend Christmas?
With my family, being entirely lazy, cooking a terrible breakfast and loving it all.

21. How will you be spending New Years?
Cosmos and caramel apples!

24. What was your favorite TV program?
TWO, count 'em, TWO seasons of So You Think You Can Dance

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
I can honestly say that question never crossed my mind.

26. What was the best book you read?
Hard to say, since I read so many books! I loved all the Mortal Instrument books, by Cassandra Clare, and The Woman in White, by Wilkie Collins. But to be honest, I've read so many I just couldn't pick, I tell ya.

27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
My greatest musical discovery was GLEE! :) And the "Wicked" soundtrack. Idina Menzel and Kristen Chenoweth... OUTSTANDING.

28. What did you want and got?
A little more financial security... slowly but surely!

30. What was your favorite film of this year?
Surprisingly for me, aside from all the givens like the Harry Potter films and so on, was "The Proposal"- Sandra Bullock, Ryan Reynolds. HYSTERICALLLLL!!!

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
Little party here, little dinner there... and I'm not telling!

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Having my Snuggie for much longer. :)

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2009?
Personal Fashion concept? Goodness, who knows?!

34. What kept you sane?
The Lord. Haley and Michelle. Writing. Weekly massages.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
That I fancy? Oh, well I do believe the most clever celebrity I fancied is... you know, I don't know!

36. What political issue stirred you the most?
The presidential race.

37. Who did you miss?
Sara

38. Who was the best new person you met?
Hmmm... this whole new batch of CSOM students, I do believe.

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2009:
It's okay to wait a little while.

Enchanted

2009-12-29T18:52:00.000-08:00

Last night I watched Enchanted. You know, that wonderful Disney princess-spoof on its own history of Disney princess movies. It got over and I was giggling in delight. And positively declared that I am completely unashamed of my love of the Disney princess-ideal.

Truth be told, I would enjoy nothing more than walking down the street, suddenly break into song and dance and have the entire street of strangers around me join in. I want to see the world around me in sparkles, bright colors, smiles and rainbows. To believe in something as powerful as true love.

The thing I love about Disney princesses is that they are not simpering, incapable characters. Belle, for instance, in my all time favorite Disney movie. She is well-read, brave, fiercely loyal and independent. Jasmine? She has a tiger, for goodness sake. Ariel-- she fights a sea witch and jumps a carriage over a gorge. Okay, now I'm just being silly.

But sometimes I feel as if in the Western, American culture of which I am a part requires that I lose my softness, my dreaminess, my love of things sweet, cuddly and good. In Enchanted the character Giselle does come to realize that love isn't as simple as singing a song and sharing true loves' kiss, but she never gives up her sparkle, her joy and her effervescent spirit.

I feel the world wanting to yank those things away from me. That in my late twenties I am far past the day of thinking fairy tales are real, that marriage is at its best when it simply doesn't end, and that I have to harden up and live through the bumps and bruises of life.

I don't want that.

I am a princess. A real, true life princess. I may not be in a Disney movie-- that's a bit sad, because who doesn't want to swim aorund in the ocean singing like the Little Mermaid? Okay, probably everyone.

But I find the ideals of effervescent love, bubbling goodness, joy, loyalty, tenacity, and friendship precisely the kind of thing I want my life to reflect.

Why mock a naivete? Why laugh at simple joy? I, for one, as much as possible, want to regain what it was like to be a little girl, believing in happily ever after.

I am a princess of a realm not quite here yet. I don't want to succumb to the lie of what the world says I should be as a woman to make it in this cruel world. I want to be strong and silly and independent and pretty and joyous. I will wear high heels and curl my hair and sing at the top of my lungs in the car. I want to represent my Father well and succumbing to an ideology of bleakness, power-mongering and selfishness would not do that. Its something that I fear happens to me too often.

Happily ever after does exist. And I believe that no matter how much pain and suffering we go through (because that's a reality that not a single person can avoid) there is hope.

And glitter. Lots of glitter!

Christmas Morning

2009-12-25T15:47:00.000-08:00

- French toast soaked overnight (per recipe) was so saturated it took forever to cook... outside too done, inside not done enough.

- Forgot bacon (requested by father) so went out this morning to Safeway to buy it. Thank goodness for Safeway!

- Sister launches off the couch at the very end of the Christmas story (right before prayer time) and disappears into the bathroom. There was much silence and staring... waiting... she appeared with three "wrapped" gifts that she forgot about and dashed in there to disguise. New uses for the bathroom are invented every day.

- Handed sister a box that I wrapped and put a label on a week ago, watched her open it and as she is saying "Oh how pretty!" I blurt out "Those are Mom's!" The face I got from my sister was priceless and we all laughed... once again... until we cried at my stupidity.

- My mother HAND-made me a green raffia and crepe paper "grass skirt" and bought me a "flower covered bra" to celebrate my trip to Hawaii in March. The pictures are priceless.

- Brodie got a squeaky toy, Fiona got a squeaky toy. Brodie promptly took her squeaky toy and proceeded to rip it open to find the squeaky. Thankfully we noticed before he ate it. Last time that happened, he ate plastic frog legs and the squeaky in that.... threw them both up later.

- Anticipating a much better dinner from my sister, the chef, than my breakfast turned out!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas

2009-12-24T13:47:00.000-08:00

Christmas snuck up on me. Which I think may be good for me. I put WAY too much emphasis on how I think holidays should be, too many expectations for the perfect movie-Christmas. You know what I'm talking about. Pristine outfits, massive decorations, perhaps with some family-drama that resolves in two hours time. And of course, we all know "Its that time of year when the world falls in love!"

However, this year I was so busy with work that Christmas didn't have a chance to build up to an enormous expectation that would inevitably end in an enormous let down. I am enjoying the relaxed pace, the "whoops I guess I forgot to get that thing" feeling, and anticipating new and old traditions.

An old tradition-turned-new happened last night. I went to the W's for what Ian described as "a little present giving" in his weird-I-was-once-a-middle-school-pastor-voice. We have had a "kids' Christmas" almost every year for as long as I can remember, but with everyone growing up and relationships changing, ebbing and flowing, I didn't even anticipate that this year.

Last night was perfect, precisely because there was no great, monumental build up. It was just a few phone calls, the randomness of being able to all be together on the same evening for a while. It felt like old times, when I was a teenager, except far better because we're all grown up now.

A tradition that will remain the same tonight is Christmas Eve service at church, which I look forward to every year. The lights are usually turned down low, the hymns and carols extra-sweet to sing, and the decorations glitter in the dark.

Without fail the one Christmas Eve tradition my family has never missed is eating my Mom's chili and cornbread and watching "A Charlie Brown Christmas." I can't even say why its so important, but it is. That tradition is perhaps the only one that I would fight to keep even if all of Christmas Eve fell apart... I'd be eating chili and watching that half-hour movie. Its quite necessary. And opening stockings... but to be honest, this year I think we all forgot about stockings! So, out with that tradition! :)

But a new tradition that came out of the blue this year is decorating the Christmas tree on Christmas Eve. Before today I NEVER understood families who got their trees on Christmas Eve... I always said "How can you enjoy it then?!" However, this year the tree is literally standing in my parent's living room BARE. It has been sitting there for days, just a tree inside. No lights, no ornaments. The weird thing is that no one seems to CARE! We're in and out of the house, barely seeing one another, so somehow it just became the thing we added to the Christmas-Eve-docket: decorate the bare tree in the living room.

Its quite freeing, to be honest. Looking at my past Christmas experiences I see this person who is so bound by tradition, rules, and unreasonable hopes, so its no surprise to me that when Christmas Day has come, in the past, nine times out of ten I want it to be over immediately. I would like to avoid it because its not what I wanted EXACTLY.

This year, without time or energy to build it up to anything beyond spending time with family, celebrating the CRAZY love God has for us, and reaching out to others, I have quite enjoyed myself and continue to! The girl whose favorite line in childhood was "Let's make a new rule!" is feeling quite good about having no rules this holiday, and purposely keeping it that way once I realized how fun it was!

In a very small way it is showing me another facet of what God did for me when He died for me and "freed me from the law." That's Christian-ese language we throw around all the time. But I recognize in myself a misunderstanding of what grace means. I have a dear friend who speaks of grace in the most incredible terms, talks about the love of God in a way that I still have yet to fathom, because she has been set free from a life of rules and regulations into a life where God's love for her has superceded all that she could ever do or be. And because she's experienced it she talks about it with a certainty and authority that always makes me think twice. I'm a slow learner apparantly because I can talk about it, but then I see in myself this constant need earn and to follow rules.

I wonder sometimes if that is why God has allowed me to have chronic headaches that have forced me, for years, to not meet expectations that I assumed were necessary. I couldn't get straight A's in college anymore. I couldn't always get out of bed in the morning even. Over four years time I've stopped making apologies for not being perfect when a headache is the result of what I see as failure. Because I know I can't help it and I do my best... and my worth isn't based on those things.

However, apparently that memo didn't get passed around to other parts of my life! So, this Christmas season has revealed another way that I was always trying to see and make things PERFECT and always was disappointed when they weren't. But God is revealing to me that its okay to be imperfect because He hasn't made me perfect yet.

I am sure this lesson will be learned MANY times before I go to be with Him. But for this year I'm glad to have that lesson applied to the season we celebrate His birth!
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The only thing I would change about this Christmas season was hearing my favorite Christmas song on the radio more than once. "I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas"... classic.

Two Turtledoves-- 2nd Day of Christmas!

2009-12-14T19:57:00.000-08:00

Life has a way of getting away from me sometimes. I can't believe its Dec.14 and the "2nd Day of Christmas!" I always loved that song when I was a kid. Okay, who am I kidding? I still love it!

December is flying by. I kind of hate that, because I love Christmas. Life has just hurried up... I hear that happens the older you get.

Someone told me the other day that I am the kind of person that takes moments in my day to refocus, to take care of myself. (Really? Could've fooled me!) But she pointed some things out that I do that might qualify. She was right, but I don't do it enough.

Here are some things I do to "refocus" or just take care of myself:

- Dollar Diet Cokes. It does wonders for my personality and its only $1.00!
- I sleep when I need it. I don't know another way to live anymore... my headaches get too bad if I don't.
- I go to movies by myself when I can. Just me, movie, snacks... don't have to talk to anyone for two hours.
- I watch TV shows online, once again for the reason I don't have to talk to anyone when I do.
- I listen to the radio at work- music or sermons
- I run
- I put on my light green, amazingly warm fuzzy robe and my leopard slippers and curl up. (Add the brand new cobalt-blue Snuggie I got for Christmas from best-brother-ever and warmth is guaranteed!)
- I put CD's on very loudly in the car and SING at the top of my lungs. I also do this other places too, actually. I think to some it could be quite annoying!
- I put on perfume
- I curl my eyelashes. Weird, I know. But it helps!
- I journal-- or at least I used to. I don't quite as much anymore

And at Christmas time I used to have a list of things that I did to make myself feel all "Christmasy". I haven't really done any of those things this year.... but I think I'll start this week.

One of the things that I like most to do is make hot chocolate, put on a Christmas movie, light candles and sit down to write Christmas cards. I don't know that that will actually all happen at the same time with how busy this week will be, but maybe if I can do one thing at a time it'll spark a little Christmas cheer. The Lord has already brightened my spirits with our wonderful Christmas brunch on Saturday and I want to keep His celebration forefront in my mind this week!

"On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me... two turtledoves... and a partridge in a pear tree!"

Where Else Can We Go?

2009-12-10T23:10:00.000-08:00

I have learned something about myself this week.

I hate being cold. Its very cold outside right now... a much drier cold than it normally is the Coeur de la Vallée.

I did not learn that I don't like being cold-- I already knew that. I did learn that I really don't mind the cold when its SUNNY and DRY!

News flash! Its never like this long enough in town to be sunny, dry and nearly freezing. Its almost always raining, sleeting, snowing... some kind of moisture when it is cold and it just soaks into my bones when humidity is involved.

So I learned I actually rather like the cold as long as it is sunny and dry. No snow, no rain, no biting sleet. Just beautiful.

This is quite new for me.
________________________________________________________

Sadly, my week has not improved. I can't remember the last time I had such a terrible week. I don't want to glorify that or emphasis it overly, because God is sustaining me. I described it to several of our church staff members as if I'm tumbling around in a washing machine! Unable to get my bearings and entirely ungrounded and out of sorts.

Perhaps its spiritual attack. Perhaps I am just overly-sensitive. Perhaps I am doing things unintentionally to cause all the things that have happened this week.

Its times like this I return to one of the most solidifying verses in my life. John 6:68-69

"But Simon Peter answered Him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. Also we have come to believe and know that You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” John 6: 68-69

This passage is when many disciples were leaving Jesus and He asked his twelve, "Do you also want to go away?"

Peter responded with a statement that has kept me through the absolute hardest times of my life. Where else can I go?

There is no where else to go for me. No other answer, no other strength. When I feel buffeted on every side (like that hymnal language there?!:) ), even when I just want to give up and hide in my bed till next Monday, He never changes. He gave His disciples the chance to leave, but they had ascertained one key thing: there's nowhere else to go.

So, here I am, in God's pocket, weathering unexpected storms, believing Him for sustaining power and joy in spite of being a bit bruised by that last "rinse cycle" I tumbled through. :)

Where is My Stupid Christmas Cheer?

2009-12-09T18:19:00.000-08:00

This was my "status update" on Facebook yesterday, in my continuous "Christmas Countdown." I have had a TERRIBLE two days in a row. It has been hard to get me down recently, so these days feel extra out-of-place... I feel happy most days, and even when issues arise, generally speaking, they are limited and minor.

The last two days have been one huge cake of not-so-great layered onto super-hard layered onto giant-misunderstandings layered over spiritual-attack topped off with a lovely cherry of a headache.

So yesterday at the end of myself I found the question ringing in my head, "Where is my stupid Christmas cheer?!"

Christmas is my second favorite holiday. (Those of you who know me well will of course immediately remember that the Fourth of July is my absolutely, #1 favorite holiday.) So when the days are ticking by-- so few of them left-- in the joyous, beautiful Christmas season I was frustrated that I have no Christmas cheer.

Just sitting down here to write is making me refocus on why Christmas is so lovely. Its because its about Jesus, about being light to the world, celebrating the enormous gift of salvation and the Incarnation. Its simply celebrating Jesus... or at least it should be.

On Saturday we will be having our annual Ladies Brunch for the church and our sweet women's leader asked me to sing a song. I immediately assumed it would be a Christmas song and so began hunting around for good ones, like O Holy Night and such.

But a song I have come to love recently was ringing in my ears anytime I thought of the brunch. It is a version of Samuel Francis' 1843 hymn entitled Oh the Deep, Deep Love of Jesus.

I couldn't get that song out of my head and I knew it was the one for Saturday. Simply Celebrating Jesus... its the theme of the brunch and I'm asking the Lord to make it the theme of my heart tonight even with two bad days behind me. Because its a celebration of His DEEP, DEEP LOVE...

wherein I can find all the Christmas cheer I could ever need!

Oh the deep, deep love of Jesus
Vast, unmeasured, boundless, free
Rolling as a mighty ocean
In its fullness over me
Underneath me, all around me
Is the current of Your love
Leading onward, leading homeward
To Your glorious rest above

Oh the deep, deep love
All I need and trust
Is the deep, deep love of Jesus

Oh the deep, deep love of Jesus
Spread His praise from shore to shore
How He came to pay our ransom
Through the saving cross He bore
How He watches o’er His loved ones
Those He died to make His own
How for them He’s interceding
Pleading now before the throne

Oh the deep, deep love of Jesus
Far surpassing all the rest
It’s an ocean full of blessing
In the midst of every test
Oh the deep, deep love of Jesus
Mighty Savior, precious Friend
You will bring us home to glory
Where Your love will never end

© 2008 Sovereign Grace Praise (BMI)

Grammar for Lightbeings

2009-12-07T23:35:00.000-08:00

I had the strangest thing happen just now. I am in my parent's dining room eating reheated dinner from yesterday because today was a board meeting and I have had a total of a 40 minute break the entire day. It was a pretty bad meeting as board meetings go and I didn't leave my office till 10pm.

This required some running on the treadmill, protein, and I have now just stuffed my face with a small brownie/cheesecake concoction that my sister made. A little less stressed now.

But the strange thing that happened was my mom, glancing at some paperwork from her job today, realized that one thing had been printed on the backside of a recycled spam email. She began reading it and we both started laughing outloud.

D. Stone's Newsletter is for free spirits interested in nontraditional subjects. These nontraditional subjects can include the following (though I'm sure D. Stone can speak to many other made up things...)

Soul Retrieval
Psychic Past Life Therapy
Horary Astrology
Grammar for Lightbeings
And....wait for it... CATS

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, there you have it. All you ever wanted to know about the cooky, the crazy, the colorful... and cats.

We are both standing here in the dining room just laughing till we cry. It could be the exhaustion factor of 12 hour days for both of us, but the irony of placing Grammar for Lightbeings and Cats in the same sentence strikes me as funny!

It was the Grammar for Lightbeings that caught me in the first place.

Question#1: What is her definition of a lightbeing?

Question #2: Why do they need grammar?

Question #3: Is she certified as Highly Qualified for teaching grammar to lightbeings? Because, in Oregon, its a requirement that you have Highly Qualified status to be teaching any subject. I'd like to see her credentials.

______________________________________

Truly, though, this whole thing, while funny, does get to the heart of something very real. Humans are natural bent towards things of the spirit. In certain theological circles this idea can be referred to as humans having "spiritual longings" and is actually a defining factor of what helps us recognize the existence of God. That men long to connect with something outside themselves and other humans is a good indication that something outside us exists. There are many other factors that point to the truth that that "something" is indeed a person, the person of God.

We over-complicate things so tremendously. Its fairly incredible the lengths we go to to devise "answers" for ourselves, when the truth is incredibly simple.

And complicating it all the more is an Enemy who spends every ounce of energy capitalizing on our fears, our desires, our sins and our mis-perceptions. To the point where a legitimate spiritual longing turns into Grammar for Lightbeings and so on.

He's a robber of souls and we help him along his merry way, buying into these falsities.

Its sad really, as I sit hear thinking about it. I wonder if D. Stone has ever really known truth.

The term lightbeing isn't too far off... in Scripture God is described as Light. He would be the ultimate Lightbeing.

However, I'm fairly certain that if anyone would be needing to learn LightBeing grammar, it would be me, not Him. :)

Maybe they'll offer a class in heaven. Even better, I just remembered that I have a book my work bag that gives me a pretty good look into His vocabulary... His Word. Oh that I would treasure it more...

God's Place and Mine

2009-11-24T23:06:00.000-08:00

Its 11:07.

Well, at least according to the computer clock. Which is absolutely right, until Brandon tells me his is right. We used to have this silly game where we'd be talking along and suddenly one of us would say the time... like, right now I'd just randomly say 11:08 (which, it is now). His clock was always one minute different than mine and we'd have plenty of fake arguments about whose clock was right. It was just a silly game, but every time I look at the clock now I think about it. Our clocks happen to be the same these days, for some reason, so it takes the fun out of the game slightly.

Its 11:09 now, and I'm so tired. Its been a long day. I feel like a wimp so much of the time, feeling worn out when I feel like I do so little. My life is busy, yes, but compared to so many other people's lives I'm a wimpy.

Everything was going along okay till this evening. Then I felt like all sorts of internal things happened at once-- fear of man, criticism of myself, unexpected emotions, heavy conversations with someone precious to me. It just made my soul weary.

Which promptly makes me think of the verse where David is speaking to himself and saying, "Why are you downcast, oh my soul? Rejoice in the Lord!"

Things have been so amazing lately, despite failures on my part, which of course always will be a struggle.

But for some reason tonight I felt like all the Enemy's arrows were pointed at me and firing simultaneously. Feeling defeated, "why do I even try?", overwhelmed with my own incapability. Feeling judged and alone and defenseless. Feeling forgotten or that every single thing I touch gets ruined. (Charlie Brown quote, anyone!?)

Which is all utter foolishness!

None of those things are true. But when a person is tired (me) those lies and darts stick awfully tight.

It is SO hard to put myself out there sometimes. Hard to jump and then feel like a failure and still keep going. To hope that God sees some value in it, in me.

One of the biggest lies is that I am the only one who feels that way. Perhaps I feel that way more than most (I'm so overly sensitive and admit it!) but when I begin to give credence and credit to those feelings and emotions as absolute truth, they incapacitate me.

So I may not be the next Whitney Houston. Maybe I'll never be the girl who everyone wants to talk to. Maybe I'll never be chosen. So I might always be a little clutzy, say the wrong thing, feel the wrong thing, or expect the wrong thing. But I'm trying.

I don't want to get to my death bed and say that I wanted to live life to the fullest but was too scared. Too scared to open my mouth and sing, even when it sounds terrible. Too scared to talk to someone new, or to invest my heart, or to be faithful in the little things.

Humanity is something I won't be rid of until the Lord comes back, but my place is with Him. I don't get to play the "scared" card anymore-- He is my strength and fortress and ever present help in time of need.

So even when I mess up, when I'm scared, when I'm lonely, when others I love are deeply hurting and I can't fix it, Jesus I will hide in You. Where else can I go? Only You have the words of life.
________________________________________________

In preparing for something that we were doing tonight, this afternoon I was reviewing a "newish" song that I don't know really well, letting it play over and over again while I was working. I was singing it in my head, singing out loud on the way to my car.

But I realized, half way to my car, that I was singing all day these incredible words and was not paying attention to them! They were powerful, and I want to share them here:

O Lord bless me and keep me
Cause Your face to shine on me
Lord be gracious
Lift the light of Your countenance give me peace

I live only to see your face so shine on me

Let the light of Your face shine down on my heart and let me feel it

I live ONLY TO SEE YOUR FACE. I was struck with that. I don't live only to see His face! I live to see my own needs met and wants fed and loves tended to. But do I WANT to live only to see His face? Now that's a yes.

And a daily charge set before me-- to live singlemindedly to see Him. It follows logic if that I see Him, everything else will fall into place.
_____________________________________________

Having written all this out and talked it through was a good exercise. It doesn't make me want to cry less, nor does it remove my insecurities. But I needed to be reminded of God's place and mine-- I can obey only Him and trust that He'll take care of the rest.

My Happy Weekend

2009-11-23T20:57:00.000-08:00

This last weekend my church put on a Leadership Conference. It was an amazing time and two things really stood out to me.

The first was when Jean, the wife of our main speaker, spoke at a women's session.

It was my first session of the day, having been warding off headache for the early morning, and I got there at the last minute, slipping in to sit next to sweet Jessica. When Jean told us that she would be speaking on a woman in David's life (her husband had been teaching on David in all his sessions), I immediately thought "Abigail!" I turned to Jessica and fairly squealed and hugged my Bible to my chest.

Strange reaction, I guess. Except that Abigail is possibly my favorite woman in the Old Testament. A few months ago I was thinking about how the men I'm drawn to are just like David, the warrior-poet type. Strong, hardcore, passionate, who love God with not only their hearts and souls but their actions and passions.

But the thing I realized after reading 1 Samuel 25 is that men like David don't like fluffy, simpering, whiney women. They want strong, patient, courageous, independent and beautiful women. Just look how David reacted when Abigail came to him, pleading for her crazy, cruel husband. He was totally taken by her courage and humility.

(Michelle and I at the name tag table)

(I'm not gonna lie, in my romantic-laden heart I am really glad the Lord saw fit in his justice to pay Nabal for his evil. It might be terrible, but I'm really glad that Abigail and David ended up together.)

I prayed to the Lord that night that he would make me that kind of woman, a woman like Abigail.

That's why I was so excited to hear Jean talk about Abigail. She did a wonderful job, highlighting the importance of inward beauty, not just outward beauty. Abigail always did the right thing before the Lord, no matter what her husband did nor what David did. She was respected in her household. A woman who thought quick on her feet, and, unlike me, she knew how to feed hungry men. :)

I pray the Lord will make me into a woman like Abigail.

____________________________________________

(Some of the students, Adam and I Saturday morning)

The other thing was a realization I came to on Friday night after getting home late from helping the CSOM students clean up from the evening session of the conference. Though I was worn out from being with people for days on end (I'm an introvert), I had had the most delightful time with the students. I love being with them. They are unique people that are so fun to be around. Jeremiah was making me laugh as we greeted people coming into the conference. Michelle and Jessica were drawing lovely pictures on nametags and making me feel special. Some of them were working the coffee cart, which is never a bad thing in my book. I just love them all. They are precious children of God, some of them my peers and some just about there.

(Coffee cart!!!)

We sat together for the session and despite being tired I had a rip-roaring good time. (Especially when Jeremiah mimicked me running my hand through Amy's hair by trying to do it Jordan, who was sitting next to him. Suffice it to say Jordan squirmed like a bug under a magnifying glass and we got a good laugh out of it for two days.)

When I got in the shower very late that night I was thinking about what the evening had been like and it struck me... I'm so glad I'm not married because I would never be able to connect, relate, spend time with and generally "belong" with the students like I do now. My focus would be split and I wouldn't be as "in it" as I feel now.

I have never, in my entire life, ever felt that way about anything. Its always been my strongest desire to be loved and to belong to someone. Nothing has ever even come close to vying for that desire's place in my heart.

(Two of my favorite girls!!)

And now, though I would love it if God brought me someone, I am literally GLAD that I'm single so I can pour every minute out like I'm doing. It gives me such a charge to be in ministry and be right smack where God has lead me.

It may not seem like much to anyone else, but for those who know me well and have known my long-seeded desire to be in relationship with someone who loves me and wants to marry me, this may come as a large surprise.

I know it did to me! But what a pleasant one, to be so utterly content. A strange conclusion to come to, I guess, that I'm happier unmarried for the first time in my life, but I finally get what Paul was saying in 1 Corinthians, that at times its better to be unmarried because one can be fully devoted to the things of God. For some reason I assumed Paul meant that one can't be in relationship at all to be devoted to God. But how foolish! Relationship is what its all about!!! And I have much in the way of relationships these days. I have my family, and Haley and Blake, Michelle, the Westfalls, Brandon, my church family and the school. I have relationship coming out my ears! :)

I know that if God ever does bring me a David this time I'm in now is preparing me to be the best Abigail I can be. God, let it be so!!

___________________________________________

I'm looking forward to this week as one to relax, recharge, catch up with things at the District, eat pumpkin pie (which I will not be making, lest it turn out horribly), and hang out. Not to mention a little "New Moon" action with Michelle and her sister. That'll be tight. (Team Jacob all the way guys, not gonna lie!)

My Fodder's Birthday

2009-11-19T14:45:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was a doozy of a day if there ever was one.

About 11pm Tuesday night I realized I had a sore throat, felt crummy, and my headache was changing into one that could've been bad. So I emailed my bosses and asked for the day off on Wednesday. I figured I'd go in for devotions with the CSOM students and then just come home and sleep the whole day.

Wednesday morning dawned. I rolled out of bed, bleh, bleh, bleh. Wandered to the church, thinking to myself that I'd slip out after worship.

Not so much.

By 9:30 I could see that I was in for the long haul. Students to call, emails to check, questions to answer. Even so, I thought, maybe by 10:30 I'd be able to hit the door.

Instead at 10:30 I was hitting the cupboards in the copy room with my foot, trying not to yell in frustration. A huge job I had intended to do Thursday (today) had to get moved to yesterday because Adam kindly gave the students today off.

Great for them. More Wednesday work for me. Okay, not so bad, I thought. I'll run the copies (86 pages x 30 sets), starting binding them when the copies are half way through and make calls and answer emails in the mean time.

Well, that didn't happen. 12:15 rolled around and I was setting copy set 22 on the stack to take down to the classroom. The electric binder and I did NOT get along. I can't decide if it was because I was feeling sick and had a headache that the binder and I fought, but by the fourth "book" I was binding I was hitting the cupboards. Finally I broke out the Old Faithful Binder, which I have used many a time since I was 16 years old. New Electric Binder can go in the garbage for all I care.

I triumphed and Adam and I got a good laugh out if. But I was so ready for comfort by 1:00pm. Didn't get home till 2:00. Sure, that's okay.

I curled up in the big purple chair in the living room, at some warm chili, watched The Show, and wrote.

When I got up to take a shower the day started going down hill again.

The shower was fine, but then I got out and realized that the dryer hadn't actually dried the clothes I wanted to wear. Still very wet. I ran them again, dried my hair and proceeded to straighten my hair.

It didn't go so well. My hair has gotten pretty long in the past few months and I've only straightened it twice. Right out of the shower and freshly dried it gets really fluffy and soft. Which means it just won't straighten. Took an hour- because I was half way through when I wanted to give up. Oh well. At least I was listening to delightful music on Pandora.com.

Then the computer battery died. I was too weary to go plug it in. No more music.

My dad's birthday was yesterday and my dad is as family oriented as they come. Being with him on a special occasion means more than anything to him, certainly more than a present or card. But his birthday celebration was 2 hours away in Big City. My sister had arranged for reservations at this swanky jazz club. Reservations at 8ish. He told me not to come since I felt crummy, but I just had to-- I knew how important it was.

I don't know if the dryer is broken or what, but my clothes were still wet an hour later. Abandoning those vestments I changed clothes and shoes three times. Restraightened my hair twice because it was still poufy. Used a lot of hairspray. It was 6:15 and I still hadn't done my makeup or put gas in my car.

Sister came home at 6:30pm; I begged that we could drive together, but she was driving with her best friend, whose car I just wouldn't fit in.

Resigned to a long drive feeling crummy, I finished my makeup and dashed around looking for my purse and so on. As I was leaving the bathroom, I swung the door closed--- right on my finger. OUCH! I dropped my phone on the floor and for the second time in the day was stomping my foot, this time in pain. Back into the bathroom to run my finger under cold water while trying to think of words to say that were expressive enough for the agony shooting up my finger while remaining holy. There were none, so I resorted to "OWWWWWWW!" a lot. Bethany walked down the hall and looks at me; she calmly said "Did you know you dropped your phone?"

BLAH!

I had the imprint of the door on the pad of my finger and if I was a cartoon you would've seen it throbbing in great pulses, so I begged to her to at least let the dog out before we left so I wouldn't have to put his collar on one handed. She did and then laughing quite loudly at my plight (we were both laughing, let me clarify) she left the house.

When I finally got on the road it was 6:50. My finger was still throbbing and I realized in all that time it had taken me to get ready I had forgotten to put on deodorant. Yes, this day was just going downhill fast.

One of the only good things about long drives are that it gives me lots of time to choreograph in my head. So I was driving up the freeway with my elbow propped on the middle console, hoping that no one would think I was flipping them off as I held my hand in the air (it was my middle finger that was throbbing.), and playing the same song over and over again, choreographing in my head. An hour and 45 minutes later I was pulling into Big City, repeating my sister's directions over and over in my head so I wouldn't get lost.

I was doing great. Maneuvered my way through the tight busy streets and found the jazz club, right between Davis and Everett.

And no parking.

Drove around the blocks surround the club for 10-12 minutes. Around and around and around. Almost got in an accident, and telling the Lord- loudly- "Did I tell you how much I hate this city?"

After several frustrating passes I realized that tucked on the corner right next to the club was a tiny parking garage. I parked, tried to gather myself together and walked into the jazz club.

This should tell you how often I go to places where they only let adults in. The guy at the door was just looking at me as I stumbled in, trying to pass myself off as cool and sophisticated. That act lasted about 30 seconds when my mother had to tell me to check in and I had to ask the guy what he needed-- my ID of course.

Wow.

Everything went fine for a while. The place was packed, and when I say PACKED, I mean it. I've never seen tables put so close together. And since it was a live jazz club the music was pretty loud, but not loud enough that people could talk. So there was much sign language at my table, me and my sister leaning over my dad to "talk" about the menu. My sister's poor best friend was just sitting there looking a little scared as my family- in our over-the-top- way figured out what to order.

Calm reigned for a while. We enjoyed the incredible music. The drummer was a man named Mel Brown, a famous jazz drummer who has played with Sinatra and Diana Ross (and many more I'm sure.)

I'm eating my gyros, minding my own business, when suddenly I noticed that something was wrong.

I had worn high heels with my jeans, attempting, I'm sure, to pass off as sophisticated. However, it may not have been the best move for me, because I realized that somehow my heel had gotten stuck between the floor and the table base. Stuck, as in, NOT coming out.

That was the last straw. I started laughing uncontrollably, tears streaming down my face. It was a silent laugh, because the music was still playing. My dad leaned over, wondering what was going on, and after I was able to choke it out to him, he started laughing. The information that my shoe was now stuck under the table made its way through our party, and a few seconds later we were all CRYING so hard we couldn't breathe. I couldn't remember the last time I laughed that hard. My dad almost head-butted the girl seated behind him (we were that close), because he threw his head back laughing so hard.

Meanwhile, my heel is still quite stuck. When I finally got myself pulled together, I reached down and wiggled it out.

My family and Sister's Best Friend had just composed ourselves when I reached down to my plate to pick up a french fry and instead of it making the journey to my mouth it flew out of my hand!!!! Since the tables were so packed it flung to the left and hit the girl sitting next to me in the leg.

I lost it all over again. The same process occurred once more, with one person telling another what had happened. More belly laughing, many more tears, and a lot of angry customers looking at us with deep frowns for interrupting their sophisticated experience.

Not too long after the music set ended and we were able to talk in regular tones. The stories and laughter were flying at the table; I must've worked off every calorie that was in my dinner.

We unanimously decided that my day was priceless fodder for blogging. Then, of course, my mother made a most terrible pun about my Fodder's Birthday (Father's Birthday).

______________________________________________

My family has been through a rough season the last several months and I can't express how healing it was to spend time together and just laugh. I still felt crummy and my headache definitely worsened, mostly because of the laughter, but it was worth every minute of my day.

So Happy Birthday, Fodder! :)

What Moves You?

2009-11-18T15:11:00.000-08:00

Every summer my world revolves around two things: softball and The Show. In the fall it revolves around work and the holidays. In the winter it revolves around work, the holidays and dance training, and in the spring its dancing, eating, sleeping and dancing (though I think I may go to work somewhere in there).

But this fall I'm totally thrown off. The DANCE show (otherwise known as just "The Show", or to most, "So You Think You Can Dance") is playing for a 5th season-- except it already played in the summer.

It's really messing with my head and my schedule, because there is a set-summer-routine that almost always begins with me being at the Westfall's at least two nights a week for the show, usually following a softball game. (I watch, not play. Boy, that would be a disaster-and-a-half!)

That's just not feasible in the fall when things are going crazy busy.

So last night I watched part of The Show with Monique and recorded the last half. I'm NOT feeling well today, so after working this morning and some of the afternoon I headed home to curl in the armchair, eat chili and watch The Show.

I almost cried twice.
________________________________

A few years ago I was watching OPB one night and this guy I'd never heard of was starring in a concert. He sang a song and it was the first time someone's voice had ever moved me to tears. His name was Josh Groban. If you've never heard of him by now, you have to be living in a hole.

A few years ago there was this little known show and on it a runner up named Travis Wall. He has since returned to that show, which is now a REALLY known show, and has become one of the most incredible choreographers. His work is always unbelievable, but last night two dancers showcased his work wonderfully and it almost brought me to tears.
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How is it that we are creatures that can be moved to the core of who we are by various things? I am moved by music and dancing. Some are moved by a well-written book (ok, me too on that one).

What moves you?

I'd like to know. :)

And check this out: Jason and Jeanine . This is some of Travis Wall's choreography from last year. Breathtaking. And this: Remember When it Rained. Best Josh Groban song ever.

Sigh. Happy sigh.

God is in the Bathroom

2009-11-16T22:32:00.000-08:00

Its late and I got home from a board meeting only 45 minutes ago, but I feel revived after some amazing dinner and a good- if not odd- conversation with Brandon and getting to play around on Facebook.

So I decided to take a few minutes to blog about the CSOM Fall retreat.

On Thursday the whole class took off for the coast, hours and hours of driving to get there. The houses we are blessed to use are very small with 26 or 27 people in them, but it made it even more cozy, I thought.

Thursday night was a little rough. God has been stirring the staff with a concern about unity in the school and some tough conversations were had on Thursday night between the students, hashing out what they thought could be going on or the solutions. It wasn't divisive, just thought provoking.

It prompted me the next day to keep thinking through the issue and in conversation with the rest of the staff and a few students who gave some input I finally landed on this: Unity shouldn't be equated with fellowship. Fellowship can be had without total unity (I know, I've experienced it), and I fully believe that unity can be had without spending a specific amount of time socializing and talking. Its a unique thing to the Body of Christ to be able to unite because of the Spirit. We were struggling because not only had there just not be sufficient time for there to be total comfort among the class, but we were overlapping the two subjects as if they were the same.

Through some trial and error, some tough conversations, and a lot of time spent cuddling, laughing, listening to the Word, amazing worship, good food, playing on the beach, sleeping and talking the roads were paved for some deep fellowship AND real unity.

The most blessed thing to me personally about the trip was the time I got to spend with the girls in the class. One sweet gal is bearing so many different responsibilities and burdens and you'd never know how much she feels that weight. Her gracefulness, kindness and sweetness are truly Spirit-fed because her load is heavy.

One night we sequestered ourselves in the downstairs bathroom and talked because it was the only place there weren't other people. God MET us. It was somewhat amusing to begin with , because from our Nigeria Team's time in Africa last year Michelle, Amy and I have a phrase we frequently use-- God is in the bathroom. Its true. God is even in the bathroom.

And that bathroom became a sweet, holy place of tears, conversation and love for someone who needed to be seen and heard by the Living God. That time was so precious. We often times say that one place is holy and another is not, because we, as men, have designated it so.

But God is everywhere, and as believers, His Spirit is in us. So, God is even in the bathroom and can meet us there too. (If there are any mom's out there, I think you will probably agree... though I'm not a mom, I've heard many a "God-in-the-bathroom" story before.)

Also, the Lord led the group to break up into gender-based groups after a session one night, in which one of our students shared on the Blood of Christ and how it, and it alone, makes us Children of God and changes us. But we so often don't live as sons and daughters of God.

The time spent with just ladies in the upstairs room of the girls' house was incredible. I have been doing ministry for a lot of years and have had many "girl talk" times. But this was a powerful time of sharing deep fears, insecurities, lies we believe and struggles we face that keep us from taking hold of God's truth that we are his children. And not just genderless children, but DAUGHTERS and SONS. Fashioned in His image. Bought with His blood. Powerful in His Spirit.

When we first began to talk, we were just sharing impressions about the teaching. I felt the Lord impress on me that we needed to each go around and share the lies we believed, the struggles we face, the things that keep us from embracing a life as a child of God.

WHEW! Can you imagine how I felt at that moment, facilitating this conversation with these women?! What deep and personal things for me to ask of them! I hardly even tell those things to anyone, let alone a room full of women. Let alone a room full of women whom I'm supposed to be some kind of leader for. Yikes.

It could've flopped big time. Could've killed us. But each woman and girl stepped up to offer the deep parts of their heart to the rest of us. It was unbelievable. Now, I almost always cry at anything, so telling you I cried is like telling you the sun came up. But we have some non-criers in our group and when even they were in tears and passing the tissue and sharing their lives I was overwhelmed.

But the best part came when we got all those things out on the table, so to speak, and then proceeded to declare truth into each others' lives. We singled people out to tell them the truth about themselves, per God's word and character, and share words of encouragement and love. It was incredible.

There is such power in truth. Even when we don't necessarily believe it in our emotions, truth is truth. And it is healing. We talked for three hours, with necessary breaks for M&Ms, tissues, Rice Krispy treats and hugs.

This year I didn't get sick, but practically everyone else was! :) That was an adventure and a half.

Other fun moments:

- Driving the car on the beach, with the sun roof open, blaring the Beauty and the Beast soundtrack. I know, it sounds lame, but it was fun! :)

- Worship

- Watching Jer and Jordan wrestle. That was funny

- Dance circle after our final prayer

- Cuddling with Jessica! My love language is most DEFINITELY physical touch and so to have another person who is as cuddly as I am was so fun

- Michelle coming and cooking for the weekend. It was one of the most incredible, self-sacrificing things anyone has ever done for me

- Eating M&Ms, singing loud and laughing a lot with Meg on the way home

- Sleeping in, when normally at a retreat I would never be able to

Off to read some student outlines of Ezra and get ready for my Favorite Tuesday tomorrow.

Sayonara!

2009-11-12T10:20:00.000-08:00

I have an extra blessing of getting to be at home right now instead of having to have left at 6am this morning for the Big City (which I dislike anyway) for a board secretaries conference. Don't have to be there til 1pm now. Hallelujah. I need the time!

This week has been crazy full! Lots and lots of work and preparing for the School's fall retreat on top of it all. I am unbelievably grateful for the help I've received regarding the retreat. Little things are all that are left to be done-- like try to hunt down the movie "Luther", which Adam wants to watch tonight. I've just added the movie store in Retreat Town to my cell phone contacts in hopes that I can call them later and they will tell me they have it!

I'm looking forward to this retreat so much, especially just getting to spend time with the students outside the classroom. They are such awesome people and love the Lord very much. I'm praying that God meets us in a very tangible way during our time, even though it will be cold and rainy. (What am I saying? Its always cold and rainy in Oregon this time of year!)

Enjoy your weekends, all, and I'll post pictures of the retreat when I return. That is, if I remember to charge my camera battery!

To Serve and Protect

2009-11-11T15:31:00.000-08:00

Today I'm thinking about my friend Josh, who is overseas with the military. He and his wife KM have been involved in my church for many years, but it isn't till recently that I've gotten to really know Josh. Being so far away means he spends a lot of time Facebooking practically the whole of Calvary Chapel in order to stay updated. :) So there is much chatter back and forth, mostly teasing me on a daily basis. He has been such an encouragment in my writing and his wife and I are finding that we share many things in common.

A few weeks ago I asked Josh if he could do anything in the world what would he do? (It reveals a lot about a person when you ask that, but apparently no one does!)

Josh's responses were comical to me (because I'd like nothing better than to stay holed up in my house reading books in my sweats for the rest of my life and his answers were all active and outdoorsy and macho) but admirable as well. His responses all had something to do with defending others and countries he loves.

That's a quality I admire in many of the men I know, but today I'm specifically think of Josh today as we celebrate Veteran's Day.

Defending our country, our families, and our freedom is not just about being part of the military. It is common element across the entirety of the existence of the United States, that we, as a culture and people, have chosen to value honor, diligence, loyalty and sacrifice. The Armed Forces exemplify this for us. Choosing to set aside individual autonomy and associate themselves with a group whose primary purpose is to serve, protect and defend is something that gives me chills, even right now as I'm writing this.

Thank you to every single person who chooses to value these things and represent us to the world. The values of loyalty, truth, justice and defense on the behalf of others are found deep in the heart of God and you emulate Him in this way.

To Josh, Nicole and all the others who serve our country have a Happy Veteran's Day and thank you!

Favorite Tuesdays

2009-11-10T18:43:00.000-08:00

I have a favorite day of the week.

It is not Friday or Saturday (though I love those days).

It is not Monday. I don't know many people who love Monday.

Nor is it even Sunday.

It is Tuesday.

I love Tuesdays.

A typical Tuesday for me begins too early for my liking, but then again, almost every day begins to early for my liking. I would stay in bed every day till 1pm if I could. I'm a snuggler.

But I get up early. With Daylight Savings Time its finally light when I waken. A few weeks ago it was infinitely harder to wake up, when the night time shadows didn't dissipate until 9am. But now its a little easier and the prospect of some CSOM coffee awaiting me helps too.

Tuesday mornings I can't work in the office because my computer is in use for accounting, so I don't even feel the slightest bit of guilt for sitting in on devotions, worship and prayer with the students. Its one of the most amazing things about the school- beginning almost every day with worship.

Coffee. Two little cream thingys. Three Splenda. Stir it up. Perfection. Somehow I always get the lid on wrong though, because 9.5 times out of 10 I spill on myself. I've begun to anticipate it. But that coffee is very good. (One of the students from last year visited this morning and he said that while John Bunyan is said to have bled the Bible if he was cut, if you cut a School of Ministry student they bleed coffee. It goes for staff too, I'm afraid.)

Adam, our director, teaches New Testament on Tuesdays. Love it. I just sit in the back and soak it in.

Then around 9:15 or a little after I take my little cup of coffee (by the way, has anyone seen my HUGE Corinthian looking mug? Its still missing, sadly...) and walk back up the gravel hill to the church. While making that trek back and forth in the gravel is a little hazardous in heels, I generally make it in one piece. I snag my guitar from the office and head up the stairs to the very quiet, very peaceful sanctuary.

The grand piano sits alone on the stage, black and gleaming. I tune my guitar and spend time getting ready to lead worship for the Women's Bible Study. Which should be translated: I get to spend half an hour singing at the top of my lungs, playing a beautiful piano or my little concert guitar in a sanctuary that echoes and makes me feel like God is just right there. Its probably my favorite part of my favorite day.

Leading worship for the women's bible study is a sweet time; I wonder sometimes if Ryan, our church worship leader, feels- on a much larger scale- the way I do Tuesday mornings. Everyone knows him, but that doesn't guarantee he knows them. These lovely women are not people I get to interact with very often, but every Tuesday I try to help usher them into God's throne room. Heavy job. Delightful job. And then somehow they know me but I don't know them... its quite amusing when people stop me in the bathroom, knowing my name and expressing they love our worship times, and I don't know their names. Something for me to work on. :)

Back to sit in for the rest of lectures or to do other fun things, and then comes the 2nd favorite time of Tuesdays-- lunch with the students and staff! An amazing couple make us meals, sometimes switching off with other volunteers... there has not been one week I haven't enjoyed Tuesday lunches, and I'm a picky eater! We all sit around this lopsided, lumpy collection of tables, arranged just so to utilize the space we have, and laugh and talk and eat till we want to burst. Sharing a meal is a great way to get to know people. I look forward to it every week.

Sometimes if we don't get so enthralled in our Tuesday lunches we try for a staff meeting, but then I head to the District till 6, delving into the crazy world of scheduling, board support, and complaint calls. I love the people I work with- today my boss called the three of us who sit closest (and talk throughout the entire day, even at inopportune times) The Trifecta. :) I always feel so confident and trusted and worthwhile at my job. Validated and able to validate. Its the best of both worlds to be in a spiritual bubble in the morning and then get a chance to shine in the world in the afternoon.

Most Tuesdays I leave work for a voice lesson, which I do only for myself. I love to sing. I love how it makes me feel, the challenge of using an intangible instrument. It pretty much caps of the best of my favorite day to spend time singing, even when I feel like I just can't conquer what I'm working on no matter how hard I try to perfect it. (Trying to get resonating power in my transitional range is NOT easy. Thus poor Voice Teacher Dan has heard "On My Own" from Les Miserables way too many times!)

And many Tuesdays end at my dad's restaurant, either by myself or with Michelle, eating yummy food, visiting with the staff and feeling a general air of contentment. Unless Michelle or I are venting... then there's less contentment, but still the same amount of enjoyment in being there.

Most of you could care less about my Tuesday-schedule-run-down, but I was realizing today as I walked up the stairs to the sanctuary with my guitar how blessed I feel. Blessing is blessing whether you feel it or not, but it is oh so precious to feel it.

Everyone has something that makes them feel content. A favorite day. A favorite activity. A favorite book or music or tradition. Don't lose those things. Life pushes people around. Its okay to push back, to revel in the moments, to chose to delight where you are. Do I always love tramping up and down the gravel hill in heels on Tuesdays in the rain? No. (I could wear boots, I guess.) But there's a reward-- that empty sanctuary.

Today Adam said something at the end of his class that reminded me of something missionary and martyr Jim Eliot communicated: Wherever you are, be all there. I took out my everything-journal and wrote it down for today, underlining massively.

I'm an anticipatory person, always looking for the next thing. Longing for dreams to be fulfilled. But Tuesdays remind me that what I have now is just as important as what I'll have next. I won't always have Favorite Tuesdays, because life will change. But while I do have Favorite Tuesdays I pray that I'll be all in them; by that I really mean that I will be "all in" this season of my life, which my Favorite Tuesdays represent.

This Tuesday evening is a special one that is much needed. I am now at home in my sweats, having eaten a warm meal, and I refuse to leave my house for any reason but an emergency. I'm worn out! But so blessed.

Wherever you are, be all there!! Have a blessed evening!

Another Blog to Follow!

2009-11-02T22:04:00.000-08:00

Little Sister is blogging/vlogging. Love it! Check it out here and follow her!

http://sarahchristinenelson.blogspot.com

#100

2009-11-01T22:51:00.001-08:00

I cannot believe I haven't written since the 18th.

Today is November 1st and the 100th post on my blog.

And I don't have a whole lot to say. :)

Let's see, the last two weeks have been interesting. I wouldn't advise myself to ever skip a massage therapy appointment ever again because two weeks without a massage= TORTURE. Its so nice to feel better but when I feel worse it feels extra worse. But that's hopefully all behind as I got back into her office on Friday and have another appointment on Wednesday. I haven't even had to take Tylenol for two days. WOO HOO

With the pain factor being so huge the living factor kind of diminished quite a bit. I reverted into my little introverted hole, mostly reading huge history books, laying in bed, watching TV and drinking lots of caffeine.

But now I'm better. This weekend has been tremendous fun. Thursday was a hectic day at work for me and then Haley contacted me with some hard stuff she was going through, so I decided that it simply was necessary to make a quickie overnight visit to her.

Note to self: Never stay on the farm again with only Haley. Blake was hunting, we were alone and it was SCARY. Not to mention that we couldn't tell which ammo went in which gun in the gun safe... so we decided to arm ourselves with candle sticks and lamps instead. Then after feeling gloriously refreshed (despite ensuing headache) I drove home in the early hours of the morning and then capped off my day with some dinner with Michelle and a movie with Brandon. Three best friends all in 48 hours time... FABULOUS.

And since I wasn't feeling decidedly social on Halloween, Michelle and I went to the symphony. Mozart and Beethoven. I almost cried. If you've never heard Beethoven's Fifth Symphony in person, live, DO IT. Its unforgettable. I had to take my ring off because I was clapping so hard I was hurting myself. (Bran, do not laugh.)

I'm realizing these days that I'm gradually coming into my own. I used to feel like I was pretending to be an adult. But now I'm beginning to see that I am an adult and its okay. I'm sure in most ways I'll always feel 18, but at least I don't feel like a charlatan parading around in an adult world.

November, November here you are... what will you bring us? (Besides the cold which I am already complaining about. If it wasn't so beautiful here I could very well leave. But I won't. It's too beautiful.)

Off to sleep before conquering Monday!

Yesterday I Needed a Little Protein

2009-10-18T13:33:00.001-07:00

Yesterday I fell in a hole.

Its true.

It all started after I got off the phone with Haley. I accidentallyeft my headlights on when I went inside the house, and came out an hour and a half later to find that my car was dead.

Brodie, my sweet German Shepherd/Great Pyrenees/Stupidest-Dog-Since-Marley mix, and his ever constant companion (my sister's dog, Fiona) were going to come with me on an errand. The backseat folds down and they always perch happily back there while I drive.

They scampered around the yard and then launched themselves into the backseat. Well, Fiona is a little chubby, so she kind of slowly climbed. I call her Little Fatty sometimes. But she's just so cute! I sat down in my seat, turned the key, and... nothing.

I've become quite adept at jumping my car because I'm the kind of absentminded ditz that accidentally leaves my lights on. Sometimes I even rapidly charge that car battery in a rainstorm. (See here for THAT story.... http://aboveimagination.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-rocky-moment.html) After quite a harrowing attempt at jumping my battery with another car (whose hood WOULD NOT OPEN) I just gave up. I called Michelle. No answer. I called again. Still no answer. I gave up further and called my parents. How I love my parents, who often have to come to my rescue...

Who were at Costco in another town.

I was practically crying by this point. Just out of frustration, of course. The dogs were still sitting in the backseat, their hot doggie breath steaming up my windows. Fiona is a princess and promptly resides in my seat if I am not in the car. So muddy paws and fogged up windows were adding to my increasing level of frustration. So I let them out of the car to play while I finagled with the cars.

After practically begging my mother to come save me and her assurance they would come when they could, I decided to tromp all of us back inside.

Brodie had other ideas.

Off he went, racing throughout the neighborhood as if he owned the place. He's known to do this, but it REALLY bothers my neighbors to the left. They have a dog too, and it upsets their pup, so off I went after him. Wearing high heeled boots and Fiona trailing behind me, obedient as always.

Brodie is as stubborn as they come. And after everything with the car, I was at my wits end and totally angry. As I'm tromping across the neighbor's yard to try to capture my escapee, the neighbors DROVE UP in their van, glaring at me from behind the windshield. I grimace-smiled, waved and mouthed "sorry." Didn't seem to do any good.

At least I got Brodie pointed back in the direction of home, so he launched himself back through the juniper trees that separate the yards and hauled his little doggie bum all over creation in the opposite direction.

One must understand that I live out in the woods. There are no little white picket fences, primp little sidewalks and whatnot. Its all jumbled up, with wide grassy spaces, tight forested areas, gravel driveways that double as "roads"... which means that Brodie can go as far as he wants and not run into any boundaries. I recognize the boundaries of course, the other yards and other properties... but I'm human.

It was futile to chase him still wearing those boots, so I stomped my way inside, changed into my running shoes, rolled up my jeans, and tromped back out. If only he could know how angry I was he may have come quaking back in penance. He was having a party and boy can he run fast when he's having fun.

I apologetically wandered through the ivy/pine needle/poison oak covered ground in one neighbors backyard, then cut across a grassy field to find myself on another gravel "road", hollering Brodie's name.

Here he comes, from two houses over (which is like 1/4 mile in my neck of the woods), his tongue lolling and his little paws skimming through the grass. If dogs could smile, he would've been smiling, not knowing the wrath that was about to fall.

He came to me and then realizing the seething frustration in my eyes he tried to figure out a way to get around me, away from me! Sadly for him I cornered him against a fence and was stomping toward him when all of a sudden...

My feet went out from under me and I was in a hole. I twisted my bad ankle (which I injured severely dancing in 2008), got mud and rain water all over my bum and crunched my watch.

That dog was saved only the grace of God. I was so angry and my ankle was smarting so badly that I just started crying. Up I struggled out of the hole and slowly hauled him home, limping and scolding him severely the whole way.

There were two little voices in my head, like those Shoulder-Angels from The Emperor's New Groove. One was the Dog Whisperer, Cesar M., who was telling me that dogs are not people and they don't respond to violence. He didn't understand that I had just hurt myself and that the world is not his playground. He knew I was angry but my lecture wasn't making any difference.

The other voice was just telling me to hang him by his collar.

Praise the Lord that the little devil-angel didn't win, but its amazing how quickly anger surfaces and can cause trouble! I remember my pastor, Rob, saying once that there was nothing that made him as angry as quickly as their little dog, Shiloh. How I understand...

Then along with feeling angry, in pain, damp and out of breath I also felt guilty.

When I finally had limped inside, I sat on the floor with Brodie cuddling for a few minutes, mostly to soothe my own conscience, because I know dogs don't respond to human affection in the same manner, but it still made me feel better.

Anger isn't something that I find myself dealing with often-- it just doesn't seem to be as prevalent a struggle for me as disbelief, or lying, or judging others. But boy-oh-boy, Brodie Dog can bring it out in me in a flash, and how unattractive rage can be, right?

I'm sad that I became so angry and it only caused me the real damage, but thankfully I got over it quickly. The funny thing is that Brodie got over it even more quickly-- that's what I love about dogs. They have such loyal affection and such short memory-spans.

Michelle's mom is a great example of patience. Her little granddaughter was going wild the other day and she patiently deduced that Little One was in need of protein. Little One mimicked "Need protein." That's precisely what I decided I needed at the moment. I ate some protein and cheese to calm myself, iced the ankle, the car got jumped and the rest of my day went on fine.

However, my ankle still aches like crazy. :) What a life...

SuperNova, Black Hole Love

2009-10-17T14:09:00.000-07:00

Haley and I just got in a fight.

See the thing is, that actually says a lot about my relationship with her and how much it means to me.

I don't fight with people very often. I get my feelings hurt, I get wounded, I pout even. But RARELY do I just get into it with someone.

Because for the most part I don't trust that people love me enough to fight with them. I'm afraid that I'll say something honest that will not jive with how they view me and then suddenly they won't love me anymore. I swear that's part of the reason I don't ever see myself getting married because I don't know that I could ever trust someone so much that I could just be COMPLETELY honest and believe that they would still love me. Its something precious that Haley and Blake have together, and Sarah and Ian as well...

But back to my fight with Haley. She is the only person on the PLANET who is not physically related to me that I would let talk to me the way she does and still stay on the phone anyway. She is a dramatic, explosive personality (a SuperNova), and I am a dramatic, implosive personality (a Black Hole.) Both dramatic, but with extremely different results.

We promptly worked through our little issue, both realizing that it was emotions and fear that drove us to our immediate reactions. But I told her that she was the only person whom I would have even stuck around long enough with to figure that out. With anyone else my walls would've been up so fast I wouldn't have even seen them fly up.

Its a treasure to me.

And after spending the morning with a dear woman in my life talking about the kind of love GOD has for me, specifically me and her and individuals, not just the whole, I find it amusing that I had a prompt picture of real, deep down, die-for-you, yell at you and still love you kind of LOVE.

I wouldn't have made it without Haley in my life. She has been my gut-wrenching, honest, real to the core, humble, yell at, curse at, RAW best friend.

But I'm realizing that GOD wants to be that in my life too. He loves me far more than Haley ever could.

I just don't GET that. I don't bring anything to His life that I can see. I don't have anything that He should want. I kind of understand Haley sort-of; our relationship is reciprocal. We both need each other.

But God doesn't need me. So why would I expect that if I mess up, or yell, or misunderstand Him or just plain get angry that He would still love me??????

It all comes down to a trust issue. My biggest issue, isn't it? Trust. Trust. Trust. I don't trust.

Yet, I'm LEARNING.

I won't pretend and say that since that moment I told the Lord I didn't trust Him that everything has been peachy-keen and that He fixed it all.

He's not that way. He is slowly, piece by piece by piece wooing me with love and His trustworthiness.

The truth is the truth regardless of how we perceive it. But when we perceive it correctly it changes things dramatically.

The truth is that Haley loves me no matter what and won't ever not love me. (Double negative, I know, but it was the best way to express it.) She is an example of God's love to me. The truth is He loves me no matter what and won't ever not love me.

I pray earnestly for the day that I perceive that correctly, that I grasp His character fully enough to know that if HE was on the other end of that telephone that the result would be the same as it was with Haley.

Honesty. Genuineness. Deep love. Truth. Reality.

Kristen said something profound to me this morning when we were meeting-- she said that God doesn't want me to be fake to others, nor does He want me to be fake within myself! He doesn't want me to think I love Him and not really love Him. That's why I'm so thankful He's taking me through this process of LOVE.

I wonder where it will take us next!? :)

And as for my little SuperNova Haley and I, we ended the conversation laughing and trying to figure out what we would do without each other. I have NO idea. Praise the Lord that for now I don't have to figure that out and I pray I never do. :)

Happy Weekend!

What's So Great About Grace?

2009-10-13T19:28:00.000-07:00

Imagine yourself in early 16th century, medieval, backwoods "Germany." (It was the Holy Roman Empire back then, but saying that all the time confuses most people. :) )

You're scared of everything. Scared of sickness, of poverty, of your monarch perhaps. Scared of the woods, scared of not being pious enough, scared of demons and the supernatural. Scared that you won't be able to make it out of purgatory and avoid hell.

And most of all, scared of an avenging, angry, wrathful God.

This was the spiritual world into which Martin Luther was born in 1483. A world of fear, not only of life, but the afterlife.

Very well-educated and on the way to becoming a lawyer, Martin Luther had a near-death experience and during that experience promised to become a monk if he was saved from a fatal lightning storm.

Feeling coerced, as he put it, into becoming a monk, Martin Luther nevertheless had a passionate devotion to pursuing God, specifically, being at peace with God.

His whole experience of God for his whole life was one of fear and trembling. We're not talking a healthy fear and trembling, we're talking a wake-you-in-the-night terror. He worked and worked and worked to be holy enough. Whatever it would take for Luther to be reconciled to God was what he was prepared to do.

But he was a wise man. An educated man. He knew Greek, Latin, rhetoric, and was very pious. He could not reconcile what he knew to be true: there is no absolution without confession, but he could not remember every sin. Not only that, but he knew that even if he could confess every sin, his entire man was wretched and separated from a holy God.

It was in this depressed and terrified state that a devoted Luther began to study the Scriptures. He studied them in order to become the Th.D. at the college in Wittenberg, but his study ended up changing him more than he could have ever imagined.

Instead of finding only an angry and avenging Christ the Judge, he found a despondent Christ on the cross (in Psalm 22), a suffering Christ. Jesus has experienced desolation of the soul far beyond what Luther knew he himself had experienced, and in this Luther found hope. For if Jesus had been decimated and brought low then He was able to understand Luther's own soul. And if Jesus had been brought low and desolate Luther found that he too could bear such a burden for the sake of Christ. At the cross he found a Jesus who suffered and loved, not just avenged and judged.

And in Galatians and Romans Luther wrestled with the Apostle Paul, his mentor-in-spirit. Luther was very like Paul- the most pious of his brethren, well versed in Greek and Latin, respected and knowledgeable. In wrestling through Paul's writings Luther realized, experientially realized, that God's justice and His forgiveness were not at odds with one another. God had made a way that His justice and His love could be entirely true at the same time. Justification by faith-- not by works-- became the standard blowing above the army of Luther's heart.

For if this Christ could be related to and this just God be approached without terror, then what place did indulgences, false penance, and good works have for the Christian?

GRACE transformed Luther's life from one of turbulent spiritual depression and alienation from an angry God to a life that was immovable, unshakable in truth. Luther never set out to change the world. He was just trying to be a good pastor, a good shepherd over those under him. But he realized that grace, justification by faith and not works, was worth whatever turbulence would come from his declarations.

After almost exactly 492 years since Luther posted his Ninety-Five Theses (Oct. 31, 1517) I got to sit in a class of students this morning who were studying through Galatians and hear Adam, CSOM director, proclaim the truths of justification. I sang with these people of the greatness of God. I marveled that, because of a man who just wanted to be at peace with God and wouldn't sacrifice that pursuit for anything, I was able to share with them what was so 'great' about grace.

O that I would never forget the deep, deep love of Jesus.

Toasters

2009-10-12T22:28:00.000-07:00

So, here's a good one for you.

My mom pays me to clean her house. I decided it would be great if I cleaned the dishes in the sink, ran the dishwasher, and cleaned up the counter where the toaster and espresso machine sit.

That little toaster has seen better days, and I can't remember the last time it was dumped of crumbs.

So, making SURE it was unplugged, I gently overturned it in the sink. The THOUSANDS of crumbs came tumbling out. I didn't have enough time to finish wiping it all down, etc., before I had to leave. Once again I ensured it was not plugged in and left it to be dealt with later.

While working on my Martin Luther notes and watching Miss Potter I got a text message.

"Honey, leaving an electric toaster in the sink isn't a good idea. The dishwasher dumps water in that side when it rinses. Don't use toaster."- Mom

Peels of laughter and blushes of shame on my end.

Unbelievable.

I had completely forgotten that the dishwasher dumps its excess water into the side of the sink.

Granted, maybe it wasn't the prime place to leave the toaster, but I was sure it was unplugged. :)

Come to find out: "There's a little latch on the toaster bottom that opens up so u can dump crumbs..."- Mom

Wow. A latch. Whodathunkit?

Another day in the domestication of Kaela. What a journey it is....

(That's a lot of crumbs!)

The Worst Version of Ourselves

2009-10-12T00:26:00.001-07:00

Its ridiculous that I'm up this late, not feeling well, with Monday looming before me. In fact, its already here...

Today I was very thoughtful. Not feeling well, and apparently looking it. One of the only people I saw today, my friend Chris, made me quite aware that I didn't look well and then promptly asked that if I got the swine flu that I give it to him. He wants to be immune. I told him that was fairly stupid and that he was not allowed to get the swine flu or say that I was getting it. I don't have time!

Blah.

But today I was a little step further in my step toward understanding that God loves me.

The other night in the car I asked for Michelle's perspective on a situation I had just learned about. My heart was to pray for someone but I didn't know how-- but I knew she would have the unique perspective I needed to help me.

Her answer surprised me. She told me to pray that the person would know that God loved them, them as a person, that they were cherished and loved. It seemed so much different than what I would've prayed for this person.

She was reminding me that the Word says that Christ loved us and died for us BECAUSE we were sinners. He didn't die for us because we were perfect. Her words struck me to the core. "When we were the worst versions of ourselves" was how she put it. He loved us when we were the worst versions of ourselves.

We were talking about someone else, but her words have been ringing in my ears the last few days. Yesterday I felt like I was the worst version of myself and have been struggling all day internally. I ventured out to the woods with the dogs, my favorite place to think, and paused by the pond. There is this MASSIVE orange-leaved tree that towers above the others around the pond, and reflects beautifully in the dirty water.

I stood on the little dock and looked at that tree and was struggling, wanting to pray, not just for myself, but for others too, and felt like I couldn't.

But those words, that Jesus died for us when we were the worst versions of ourselves, can't let me go.

I will always mess up. I'm not perfect yet; that's the work Jesus is doing in me, that the Spirit aids me in. Maybe I should be thankful for how much my sin bothers me, when I could be much more calloused to it. I know in my head that forgiveness is immediate upon repentance and that Christ would much rather us be intimate with Him than to stay away in guilt.

But I still feel that way. Like I don't deserve to pray or be spiritual when I have fallen and been cruel to the One I love.

Every little day though a new step...

In a few days I'm teaching on the life of Martin Luther. I've entitled my little talk "Whats the Big Deal about Grace?" The words and concepts are still coming together, but the story of his life is what made grace such a big deal to him. It was that he did not serve an angry God who was never appeased, but he could love and serve a suffering Servant who had reconciled His justice with His mercy on the cross. It was a treasure to Martin that I can't begin to fathom... and I want grace to redefine my soul the way it did for him.

While I was still dead in sin Christ died for me. Oh that I would let Him show me that kind of love in my life and not hide behind my fear or bad theology.

Taylor the Latte Boy

2009-10-07T19:10:00.000-07:00

"Taylor the Latte Boy"

Kristin Chenoweth

Incredible voice, hysterical song...

Just made my night...

PLEASE WATCH :) Especially if you love coffee.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zXS0nEOx_20&feature=related

The Baja Fresh Epiphany

2009-10-06T21:12:00.001-07:00

I'm such a moron.

I give other people advice all the time that they need to do what they are PASSIONATE about.

But then my little mind gets whirling about what is practical.

But you know what makes me passionate?

HISTORY.

Nerd though I may be, I come ALIVE when I talk about this stuff. I love history just because it exists. I don't have to get anything out of it, no neat anecdote, no amusing story. I don't want it to tell me something about who I should be or to inform our world. It is just fascinating as it sits there, events and people glued together in immovable stasis.

I have been long considering going back to school to get my Master's Degree in Teaching.

And I DO want to teach.

But I don't want my master's degree in Teaching.

I want to study history. I'd be happy in my little pool of history for the rest of my life. I'm just short of breath and tingly thinking about it. Its the most impractical thing ever, to just keep studying and teaching and writing about history for the rest of my life. But that's what I want to do.

When Michelle and I were driving the other day I went off on Martin Luther (whom I have been detailed-ly studying in preparation for sharing on his life at CSOM next week). She pointed out that "talking history" is the trigger that makes me come alive. I so often use the phrase, but do I ever apply it to myself?

Rarely.

Michelle was right. Its the hot-button for my life. History and theology and ministry-- I could be happy for my entire little life on earth doing those three things.

Tonight I had this strange epiphany while leaving Baja Fresh (after eating their beans and rice plate - yum- for the second night in a row). What a weird place to have an epiphany. But I did, right there, clutching my drink cup and teetering on my high heels. I don't want my Master's in Teaching. Its not what makes me happy. Teaching makes me happy, yes, but its teaching about HISTORY (and the Lord) that make me thrive.

I called Haley immediately, having already spouted this epiphany to my mother, who promptly said, "Okay," in that "do what makes you happy; we're with you" tone.

Haley also promptly told me that I need to do what I'm passionate and leave it to the LORD to figure out the practicality. She reminded me that the Lord gives people passion and then the choice whether to do something about it or not. We aren't punished or disappoint Him when we don't utilize that passion, but OH what HE can do when we steward that passion!

Mike Rozell shared something similar on Sunday during his presentation.

Hmmm.... trying to tell me something, Lord?
_________________________________________

This is all still conjecture and who knows what will really happen. Maybe God will make it very clear that He wants me to pursue a MA in Teaching sometime in the future. Or maybe not.

But I know that no matter what I have to pursue what I'm passionate about because the Spirit of God drives us through the passions He has granted, more often than not.

Well now, that's quite the proclamation isn't it?! Hahahahahaha. Bringing it back to reality... and off to run, which I have been neglecting for several days.

The Potter's Love

2009-10-05T13:53:00.000-07:00

Last night I went to church to see this wonderful ministry called Potter's Field. Its too much to describe what they do here, so if you want to see, check it out at: http://www.pottersfield.org/

Mike and Pam Rozell are a neat couple and I briefly met them last year when they came to Calvary to share with us. So I knew what to expect last night but I wasn't expecting the emotional response I had to what they presented, specifically what Mike presented.

Mike is a potter, a very gifted potter. He literally throws pots on stage while sharing his testimony, his passion and the message of Jeremiah 18, where God speaks about Israel being like clay in the Potter's hand. Its very impressive what can be done with a lump of clay in a skilled hand. I could NEVER do what Mike does, but that's okay, because I'm definitely not called to be a potter. He is, however, called to that as a way to be used in God's kingdom.

One of the things that Mike shared at the end of last night's message was this: "The potter expresses himself through the clay. God expresses who He is through us. And who He is is Love."

That really struck me last night. I'm an expression of who God is, a little reflection of Him. He fashioned and formed me just the way I am to express something about who He is. A tool in His hands, a reflection of His love, an ambassador of His kingdom. Those are weighty things, but shouldn't be heavy things because its not out of duty that God made me. It was out of love. He designed my inward and outward form to reflect something special about Him. If I am not completely who He has made me to be-- history nerd, song bird, Post-It note queen-- then I am missing out tremendously.

It was just one more chink in the armor for me. I knelt down in the front of the church last night as Pam Rozell sang "I Need Thee Every Hour", and finally verbally admitted to the Lord that I don't trust Him, I don't feel important to Him, and I don't feel loved. I've said it here in writing, and I've said to others verbally, but realized it was the first time I had told the Lord how I felt. Not that He doesn't know, and its not that He hasn't been wooing me gently anyway, but it just felt good to tell Him how I felt and know that it was safe to say it. I need Him every hour.

I can tell God is slowly, piece by piece repairing my little broken heart. The trust I placed in Him wasn't really broken when Sara died-- it was just that my perception of His trustworthiness had been incorrect. But I love that even though I don't trust Him or believe He loves me because of lack and fault in my own heart and perception He STILL binds up and heals anyway.

I need Thee, Oh I need Thee, Every hour I need Thee, Oh bless me now my Savior, I come to Thee.

A Divine Chuckle

2009-10-04T15:24:00.000-07:00

One of the hardest struggles is my thought life. I'm sure its that way for many Christians. Its pretty clear that Jesus considered heart sin and outward sin exactly the same, and I often convince myself that its just not true. That it couldn't possibly be as bad to think something as to do it.

But, just because I struggle doesn't mean that I get to wish away the reality of sin.

It is usually when I relax that my mind starts swirling with all sorts of things-- fear, anxiety, daydreaming, scheming... its something about being physically still that makes my mind amp up to the -nth degree!

Professional weekly massages have been a GOD-SEND for my headaches the last two months. I wonder how I ever survived without them. Medication use has gone down significantly and I'd say my stress level has as well. I live for those Friday mornings! Last Friday morning I was lying there, really relaxed, and my mind started swirling away from me.

A verse from a sermon that I had just listened to swirled along with everything else... "take captive every thought..." (2 Cor. 10:5). I complied, steeling my mind to be trained and focused on the good.

Well, that lasted about 5 seconds. There went my mind again.

Once again there was that whisper. "Take every thought captive..."

Complied. For about a minute.

The third time, I said inwardly to the Lord, "Jesus, this is hard." (Read: as if I was three years old.)

And I SWEAR He chuckled at me!!!! Do you know that feeling when you have heard the Lord's voice so intimately? That was absolutely the case here-- I know in my absolute deepest soul that Jesus laughed at me!

And who wouldn't? I realized I sounded like a petulant little kid.

And instead of anger, I received a joyous response from the One whom I owe all allegiance. A chuckle.

Of course its hard! If it wasn't hard, it wouldn't be definitively said in Scripture that we need to "we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ."

I was reminded that when we are under grace that it IS the effort that counts. Jesus loves me, wholeheartedly, whether I ever did anything to please Him. But even just the effort to please Him (even if I immediately began complaining) brought Him joy.

I want that to be my motivation in life-- to bring Joy to His heart...

Little-People-Watching

2009-10-01T22:00:00.001-07:00

It was suggested, yesterday, when I was feeling quite bored with my evening that I should do some people-watching and blog about it.

I realized that I don't take time to people watch anymore! I see people all day... but I don't really watch them.

But tonight I did take some time to people-watch... some little people anyway.

Its such a beautiful fall in Oregon. The sky has been this UNBELIEVABLE azure blue full of dark clouds. The air is crisp and clean, and even though the Oregon-rain has begun, its still intermittent.

Tonight I babysat again. The kiddos' parents were running out the door when I got there, so I started dinner and we just did life. I made pasta. Little Boy was racing around the kitchen on his little trike, with a knight helmet on. Littler Girl was doing her spelling homework at the island... I read her words to her, she would spell them, and then everyone she spelled wrong she wrote down 10 times. There were a lot of words she was writing down!

Oldest Girl was regaling me with stories about cake, and parties, and her class's "mortal enemy". (Some kid who is causing everyone a lot of trouble). You'd have thought it was the end of the world.

Little Boy decided to play "delivery man" and went to the back door and then knocked as loud as he could. When I "answered" the door, he lowered his voice as deep as his little three-year old voice would go and I thought I would cry from laughing. But he was so serious that I played along... turns out there was an imaginary toy factory in the package he was delivering to me. Who knew that one could fit a toy factory into a tiny little, invisible box?

After we ate dinner (which was a little bit of a struggle for Little Boy, though he was greatly stirred on by the promise of cake for dessert) the kids bolted for the backyard. Littler Girl still had some spelling to finish, but she was anxious to be outside in the crisp air. Who could blame her? It was gorgeous evening.

So I sat on the patio and she did the last of her spelling between running to the trampoline and looking for frogs with her siblings. Little Boy and Oldest Girl bounced on the trampoline, laughing loud and clear like only kids can.

Sitting on that patio I was so content watching them jump up and down, listening to Littler Girl think out loud about how to spell "their", "about" and "many". I wondered if I ever had a hard time spelling those words-- I know I must've.

I can't wait to be a mom. The older I've gotten the more I've relaxed. Being a mom is something I cannot fathom, truly, and I know that. Everyone thinks they know what they'll do when they become a parent, but really, I'm sure I have no idea.

But children..........

There is something so warm and innocent about them. Full of life, simplicity and joy. They don't need to be upbraided or rigidly handled. They need discipline and structure. But I always got the former and the latter confused. Since "growing up" myself, the last few years, I enjoy children in a way I never have before. They have such insight, kindness, love and most of the time, utter sincerity.

I thought I would just explode with joy when Little Boy heard me come in the door tonight and I heard "KA-AE-AE-AEL-A!" screamed (top of the lungs kind of scream) as he barrelled down the hallway at me. Those little things are priceless.

Between my god daughters and these little kiddos I am constantly stunned at how precious the next generations are.

I FEEL meant to be a mom someday. I don't know if that will happen. I trust God.

But those on-the-back-patio-watching-frogs-and-jumping-children moments are sure something.

Nationalism, Symbolism and Other Thoughts

2009-09-28T10:04:00.000-07:00

Its 10:00 am... this morning person thing is starting to get a little easier. Only just a little easier. Today I have already been to CSOM morning devotions and the intro to Doctrines class, drank a cup of coffee and ate some toast, checked my work email, checked several things off my CSOM to-do list, checked Facebook, and am now sitting at home writing while listening to my Pandora "Colbie Callait" radio station (thank you Bethany Fegles for the reminder of what a great site that is!) By 12pm I hope to have accomplished some more CSOM stuff, get dressed for work at the District (because I don't think that my CSOM 08-09 sweatshirt, jeans and a ponytail is really going to fly at the office like it did at devotions) and get on with my afternoon.

Morning has its benefits, surely. Increased productivity for one. Brodie sure likes to get up early so he can get a good start on the day- this morning his first activity was to chase the cat. Fabulous. But right now I'm curled up on my bed and he's right beside me, like he always is. If I am on my bed he almost always is too, on his corner on his blanket. Such a cutie.

_______________________________________________

I realized yesterday that my post sounded kind of self-righteous. Well, maybe not self-righteous, but just overly "enlightened". I think everything I wrote is true, but the other piece I neglected to write about is how much we need symbols, heroes and stories. Just because they boil down to a few common themes doesn't negate that the images and stories we produce are less important.

When the idea of nationalism was on the rise in 19th century Europe the importance of symbolism and ideals played an important part of the solidification of a populace around a "nation-state" that wouldn't generally exist except for outside pressures. The push for nationalism is only just an example of the need for symbolism and stories in civilization.

The early Greeks had their stories about the gods on Mt. Olympus... they organized the world through their mythology and beliefs. Ancient China organized life through their understanding of earth's elements and the interplay between the temporal and the otherworldly. The Roman Empire, for example, had the gladiatorial games.

And today we still do the same thing. We organize our life and focus by having agreed upon sets of symbols, images and even propaganda. The entertainment world in the western world is part of that system. So are our professional sports.

Two Saturdays ago I was in Seattle with Michelle, visiting some of her family and we all went to a Seattle Marines vs. New York Yankees baseball game. It was my first professional sports game ever and despite the fact I don't like crowds or cities, it was exciting!

The dramatic music swelled as the Mariner players' bios were splashed across the screen and their theatrical poses for the camera were played for the massive and loud crowd of spectators.

As I watched the game part of me was just enjoying it and the other part of me was already analyzing away. (When I shared my thoughts with my mom later she just rolled her eyes and said something along the lines of, "It figures that's what you would be thinking about.")

What I was pondering while I watched the game was that for no reason other than the fact that these men were very talented baseball players there were HUNDREDS of people in a massive stadium, come to observe. Baseball is an American national past-time.

But who SAID it was supposed to be a national past-time? I don't think anyone sat down one day and decided. But the American society collectively agreed and continues to agree that professional baseball (and football, etc) represents something of who we are as a nation and a culture.

Some might argue that since even national identity is a manufactured (complicated, but still manufactured) combination of symbolism, idealism and agreed upon concepts that it lacks any truth.

But I argue that organizing our lives by those agreed upon symbols, ideals, concepts and expressions of art and life is valid in that it helps us engage and be productive in our world.

Just because I knew it my head that those baseball players were just men who could swing a bat and catch a ball (my apologies to those who know much more about baseball and are yelling at the screen now) and have no real super-human element to them it didn't stop me from getting excited when the music played. I entered into the celebration of manufactured excitement and symbolism on purpose.

Its impossible to live in an analytical world all the time. Our emotions need to be engaged in life as well. That's why every single time I say the Pledge of Allegiance at our Board Meetings my heart stills and I carefully say each word. The reality is that it is just a flag hanging on a pole with some stripes and stars. But the SYMBOLISM carries the weight in that situation. It represents something larger than my individuality, an agreed upon concept that all Americans recognize as important.

Art, symbols, ideals-- its important to engage in them as a way of living a full life. Just because I recognize that the core templates of the entertainment and literary world are pretty basic doesn't mean that when a story touches my heart that I don't engage that emotion. We are not linear creations. Humans FEEL. Which makes us like our Creator and separates us from all other creation.

Anyway, those are just my thoughts today. Its okay to engage in nationalism, symbolism and idealism when those things fall in line with Scripture and God's heart because it feeds that part of our being which needs to understand, to belong and to organize our world. As a Christian I am blessed to have the solid foundation from which to organize my understanding, but it is okay to get excited at a baseball game, swoon when two characters fall in love, and to get a little choked up every time I hear the national anthem sung.

Our Master StoryTeller

2009-09-27T17:21:00.001-07:00

Last spring I went to a movie with my dad, one of our few one-on-one "dates" that we occasionally try to have. I love, love, love spending time with my dad. Most of the reason I am the way I am is because of my dad, including my interest in reading, tv and movies. We went and saw "Iron Man" and spent a pretty long time afterwards talking about the movie. It was a great movie- I really enjoyed it and so did my dad. It got me to thinking about how I approach thinking about art. My brain doesn't always turn off... Don't get me wrong. I love to lose myself in entertainment sometimes. My weeknight "The Closer" dates with Michelle and character Sanchez in a tight tee-shirt is purely for entertainment sake. :)

However, the analytical part of my brain often switches on and I like to analyze not only the material itself but also what draws us as humans to watch or interact with it. (It all started with my dad using the X-Files as a way to discuss human psychology, science and behavioral patterns. I had the best homeschooling experience ever!)

Humanity has an innate draw to introspection and depiction. Movies, television, theater and music really have very few core elements, if you stop to consider it. Love, good, evil and death. Honestly, really, that's about it. What fascinates me is that we spin stories and compositions that revolve around the same core over and over again. What do we expect to find that is new?

But that's not really the question is it? Finding something new isn't the issue at all. We cannot help but talk about these things. Everything in life boils down to love, death, good and evil-- and almost always, in some fashion- redemption. We cannot get away from those things.

Oscar Wilde said that "Life imitates art far more than art imitates life." I don't believe that. What I do believe is that we see art, particularly the entertaining arts, as an opportunity to put a face, a name, something tangible, to concepts that fuel us but are so intangible.

So we create stories about super heroes, like Iron Man, who are just men but by some miracle, or slime-goo, or spider bite, become more than ordinary, who stand for something good. We create stories of redemption like Twilight, where the protagonist is by nature evil but because of some mysterious grace and will-power redemption is achieved through love. We depict warriors who are tough, impervious, intense, bent on either good or evil. But very rarely do we depict mediocrity and stop there. If mediocrity is depicted it is only so that it can evolve into passion or devolve in to evil.

Give me any story and almost always I belive that one or more of those threads can be found.

The Epic of Gilgamesh: A journey to escape death.
Jane Eyre: Love and redemption from selfish humanity and inflicted pain.
Iron Man: Good triumphing over evil (okay, you could probably name hundreds of those right?)
The Exorcist: (Which I've never watched) Evil. Pure and simple.

Love, good, death, evil and redemption. Sound familiar?

We are HARDWIRED with these themes. Humanity was created in pure goodness, evil entered the world and death became the only sure thing. Love, an unbelievable love, looked at that mess and said "Redemption". Redemption through death to conquer evil and a love that is now even more sure than death. The one thing that no one could escape- death- has now been overcome. Because of Love.

Its pretty incredible. Humanity will always discuss these themes, in countless movies, books, plays and songs. Its okay to do that. Its okay to imagine, to stretch those muscles to envelop the countless possibilities of life, to depict what we wish was true and give a face to that which we wish wasn't true at all.

But for the believer in God, these attempts at organizing our world and viewing its make up should take on a different scope. Art can only reflect life, not create life, even if the life it reflects is skewed or incorrect. But still we have only a few building blocks-- love, good, evil, death and redemption. And we know that the reason we are drawn to those themes is because that is REALLY what life consists of.

The more aware we become as Christians the more we are able to engage our world. The reason five gazillion people watch The Notebook is because something in us LONGS for love-- we were created that way. The reason we watch Band of Brothers and 300 is because the fight for good and love against evil and death is innate to us. We recognize these things because they are the only reality that exists. We add trappings here and there-- names, characters, situations, places, fluff and stuff-- but when it all boils down to it at the end of the day the bottom line is still the same.

God loves us. He is good and that which He created is good. We chose evil and death as a result of that choice, but God's love is too great and He offered redemption when we could not provide it for ourselves...

The greatest love story, battle story, and good versus evil epic that ever was and ever will be. Its not fiction, its truth.

Creation of art to explore life will never cease. I don't think it should. But we should not ignore the fact that in a very real way Christians get to experience REALITY that is better than anything we can make up. In this case, our art only depicts life as a shadow depicts a person.

Come quickly Lord that we may experience You and Your story in a way that will blow away all the dust of human creation. You are the Master Storyteller and I can't wait to see all the subplots you have planned! I'm just as grateful that You've revealed the ending-- and like all my favorites stories it ends in love and redemption.

Divine Inspiration in a Bizarre Location

2009-09-24T17:28:00.000-07:00

Oh my gosh.

Sometimes I am such a nerd.

Today I sat in full classes at CSOM instead of high-tailing my way to the office, where I should've been. Most people, when they leave school and graduate, actually leave school. I keep coming back for more. I just couldn't resist the lure of a lecture on hermeneutics.

Herma-what?

Hermeneutics. Its simply "the art and science of interpretation", and probably one of my FAVORITE subjects ever.

Anyway, the funny thing was I was sitting in the back next to my 'sister' (our single auditing student with whom I am much to tempted to talk to during the class), minding my own business, when suddenly out of nowhere the Lord literally dropped a separate lecture into my mind. It now exists in 5 different pages of the most illegible scrawl. I even wrote up the side of one page to continue a thought... I don't know if I'll ever be able to decipher it again. Hopefully, for the students' sake, I will.

I have wanted to be a teacher almost my entire life, and I pretty much think in "how would I explain this to someone else?" terms all the time. I love how the Lord works, and works with me specifically. Being immersed in hearing about Him and tools that help us know Him has often been the times when He shows me new things or speaks to me... almost always about something unrelated to what is being taught! How funny is that?

Perhaps it is because when I am in that environment my mind is most turned toward Him and my spirit most available to hear from Him. I need to learn how to cultivate that wherever I am. But I have a feeling I'll be writing many a lecture and prepping for classes while Adam teaches and students talk. (Its also my favorite place to grade!)

This week has been an adjustment, to be sure, but I keep internally pinching my soul to make sure this is all really real, that every morning I get to rise and spend the morning doing something I'm so passionate about. It really doesn't feel like a job at all!!!!

This years students are funny, warm, quirky, hard-working and amazing. I can tell already. Last year I was worried- as the 08-09 class was graduating- that no year would ever be as good. I know now that it won't be the same, but it will undoubtedly be amazing. Expect to hear many, many more stories about this crazy CSOM crew and our adventure through the year!

And at the school district God has been blessing me TREMENDOUSLY. I feel so privileged to be a light there and to feel accepted, useful and intentionally placed there for a purpose. My life right now is such an amazing balance of ministering inside the Body and outside to the world. And I didn't have a single thing to do with it! God put it all together and I just live it...

I'm waxing poetic right now, and tomorrow may bring new or reoccurring trials that are tough to deal with. I'm no fool-- I know that while I am always blessed as a believer it doesn't keep me from being challenged. But it is nice, for at least this week, to revel in the refreshment of feeling that I am exactly where I belong-- receiving divine inspiration in sometimes bizarre locations... :)

Nothing Profound

2009-09-23T19:39:00.000-07:00

I don't have enough time to say anything profound, but my heart is rejoicing and over flowing and I've been dying to get on here and write...

However, working out, showering and eating a peanut-butter-and-Nutella sandwich has taken up too much time, and now I have only minutes to relieve this itch to write.

The written word is a POWERFUL thing. Amazing, if you think about it! It transmits and conveys things that should not be transmittable or able to be conveyed. Thoughts, dreams, and the intangible. But somehow shapes put together in just the right manner can suddenly express THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS of things.

I love it. I was reading about the development of cuneiform (early, early writing system) in A History of the Ancient World by Susan Wise Bauer, and was very fascinated with the development of writing, linguistics and communication. (That book, by the way, is electrically consuming. I sat in a rose-print Ikea arm chair for who knows how long this weekend reading it....... You should pick it up.)

So, with my written words, I will convey some very happy things!

1) The Lord miraculously provided a second part-time job for me that fits me to a T. I couldn't be more happy.
2) He is daily showing me how much He loves me, even though every day I have a hard time accepting it.
3) I have taken only 1 pain pill in the last three weeks. THREE WEEKS! That is a miracle. Praise God almighty for massage and craniosacral therapists!
4) Cornerstone School of Ministry began on Monday and my heart is overflowing and just thriving with excitement for what God is going to do in the students this year

This is just a joyful time in my life, and I think I complain so often but hesitate to comment when I am blessed.

So, here, with my words, I state that I feel blessed this week. I know that I am always blessed, but its sure nice to experience the feelings.

Happy Wednesday!

The Things Kids Say...

2009-09-18T00:08:00.000-07:00

Have to go to bed SO much right now, but just had to share this cute story!

My voice coach and I swap services-- he gives me vocal lessons and I watch his kids. They're adorable-- precocious but adorable. Their youngest, a little boy, is three and he is ALL boy.

Except for tonight. It was GORGEOUS evening here in C-town. The sky did not have a cloud in it-- it was bright blue. Little Boy and I had been laying down on the trampoline, looking up through the swingset, and I was recycling old stories about Perry the Pinecone that my dad made up when I was a kid. He liked those.

The two older girls came home not too long after that and we all ended up in the front of the house as the sun was setting. The girls were playing with the neighbor kids; the dad across the street was teaching Biggest Girl how to "wave" (this crazy cool thin, double jointed skateboard), Littler Girl was chasing bugs across the lawn, and Little Boy was using my legs as a jungle gym.

The neighbor girl had a garden snake that they were keeping in a cage at her house, and decided to bring it over to show the kids. The girls thought it was amazing.

But Little Boy, the most rough and tumble of them all, ran straight at me, ducked under both my legs, quivering from between my legs and the chair saying "Don't bring it to me!"

I asked him what was wrong, and he looked up at me with these huge brown eyes, gave a little shiver and said, quite firmly, "Its just... so... SNAKE-Y."

So true, my friends, so true. Sometimes things in life are just, well, so snakey.

Happy Friday (15 minutes into it). I need to pack and get ready for a delightful weekend away, but I just had to share that little ditty to carry me through till later.

An Adventure into the Heart of God's Love

2009-09-15T17:59:00.001-07:00

How often I forget how my heart SOARS when I worship. On Sunday morning I was brought to tears as we closed the church service in worship. Its not that there was hyped-up emotionalism, but the love of God was made so evident to me that morning and the only way I could respond was to lift my hands and sing my heart out to my Creator.

I love music. I love creating music, listening to music, getting lost in music... Most people look at my life and see the organized, multi-tasking administrator. I am really good at bossing people around. :) But hiding underneath that shell is this creative, wildly imaginative, expansive, heart-soaring woman. Given a choice I would spend my entire life singing, playing instruments, writing, reading, dancing, creating, being in relationships, making cupcakes, and having people over to my house. Sometimes I still feel like I'm that little girl twirling in the middle of my front yard, arms wide out to catch the breeze, totally unconcerned with the way I looked. Just basking in the moment.

Worship is probably the only time that I ever feel that way anymore. Its because that's what I was MADE to do. I was made to worship. Humanity was made to worship.

We all worship different things; we cannot help ourselves. Its impossible for us to withhold our affection from everything-- it will be placed somewhere... And I don't fight to keep it where it should be. I become swallowed in my anxiety, my fear, my distrust. I begin to worship even my frailty, because its the biggest thing in my life.

One of my favorite people, our worship leader Ryan, shared a message Sunday morning that was straight from the mouth of God to my heart, about God's love. I sat there on the grass (because our Pastor Rob LOVES to have our services outside as long as is possible!), gripping my sweater, enthralled with how God was ministering to my heart. Ryan shared that how we view God dictates how we relate to Him-- its not just how we think we view Him, but how we honestly see Him that profoundly affects how we worship.

Among the hundreds of tiny barbs piercing my heart was this one truth: It is easier to believe that God loves the world, but it is much harder to believe He loves ME.

Two years ago one of my best friends died in a car accident (Sara) and since that time I have struggled deeply with the following= God didn't answer my prayers to save her, which means that He doesn't answer my prayers, which means that He doesn't really care about me personally and what I long for.

I have never doubted the Love of God for the world or that I fall in that category, but I swear since June 2007 I have never been the same. My relationship with the Lord has largely been mediated through the group, the church, the whole.

I have such a hard time wrapping my head around the thought that God loves ME individually, personally, intimately.

Its time for that to end. I believe that this fall and winter will be an adventure in reacquainting myself with the love of God.

And in that process I will worship my heart out, because I know in my head (and believe that He will show me in my heart) that He does love me. I will sing, I will dance, I will put aside my fear and doubt and delve into the adventure of being in love with God in a way I have not been able to do in quite awhile.

Its scary. Even as I write, I cringe inwardly-- "Do I really want to go there?"

But then I think of myself at 7 years old, twirling in my front yard. I want that again. I want worship of my Jesus to saturate my life, and to finally be able to believe that I am precious to Him.

Listen here for the message Ryan shared and be encouraged in the Love of God: http://www.calvarycorvallis.org/audio/misc/misc482.mp3.

Blessed beloved, in the Lord rejoice-- we are LOVED! Be who you are, because that is how He has made you! Individual, loved, precious, and designed perfectly to worship Him as only you can.

The Wedding

2009-09-13T01:18:00.000-07:00

Beautiful Sarah, walking to join her Prince

And the Prince nervously awaiting his bride

Watching one of the people I love most in all the world marry

her best friend and the love of her life was one of the proudest moments of my life.

I don't know if I'll ever get married, but if I do I pray that my wedding is as full of emotion as Sarah and Ian's was

What God has joined together let not man seperate--- what beautiful words

Emotion was running full-- Sarah dancing with her daddy...

The thing I love about Christ's love is that it gives us a family that does not have to do with blood or location

I will love these girls till the day I die

_____________________________________

Celebration has been in the air this summer, and with this final wedding, I feel things begin to shift and change and I wonder what God has for us all next!

My Favorite Women

2009-09-12T15:37:00.000-07:00

Raw. Honest. Open. Vulnerable.

Oh that I would learn to be a woman who is a REAL person.

This afternoon my favorite brother, Brandon, texted me, wondering if I would like to spend time with him and another friend this afternoon. I demurred with a "Na, thanks though. I have a date. With a book!" I fully intended to spend this afternoon reading. Which I have been, just not reading a book.

Instead I have been reading one of my favorite blogs. It is written by person I don't know, but a lovely woman none the less, who by all accounts seems to be a REAL person. A lovely, honest, vulnerable, real woman who shares her life through her words and photos, and I am encouraged in my very deepest soul.

Sometimes I feel that I have been lied to in my inward parts, that as a woman you can either have Beauty or Realness, but not both.

But slowly, slowly God has been chipping away at that image in my mind, an image for which I cannot find a source, but that is very indelibly pressed on me.

God has been doing this in exposing me to women who are BEAUTIFUL and REAL.

Monique. I have known her intimately for a decade, watching her as a mom with elementary kids all the way till now, when her daughters are my sisters and best friends. She is beautiful, so beautiful, but she has opened her life up to me to see the depths of her soul-- her desires, her struggles. I've cried with her, laughed with her, and told her just the other day that I am so thankful for what she has taught me about communication. She doesn't leave one thing to have the other; I have always said that she is just as beautiful in her pajamas as she is when she's all decked out. Its because she truly cares about people and she has shown me that you don't have to sacrifice beauty for caring.

Haley. Haley is my best friend in the world, this tiny package of spunk with a massive bunch of jet black hair and who looks photogenic in ANYTHING. Since she was in middle school she has been turning heads-- often so sharply that other people get whiplash. She's honestly really stunning. She runs 4 miles a day just because she can and pours her life and soul out to others in a way that I can't describe. She is as real as they come. Beauty doesn't compete with rawness in Haley- she is a firecracker of God's passion and compassion. She is so real! She yells at me on the phone, she tromps through the grass fields to jump on Blake's tractor with him, she totters around in mile-high heels, and she pours her heart out to her middle school students. Her faith has been shattered and shaken and run over with a dump truck, and in that, her relationship with God has become a diamond that has no "Fluff" and all content.

Michelle. Tall, gorgeous, blond, and possibly the most honest, intelligent woman I have ever known. She never ceases to teach me that "knowing thyself" is a way to really know others. Her drive and motivation and sincerity are not at all at odds with her stunning looks. In fact, sometimes those stunning looks and long blond hair come in quite handy when she's on a mission for something. :) Michelle has shown me that depth of character and raw-ness before the Lord our God is a treasure that cannot be measured in any fashion catalogue or Time Magazine. Nevertheless, being beautiful and engaging in femininity, elegance, sophistication is this constantly growing, charming part of her life that brings me such joy-- and motivation.

My mother. I don't think I would appreciate beauty nearly as much as I do if it were not for my mom. I grew up surrounded by the idea of beauty, the encouragement of loveliness. My mom introduced me to Anne of Green Gables, and Victoria magazine, and shaving my legs, and beautiful perfume. Our house, at one time, was FULL (and do I mean full) of Mary Kay skin care and makeup! But my mom-- and her mother-- are STRONG. She fights for what she believes in. She contends for the faith in ways that many people say women have to place in. But she loves sparkly earrings and soft, bright scarves and has made my sister and I swear that we never let her wear those sweatshirts emblazoned with kittens, baskets and flowers, while sporting a lace collar. Creativity and beauty and strength and courage have always been cornerstones of who my mom is.

I can think of a list of other women who have one-by-one helped chip away at that idea that physical beauty and beautiful things do not detract from the ability to be a vulnerable, real and raw Christian. Including this lovely woman who's blog I've been glued to all day. (Visit her here, at http://hutch5.xanga.com/.)

How grateful I am!!!!

Dracula, Legalism and One Scared Blogger

2009-09-11T20:18:00.000-07:00

I have a confession to make.

I, Kaela, am reading Bram Stoker's Dracula.

I'd just like to point out that probably half to a third of you have read Twilight. Which is also about a vampire. After having a small conversation with one of the Wilson boys yesterday about the fact that high school students would rather talk Twilight, Harry Potter, etc. than what they study in Lit class, I almost had a heart attack. They really don't like to read the CLASSICS?! Its appalling! What about Swiss Family Robinson? Bleak House? Jane Austen's books anyone- Emma, Pride and Prejudice? Jungle Book? (No, not the Disney one). Wuthering Heights? The amazing Bronte missive, Jane Eyre? The Count of Monte Cristo? Oh, and A Tale of Two Cities! That's an amazing book. Don't get me wrong- I read all KINDS of books. Fluffy books. Romance books. Science fiction, fantasy, and yes, Harry Potter and Twilight have more than once graced my bookselves. I just love to read, pretty much anything. But just because its a good read doesn't mean it deserves to be in LIT class. :)

Recently I realized that I had never read Dracula. Its incredibly famous, one of the 19th centuries most devoured books. Ok, I realized after I wrote that what a terrible, terrible pun that is. My point is, however, that there is a current fascination with all things vampire, and I myself, have never really minded this particular kind of lore. But I did realize that Bram Stoker sparked a revived, and dare I say, civilized, fascination with the Children of the Night. And, much like Great Expectations or Bleak House, there is a dire, dark disturbing tone to it. Heavens, have any of you read Wuthering Heights? If that's not scary, I don't know what is. I decided that rather than drown in the flood of "vampiric lore" that has taken over the world, I would read the book that started it all and see what the fuss was all about.

But there is something about 19th century literature that glues me to the page in the most marvelous way. Its been no different with Dracula, strange reading material though it may be.

I was walking down the road, cooling down after my run, still glancing in the trees quite a bit more often than I do normally. I was thinking about much of what I've written here, and then I asked God, "Lord, show me where You are in Dracula."

Because, if we allow Him, He teaches us in ANYTHING. I'm not nearly finished with the book, but one of the first things I've seen is that holiness, the things of God, are things that 19th century authors were unafraid, in the least, to discuss. God and His truths are actually scattered through the book quite definitely already. I'm not saying that Dracula can be used as a tool book to teach people about God and Christianity. God is in all things if you allow Him to be. This is my biggest point here, I think, as I write about this.

What I mean to say is that sometimes as Christians we fear, many times unto paralyzation, that an object, a text, a person, a holiday or a place can somehow "rub off" its evil, its ungodliness, dissatisfaction, etc, onto us. That we, by osmosis, become evil by association. I knew that in writing the words "I am reading Dracula" at the top of this post I might very well invoke the wrath of many beloved, heart-felt Christian believers. I don't mean to.

Christ is VERY clear in scripture that evil, wrath, hatred, envy, witchcraft, sorcery, malice, idleness, etc, is intolerable by Him. We as believers are His image to the world, His ambassadors.

But what happens is His ambassadors become paralyzed for fear of infection. It seems at times that we fear everyone and everything. We fear trick-or-treaters, we fear the prostitutes who are on the corner, we fear storybooks, we fear politicians or news sources. Fear leads to legalism, and legalism to judgmental thinking, and suddenly we are just like the Pharisees and Sadducees. They worked so hard to be pure that they became the embodiment of what Christ came to defeat!

How horrifying it must have been for those men, and how horrifying for us, currently, that we would lose our ability to live among the people that Christ came to save simply to ensure that we do not become evil by association!

Lest anyone misinterpret what I am saying, I am very aware of Christ's definite command to be holy, to be unspotted by the world, to walk in the light and to bear only His burdens. I would never, never advocate for intentional sin or the breaking of God's law.

But back to Dracula. My whole point in bringing it up is that I am coming to understand that observation and awareness of evil does not mean approval and partaking of evil. For some topics like vampires is a stumbling block, a thing that ignites fear, and fear is a lack of trust in God, and therefore a sin. For others-- like me-- its CLOWNS that freak the living daylights out of me. I would never read a book about a scary clown even if you paid me a million dollars!

I'm not advocating the reading of 19th century Gothic literature, or 21st century pop literature, as a way of proving that we're impervious to evil. That itself is a stumbling block of GIANT proportion.

All I propose is that we, as true and sure believers in a living God, begin to let go of our preconceived notions about the contagion of sin and be willing to live with the people and place of our culture. NEVER to become those things, but we live IN the world-- that doesn't mean we are OF the world.

Those who are lost and hurting and empty don't want to hear about a certain length of dress, a banned book list, a required political view or a code of contact. They want HOPE. They want PEACE. They want to know that grace is massive, that God's love is unconditional, that their sin can be done away with, not just hidden from sight so it won't offend the sensibilities of the "good people". Christ lived with the sick, the dying, the prostitutes and the thieves. He knew their culture, He knew their lingo, and he CARED for them. He did not hold up His robe as they walked by, afraid to be contaminated. He did not look down his nose as they studied Greek pagan literature. He did not make Himself unattainable and unapproachable.

He SHONE. He radiated. He drew people to Him. It is so clear that they never would have come to Him if He was not lovely. Legalism is not lovely; CHRIST is lovely. He never compromised and brooked no unholiness, but He judged with TRUE justice.

Oh that we could be more like Christ. Less concerned with talking about those who read Dracula, Harry Potter or Twilight. Less concerned with those who don't fit our mold or our preconceived notions. Oh that we could KNOW that we BELONG to Him and that in true love their IS no fear. We do not need to fear that others' sin and unrighteousness will "accidentally" transfer itself to us if we are seeking and abiding in Him! We look to Him for our sustenance, our holiness, our radiance. We do not dwell on what is ungodly, but take even what we know to BE ungodly and ask Him to show us Himself and how we can reflect Him better in a world that is sick and dying.

Paul crafted Romans as a black sky in the first three chapters so that the brightness of Grace and Salvation would sparkle ever more brightly. Let us do the same with our lives. We cannot shine if we scare remove ourselves from our bubble of shiny people and good-rules-and-regulations land. We take His glory with us into the world, observe the world and then pray that He shows us every opportunity where we can shine best for Him. I myslelf am the biggest failure at this type of life, quite comfortable in my shiny castle on a hill. But I feel an incredible amount of conviction tonight on this matter.

I hope this makes sense. I know that it could be very offensive to some, and again I say I do not advocate unholiness for the sake of Christ- that would be absurd. But I do advocate a lack of fear and a lack of legalism that would keep us from actually reaching the people who need Him most.

Do What Makes You Come Alive

2009-09-09T17:33:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, Misty reminded me of my own "life motto". (By the way, how corny am I to have a life motto. Imagine with me right now, a radio program, Kaela's Words To Live By. HA!)

But I'm glad she reminded me of this little phrase that made such a difference in my life, one that I normally hand out like candy, to those who ask and even those who don't. Most often to those who don't. :)

"DO WHAT MAKES YOU COME ALIVE."

That motto and Ephesians 3:20 are cornerstones of my life, helping me discern where God is leading and stirring me on in faith. Which is very helpful, because if you know anything about me, my faith is the thing that needs the most help. :)

When I was just barely in my sophomore year (one of my many sophomore years :) ) Miss Oregon, Brita Stream, spoke at our college group. She had been a part of our church fellowship for several years and I knew her very casually. She was perfect. Tall, thin, blond, gorgeous, talented, sweet, funny and loved the Lord. The kind of person you would like to dislike but can't because they're just too lovely.

Brita spoke that night on her experience with the Miss America pageant world, in which she had just finished competing. I don't remember very much of what she talked about that evening except for six little words that she spoke.

"DO WHAT MAKES YOU COME ALIVE."

She said that she'd read those words in a little book at some point, as she was seeking the Lord on what He wanted for her life. The main idea was that when we do what makes us come alive we are reflecting the One who has designed us. In her case, what made her "come alive" was performing, being on stage, singing, having a voice for a cause. It helped her see that being in the pageant world was actually an avenue that she could bring God big glory.

Those words strung the harpstrings of my heart and I have never forgotten them. (Except for recently, apparently, when Misty started handing my own advice back to me.)

God receives the greatest glory when we embrace the uniqueness He's given us, the special things and desires He's placed in us. It has given me wings to fly at times in my life. The more I embrace the things that bring life to my soul-- teaching, learning, singing, dancing, writing, growing in hospitality, leading worship, discipling, and all sorts more-- it actually sheds a beautiful light to others.

For so long I wanted to be like Brita. Or anyone else I knew in high school and college. Tried to talk like someone else, take up hobbies that others enjoyed, learn things that others were gifted at.

But ever since that day in 2003 I have found that slowly God continues to make me see that being ME and doing all the things that make my heart sing is exactly what brings Him most glory.

Its my best, and probably only, piece of advice for questions ranging from "What should I do with my life?" to "What should I study in college?" to "Where am I supposed to be in ministry?"

We must never forget that our true life flows from Jesus Christ, and as we embrace Him and the desires of His heart they mingle with personal desires that He's already placed in us and we become a most effective tool in His hands.

So with that mysterious author, Miss Oregon 2002, and all those in the past who have cried this same cry, I say "Do what makes you come alive" and believe that He can do exceedingly, abundantly above anything we could ask or imagine according to His power that is at work within us.

Happy Wednesday!

The Best for Last

2009-09-07T22:54:00.000-07:00

My little sister got married on Saturday.

She may not be blood related, and we ebb and flow in our closeness, but Sarah is family to me and watching her get married was one of the happiest days of my life.

Its Oregon and of course it had to rain. It rained on Friday and when I woke up on Saturday morning it was pouring. It shows my lack of faith that I was convinced that there was no way it was going to stop before the four o'clock ceremony.

I went over to the church about an hour and a half after they all arrived and walked in just as Monique (Sarah's mom) was running out, frantically dialing my number. :) I had just called to ask if she needed anything but I made it to the church before she remembered that her earrings were still at home. So I called Ron (the Westfall papa) to ensure that all three sets of potential earrings made it to the church-- while waiting for him to pick up I heard "K-Baby!" in that shrill, happy Sarah voice as she waltzed from one room to another, waving at me as she went by. Monique and I had to laugh. I can't remember when she started calling me that, but almost every time I walk into a room she's in that's what I hear. I kind of love it.

Amanda, maid of honor/big sister/best friend, was in somewhat of a daze, sitting in the rocking chair, and I sat next to her for a while and we watched all the bridesmaids getting ready. Most of them are Sarah's high school friends and after a while I said to Amanda that it looked like they were just getting ready for another prom or homecoming dance, just like they did in high school. There was much giggling, playing Taylor Swift on the laptop (whose icons were mysteriously missing :) ), false eyelashes, hair curling and hot gluing of gems. Sarah seemed surprisingly calm.

At one point, though, she mentioned feeling sick to her stomach and someone asked why. They got the severe brow uplift and the head side-bob as Sarah said, in only the way she can, "Why do you think I feel sick?! I'm getting married!" Other than that she exuded a calmness that I was really proud of-- even though I know that inside she was emotionally squirming.

But when she walked down that aisle and saw Ian, every eye in the place was wet with tears. Okay, maybe I exaggerate, but I know that at least the first two rows were crying. I know I was. She looked like an angel.

And did I mention that the rain absolutely stopped? And every few minutes a little sunbreak would shine through and hit Sarah. It was like magic. There's no way to manufacture that kind of beauty. God gave her an even extra-special gift.

The wedding was perfect. Peaceful, meaningful, full of laughter and tears and precious moments. My sister and my best friend share a lot in common when it comes to style and the way they do things, so I wondered how their weddings would measure up to one another. Haley's wedding was a party-and-a-half, full of vibrancy, laughter, and craziness. Sarah's wedding was peaceful, laid back, modern, full of fun and a sense of rightness. I can never remember ever liking one wedding as much, let alone two.

Haley's wedding was full of celebration, Hope's wedding was full of memories, and Sarah's was full of promise.

I'm weddinged out, but it was kind of fun to save the best for last. We partied into the night, dancing, eating amazing food, and laughing. Sarah and Ian drove away in a shower of sugar-rice in a black Corvette, ready to start a new life.

I know my feelings aren't on the same register as the Westfalls', but I have to say that I haven't often been that proud or full of emotion. The night before the wedding I thought of a picture I keep in my wallet, from when Sarah was nine years old and I was sixteen. I think I've written abut it here before- I was giving her a piggy-back ride in the dinner line at a summer camp. She is so different and yet so the same- its amazing how a nine year old and a nineteen year old can be at once the same person; little sister and a woman. How I'll miss her as things were, but how excited I am for what is ahead.

Congratulations Sarah and Ian! I love you both!

Is the Sunrise Worth It?

2009-09-02T22:21:00.000-07:00

I am not a morning person.

In fact, I think I’m as far from a morning person as one can get. Were the world a place where mysterious, night creatures like vampires actually did exist, I wouldn’t be one, but I could be mistaken for one due to my nocturnal habits. And my Oregonian-pale-white skin.

(Sunrise over the hilltop behind my church)

But this morning for a work commitment I forced myself up at 6:00am- well, let’s be honest, it was really 6:15. Thank goodness for four alarms. If I had only one I’d be toast.

The sun was rising as I made my way into town to grab coffee. Our district-wide meeting was over by 10:00am, a successful morning full of excitement before all the students come back to school next week and we’re preparing for the inundation of new learners.

As I made my way to Starbucks for my second cup of coffee this morning (did I mention I’m not a morning person?), I thought to myself that I might decide to be a morning person. I was driving back to my office, coffee in hand, window down, sun on my face, sunglasses, worship music playing, four hours of my day already passed by and full of productivity. It was invigorating! Maybe that will be my goal for the end of this year….

Let’s think about the benefits of being a morning person:

Sunrise is beautiful
There is just something about the fresh-in-the-morning smell
The house is quiet
I get the bathroom to myself
Getting up early increases my hours in the day

Well, I’m running out of reasons to get up early, but if anyone else can provide some “compunction” for me, I’d greatly appreciate it. It will also help in December, January and February, when its dark, cold and wet in the morning… I’ll need some decisiveness then!
We’ll see how it goes!

Question: What are other good reasons to become "a morning person"?

5 Seconds

2009-08-31T23:34:00.000-07:00

My five second complaint session:

I hate headaches.
I hate feeling sick from pain meds.
I hate walking crooked and not being able to say full sentences or type efficiently
I hate missing work and throwing my whole week off.

Okay, but what I LOVE:

Watching Disney movies and reading library books because I didn't go to work.
Freak-out sessions with Michelle over silly things.
Doggies who like to cuddle and try to remove the squeaker part from the middle of their squeaker toys.
York Peppermint patties, which have only 25 fat calories in them. yum, yum
Reading other peoples' blogs, especially this amazing lady's: http://resolved2worship.xanga.com/
Knowing tomorrow is a new day, with no mistakes in it. (Thank you to Anne Shirley's teacher for this bit of wisdom)
That God loves me even though I am possibly the worse communicator in the world.

A Godmother's Love

2009-08-24T17:44:00.000-07:00

Back from Texas! Highlights from the trip:

- Laughing until I cried because M had to use the "great outdoor toilet" in the middle of the night in Eastern Oregon. Who knows what's out there stalking you?!

- On-the-way driving lessons. I'm not proficient at driving a manual car. J and M decided I should practice in a gravel lot off the side of the New Mexico interstate. After they experienced my manual driving skills and the whip lash that was included we all silently decided we all might be safer if the two of them just drove the rest of the trip.

- Seeing four US states that I previously had not visited. Utah, by the way, is stunning, if not a little bare, and Colorado is not at all what I expected.

- Sonic Vanilla Diet Cokes. Every single time we stopped M INSISTED I upgrade to the largest of the large size drink, because "It's FREE". At one point, after several times of balking at the massive, two-hands-needed drink, M's aunt very pointedly told me that I needed to "Texas up".

- The heat that soaked into my bones. It was delightful.

-Being scared that I would get eaten by some huge swarm of locust (which truly sound like aliens) while running out on County Road 110 (or wherever I was).

-Unknowingly sitting on top of a wasp's nest on the porch. It makes my skin crawl still. Praise God I didn't get stung!

-Sitting in the back of the pick up on Saturday evening with one of my god-daughters watching the miles-wide lightning storm to the north, cuddling and talking about life. You couldn't pay me enough to give up moments like that.

-Realizing how behind the times I am when the girls produced Monopoly that now uses plastic credit cards instead of the colored paper cash I grew up using. It made me feel old.

-Spending all Sunday afternoon at the pool, getting a safe, sunscreen -regulated tan on this white Oregon skin. (It didn't last long). We threw basket tosses, played Marco Polo, ate amazing food, floated for hours and generally had a delightful time. (Well, except for the pre-adolescent drama-filled cry sessions generated by my oldest god daughter.)

-Sitting on the front porch with every woman in J's family, listening to stories about their kids, grandkids, families and friends. There is something about those Southern women.

-Learning how to play poker and failing miserably. Thankfully we weren't betting any real money!

-Getting to share my heart about God and His gospel with M's brother for an hour and a half at the kitchen table.

- Night-before-leaving Texas BBQ. SO good.

-Conversing with M's grandpa, Pop, at a weekend cookout, listening to his stories and receiving some of the best advice ever. "You've got to marry your best pal, your best friend, or you'll never make it."

-Did I mention how excited Iwas to be warm?

-Hearing Moe's voice every few minutes in the middle of the night trek through Utah on the way home. "Daddy?" "Yeah babe?" "How can you stay awake so long to drive?" (Just an example of the many questions from the backseat at 2am.)

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The trip wasn't what I expected, but I know God had a purpose in it. One of the most precious things seems odd to me. I realized after we were heading home that I hadn't gotten to spend a lot of time with my god daughters while in Texas. They had their cousins and friends and were very occupied with that. But I realized that what has happened is that I've stopped being a novelty in their life and have become a constant. They have put me in a different category than I used to belong. Once upon a time I was the fairy godmother that stole them away to watch movies, eat sugar and spend the night.

Now, I'm there when they want to cuddle, talk about life, fall asleep on my lap or shoulder on a thirty hour car ride. They obey me when I tell them to do things, and ignore me just like they ignore their mom. They don't guard their words or conversations when I'm around, they get cranky, and expect me to always be there for them.

Because I will be. I never used to know that it meant to be a godparent, and the definitions differ depending on whom you talk with. But when M and J asked me to be the girls' godmother, it meant something serious and full of meaning, a responsibility I had to think and pray about for a long time. Those girls are in my life for good now, and I was so blessed to be ignored by them. It made me realize that they know I'm not a novelty in their lives. I'm a fixture, a safe place.

I love them. Until I have my own children and feel that real mother's love I can't imagine loving any other kids as much.

Ponderings

2009-08-08T15:04:00.000-07:00

Several months ago I was sitting next to my 'sister' Amanda during a church service and noticed tons of Post-It notes sticking out of her Bible in all different directions. I lifted a quizzical eyebrow, flipped one of the sticky notes and she laughed and silently handed me a few folded up pieces of paper.

The papers were a print out her Uncle T had given her describing a Bible reading plan a little different than anything I'd ever heard before. I've seen and done a lot of reading plans in my life and while this might sound so inane, sometimes I struggle to find ways to keep my scripture reading fresh. I am a creature of habit in EVERYTHING that I do... what I eat, the way I sleep, the route I drive to work. I get it from my dad. Its not so much a routine-based life I live (that would drive me crazy), but a habit-based life that makes me comfortable. However, a habit-based reading of Scripture keeps me reading in Psalms and Ephesians over and over and over again. Nothing wrong with that, except I'm also a huge proponent of contextualism. Its hard to have a broad concept of God and His word when one only reads two of the books.

Anyway, all that to say, I took up that reading plan, which really keeps you moving through Scripture in a broad way, and it landed me in Romans 5 the other night. Verses 3-5 really, really stuck out to me. I've heard them a hundred times, but I really got caught up thinking about them.

"...knowing that tribulation produces perseverance, perserverance, character, and character, hope. Now hope does not disappoint because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us." (NKJV)

Due to my time in both School of Ministry and becoming a baby-historian (not quite a full blown historian till you're PhD'd out) something that is ESSENTIAL to me in studying is context. Context is key. Context is king. Context, context, context. So important when it comes to reading scripture, because without the proper context people can take Scripture to say and mean thousands of things that it wasn't intended for. This can lead to disappointed hopes, misunderstandings about God or others, and worst cases, can really injure people physically, spiritually and emotionally.

So when I came to these verses the other night I journaled a prayer to the Lord, asking Him to show me what that verse really means. What qualifies as tribulation? What is His definition of hope? How does hope not disappoint?

Some of you may be furrowing your brows and saying, "Its pretty self-evident, Kaela." But I want to understand what God wants me to understand, not just what I want.

I think I have some pretty good ideas floating around, but I'd also take anyone's thoughts on Romans 5:3-5! Maybe I'll write up my thoughts another day soon, but please feel free to leave me your thoughts on what these verses really mean.

Anticipation

2009-08-06T18:24:00.000-07:00

Sarah and I at her first bridal shower

Amanda's Graduation Party

Hanging out with my best boy friend ;)

Hope getting ready for her wedding!

Shawna and I, friends for 14 years, I think

Hope and I on her wedding day!

Hanging out in the cul de sac... its kind of what we do

An afternoon bike ride complete with beautiful sky, mint fields and a brother who was hacking up a long due to allergies.

The CSOM 08-09 Class-- Women and Staff

The CSOM 08-09 Class Men and Staff

Me, Emily and Moe after Emily's last choir concert of the year

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I was expecting this year to go by with no vacation. Going to Nigeria didn't pan out and finances are SUPER tight, so vacation didn't seem possible. I was okay with it, but I desperately feel the need for some down time. I'm not even sure why, but I feel tired.

Suddenly, out of the blue a free-to-me road trip to my favorite vacay spot in the country- TEXAS- popped up. I thought there was no way I could get the time off work, since we'd leave next week, but lo and behold my boss immediately said "Oh yeah, go!" even though it means I miss the first board meeting of the new year. (Not a lot of skin off my nose, I tell you what.)

I love Texas. Its warm there, for one thing. I love the people I've met there-- they are unassuming, kind, and I never have to pretend to be high-faluting or fancy. I can just be myself. The families I'll be visiting definitely classify as the "redneck" crowd, which I find hilarious. Aside from the alcholic consumption I find them hysterical and very kind.

The funniest thing about this trip is that it will be a ROAD TRIP. Yeah, when was the last time you spent 30 hours in a car? Thankfully its a big car, and I reminded Misty that I survived a 24 hour plane ride to Nigeria last summer. At least with a car you can stop and get out. I can definitely handle reading, sleeping and eating on a drive through the Western Continental U.S.

I figure that this falls under one of my New Years Resolutions to say "yes" to adventure when it appears. It seems a little crazy to just hop in a car and drive 30 hours, but maybe that's why I am anticipating it. Texas seems to be my "go to" place when I need to relax and chill out.

So, Big Spring, Abilene and Clyde here I come. I don't even think Clyde is on a map, but its a great little town. Texas BBQ, Sonic vanilla Diet Coke, my god daughters, new people to meet, sunshine, pools and a possible tan all await me next week. God knows me very, very well!!!

I'll try to post pictures of the trip as we go along, but most likely I'll update when I get back!

Treasures of Life and Hot Afternoons

2009-07-27T23:08:00.000-07:00

I love writing and blogging, and even though I have more "hours" free in my days this summer, it feels like I have less "mental hours". Wedding #2 went off without a single hitch on Saturday, but it was LONG, LONG day. And hot too. Outside weddings in July are almost always guaranteed to be sweaty days. I just felt terrible for the half of the audience who sat in the direct sunlight!

We survived the day, got Hope and Troy in the car to drive away and then I collapsed at Michelle's with a Diet Coke and aching feet. Its a joy to have people with whom I can be ENTIRELY myself-- even when I'm not at my best.

Things are picking back up with Cornerstone School of Ministry- we interviewed about half of the incoming students today and it made the day so wonderful. We got plans underway for different classes and projects, different utilization of networks, and I had a really good burrito for lunch!

I love connecting with people; it just makes my life light up. Being an introvert, however, being with people also exhausts me. So, I took a nap this evening, read about 100 pages in a book, watched the Bachelorette finale (I know, I know- pathetic), and ate dinner... all by myself. Sometimes it is just nice to be alone. One day that won't be the case, but today it is.

Some of the married gals who were in Hope's wedding or helped prep for it were talking about that on Saturday, how one of the things they loved about getting married was that they never had to be alone or without their lover-boy again. (Ok, I added the lover boy statement, but that's what they were getting at. :) ) What a treasure that must be, to intentionally join yourself to another person whom God has chosen for you and to know that the commitment you make is a forever-and-ever kind of commitment. Its a heavy treasure and one not to be taken lightly, but a treasure nonetheless.

I'm so happy for the people around me who are taking such joy in their marriages! Haley is glowing like a little light bulb every time I see her or talk to her. Hope was about to float over the moon on Saturday, and Sarah (getting married in a month!) told me that one of her favorite things about marrying Ian is that she gets to know who her lifelong partner is so early on in her life. I'm so happy for all of them and am praying for the joy of the Lord to continue in their lives through all things and that they don't take for granted, ever, the chance they have to wake up with the love of their life every morning.

I didn't mean to get all mushy-- but when you're wedding-ed out like I am, romance seems to gather like a mist whether one likes it or not!

Another hot day tomorrow here in our little valley; I'm loving it! Everyone else is kind of melting, but it reminds me of Nigeria and for that I am grateful! (I still keep having to take a sweater inside every building I enter, because Willamette Valley-ers tend to overcompensate for the heat by making every interior 10 degrees F. :) )

A Day in the Life of a Farmer

2009-07-20T20:35:00.001-07:00

Farmers work hard. They really do. I've always known that, and studying history one can't help but realize that most of the earth for most of its centuries has been labored over by farmers. However, its not till you get in a tractor and haul up and down fields for a couple hours with your best friends that you realize in a more personal way that farmers work hard.

I got a precious Saturday up in Farmers-Ville with Haley and Blake; its a busy season for the newlyweds, and so in order to fit in Kaela Time and Blake Time in a day that really didn't have time for either, Haley and I joined Blake on the bankout tractor for a few hours.

SO fun. I mean, I know that it was only fun because it was novel. Blake works incredibly hard and he's very good at his job, but it doesn't mean that it has to be uber-exciting. However, it got REALLY exciting when Blake got out to move a semi and Haley and I took over.

Imagine this. Big tractor cab. HUGE steering wheel. Lots of knobs and levers and buttons and $6,000 tires on the tractor. Tiny Haley. TINY Haley.

Blake moves the steering wheel up so he can pass me and climb out of the cab. Haley climbs in the drivers seat and I shut the door. Blake climbs in his truck and starts driving away...

But Haley and I realize that we don't know how to get the steering wheel back to where it was. Perhaps it is self-explanatory to everyone else, but neither of us thought to ask before Blake was too far away.

The wheel was perpendicular to the floor, a big black disc hovering high above the seat. Haley says "I'll just drive it like this" and then we both launched in to peals of laughter. The image of her trying to drive it as it was was more than amusing... and probably quite dangerous.

Blake is passing us in the semi, staring out the window, wondering why we aren't moving... and we're both yelling at him and waving our arms at the steering wheel... he's motioning at us in a downward motion, so we start pressing everything downward that we can find.

Unfortunately none of the things we are pushing on are actually movable. By this time we are almost crying because we were laughing so hard. Then suddenly, in a stroke of brilliance we both thought to look down and see if there is a lever (like there is in a car)... the only lever I hadn't seen Blake push with his foot was this small one in between the brake and many other "gas pedal" looking levers. Haley stretched her very short leg down and pushed it and TA DA. The steering wheel was back to normal and we were laughing ourselves silly.

Poor Blake. He works hard and he had to watch helplessly as we made the smallest thing quite difficult. Yay for Haley, learning to be a farmer's wifey.

What a fun day. And we didn't run over anyone in the tractor, so yay for us too.

How Lovely Are Days Gone By

2009-07-14T19:10:00.000-07:00

Woohoo! What a lovely few days it has been.

Saturday: Read all day. I mean, literally all day. It was amazing. I read and read like that when I was a child and all through high school, but then a point hit in my life where I was either only reading text books or nothing at all, and then got consumed by ministry and work. It was amazing to just dive into novels and then some amazing new historical works, and then back to novels again. My poor dog didn't like it much... till I took him to the park and let him run while I read. I probably should have run too, but I was too engrossed in my book. Books, plural, actually.

Sunday: Off to the city. I was stuck in traffic for EVER... an hour and a half trip to the city turned into three hours. I would have gone berserk except for the fact I was wrapped up in choreographing in my head. Too bad I couldn't pull my Dance Paws out of my purse and dance on the freeway. I probably would've had some heads turning........ Turns out that there was both construction and a semi tipped over- thus the extraordinary wait-time. My pointer finger was sore from constantly rewinding and restarting the song on my CD so I could count out 8-counts and try to figure out if that lift would work with that move afterwards, and so on and so forth. It irks me to no end that I have no male dance partner!! It would be so much easier to just DO the lift then try to figure it out in my head. Anyway, I digress. Once I got to Hope's house in Portland I glued two hundred fan-bases to two hundred fan-wedding-programs, thus giving myself a hot-glue-gun-callus on my already CD-sore pointer finger. Thankfully we made a mile long list of organizational items, finished the wedding vows, and tried to think of anything and everything at could go wrong at the wedding so that it won't. Then I drove home. It POURED rain. July in Oregon.... figures. Since I was home a few hours earlier than expected I headed to the Westfall's for an amazing game of "Battle of the Sexes." Hysterical!!! And who knew that it would come in handy that I happen to know the first black president of South Africa?

Monday: A gloomy, overcast day outside, but work went smoothly. Then there was more reading. Insatiable reading, actually. :)

Today: The sun finally came out!!!!!! Work was wonderful: I had my first annual review and got a stellar evaluation. It was so nice to feel so appreciated and complimented and see how God has just placed me in my job for such a time as this. Though I might have to get another part time job to make ends meet, I really thank the Lord for such a wonderful opportunity. Then I snuck out a little early (with permission of course) and kidnapped Little Sister to get some Dutch Bros and have our nails done. Things are so crazy with Wedding #3 and many other things that we almost never get a chance to talk. It was delightful. I came home and ate some dinner while watching last night's Bachelorette online. Ugh. I feel so depressed that I actually WATCH that show, because, well, its too long to explain here. Is it wrong that I like Ed? I mean, I know that no one really does, but I kind of do. But I hate that the show has its grips in me... blech. Anyway....

Now off to spend some time with my absentee-friend Michelle. We have been parted for many a day and, as I promised to teach her to dance, we are going to watch a dance-flick tonight for her inspiration.

I think that these last several days have been so lovely because I don't feel sick. My head still hurts, but I could not STAND taking anymore medication. It made me feel SOOOOOO ill. So, wise or not, I decided to take a break from preventative medication and just let my body take a breather.

I can't TELL you how amazing I feel. It most likely won't last through the end of the week or next week, but the respite has been incredible. Thank you God for your gracious gifts!!

Honesty

2009-07-06T21:49:00.001-07:00

I'm sitting here inhaling my favorite cup of tea. This tea is hard to find, some amazing raspberry chocolate awesome-ness that my dearest brother tracked down for my birthday and bought me three boxes of. Its like gold and sometimes I just let it sit there and I smell it for a long time before I drink it. It brings back good memories and makes me feel better every time I drink it.

I am in need of feeling better tonight. Today was a perseverance day. I have a lot of those lately. My headaches have gotten increasingly worse over the last month; every day is a battle it seems. I'm stumping my poor doctors, have tried every thing in the book, and feel like a virtual guinea pig for medications and treatments. Sometimes the medication is just as bad as the pain.

A new medication was started today, that has dual purposes in treatment, both migraines and blood pressure. When I discovered that I felt a little alarmed. I run or workout almost every day, not because I'm obsessive but the endorphins make me feel better. But blood pressure medicine and high levels of activity don't really mix.

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I went on an amazing adventure camping trip overnight on Saturday, the Fourth. But because of weaning off the old medication, the really late night, poor sleeping conditions and an early drive back to town for church I felt like clawing my eyes out as we got about halfway home. The backseat-ers were sleeping and my little "brother" LJ was reading in the front seat, contented in the warmth of the car. That was a tough drive home.

I barely made it home and through a shower before I had to lay down. My skull was pounding so hard I thought I might scream. So much for church. Thing I hate #1- missing events because I'm either zonked out or in too much pain.

After waking up from my nap a few hours later, I successfully ran one errand and then proceeded to lounge at home all day. What a waste, I felt. Good for nothing day. Thing I hate #2- perfectly good days wasted away.

Today I slept in. Ten hours a night is a must for me- lack of sleep is a major trigger for headaches. But its a double edged sword-- too much sleep and I get a headache from that too! When I woke up and looked in the mirror it was not what I wanted to see.

"Yikes, yikes yikes, and let me guess... you have a great personality." (Quote from Emperor's New Groove movie... surely how I felt this morning. And not even a highly likely on the great personality part.) So I took an hour to get ready. I could've just tied my hair back and gone to work, but today I was just determined to give it some effort. Even if I felt horrible I didn't have to acquiesce to looking horrible. Battle #1 of the day won.

I took the medication before heading to work. The usual dizziness or extreme fatigue didn't set in... I'm kind of used to those. But I have felt sick to my stomach all day long; unless I'm eating something I feel sick. Any pregnant ladies out there sympathize? I wish there was something as delightful as a baby coming out of all this, but no. However, I made it through a few hours of work. I just pushed, and pushed and kept moving as much as I could. Its so tempting to just give up, but I tried not to. Listening to sermons while I do desk work has been a real joy to me and often distracts me enough to get through the day. Even though I only made it through 3 and 1/2 hours at work before I had to leave, it was Battle #2 of the day won.

I ate something after work again and made some calls for the School of Ministry. After that I was toast for a few more hours. Finally around 7:45 I got up enough gumption to go on a run. You may be asking "Are you insane?!" I asked the same thing. But I am determined not to let this get the better of me. So, Brodie and I went on a run. I lasted about 1/4 of a mile before getting super dizzy. We walked the rest of the route and walked back. All I kept thinking as we walked the hill was that I wasn't going to quit, even if I have to go back to square one and start running like a newbie again. I'm not going to give in. Battle #3 won.

A trip to the grocery store and to the pet store for a new leash (Brodie's snapped on our run) and I felt a little revived. However, running the vacuum almost made me pass out and I was back to sitting on the couch, pondering if I would pass out in the shower from the heat and medication. I decided to make a cup of tea, eat some apple slices and blog for a while instead. Behind my right eye a pulse is going steady, but at least the floor and the couch of the living room are clean. Battle #4 won.

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Our church secretary, Cindy, has lived a life of much suffering. Her husband and multiple family members have suffered extreme physical ailments; her husband passed away several years ago and her daughter lives with the same kind of headaches as I do, so she knows what its like to suffer, to grieve, to endure. She has encouraged me to no end when I have reached the last of my own resources. There are two things that Cindy and her family lived by when her husband was struggling with cancer: #1: take it 15 minutes at a time. Just focus on the next 15 minutes-- don't try to look any further than that. #2: her family members were allowed to have a bad morning, or a bad hour, but they were never allowed to have a bad day. There simply wasn't enough time to waste having a bad day.

Sometimes those two rules are all that gets me through the day. Days like today I don't even know how to pray sometimes. Its enough to know that God is sustaining me and that He is there even when I can't respond or verbally invite Him in. He is with me during all those hours of sleep. He is with me on those runs I can't finish. He is with me when finishing a project at work is like moving a mountain.

I can't imagine my life without Him. If I never have another thing in my life, if it is always going from one day to the next, climbing that mountain, He is enough. Without Him I would absolutely fall apart.

There's a song that I hear on the radio every once in a while that has really been ministering to my soul. The chorus rings: "I will rise when He calls my name, no more sorrow, no more shame, I will rise on eagles wings, before My God fall on my knees, and rise... I will rise!"

To the sustainer of all life and winner of Battles both universal and tiny be the glory and honor forever and ever.

Correction and More Interesting Facts

2009-07-04T13:51:00.001-07:00

So, the scan of the Declaration of Independence I was looking at yesterday was in fact a rough draft of the document, which Benjamin Franklin and John Adams edited for Thomas Jefferson... Thus my note was made about the difference between A Declaration and The Declaration... turns out neither title is actually correct...

The official, final title of the Declaration is as follows "The unanimous Declaration of the Thirteen United States of America."

Amazing document. I encourage you to read it here! http://www.ushistory.org/declaration/

Happy 4th!

Freedom's Holiday

2009-07-03T22:55:00.000-07:00

I don't know exactly when the Fourth of July became my favorite holiday, but it is. When people discover that, and then find out I focused on colonial history in my degree, they nod sagely and say, "OH, that makes sense." But I loved the Fourth of July long before I ever chose History as my degree.

Christmas is a great holiday. Its probably like 1/2 an inch below the Fourth in my mind, but the Fourth just right above it. Thanksgiving is really low on the radar, I pretty much despise Valentine's Day and lets face it, St. Patrick's day is just absurd. That said, I love holidays, especially the Fourth of July.

There's something romantic about the Fourth of July. Weird, I know, but I have always thought so. The fireworks, the hot summer days. I have yet to have the perfect Fourth of July. Its like this perfect day out there waiting for me. I swear, if I ever get married I would be less upset about my husband missing Christmas or Thanksgiving than if he missed the Fourth. :)

I have visions in my head of huge wide porches and tables set up outside and thirty kids running around the yard while adults eat watermelon and set off fireworks in the driveway. Fourth of July always speaks of family, of fun, of celebration, of connection... to me, anyway. No one else I know thinks this way at all. :)

In July 1776 the Americans never could have seen what our country would become. The furthest they ever thought they would expand was to the borders already in place to the west. Many scholars support the fact that many Americans didn't want to secede from England at all. But when given what they saw as no other choice, they penned A Declaration of Independence. (Note the first word in the title is A, not The. :) Go check out a scan of the real deal... )

Separating oneself from all that you have ever known is something that almost no one has the guts to do. But there were a handful who believed that they would be better served-- both them and generations after them-- if they had the ability to make decisions for themselves, not be ruled by a tired, old colonial power from across the sea. England had, and has, virtues in the hundreds, but their distance from America led to a disconnect from the people, the daily grind, the faces and names of the colonists who considered themselves English Americans. They were English-alone no more.

A revolution followed, to which we all know the ending. All of the symbols that create a stir of patriotism in Americans today find their roots in those years, more than 200 years ago.

Celebration of freedom from tyranny, despotism and the forced acceptance of a rule that is not for the best interest of the ruled should have a richer meaning for those who profess Christ. We have a task at hand similar to that of the early Americans, to secede from the pull of the world, the rule of the Enemy, and the shackles of spiritual slavery and to declare that by Christ's blood we have a freedom that was not paid for by our own sacrifice. We did not shed blood, tears, sweat, or glory on a battlefield to win our spiritual independence. He did. In our place. For our freedom.

I'm not trying to take application out of a historic sentiment where there exists none. But how can the symbolism pass us by? We enjoy a physical, national freedom because of the choices made by men and women hundreds of years ago and we often take it for granted. How much more do we take for granted the freedom that we have, bought for us at Calvary? By one man, not hundreds. By one choice, not many.

Christ made a declaration of independence for us when He died on the cross and rose again. All we have to do is embrace it.

So, here's to the celebration of Freedom, both national and spiritual. May we never place the former above the latter, and always appreciate both.

The Three Essential S's of Summer

2009-07-02T12:10:00.000-07:00

What a week!

Its sunny in Oregon again, finally! Loving that. I'm a real Oregon girl-- seasons are delightful to me. I like winter least, of course, and fall the best. But summer is just mm-mm-good, to quote a little Pillsbury Dough Boy friend of mine.

I love that life has settled into its typical summer rhythm for me. Summers equate a few things to me: softball, sun, and THE show. S, S and S.

My church has a softball team that is really quite good, and for years now I've been going to their weekly games. Its one of the things I look forward to most every year. Last night the team lost by one point in the last inning. So sad. Maybe its because our cheering was a little lackluster. Most of the time the stands are full of yelling and screaming-- and that's just Amanda yelling at her dad. :) You add the rest of us in and its quite the cacophony. I usually say inane things, like last night's call of encouragement "That's just... great!" I got some laughs out of that one. Michelle was so enthralled last night she actually looked up from her book a couple of times. (Sorry, M, I just couldn't help it. :) )

Wednesdays and Thursdays there is a standing date at the Westfall's house for the show-of-all-shows, namely, "So You Think You Can Dance". I don't know exactly how we got so obsessive about it when it began several years ago, but now we talk about past contestants as if we knew them personally. Ron still has a severe crush on Pasha, the Russian ballroom dancer from a few seasons ago. I mean, who wouldn't, really? He was probably my favorite dancer... ever. Yikes.... anyway, moving on... These SYTYCD nights are often full of a lot of yelling, critiquing, noise, disagreement, laughter, and texting to Haley in full caps things like "DID YOU JUST SEE THAT?!" As dancers, Haley, Monique and I usually enjoy the dancing. Ron enjoys Cat Deeley (the host) saying words like "judges" and the title of the show with her British accent. He also occasionally tries out some dance moves during commercials, when not eagerly waiting for our favorite news anchor to give a brief report. Ron shouldn't dance.

The sun... well I don't need to explain that to anyone, especially our sun-parched Oregonian friends. Its AMAZING. I swear that if I could live somewhere where it was a bit warmer year round I'd be happy.

I'm wondering how much I can get done this evening after work before watching the results show at 9pm.
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For anyone interested, you should follow along with the team that just left from my church to Abuja, Nigeria, the place I went to last summer and fell in LOVE with.... check out abujabound.blogspot.com

The Angle of my Life

2009-06-26T00:02:00.000-07:00

I'm quite a bit of a cross-between.

This is nothing like a cross-dresser, nor bearing my cross, nor crossing bridges, or anything like that.

It just means I'm in that interesting place of being kind of two different people. Liking my life so much-- my job, my dog, my dear friends, my degree and my possible future. But there is part of me that longs for something different. I can clearly define what it would look like to anyone who would ask, but its so dang specific that it feels like a lot to ask. And its very different than what my life is now. And I don't think I have what it takes to have the kind of life I would imagine.

So, even though I'm so content in the busy, parceled out, barely scraping by, one day at a time kind of life, there are other things I want.

A huge wrap around porch with views of fields and mountains.

An office inside the house that's just mine for writing and research.

Animals. Dogs, cats, horses... maybe even bunnies. You just never know.

Having the kind of home everyone loves to be in.

Marrying my best friend and soul mate and never once, once questioning that it was a perfect decision.

Getting to travel and experience what life is like for other people, and to affect change for them.

Having kids and loving them with the kind of perfect love that only Christ can give.

My parents living till they're 90 years old and being spoil 'em rotten grand parents.

Beautiful sunsets for the rest of my life.

Making a difference in students' lives.

Being able to teach what I love in a place where it actually matters.

Laying in the lake on a hot summer day with the sun shining on me.

HUGE, and I mean, HUGE 4th of July parties at my house.

....................................................................................................

I could keep going, but I won't. I was just enjoying the blogs of some wonderful gals who are just so noteworthy and lovely, and while they never say they are perfect or pretend to be anything than they are, I see in them what I long for in myself. An ability to be beautiful and content in the midst of all of life.

Its Christ in them, through and through.

There are hundreds and thousands of pieces that make up each person, unique and individual. We, as humanity, are capable of both great beauty and great evil. God lets us move within a certain circle of his Sovereignty and while He holds us accountable He also lets us make choices that define who we are and who we become.

I'm not good at it now, but I pray that I will grow in making choices that cause each of those pieces of who I am to tilt to just the right direction, the correct angle, to catch ever more light of His glory and reflect it, regardless of what my life ends up looking like. Each of the people I truly admire and respect in my life, the women whose lives I say "That, without question, is what I long to be like," are also deeply in love with Christ. It shows.

So whether or not I get my big wrap around porch and marry a soulmate, or end up staying just here I am and never leave, I don't want to forget that God is who makes all things beautiful.

That this little cross-between girl would ever be searching to be more like Him and less-- much less-- like I am right now.

I'm still sick, but on the upswing. Now the cough has set in, so off to bed I go with cough drops and cough medicine in tow...