A Life In Ordinary

...Whatever is Lovely...

2012-02-13T10:39:00.000-06:00

Go looking for honey, and chances are good you'll stir up some bees.

Despite my declaration that thick skin is a necessity, my heart is easily bruised by people I've loved with reckless abandon. (And I mean every bit of that cheesy-sounding sentence.) Stings multiply quickly, and they swell until, like Peter on the waves, I cry out praying that I would quit being the common denominator in a series of never-will-be-the-sames. And while change is certainly good, it seems people forget that we live in the wreckage of that change while learning to withstand the fire of the "adjustment period." Sometimes, the real adjustment is the wake-up call that there are petty people in the world who will quit when they've never tried. But that, too, is a sting.

Few of those things are lovely. Actually, I pretty positive that absolutely none of those things are lovely in any sense of the word.

So I've been trying to reconcile the command that we should think on truth, nobility, righteousness, purity and loveliness to the reality that our lives may look a little less lovely and a little more wrecked at times. Then what?

Then we know we are redeemed, and that water and fire cannot drown or burn us (Isaiah 43:1-2). Then our focus gravitates to the year of the Lord's favor, and his anointing to heal the broken (Isaiah 61). Then we revel in the fact that loveliness doesn't come from perfection, but from the precious gift housed in the shoddiest vessel available (2 Corinthians 4:7).

In the process, I guess I'm starting to see that the loveliest picture is generally made from fragments and shards that will never go together the same way again. Who would want them to when your God is "doing a new thing"? (Isaiah 43:19).

Perhaps the loveliest picture we will ever see is the broken redeemed. Think about such things.

...Whatever is Pure...Part 2

2012-02-08T21:05:00.002-06:00

Start at the beginning

In high school culture, the 16th birthday is a big deal. Around here, it doesn't just afford the new driver the opportunity to get from place to place; it also affords them a new found freedom at lunch due to the phenomenon of open campus.

Invariably, that person develops any number of friendships in the weeks before s/he turns 16. Freshmen and young sophomores come out of the woodwork to cultivate a relationship with the guy who will be able to drive sooner rather than later.

And generally, those relationships last until the freshman or young sophomore turns 16. Then, the "bond" that was formed fizzles into nothing and the two students go their separate ways.

C'est la vie. Such is life.

Except, I wonder if we should be so nonchalant about something that is potentially damaging.

Unfortunately, I've actively participated in any number of relationships with lack of pure motives. If I wouldn't benefit, I didn't get involved. And, sometimes, I sought out relationships only because they were beneficial to me.

Ulterior motives are one of the uglier parts of human nature. But those particular motives, even when they're fulfilled, don't satisfy. Most of the time, I think the commands in scripture lean far more to our benefit; God knows human nature. He created it. So when He says, "...whatever is pure...think on these things..." I think it's a it's an admonishment that so much can go wrong when we lean the other direction.

Madeleine L'Engle has been one of the only authors to help me understand the concept of pure motive. In one of her stories (The Time Quartet or A Ring of Endless Light--I'm not sure which), one character asks another when she is most herself. After a moment or two, she responds, "When I'm involved in something else and completely focused on that thing." He, in turn, says, "So you're not thinking about yourself at all. Isn't it funny that when you're not thinking solely about you is when you're most yourself."

When we completely throw ourselves into something for the sake of that something, I think we begin to see glimpses of Jesus reflected in our own countenance. But when we seek only ourselves, that's all we'll ever see.

Slowly, God is drawing my motives, my attitude, my focus back to Himself. He's spent a lot of years letting me wonder in the desert. More than anything, I pray it's been a purifying process. But I'm looking for Canaan across the horizon.

Whatever is Lovely

...Whatever is Pure...

2012-02-07T17:09:00.000-06:00

Start at the beginning

Apparently, I have a little problem with the antonym game. I stared at Philippians 4:8, focused on the word "pure" and then started listing every tainted thing in my life. I think I have a problem. Or this project is definitely drawing my thought life into the light. At this point, I'm going to end up having a nervous breakdown during 7th hour and screaming, "TURN THE LIGHT OFF...IT'S ENOUGH LIGHT ALREADY. IT'S BURNING. I'M MELTING. MELTING."

Ha. Kidding. Just kidding.

A little. (I promise I don't act out scenes from The Wizard of Oz...at least not every day.)

Except for the tainted thing. That's true.

And the most tainted thing in my life? Food.

I started my first diet in 7th grade. In those days, Weight Watchers actually gave you a certain amount of fats, protein, bread, etc. that you could eat in a day. It wasn't the simple "calculate your points" progam Jennifer Hudson is plugging on the tee-vee.

(Speaking of Jennifer Hudson--Wow. Just, wow.)

In high school, I experimented with a variety of ways to lose weight. I would skip meals. Chew gum. Eat only tic tacs. Eat certain types of food. Chew food so I could taste it and spit it out. (Yeah, that sounds really sick, now.)

Into college, I discovered Atkins, Slim Fast and laxatives. All super-healthy approaches to eating well. #heartattackwaitingtohappen

By the time I got married, I knew I needed to do something about my ever-increasing weight. So I started Weight Watchers (POINTS by this time) and walked every day. For an hour. Sometimes longer. And in a 4 week time period, I lost a pound.

Frustrated, I shared my problem with my doctor who got in my face and said, "You're fat because you eat too much." And then? Food became the enemy.

It was difficult to enjoy dinner when I knew I would hate myself for eating it later. Anytime I ate a chocolate, a piece of cake or anything that wasn't a raw carrot stick, I would hear something in my head: "You don't deserve that, Fatty. What's wrong with you that you think you get to eat something like that?"

I fight that taint every day. Food isn't the problem. I am. My body is. And the best lesson I've gotten on purely enjoying food has been from a one-year-old.

PastorJosh's daughter is Chloe, and she is so excited about food. When Favorite and I went out to eat with her (and her family), every time the waitress brought a plate of food, she would say, "Ooooooohhhh....num, num, num."

Everything looked delicious to her. Everything tasted fabulous. And I guarantee she didn't go home and wonder what that sweet potato was going to do to her thighs. She just knew it tasted good, and she enjoyed it.

I know it may sound stupid to you, but I truly pray food doesn't become tainted for her--that she purely enjoys something because it's meant to be enjoyed.

I don't mean this to be a lesson on nutrition, nor do I intend to say that purity is all about enjoyment. But I do think so many things get weighed down with factors that don't even belong in that particular category. Our lives have become an ever-growing Pinterest board. We "pin" issues that may not even belong in a particular category, but those issues impact the way that category functions in our lives.

Maybe instead of embracing a world of issues, we need to stand in defense of a little purity. Might do a world of wonder for our attitudes.

Whatever is Pure Part 2

...Whatever is Right...Part 2

2012-02-06T19:49:00.002-06:00

Start at the beginning

I hate introductions.

I also hate waiting, freezing, dieting, weird hair growth (and not on my head), pimples and the fact that I may never have a biological child. I hate those things deeply. Passionately. And even though I've declared this stupid disease will never own me, I've had days when I stare in the mirror and feel like I'm suffocating under a list of ridiculous symptoms.

I cry. A lot. I feel alone and forgotten. I forget to ask for knowledge, and remember that I wouldn't be able to identify knowledge if it hit me in the face. I feel hopeless. And then? Then, I get very, very angry.

Sometimes, on really bad days, I rant to God. I tell Him that I know He can, so why won't He? I ask Him to direct my path, but rarely believe He actually will. I ask Him to make it stop--whenever and however that's possible.

And that particular attitude follows me into every. single. relationship. It pursues me through my classroom doors. It sits next to me in church. It buckles up in my car on the ride home.

Because no matter how I look on the outside, my heart? Often feels like a dark, ugly shade of gray.

Since my days at U of I (circa 2001), I've working to "take captive every thought" (2 Corinthians 10:5). Beth Moore's Breaking Free was the first indication I even needed to consider my thought life. Eleven years later, I wished I would've processed the lesson in its entirety.

When it comes to "right," it's easy to gloss over the concept of right thinking or right attitudes, but the Bible has a lot to say about our thought lives.

Hebrews tells us that God "judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart" (4:12). Paul reminds us that, in giving, attitude is as important as the gift (2 Corinthians 9:7). We are reminded to put off our old selves and "to be made new in the attitude of your minds" (Ephesians 4:23).

Those few examples are enough evidence to convince me that our focus on something right isn't just supposed to lead to right action. It's supposed to generate right thinking.

I'm not entirely sure that right thinking is always positive thinking, but I know that it is God-centered--in recognition of who He is and what He can do.

Attitude clamps me in manacles. I get my feelings hurt easily. I dwell on those hurts. I pull away and isolate myself to avoid subsequent hurt. And then...then, I think about all the ways I've been wronged. I wallow. I stew. But rarely, if ever, do I consider what is right in the perameters of my mind.

And I desperately need a reminder.

Bad attitudes fester. They become malignant. Without treatment, they will invade every part of life until it's impossible to see any light at the end of any tunnel. In fact, it becomes impossible to see the tunnel at all.

It turns my mind to what I know about Him. That He is good. That I belong to Him. And, I hope, it's the reminder I need to put the effort into taking my thoughts captive so I can finally think "right."

Whatever is Pure

...Whatever is Right...

2012-02-05T19:35:00.001-06:00

Start at the beginning...

When I started this project, I really didn't think about any of the words that would come after "whatever is true." I only knew that in order to meditate on something, I had to write through it. I've stared at the word "right" for two hours now. Two. Hours. And what I've accumulated is a list of things that are not right--which is the polar opposite of any verbage that was supposed to make up the bulk of this post.

I guess it's pretty hard to think about what's right if you can't identify what's wrong, though. And maybe we've spent so much time brushing off or ignoring the wrong that we have no capability to focus on what's right. Half the time, we can't even identify "the wrong."

And by "we"? I mean me.

When I talk about PCOS, I have a difficult time identifying what's actually "wrong" with my body. I no longer suffer from multiple cysts. My ovaries appear to be normal in size. But my body isn't "right." It doesn't function normally.

And forgive me for making the comparison, but I think that's a good portion of what's wrong with the church collective. We know something is wrong, but we seem to have a supremely difficult time identifying what needs to be done to fix the wrong. But rarely do we ever take our focus off what is wrong to see what is right.

I sat with a congregation this morning and listened to the ways Jesus loved (the love we are supposed to be professing) the community at large, and I understood that a good portion of what is wrong is the fact that we don't understand how right love is.

I'm guilty of loving when it's convenient. Often, I'll only love people who are lovable. Sometimes, I love people who are clean. But when it's inconvenient? When people are absolutely unlovable? When they are dirty and smelly and outside of my comfort zone? Well, then I'm less worried about "the right thing" and more worried about my personal effort.

As much as I cringe when I type it, love means putting personal feelings aside and doing the right thing. What is the "right thing"? It means biting sharp tongues and letting what's in the past stay in the past. It means paying debts. It means reaching out even if the effort is on your part alone. But mostly? I think love means truly pursuing all right avenues--not just as they relate to you.

I'm guilty. You are, too. Because love? Is hard. Righteousness? Is hard. Focusing on either of those things? Is supremely difficult.

But we weren't called to do anything in our own strength.

And If love binds us all together in perfect unity, how will that ever be anything but right? (Colossians 3:14).

Whatever is Right Part 2

Show Us Your Life: Single Guy Blake

2012-02-03T07:00:00.000-06:00

This is Blake in his element. He's 20, single and one of the best singers I've ever heard. (And I don't mean best amateur--I mean one of the best. Period.) I met Blake when he was a rascally 3 three year old. We reacquainted ourselves when he was a senior in high school, and now he spends a lot of time with my family because he my cousin's best friend.

Blake is a strong Christian, and one of the funniest guys I know. He laughs easily, acclimates himself to any and all situations and is a generally amiable personality.

He's been a fun addition to our family gatherings, because he randomly breaks into song. If you sing with him, be prepared for him to switch parts a hundred different times. (One time, I moved down to alto so he started singing the melody--in falsetto!) He and my cousin, Jake, sing quite well together; their harmony never gets old.

In his own words, Blake is looking for this type of girl:

"She has got to have a personal relationship with Jesus, after that its pretty much just finding out if we are eye to eye. Jesus is number one in my life and must be in hers, too."

Blake is not your run-of-the-mill guy. He says, "I am probably most known for my sense of humor, but I try to be very thoughtful, kind, and sweet. I really like/enjoy loving people and doing nice things for them. I am very unique and confident in standing out from the crowd."

If you just want to date, though, Blake isn't your guy. He believes the dating/courting relationship is for the purpose of finding his wife. He's not going to play the dating game and break your heart. It's not his M.O. Other deal breakers? Women who don't dress modestly, women who aren't growing in their relationships with Christ, women who aren't encouraging and smokers need not apply.

Otherwise, I believe you'd be pretty blessed to spend time with this guy. If you are interested in contacting Blake, shoot me an email: cryshsmn@aol.com.

...Whatever is Noble Part 2...

2012-02-02T07:00:00.000-06:00

Whatever is Noble Part 1 (links to Whatever is True can be found here, too)

I drove home from class today trying to do a bit of word association in my head. Writing about Truth wasn't nearly as difficult as writing about nobility. That is, until one word hit me smack in the face: upstanding.

Noble human beings and upstanding human beings are basically the same thing, and there's no shortage of those people in my life. In our particular set of circumstances, I've been God-blessed with women who pursued my friendship when I probably would've locked myself in a hole and stayed there.

I thought the most difficult thing I would ever face would be infertility. Then, we dealt with loss. I know I'm all broken record about those experiences, but that's because I've never been in a situation that left me so void.

When it happened, I didn't know how I was going to face students in the classroom, because there were two weeks of school left before summer vacation. Thankfully, I have an understanding administrator who knew something was very, very wrong. Those two weeks at work were hazy. I stepped away from civilization. I didn't socialize. I didn't celebrate summer vacation. I pretended that nothing was happening when students were not in my classroom.

Except I couldn't seem to shake my friend, Morgan.

My first day back at school, she sought me out and just hugged me. She didn't say anything, and even though she's not a touchy-feely person, she must've held me for a good ten minutes. As summer months passed and we found ourselves back in school, she found simple ways to encourage me in my rut--a dinner invitation, a stop by my classroom, a joke.

Into the spring semester of the following year, she was blessed enough to be expecting her first child. Because this was such a difficult road to navigate, I assumed we would talk less. Our close relationship would fall victim to circumstance, and that would have to be OK because some things are just beyond my control.

Not Morgan. She became an example of graciousness in my life--celebrating her pregnancy on one hand, while offering subtle support to someone who struggled to reconcile happiness and grief. Though I have been around my fair share of obnoxious women, Morgan never made it on that list. She seemed purposefully aware that I was happy for her, but struggling with my own set of circumstances. And she never pushed the issue.

My first pregnancy and infant loss awareness day, she left a sweet gift. It's on the credenza in my living room, and everytime I see it, I'm reminded of the graciousness of others. To date, she has never forgotten pregnancy and infant loss awareness day: she always makes time to let me know she's thinking of me.

And on particularly tough days (even now--I have a whole story about struggling through grad school!), she always seems to find her way to my classroom with an idea for dinner or some smart alec comment.

To me, that's the perfect example of an upstanding human being--one who sees others and cares about them so deeply, s/he cannot ignore the situation.

She would never admit that she's done these things. It's not in her nature to accept praise. But her example will ring true with me anytime I find myself rich and sitting with someone who is poor.

It's about living together and giving to one another. That's the essence of true excellence of character and the definition of noble.

Whatever Is Right

...Whatever is Noble...

2012-02-01T07:00:00.000-06:00

Whatever is True Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

I have no difficulty picturing nobility. I have significant difficulty putting words to that picture. Essentially, "noble" is "of an exalted moral or mental character or excellence."

On a daily basis, I see students who come from desperately broken homes. I don't mean they are children of divorce. I mean they live in homes with people who cannot even spell the word functional. I see addiction in a hundred different forms--drug abuse, alcohol, cutting, etc. I see unplanned pregnancy and uneducated choices. I see people who are hurting and without resources.

But despite all of those things, I think the best part of me comes as the result of my students. They will teach if people are willing to learn. They will show if we are willing to see. And they will definitely talk if we are willing to listen.

At the beginning of the year, I gave every class their choice of writing prompts. Every prompt comes back to the same basic principle: tell me about yourself. One of the prompts asked students to explain something they were learning/had learned. I almost choked on my coffee when I read one response (my paraphrase despite the quotes):

"This year, I'm learning about humility. My dad says it's a lifetime process, but I really want to learn what I can about being humble now."

At fifteen, she gets it, and I think that's excellence of character at its best.

I've watched her since that day in August, and I've noticed a couple of other things about her character. She consistently treats others with dignity and kindness. She takes responsibility for her mistakes, owns the consequences of those mistakes and continuously asks for forgiveness or pardon.

She's fifteen, and I want to be her when I grow up.

I don't know what she will accomplish when she is 30. I do know that God is using her now. Because she aspires to moral excellence, He is taking her down roads most of us don't navigate for another 5-10 years. Does it mean she's reached perfection? Unlikely. And also unnecessary. God doesn't ask for perfection; He asks for a willing heart.

And if a willing heart isn't noble, I don't know what is.

Whatever Is Noble Part 2

Whatever is True...Part 3

2012-01-31T07:00:00.000-06:00

Part 1

Part 2

Christianity has been no picnic for me. I suspect that when you believe anything wholeheartedly, it demands more of you than you imagined possible. At least, that's the way it's worked for me. Since I never really have been the type of person to accept life based on someone else's experience, my picnic was interrrupted by any number of natural disasters and unexpected visitors.

From a young age, I really struggled with legalism. It was an issue in my denomination so it wasn't any wonder I grew up believing Christianity meant women wore skirts to church, everyone voted Republican and the really dedicated drove a GM product. Into my teens, I found myself pitying those who weren't as good as I was. I was better because of the list of things I didn't do, and I honestly believed I deserved praise for all the effort I was expending on behalf of God Almighty. My reward was going to be great, I reasoned.

Then, Christianity became unsatifactory--less than fulfilling. I was missing something, but I couldn't pinpoint the cause of the disconnect. Most of the requirements from my early church days went out the door--they didn't seem necessary to living a life pleasing to Christ. I began asking questions: "What does it mean to live like a Christian?"

I learned a lot about worship in those days. My college friends were largely Christians who were asking the same types of questions I was, so I found our relationships challenging and edifying. Two of those people would be the catalysts that ignited a fire in my body to know the living Christ I professed.

Thanks to my friend, Janna, I learned large sections of Isaiah 61, and truly believed God could bind up the broken hearted. I developed a real prayer relationship with my Saviour, but still believed that Christians fit into a particular mold--without that shape, the person couldn't be a Christian, right?

Fast forward about ten years: Favorite and I found ourselves at the bottom of a black hole. We looked as good as we possibly could--church every Sunday, Bible Study, Praise and Worship, Sunday School, service projects--but inside? We were broken people. We had no reasonable idea of how to dig our way back to the surface through our devastation. So, we did the only thing we knew to do: gritted our teeth and went through the motions of regular life.

For months, we floundered. We looked for any encouragement and found ourselves faced with criticism we couldn't handle on top of the devastation we had faced. Frustrated and tired, Favorite told me one Sunday, "No more church. I can't do church anymore." His statement wasn't a shock. Sundays had been little more than argument days for months, and sermons consisted of suggestions like "fake it til you make it." We just couldn't fake it anymore.

Exhausted, I prayed two sentences a few nights a week with no hope that my prayer was being answered: "Where are you, God? Show Yourself to us."

Morning came. We got up, went about our day. The sun went down and we went to sleep and the process started over. It wasn't until months later that I could see God's sustaining hand in my life at all. The fact that I was finally able to get up and function may not seem like a miracle to anyone else, but for me? It was answered prayer. God was showing Himself.

In recent months, someone hoped we would find and hear the Truth. So this? Is the Truth:

Christians don't always have it together. I rarely have to have it together. I'm still learning to rely on a God who will show Himself powerful when I'm not sure I can walk again. He is capable of redeeming the worst of sinners--I know that from personal experience. No amount of rule following, happy facing or serving will get any of us any closer to Heaven. Lip service isn't necessary, because we've been set free from all of that nonsense (Galatians 5:1).

More than anything, the Truth is that Christ came so we could live an abundant life (John 10:10). He came to destroy the molds that give us any indication that we are "better" or "different" (Galatians 3:28). But most importantly, Jesus came for the poor, the brokenhearted, the captive, those who mourn, those who have been shamed and those who have been devasted (Isaiah 61).

He loves you...just as you are--no molds, no lip service. And He'll meet you there.

That's the Truth.

Whatever Is Noble Part 1

Whatever Is True (Part 2)

2012-01-30T08:01:00.001-06:00

Read Part 1

Whatever is True Part 3

Whatever Is True

2012-01-29T18:54:00.001-06:00

For the new year, my congregation has been focusing on Philippians chapter 4. PastorJosh has encouraged us to memorize this passage and meditate on the Truth in it. As we read that passage collectively in morning worship, my stomach fluttered with recognition over verse 8:

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.

I'd like to write to each of these themes--not just because they are some valuable parts of my life, but because I want my mind to gravitate to the true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent and praiseworthy in life. (And couldn't we all use a few more of those things?)

Here's something true:

Favorite and I attended four years of high school together without speaking. He was a jock; I wasn't. Our crowds didn't attend the same sorts of events. He maintains that we spoke once at a party during high schoo. I remind him that party was at McClain's house and it was a post-graduation party. I'm not even entirely sure said exchange happened. Clearly it meant more to him (*wink*).

College took us separate directions. He went to a small school about two hours away from our home town while I stayed to attend community college. Because he was a home town football hero (on a team that couldn't win a game), my parents became familiar with his plans to play football at his small school.

When my mom and dad were young, my dad had a fairly impressive car. (I don't recall the make or the model, but they tell fond stories of its impressiveness?...impressivosity?) Because the car was black and red, my mother crocheted a matching afghan for my father to keep in the car on the what-I-assume-to-be leather seats.

They kept that afghan until they learned Favorite was attending a school and the colors were black and red--the same colors of the afghan. Without my knowledge, that afghan passed into the hands of Favorite's mother so she would have something to use during the football season.

He played for one year and then returned home to attend the university near our small town. I finished my degree at community college and then transferred to the University of Illinois to pursue a degree in advertising.

I was dating someone seriously during my tenure at U of I, but we briefly broke up sometime during the spring semester. Devastated, I called my mother. "You know, I was talking to Sherri (Favorite's mother) today, and she said Chris is interested in taking you on a date." Since I was angry, I told Mom I would be glad to go on the date. "Set it up" were my last words.

That date never happened. Boyfriend and I reconciled, and when I transferred back to the local university, my relationship was intact.

But not for long.

That summer I found myself single and no longer looking. The previous relationship had a few issues (I won't be sharing them on my blog. What's done is done.), and I really thought it was a good idea to embrace singleness for a bit of time.

Which lasted for about six months. Then, there was the rebound. The rebound also will not be discussed, didn't last a long time, and ended at my choice.

LilBro was wrestling for hometown high at this point, and my friend, Kate, and I decided to make an appearance at the invitational. Oddly enough, Favorite, who was also a high school wrestler, was helping run the tournament.

Just before I had to leave to go to work, Favorite sauntered his arrogant self across the gym to strike up a conversation. I don't remember what we said, but it couldn't have been important. I didn't understand why a guy I'd never spoken to in school would want to speak now.

When he walked away, Kate looked and me and said, "That man is your husband."

I've had some surreal moments in my life, but this one will go down in history. I looked at her with no response. What would I have said?

The next day was SuperBowl Sunday. I had to work after church, and had been working at Walmart for a few months. At two o'clock, I was a little confused when I saw Favorite saunter (he did that a lot) by the jewelry counter. Again, he started a conversation.

We agreed to meet for dinner near the university the next day. He was 20 minutes late, and it was the most horrific date in history.

But somehow...here we are. That was ten years ago.

We were engaged three months later and married after a year long engagement.

Our marriage has had its fair share of vomit-inducing workouts, and we aren't the same idealistic people we were when we said "I do." Thankfully, he taught me what it is to love someone else--not perfectly, and definitely not blindly.

But Favorite? Is true. And what we have is true. And I think that's worth a moment.

(Oh, and my mother-in-law still has that afghan. It's still in my family. Who knew a piece of history between my Mom and Dad would also become a piece of our history?)

Whatever Is True Part Two

Less of Me (and Not Because I Lost Weight)

2012-01-24T17:31:00.000-06:00

On Sunday, PastorJosh posed a question: "What stuff are you worshipping? Who is the steward of your life?"

Automatically, my eyes snapped to attention. "I can't ignore him," I thought as he lined out the areas of perspective, priorities and personal choices. When he read those, my mind focused on food and family--few hints of God in very many of those places for me. "I know I need to hear this, but things are hard now. When things aren't so difficult, I'll be more focused on worship and more dedicated to seeking God. He'll get to that part of the sermon."

He never got to that part of the sermon, ya'll. I might be going out on a limb here, but I'm pretty sure that part of the sermon never existed.

After the service, Favorite and I caught PastorJosh and his family at a restaurant. We told him that it was a difficult sermon to hear, but one we felt really spoke to some issues in our own lives. PastorJosh looked at the ground and said, "I don't have this part figured out either. I get really busy and let myself get distracted."

His admission is humbling and encouraging--not because he screws up, but because he knows that we're all on equal playing ground. None better. None worse. "But for the grace of God go I" sort of thinking.

I think God is really speaking to me about judgment and pretentious behavior. Were it not for Him? My life would be a walking testament to bad decisions and worse priorities. More education, more money, bigger houses, better cars, popularity--those things don't change who or what we are: sinners gifted grace.

I don't want to forget who I am in the improvement process. Losing weight, getting pregnant, building a house or buying a nicer car won't change God, and ultimately, those things really only change my outside appearance, and, sometimes, the way others view me. But for real change to take place, I need perspective: Allowing God to become more instead of less even as I seek solutions to issues I'm facing. I need to spend less time on me, me, me.

(Speaking of spending less time focusing on self, head over here and read one girl's adventures in reducing her selfishness by challenging herself to a weekly random act of kindness. I love that it encompasses everything PastorJosh told us on Sunday about perspective, priorities and personal choices.)

To Feel vs. To Know

2012-01-23T19:32:00.000-06:00

What I know is often overshadowed by what I feel. I'm not sure if that makes the crazy/hot scale true, or if that's just the joy of living life with estrogen. Either way points me in the direction of this "female-ness" I've been dealt. Sometimes it's just hard to be a girl.

Today, I don't feel well. I feel tired and frustrated, and those feelings call reinforcements so that every single frustration I have felt rears its ugly head in the hours I've spent trying to lift my head off this couch. All of those frustrations lead to one over-arching feeling: failure. That's how I feel despite what I know.

Next month, Favorite and I will have been working on a family for seven years. This month, I will have been trying to lose weight for four years. May, we'll be married for nine years. Today, I still don't quite get what it is to love him the way I should. Yesterday I was reminded that I'm fourteen years into the exact same lessons I started at the beginning of this Christian journey.

Always feeling. Always forgetting. Trying to remind myself: God is good. And not in that congregation-repeats-"All the time"-and-then-says, "All the time, God is good" sort-of-way.

BigBro wrote to me once, "Some people say that faith is the absence of doubt. I don't think that's true. Faith is believe in the face of doubt because we know He is faithful." What I wonder is when taking thoughts captive becomes easier business?

Typically, infertility does not define who I am. It does not rule my day or change my purpose. I feel pangs as the result of its presence in my life, but it is rarely the one thing I think about all day long. Buford Betty summed it up best:

Infertility makes you feel like less of a woman. I mean gosh, the one thing I should be able to do as a woman, I can't freaking do. And it doesn't just affect me... I've got a husband who wants to be a dad. I've got parents who are dying to be grandparents. Sometimes I can't help but feel guilty for making everyone around me wait. I've seen infertility kill marriages and friendships. And I totally get why. I think some women dealing with it just completely lose themselves in the anger and depression. I don't ever want to be that person, but I certainly understand how someone could get there. I think I generally have a great attitude about the whole thing. There are lots of bloggers out there who blog about infertility. Their whole blogs are dedicated to infertility. There are a few good ones, but most of them I find depressing. They seem to encompass this very "woe is me" outlook and I don't want any part of that. Infertility in no way defines me... it's just something I'm dealing with. So while I like to update y'all on our progress and sometimes vent here and there on my issues with it, it's not all I'm about. It's not what I want to be known for.

I get her. I don't want to be "woe is me" either, but sometimes living the truth means living these moments where feelings and faith collide.

I don't doubt Him. I don't love Him less than I did two years ago. Sometimes, when I feel a little much, I just wonder where His purpose is and it it isn't more evident more often.

Stupid Inantimate Objects

2012-01-23T10:18:00.000-06:00

When I went to bed last night, I was fine.

Sunday was a productive day. I cooked a few meals for lunch this week. I did some laundry. I did some reading. I refilled the Keurig. I reorganized the laundry room area. I ordered some organizational tools for the dresser in the laundry room. I thought about sweeping. I thought about hiring someone to sweep and mop every other week or so.

Suffice it to say this: I was on the ball.

When I woke up at 3 AM, I had developed some sort of funk. My throat is raw and scratchy. My head won't stop hurting and other parts of my body insist on leaking things that shall not be discussed on the interwebs.

It's clear that I have, somehow, pissed my bed off and it's now sharing diseases that spontaneously take up residence in the human body.

The lesson we've all learned here is don't fight with inantimate objects. You never come out on top.

On Being Thick-Skinned

2012-01-21T14:24:00.000-06:00

A coworker of mine faced a less than pleasing situation this week that left her bugged up and freaking out. Favorite has always told me that if you're right, there's no need to convince others. Rest in the fact that you know you're right; don't worry about proving it. I shared this insight with her and then encouraged her to develop a thicker skin. She responded, "I'm not like you."

I told her that developing thick skin generally requires lots of situations in which things don't go as planned. And my life? Rarely goes as planned. But in the last two years, I've really been learning what it is not to seek the approval of others.

Despite my hardcore facade, I'm not much on confrontation. By nature, I'm an avoider, because I just don't like dealing with the unsatisfactory. Sometimes the unsatisfactory follows me, though.

Take for instance, a past issue at work. It wouldn't have mattered if I was the most qualified teacher on the face of the planet. I could've earned five hundred awards from prestigious institutions all over the world, but due to the nature of the issue, I still would have faced the problems I faced. Eventually, I had to get comfortable with the fact that some people will think what they think, and they are welcome to their own opinions. Does it make those opinions right? No. But it's also not my job to convert the masses...and chances are pretty good no conversion was going to take place on my watch anyway.

I've encountered people who have chosen me as the focal point of anger when several other people have done the exact same thing I did. Do you know how frustrating that is? Were our actions wrong? (I'm using the plural since they were collective actions.) No. They just weren't the decisions the other person preferred we make. Why did that person focus on me? No idea. Maybe the person felt more comfortable directing his/her anger in my direction. Maybe s/he knew I could handle it. Maybe s/he liked me less than everyone else in the group?

These experiences have left me on the other side with a couple of options. I can get my panties in a ruffle about all the people who don't like me. (And I have. OH, believe me.) Or I can quit being so sensitive about the stupidity I can't control.

For the most part, I've chosen the latter. Forgive me when I say that I don't much care if you don't like me. I wish it could be different. I would've worked to make sure our interactions were pleasant ones--especially if I felt like you were also working for pleasantness. Believe it or not, I really wanted things between us to be good, because I know there are a lot of great things that can come out of relationships with others. But I know that the only attitude I can control is mine. So if you dislike me, feel free to waste your time and energy doing it and telling other people how awful I am. I have other things to be concerned about.

On the other hand, there is this small (teeny-tiny) group of people who generally manage to ruffle my feathers--mostly because I love them. Because I want them to know me. Because I want them to see me. When things go wrong on those fronts, I totally get the paranoia and the lack of thick skin my coworker has developed. But even in those situations, the only reaction I can control is mine. Do I always get it right? I'd say I manage about 15% of the time. The other 85%, I get my feelings hurt and react accordingly.

And, eventually, some of the people who ruffle my feathers end up transferring to the group that doesn't register on my radar based on reaction alone.

It's not the way I'd want it, but I can't spend my life seeking approval from people who will hold it over my head just to watch me jump for it. Instead, I've chosen to live my life as best as I can. (God knows I'm pretty much a failure at that, too.) Beyond that, I don't have enough time to worry about why you don't like me. I'd be glad to apologize over my wrong doing. But I'm not going to waste time trying to anticipate and deconstruct every.single.look.

On Why It's Hard to Write a Blog About Nothing

2012-01-20T09:46:00.001-06:00

I've said before that I started this blog to chronicle a weight loss journey that failed before it really began. I guess that's what I intended it to be--a weight loss blog. Then, I wrote a little about Christianity and how it affects my life, and occasionally, I would throw a blurb or two in about education and what it's like to be a teacher. What I've never done? Chosen one subject and married this blog to it. I'm the Seinfeld of the blog world.

I'm a show I never watched, but, ironically, expect people to read. How's that for honesty?

I envy some of the bloggers I follow. Kelly is a Mommy-Blogger. Young House Love has that DIY thing down to an art. Andi lures people in with her 165 lb weight loss and keeps them with recipes and anecdotes about living and eating. But me? I ramble about what socks I'm wearing or why I'm the hillbilly of grad school. Clearly, I've got compelling down to an art.

Sometimes I'm jealous of those other blogs--not because I feel like what I say isn't as important, but because I feel like they understand what they want to say a little better than I do. People follow because you know exactly the tenor of John and Sherry's posts, Andi's musings and Kelly's pictures.

So it doesn't surprise me that I get followers and then lose them. After all, what of substance are you getting here? And yet, something in me says that Weight-loss-PCOS-Dealin'-Christian-Living-Students-Learnin'-School-Lesson-Planning-Whining-Reading-Freaking-Out-House-Building-Improving-Distaster-Dealin'-With-A-Freak-Side-Show-of-Infertility has to be at least as amusing as the Soup Nazi. Right? Right?

I tried to narrow the topics. Talk about one thing consistently. Focus on a single subject. My conclusion? Ain't happenin'. The truth is this: This is my life. It's ordinary and hilarious and full of unexpected forays into, well, the unexpected. I can't do singular, because ~~circumstances hate me~~ that isn't my life, and anything less than honest ruins my declaration that I will live Christianity as honestly as possible in the hope of blessing one person.

If you consider my sad, sad dependence on the internet blessing.

Just Another Manic...Thursday?

2012-01-19T19:10:00.000-06:00

Today was my last observation before tenure. I don't post-eval with my administrator until next week, but (*I think*) the lesson went well. My students deserve a Golden Globe for their performances in class. I feel like saying that means they were putting on an act for the admin, but the truth is they are that way most of the time. I'm telling you: my students this year make me rejoice in my job as a teacher. On most days, I love them all to pieces.

I spent the rest of the day trying to figure out how to root my Nook Tablet so I could download Android Apps--including the Kindle App. I was told that the textbook for my (grad) class (number 2! for those of you keeping track) wasn't available on the Nook, and I knew this would be a cheaper route. Hence, the rooting. Turns out, the book IS available on the Nook which means that I'm a sucker for not double checking information before I just accept it from another resource. Jerks. Uninformed, non-tech-savvy jerks. (And an apology to Morgan since she thinks I told her she's dumb in the lounge today. Not my intent, Morgan. Not my intent. But I love you. You and Kerry. And Schmeig. Who will always be Schmeig. I think I'm getting off topic.)

Speaking of class (Please acknowledge my beautiful segue way), this semester promises to be MUCH easier than last semester. And by MUCH I mean the difference between me and a marathon runner. This class requires a total of 8 pages of writing--due in 2 page increments four separate times. It's a pretty big turn around from my 25 page monstrosity last semester.

Despite the fact that this semester will be easier, I'm still the hillbilly in higher education. No risk of me becoming the pretentious jerk who thinks that more time at a desk makes her better than people who didn't pursue college. Actually, the further I go in education, the more I realize how blessed I am to have the opportunity to learn more.

There's actually a guy at my church with a doctorate who refuses to allow others to call him "doctor" and has no sense of uppity (it's a super-technical term) what-so-ever. Wouldn't the world be a better place if everyone thought that way? Part of "teacher" makes me think that I have a responsibility to others...and that responsibility doesn't include looking down my nose at those who are less educated than me. Particularly when most of those people have schooled me in a hundred different ways. (Mostly about Christian living. I'm a slow learner. Really. Really. Slow.)

Anyway, that's my Thursday. Sitting at home, downloading books, missing Favorite and thanking God he'll be home tomorrow. What do you think about education? Are you pursuing it? Do you think higher ed is for pretentious jerks? Give me some feedback.

MidWeek Confessions: 1/18/2012

2012-01-18T08:55:00.001-06:00

* My class begins tonight. It wasn't the class I had planned to take, or even a class I had signed up for until last night. But it's a class, and hopefully it won't be too taxing. It might even have the added bonus of benefitting our RTI team or the PSAE committee with prep ideas.

* Class may get over soon enough for me to attend my church small group. Here's hoping.

* I ordered a mustard yellow sweater, and I lllluuuuuurrrrrrvvvvvvveeeeee it. I am wearing it today with a navy blue shirt, but I'd really like to find an eggplant colored shirt to wear with it in the future. How could anyone be sad and wear yellow?

* The search for the perfect flat continues. Maybe this weekend I shall be blessed with shoes from the heavens. (Ha. I just made finding the perfect shoe a divine experience.)

* Favorite is leaving for the next couple days due to a death in the family. I can't go because 1. we can't afford plane tickets for both of us ($500!!!), and 2. I can't take that much time from work. Please pray for this loss. Randy was younger than my parents and suffered a massive heart attack days after his first grandchild was born. His family is hurting.

* Bible study, church and friends are really encouraging me to live where I am. (Yes. It's another lesson I should've gotten when I was 15. The irony of teaching vs. learning isn't lost on me.) Frankly, that simple lesson is really helping me complete the day to day without feeling like it's mundane or useless. (Why keep making the bed/loading the dishwasher/sweeping the floor, etc.) It's helped with the whole Weight Watchers thing, too. Instead of looking down the road a year, I'm looking at today. And, obviously, that keeps me from borrowing a lot of trouble. It's a much more peaceful way of living. Scout's honor. (But I was never a scout. So take it for what it's worth.)

* Today for lunch: Sauteed brussel sprouts with slivered almonds and a bit of parmesan. Main dish: Mushroom/Quinoa burgers with dijon mustard.

Happy Wednesday.

The One Where I Realize I'm The Moron

2012-01-17T19:28:00.000-06:00

Today, I realized I'm a complete and total moron.

I highlighted all possible classes scheduled for this semester, because I couldn't take anything offered on Tuesdays or Thursdays. I needed a Monday or a Wednesday class. Thankfully, I found an open Wednesday class and signed up.

Tonight, I came home, checked my schedule so I would know where I was going tomorrow and realized the class I registered for? Is offered on Tuesday. Not Wednesday.

So after a trip into town and a pretty obvious panic attack, I have reregistered for a class in Curriculum and Development, because all of the English classes on Monday or Wednesday are full.

But it's a class on reading, and that could benefit an English teacher, right? Even an English teacher who clearly cannot read?

A Mess of Unraveled Yarn

2012-01-16T18:40:00.002-06:00

I've spent most of today with a half-formed blog post in my mind while I successfully avoided grading the papers I promised myself I would grade while I was home. I'm nothing if not a talented procrastinator. It's a spiritual gift, really, and I think we should embrace our spiritual gifts.

(Note the sarcasm that translates poorly without its own, specialized font.)

The last question of our Bible study (James: Mercy Triumphs) this week, in context, was this:

The NASB translates [Acts 15:25], "It seemed good to us, having become of one mind, to select men to send to you." Few things testify to the presence and power of Christ more vividly than two garlic-strong mind-sets melding into one. Ephesians 2:14-18 plays the piercing melody beneath the harmony of the letter to the Gentile believers. [These verses indicate Jesus Christ is the means of their peace.] How have you personally experience this peace?

Peace is always a difficult one for me. Salvation? That I get. Grace? I can embrace it tolerably well on special holidays. But peace? That's one I can't quite fit in my personal lidded tupperware--even the flexible kind. And my answer to that question is problematic. But before I can explain that, here's my answer:

In our current situation, the peace comes from the promise that this will glorify Him. I am not always on board with what's going on. I'm not always the biggest cheerleader for events in my own life. But I know He is good. And I know He will be glorified. And whatever the outcome, I can rest in that.

The problematic part of this answer comes in the form of unraveled yarn. There's no tidying it. It can't be used for a project. It's just here, and when I look at it, it looks so completely wasteful. My heart doesn't embrace it at all, but it embraces the only One who can do anything with it.

When I think peace, I think of people who are comfortable no matter the outcome. People like Paul--to live is Christ and to die is gain. But I'm not Paul, and someday I really want to ask him if he penned those words to convince himself or if he truly believed them at that point.

I'm not comfortable with just any outcome. My heart aches for a family. Even when I try to convince myself that disposible income and travelling at a moment's notice are incredible alternatives, I know in my heart that this house was built for life and my heart was shaped to love those lives.

I pray that our situation will change. For miracles. For continued hope and blessing in the waiting. But I've never embraced it. Welcomed it. Sat down with it to get comfortable. Mostly? Because I will never be on board with this mess of unraveled yarn.

But I am on board with Him. Any sense of peace in my heart and home doesn't come from a comfortability in this situation, but rather a comfortability in God's continued ability to glorify Himself. That's where I rest. That's where I find peace--even when I wish for an alternative.

On the previous page, something Beth had written really impressed me:

Afer all our discord, clash, and clamor, we will one day worship in the presence of the One who orchestrated the perfect symphony of two different testaments and, more impressively, a host of clay instruments (36).

For me, one day is now. I'm learning to worship Him amid the discord of circumstances, and I'm choosing to remember He is so totally worth it.

Ballet Flats

2012-01-15T16:50:00.000-06:00

I'm a big fan of heels, but there's nothing like a cute pair of flats to make an outfit. I've been looking for a new pair of flats since my dog has about killed my old pair. Death by licking.

Thing is, I can't find anything I like more than these:

Source

These are Toms new ballet flats. First of all I love the look of the shoes, but the biggest selling point is the fact that a child in need gets a pair of shoes for every pair purchased. I know it probably doesn't work this way, but the idea of some little girl wearing a cute pair of ballet flats warms my heart.

Problem? These haven't been released yet.

So I continue to search for the perfect pair of flats while longing for Toms to get it together and release these already.

#BlogFail

2012-01-13T15:19:00.001-06:00

My last several posts have been about food. Remember when I wasn't so boring?

I've always been this boring? #blogfail

I would commit to doing better, but I seem to have little to talk about these days. My life is surrounded by food and laundry and church and students. And while each of those things is amusing in its own right, it makes for less than hilarious blog reading if I can't relay said hilariousness. Instead, there shall be lists.

1. Lentil stew=epic fail. It was gross. Won't be making that mistake again.

2. I went to a church focus meeting last Saturday with my mom and my aunt, and I'm impressed at the number of people who are determined to live Christianity authentically. (You know, scabs and all.) I learned that most of the people from this church are recent additions, like myself, and really just want to live Jesus. I've struggled with that concept my whole life, because when you come from a fairly legalistic background, it's difficult to wrap your mind around freedom. I've known Galatians 5:1 for years, but the actual concept of freedom is difficult to articulate and even more difficult to enact. But now? Now I'm surrounded by a group of people who are willing to wrestle with it. Struggle with it. Turn it on its side and look at it from a different angle. It seems few of them are concerned with form, and almost every one of them desires function. It makes me want to see people--really see them. I think that's when they become interested in Jesus--when they know they are seen.

3. I opted not to join other members of the congregation for a fast this month. For me, it wouldn't have been about sacrifice and spiritual focus. It would have been weight loss. Plain and simple. And I don't want to cheapen it.

4. I love my 7th hour. Love. They have been my favorite class since the beginning of the year. However, recent events are throwing a wrench into the works. Today? It was wretched. Absolutely and totally wretched. Now, Tuesday will consist of a sincere talk with the entire class so I can hopefully recover the awesome dynamic from last semester.

Happy Weekend.

Not a Bad Day

2012-01-12T11:05:00.001-06:00

Due to an issue with a boiler, I am off work today. Unexpected, but pleasant. I am also pleasantly pleased to enjoy my new router and wireless internet :) I'm not saying you can't live without the internet (clearly, we're pretty spoiled here in the US), but once you get used to something, it's difficult to live without it.

So today, I will be cruising Pinterest:

I will also be deep conditioning my hair, grading papers, doing some general cleaning, and spending time in Bible study. Not a bad day if I do say so myself :)

MidWeek Confessions--1/11/12

2012-01-11T10:05:00.002-06:00

* Weight Watchers is...easier this time around? (You know, for the whole two days I've stayed on it.) I think maybe because I'm committed to cooking and it isn't about getting as much food for as few points as possible. I don't really much worry about those points except to stay in the limit I've been given for the day. If I eat something for lunch, I just track it. If I only have 10 points left for supper, I do try to keep portion sizes small. But I've found I'm less hungry in the evenings so it isn't as big of a deal.

* Tonight? Lentil Stew with Cornbread Dumplings. It's a crockpot recipe, so I have little prep. (BigAl, I'm sending the recipe tonight! I want to try it first so I can tell you what I think.)

* Cooking every evening was a bit ambitious for a couple of reasons. 1. My fridge was overflowing with leftovers. I was taking them for lunch and Favorite was eating, but we still couldn't keep up. 2. I don't get home until 6 on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so cooking on Tuesday nights may not happen.

* I love my classes this year. Love. Them. They want to talk about what we're doing, and I think conversation is the best way to learn, so I'm happy to comply. Mostly, I just enjoy their personalities. (Even when they tell me I'm old. Or I'm letting myself go. Or my makeup could use some work.)

* I'm the worst laundry lady ever. Ever.

* Sometimes, even when I've committed to saying as little as possible about an issue, I end up running my mouth. It doesn't help. It makes others view me in a bad light, and it makes me less than happy with myself. Most of the time, I talk out of frustration. But I hate that I can't just close my mouth when I'm frustrated.

* I broke my resolution to watch my mouth a couple of times this week. But most notably? This morning...when an 8-point buck was standing 4 feet from my car as I drove by and I didn't see him until I didn't have time to stop. First I said it. Then I had to keep myself from doing it.

Join MidWeek Confessions by clicking the above button. And if you're interested, let me know what it is you want.

What Do You Want?

2012-01-10T18:59:00.000-06:00

I have a student who regularly tells me I'm old.

Before you start planning his funeral, know that 1. he does it to be funny; 2. it's a mutual thing between us (I don't tell him he's old, because I can't. But I do have my own fair share of comebacks.); 3. he's one of my very favorite students.

Despite the "jokey" nature of these exchanges, I would be lying if I told you they never bothered me. As my BigBro likes to remind me when it comes to teasing about age, "It bothers you more than it bothers me."

It's really not the age that bothers me. I'm 31. I don't feel 31. I don't think I look 31. (The Wii probably thinks I'm 60, so no help there.) But there was something specific I had pictured for this age--a bit of expectation if you will.

I don't want to lie. There are no pretty conclusions to tie up in a pretty bow with this post. There's just this longing to experience. By 31, I thought my experience would be a bit more broad. Instead, there's me: constantly changing directions, never quite knowing what it looks like, never completely comfortable with the status quo. Me. Making circles in the sand.

Case-in-point? I love teaching. But I didn't even pursue my degree in English until I was 25. In college, I pursued broadcast journalism, not because I wanted it, but because I thought that was the talent I had. When the wind changed, I switched to Advertising, moved to U of I and almost hyperventilated because of the change.

See? I long for change--for experience--and then I freak out and hide from it. This is why aging scares me. Thirty-one has no particular significance. Just a reminder that I'm not as young as I once was, and in another blink, I'll be 50.

But what I wonder is what is the one thing you really want to experience right now? At this age, at this time, what did you really want for yourself? I truly want to hear from you. I'll save mine for another post.

Revelations at the Stove

2012-01-09T18:25:00.000-06:00

I did something I swore I wasn't going to do this year. I joined Weight Watchers. Again. I think I was prompted by this dedication to eating better--and I don't mean that as a health-conscious thing. I mean eating better--better food, a more enjoyable process, things that taste good.

In the last three weeks or so, I've realized there is a long list of foods that I don't really like, but eat anyway. Anything from McDonald's, for example. Or steamed broccoli. (LOVE it roasted. But steamed vegetables are usually a little soggy and kinda gross.) Or pizza rolls. Or grilled chicken. ::shivers:: I'm not sure why I spent so much time eating those things, but I know thinking about it disgusts me--mostly because of the sheer quantities I've put in my body.

(Disclaimer: I am not a photographer. I am especially not a food photographer. I don't much care to be a photographer, either. I put pictures up for my pleasure and as proof that something did actually take place in my kitchen.)

This is Sweet and Spicy Stuffed Chicken with Potato/Turnip/Cauliflower Mash and Roasted Broccoli. According to to the meal plan, I was supposed to eat the chicken with orange glazed sugar snap peas and carrots, but I got a real craving for broccoli tonight. So I changed the plan.

And you know what? It was fantastic. The whole meal was 19 points of amazing. And I refuse to be upset that the meal cost that many points. Instead, I've learned that this particular meal should only be paired with zero points vegetables instead of another recipe that adds points to the mix. (The potato and butter in the mash actually up the point value quite a bit. In the future, I'll add more cauliflower and turnip so it serves more with fewer added points.)

But I feel a sense of accomplishment here. Not because I've spent one day on a program, but because I'm taking back something I love and learning to own it in a way that keeps me from constantly looking over my shoulder.

The idea of "taking back" has had me thinking about the schedule that ticks in my head. You know--the one that tells me I'm behind on so many things. As long as we get there, does it really matter how long the journey takes?

I know. Rocket science. It's the reason you come here, isn't it?

I'll try to slow down on my revelations so everyone can keep up :)

Menu Planning--1/7/2012 thru 1/19/2012

2012-01-07T19:38:00.004-06:00

One of my New Year resolutions is to cook more so I thought menu planning would be a good way to make that happen. Here's the plan for the next two weeks:

Monday, 1/9/2012--Sweet and Spicy Stuffed Chicken with orange-glazed carrots and sugar snap peas (and likely potato/cauliflower/turnip mash or even roasted broccoli as I'm trying to work more veggies into my diet)

Tuesday, 1/10/2012--Chicken and Dumplings (recipe from All You magazine)--includes pearl onions, carrots, celery and peas with parmesan-butternut squash gratin

Wednesday, 1/11/2012--Slow Cooker Lentil Stew with Cornbread Dumplings (plan to eat this meal with roasted broccoli)

Thursdays and Fridays are days with Favorite. We will either eat at home or eat out, but I don't want to plan for those days so we can spend time together.

Monday, 1/15/2012--Mushroom-Quinoa Burgers with Roasted broccoli and Potato/Cauliflower/Turnip Mash

Tuesday, 1/16/2012--Sunny Mediterranean Chicken with roasted broccoli

Wednesday, 1/17/2012--Salmon with Lemon Butter and Pineapple Salsa, roasted broccoli and grilled Asparagus

I may post pictures of the recipes, but I'm not entirely sure I'll be able to make that happen. I'm also willing to share recipes if any of these sound good to you.

A Break in the Hiatus

2012-01-06T14:06:00.000-06:00

It's Friday so I'm typically on a blogging hiatus until Sunday, but there are a couple of things you must know ~~because I feel it's my life duty to help you avoid missing all the things I think are important.~~

I have internet at home, but we are working on buying a new router. #makingmylifeeasier

Click this link and read what Amy has to say. This afternoon, a missionary came to speak to the Girls Bible Study group that meets in my classroom on Fridays. The last thing she said was "Don't avoid the struggle, and don't give up. You don't know what God has for you there." Then, I read Amy's post. I believe Him. There is a destination and a purpose for the struggle. It's coming. I can almost see the runway lights.

The Internet Is Ruining My Life

2012-01-05T14:14:00.000-06:00

I don't want to be all My Life Is Going To End because my internet won't work, but my life is going to end. Since one of my resolutions was to cook more often, access to the internet has become crucial in my house. How else do you look up recipes for the three ingredients you have left before you actually go to the grocery store? (And I would like to submit that onions, peppers, and chicken are not a bad combination in theory, but actual ingestion means one probably shouldn't spend time in the company of others for a while. Just sayin'.)

Unfortunately, it's still. not. working. At this stage in the game, it's probably the router, but ruling out all the other possibilities requires *ahem* internet access. So each time I encounter a new issue, I have to wait until my planning period the next day at work. And don't give me that garbage about running water and hot showers. I need the internet. ::sobs::

I did sign up for a class next semester at the prompting of Favorite. He thinks since I received an A in the previous class, I was blowing my experience out of proportion. (I wasn't. But I did probably whine excessively.) This semester, due to schedule navigation, my class is on Wednesday nights--American Literature after 1900. We'll apparently cover Post-Apocalyptic Fiction, Serial Verse and Graphic Novels. I'm only aiming to survive and learn something in the process.

I had to navigate a new schedule, because I was asked to teach an after school tutoring session on Tuesdays and Thursdays until the end of February. The program is something through Sylvan, so while the students are completing a personalized, online, tutoring session, I can stay caught up on grading. Maybe it will be less of a problem this semester.

I swear I had something more interesting to say, and I probably had pictures to contribute, but since I can't blog at home, when I have time to think, on my laptop, my creativity is stifled. STIFLED I TELL YOU!

Maybe today's fix-it routine actually did.

Midweek Confessions: 1/4/12

2012-01-04T15:37:00.001-06:00

* I am addicted to The Good Wife. I rarely get addicted to televisions shows, but when I do? It's sick. I haven't loved anything this much since Judging Amy went off the air. But now I have The Good Wife and Once Upon a Time. I hope grad school doesn't get in the way of my watching schedule.

* I have to go to Verizon today. I am not looking forward to it, but I really like having working internet at home.

* I love Shakespeare, and I get really passionate when I talk about him. The students think I'm a little unhinged, but there's something about the St. Crispin's Day speech that moves me. And I love the scene in Renaissance Man.

* I have no idea what recipe I'm going to try this evening, but I'm pretty pumped about trying something. Cooking is something I really enjoy.

* I have a bit of an after school job until the end of February. The extra money will be nice, but it will also be an opportunity to focus on things at school for a couple of days a week. If I have to be here, I might as well accomplish something.

* I signed up for my class. It's not the one I intended to take, but it sounds interesting so we'll see ;)

And those are my confessions :)

Resolutions 2012

2012-01-03T15:20:00.000-06:00

Last year's resolutions--this year's thoughts in bold.

1. I want to learn more about Jesus. I don't know what form this resolution will take. I know that I will probably facilitate another women's Bible study some time this year. I know that Favorite and I have committed to doing morning devotions together since we don't see each other for the rest of the day. I'm looking forward to it so far. We didn't manage to stick through morning devotions. Truthfully, our schedules are so opposite, it got a little ridiculous. He'd be falling asleep during morning time, and I would be asleep when he came home. But I do think I managed to learn quite a bit about Jesus during 2011--just not in the ways I had previously pictured.

2. I'm going to take PCOS more seriously. I may talk about it a little more on here and what it has meant for my life. I'm setting a small weight loss goal of 20 lbs for the entire year, because this syndrome makes it difficult to lose weight. However, I do know that losing even 10% of body weight can restore normal hormonal function (per information I've read). So I'm going to set small goals and work toward getting there without getting absolutely crazy in the process. I didn't lose much weight, but I did take the syndrome more seriously. More on that later.

3. I'm going to simplify. I need some order and consistency in my life and that may mean giving up some things. I don't know what those things are or even if I'm expected to give up actual activities at this very second, but I'm open to what God has planned for me. Whoo. I had no idea that simplification would mean saying goodbye to my church, members of my family and people I had known for years. 2011 was definitely the year of letting go--of dreams, relationships, expectations, people who used to live in close proximity, and fruitless commitments. You can't hang in there just because it's what you've always done, nor can you hope and hope and hope that things will get better when it's clear that is anything but true. Sometimes the kindest action really is waving goodbye and meaning it.

Now, on to 2012...

1. In continuation of taking PCOS more seriously, I plan to cook on a regular basis.

I used to love to cook. I loved being in the kitchen. I loved planning meals. I loved flavors and textures and color on my plate. But when I focus on weight loss, I only focus on getting as much as I can for as few calories as I can as quickly as I can. Which, I think, is sad. My resolution to cook more often has more to do with enjoying something again than it does with weight loss.

Would I like to lose weight? Sure. But I'm finally coming to the point where I can embrace myself so I can move past this stupid mentality that has kept me stuck in a rut. The facts are as follows: my cholesterol is good. My blood pressure is low. I generally consume under 2000 calories a day (often under 1500 calories a day). Most of those calories are not from a fatty resource. I rarely eat fast food.

What I want to do instead is focus on creating a meal that I can actually enjoy. I want to look at food differently. Basically, I want to live my life differently. Instead of valuing thinness, I want to value good living. And part of that includes my vision of food. How can I possibly view food in a positive manner when I generally come home and eat the first convenient item in sight? Oh, and that's another part of cooking more regularly--finding a way to eliminate the majority of convenience foods in my life. Not all, but some.

2. I plan to be--let go when necessary and move on when possible.

Things were difficult in 2011--good, but difficult. Like I said earlier, letting go is never an easy part of living, and I'm worse at it than most. I hold grudges, get my feelings hurt and can't move on because I continue to play events in my head. I need to remember some relationships aren't forever, and that's not always a bad thing. Part of this resolution may also include spending less time with people who create ill will (purposefully or not). Who needs more jealousy, selfishness or anger in life? Not this girl.

3. I plan to watch my mouth.

Out of all the things I've struggled with (and the list is long and distinguished), language sits at the top of the list. I'm not just talking specific words, though that is a consideration here. I'm also talking purposeful speech. It doesn't mean I'll never tell a joke again, but I want to be careful about belittling others--particularly those with strong feelings about personal situations. It's happened to me, and it hurts when people are flippant with your life.

4. Simplification continues.

For the first time in 6 years or so, I will not be leading a Bible study. I'm still sad about it, but I really believe it's by God's design for this season of my life. My church does offer small groups, and I will be attending one of those, and my mom and SILSheena and I are going to complete James: Mercy Triumphs over the next twelve weeks. I am also retired from singing, which is a sad blessing.

I also plan to stay at work until four or four thirty every day to cut down on the grading hassle. Since I have an extra class of sophomores, my grading load last semester was horrendous. I graded until the very last day of school, and I need to commit myself to doing something

My house is becoming clutter-free and organized so I don't have to spend every weekend doing a massive cleaning overhaul. I'm working on the laundry problem.

I really just plan to spend less time on what doesn't matter and focus more on the things that make a difference in the end. Oh, and reading--on my Nook. Which is simplification at its best :)

Nothing revolutionary. But I'm looking forward to 2012--without constantly looking behind me. I remember where I've been. Now it's time to move on.

internet issues

2012-01-02T17:40:00.000-06:00

Sorry for my lack of update. I'm having internet issues, but I will update with a recap of last year's resolutions and my resolutions for 2012 tomorrow. Stay tuned.

My Grown-Up Christmas List

2011-12-28T10:52:00.000-06:00

If you've never checked out the book The Five Love Languages, you should. It's interesting reading. My love language is actually receiving gifts (though, I do take much pleasure in finding the perfect gift for someone else, too) so Christmas is totally my love language.

(None of this undercuts the true meaning of Christmas for me. It doesn't overshadow Christ's birth.)

My first real gift was having my family in one place. We missed NutMeg on Christmas day, but I have this weird need to know that everyone is together in one place. I would actually give up every single present for that to happen.

Of course, there were presents. Beautiful, shiny, glorious presents.

Source

This gorgeous handbag is every bit as beautiful in person. Actually, it may be a little more glorious than I had imagined. It fits everything. It looks classy. I'm hoping it rubs off on me.

Source

The Nook Tablet is a lot cooler than I imagined. I didn't realize it worked as a web browser in addition to an ereader, so I've been getting Favorite's moneys worth out of the product. One of my first purchases? The Dark Tower series by Stephen King. I've heard about it for years. I'm finally going to decide for myself.

Source

You should hear Favorite sing the opening song from The Lion King. This is one of my Favorite Disney movies, and I'm glad to finally be able to watch it on DVD.

Pretty soon, I'll take a picture of what I received from LilBro and NutMeg. They made me a "Welcome" sign to go in front of my house, but since they know me so well, they also added a removable "not" sign to put in front of the welcome.

Don't judge me. You know not every person is welcome at your house. The same is true at mine, but we all buy outdoor mats that indicate otherwise. It's a farce...and I'm bringing honesty back.

I was also blessed to receive gift cards and money--some of which I will be spending on upgrades around my house. First order of business? Picture frames in the hallway. I have to lay out the order, and then I'll get them up and get you pictures. I'll upload pictures of the pinterest project then, too.

The Season

2011-12-26T10:28:00.000-06:00

I knew you all would be waiting with baited breath to learn the winner of our little "Weight Loss Wager." Well, hold on to your pants: Me. Turns out, I was only one good flu away from victory. I lost no less than seven pounds in three days. Favorite, who had gotten a little lax in his eating and exercise since he was suuuure it was in the bag, lost a little over two pounds.

My comment? God bless us...but especially God bless the flu. (Because I'm not too good to know where my bread is buttered.)

Despite Favorite's devastating loss, he still managed to have a great Christmas. I did, too. Our families are really generous, and generosity is a lifestyle.

Sunday morning, our pastor didn't preach a message about a baby laid in a manger. He didn't talk about a pregnant virgin and her uncomfortable trip to Bethlehem. Instead, he lovingly read from a passage in Matthew 11:

When John, who was in prison, heard about the deeds of the Messiah, he sent his disciples to ask him, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?”

Jesus replied, “Go back and report to John what you hear and see: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor. Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me.”

Who are you? John asked. I Am, Jesus replied.

At Christmas or St. Patrick's Day, He is. On the fourth of July or Halloween, He is. He is. He binds up the broken hearted. He sets the captive free. He heals the blind. And there's something in the present tense of "He Is" that breaks my heart wide open.

God with us.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,

Christ behind me, Christ before me,

Christ beside me, Christ to win me,

Christ to comfort and restore me,

Christ beneath me, Christ above me,

Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,

Christ in hearts of all that love me,

Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

Minor Updates

2011-12-22T16:01:00.000-06:00

A few updates of minor importance...

1. Favorite finished the Pinterest project in the pantry, and it looks great. I'll try to get pictures up soon.

2. I have developed some sort of stomach flu. Guess when it happened? If you guessed the moment I stepped out of my classroom, you would be correct. Lovely.

3. I'm trying to wrap a present or two in between sitting down. But both brothers, Sheena and NutMeg will be home by tomorrow...and that's worth smiling about :)

Merry Christmas.

Wednesday Hodgepodge 12/21

2011-12-21T07:00:00.025-06:00

1. Are you cooking Christmas dinner? How many will be round your table this year? What are we having?

I do not typically cook Christmas dinner; Mom and Gloria usually take that job. Occasionally, I contribute, but Christmas dinner is much lower-key at our house than Thanksgiving. We may have sandwiches or something, but I haven't heard the menu this year.

2. What is one must-have Christmas cookie in your house?

Shortbread. Always. It's an easy cookie to make, and it's something I do fairly well.

3. Santa likes a glass of milk with his cookies. Do you? What kind of milk is on tap at your house-skim? almond? soy? full fat (Gasp!)

It's full fat, vitamin D milk at our house, but we aren't really milk-drinkers. I keep the full fat version around because it's lower in carbs and better for women with PCOS.

4. Time magazine recently named their 'Person of the Year' for 2011. This is the person the editors believe had the greatest impact, for better or worse, in the past year. This year they chose 'The Protester'. Your thoughts? Who would you name Person of the Year for 2011?

Oh, I don't know. According to their list, I guess The Princess, but those people don't really impact my community or my family. Around here, I think The Soldier would be high on the list--there are several coming home, and one in particular whose parents can't wait to see him. (Happy to have you home, Sawyer!) In my life, I guess anyone would be labeled an Encourager or a Prayer. The list is longer and more distinguished this year than in years past.

5. December 21st is National Flashlight Day... when was the last time you needed a flashlight and did you know right where to find one?

I needed one when I put my sideboard together last week. Luckily, I have one on my phone :)

6. candy canes...yum or yuck?

Love 'em in their own right. Don't care for them chopped over my chocolate.

7. What Christmas carol lyric means the most to you?

I've always been partial to "Oh come let us adore Him." It's haunting to me...and six short words fill me completely. Odd how that happens, eh?

8. Insert your own random thought here.

One last gift to buy. Grades are entered. I got an A in my grad class. Sleep in heavenly peace, indeed.

Weight Loss Wagers with Favorite

2011-12-19T12:01:00.000-06:00

In "what's-going-on-around-my-house" news, Favorite and I are competing against each other in a weight loss wager. We are both fairly competitive people, and I thought that might give me the push I need to make a concentrated effort to focus on cardio every day. Don't get me wrong: I hate being fat. But I hate the idea of losing a competition more than I hate my size *yeahlikeI'mevergoingtopostthat* jeans.

And that was my first mistake.

You see, competitive or not, you shouldn't ever wager with your husband...or any man for that matter. Especially when it comes to weight loss competitions. Because boys? Will visit the little boys' room and lose 15 lbs. Women add a spray of perfume and gain seven.

So what did I do when I learned that Favorite dropped 8 lbs in four days? (Yep. Eight. It would take me three months to lose eight pounds. Plus, you should see what he's eaten in those four days.) I stopped competing. I'm still going to have to pay up, but for two or three days, I just thought it didn't matter. And I acted like it.

That was my second mistake.

After 31 years on this planet, I finally starting to get that it's never going to be about "eating right" or exercising a certain number of minutes a week. Not for me. Instead, it's about doing something. About living. About enjoying. And it's not about dread or resignation.

See, I don't really enjoy food. For the last seven or eight years, it's become the solace that isn't really comforting. I felt I deserved to eat a doughnut because I wasn't as thin-pretty-capable-fill-in-your-own-issue-here. I should be allowed to avoid the gym, because things didn't come easy to me. I shouldn't have to count calories, because I wasn't able to get pregnant. All of it boiled down to a sense of entitlement that said, "If I'm deprived here, then I shouldn't have to complete x." But I wouldn't call anything of that particularly fulfilling. Replacement never is.

But then I read about these people who love to eat and cook and still manage to lose weight. And I think, "I'm doing something wrong here." Truthfully, I should've said, "I'm thinking something wrong here." Perhaps that's the bottom line issue for a lot of people. I want... I deserve... I should have...

None of those thoughts make us better people. I've perfected that thinking process, and it sure hasn't made me a thinner human being. (I'm not more magnanimous, either, in case you were wondering.) But a resolution to enjoy, to do, to be a part of... I wonder how that would change me...

Favorite and I weigh at the end of the week, and we'll fulfill our wagers at that time. Then, we'll start over. For my do-over, I'm resolving to enjoy my break and live. It's probably going to require me to get off my rear end and do something. (That might be the definition of living.) But there are people to enjoy, and events to attend and things to do. The funny thing is, for the first time in a long time, I'm looking forward to it.

My New Favorite Blog...

2011-12-18T19:10:00.001-06:00

www.canyoustayfordinner.com

Check her out. Read her story. Love her recipes. Pray this for me.

Midweek Confessions: Volume 1

2011-12-14T10:03:00.000-06:00

Click on the button to join E in Midweek Confessions (she's seriously one of my favorite bloggers!).

* I still have 60% of my Christmas shopping to do. I haven't wrapped anything, and I am just now starting to care. I guess I had to get my paper and most of my grading out of the way before it mattered. I also need help getting Favorite's gift, so I'm going to have to get on that.

* I don't put up a Christmas tree, and nothing you say will make me sorry. Christmas happens at our house whether it's decorated or not.

* I just bought a nice sideboard to go in my kitchen/dining room area, and I'm really pumped about it. I'm actually embarrassed to share how excited I am to spend some of my break decorating my house or getting it more put together. I may actually put pictures on the walls. (In frames! With mats! In a prescribed layout!) I also have a little Pinterest project for my husband to complete. I know we've been in this house for a year, but it takes me a while to get to stuff. Does anyone else get ridiculously pumped about organization?

* I got a pregnancy announcement this week and I didn't cry. I was so proud of myself. I didn't even feel jealous (not lying). And that made me feel relieved.

* My brothers and their significant others will be home in just over a week, and I'm far more excited about that than any Christmas present I could open. Christmas just seems so homey to me.

* My husband and I are in a weight loss competition. So far, he's lost 8 lbs since Sunday. I've lost three that I gain back and lose and gain back and lose. Sometimes, being a girl sucks.

Sharing the Disjointed: Blogging about Life

2011-12-13T12:58:00.001-06:00

When I'm not whining about grad school, grading papers or doing laundry, I'm usually sitting on my couch staring at a computer screen trying to figure out how to share my life with people I don't know. (You know you're jealous). I usually laugh over how disjointed my life probably seems--from telling students I can't keep clothes on to sharing our recent church displacement.

But disjointed is what life is. We move from cleaning toilets to hosting Christmas without a second breath because that's what the day entails. Why should my blog be any different?

This year was a tough year for a lot of people I know. It was full of tough diagnoses, emotional trauma, budgeting and the highs and lows any relationship brings to the table. So was last year. And the year before. And while I find myself praying that 2012 will be different, I keep wondering what different would look like. What part of life would I be willing to erase for the sake of different?

More than once over the last three years, I felt that God was impressing, on me, the importance of authentic living. Last night (and all day today), I kept hearing the words of Matthew 5:14-16:

Here's another way to put it: You're here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God is not a secret to be kept. We're going public with this, as public as a city on a hill. If I make you light-bearers, you don't think I'm going to hide you under a bucket, do you? I'm putting you on a light stand. Now that I've put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand—shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you'll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven (The Message).

But the more I think about that verse, the more I remember the way I used to interpret it. Shining my light meant I would wear the right clothes, say the right things, go to church Sunday morning and evening and on Wednesdays, spout Bible verses at people who were hurting and pretend the words "Jesus loves me" solved every problem. (Hint: They don't.) I thought hiding the unsavory parts of life would show other people what it was supposed to look like.

I was a church person. And what you just read was what I got out of Christianity. Clothing. Words. Holier-than-thou. Pretense.

Pretense is my natural inclination...even here. I've been concerned that I'm sharing too much of my life with people I don't know. Occasionally, I write something and wonder how I would feel if a student read it. Frequently, I wonder what people think of me after they read a post.

Then, I think of the people who have poured into my life. They stood on a stage and let me see all parts of them--from ugly to glory--and I'm the better for it. Maybe that's what I'm hoping to do here. I cringe when I think about the people who have read about our loss, but how can I possibly talk about what Jesus has become to me if I can't show you, tell you, where I've been?

A year ago, I thought I might take this entire blog down. (There's an entire month missing in 2010 because of the delete button.) I knew the content was going to be sad for quite a while afterward, and I just didn't see that sharing those things with the world was going to be beneficial. I didn't want pity, and I didn't want to write. Lying wasn't an option, and, other than rage and hurt, there wasn't much to share.

Then, there was this post. It came as the result of a conversation with a friend who wondered why my writing was so much different than I was.

I guess that's when I got it. Life is a gift--with all of its crazy, disjointed happenings. Those happenings are shared and savored--by people who know and those we don't. And while common experience ties us together as people, the uncommon experiences are the things that help us sharpen one another and learn to walk the unfamiliar path.

If my honesty draws one person closer to God, then a little bit of uncomfortable is worth it.

A Picture Dump

2011-12-12T18:56:00.000-06:00

My paper is finished. I only made it to page 19, but I can honestly say I did the best I could. At the end of the day, what else could be expected?

Don't answer that. I know what could be expected. I've heard some of those expectations from the craziest of places (you're human, too, bud...and all of us fall short of the glory of God)...but I digress. I've emailed said paper and am relieved it's over.

I sat on the couch to look through my camera and realized I haven't unloaded pictures since September. Sad, no? Wanna see what you've missed?

Ronnie and Sheena got married, and Kate and I hammed it up for the camera.

My friends, Morgan and Jason, had a baby. Good thing I got this picture up before Max turned 30.
And for the record, he was the prettiest newborn I have ever seen.

Ronnie and Sheena at their bridal shower.

Casey, cooking in my kitchen for Sheena's bachelorette party.

I have tons of Homecoming pictures, too, but I don't think I'll post them in a public forum. I'm just amazed at how much has happened in the last few months. How did I already forget half of this stuff?

(PS. Just got an email from my Prof. He received my paper.. No turning back now.)

On Your First Birthday

2011-12-11T18:29:00.000-06:00

I'm seventeen pages finished with a paper I can't expand anymore, because I keep thinking of you. Tomorrow is your birthday. Today is the first time I've recognized that fact without crying. OK, I take that back. I'm crying now. But not for the same reasons I've cried in the last year. I'm crying because I'm just a little bit proud of myself.

I'm proud of myself because I never thought I'd get here. A couple of months ago, a place like this didn't exist for me. Without meaning to, I would relive moments I didn't want to forget and find myself in the same angry, hurt place I had been since our unplanned goodbye. Even though I haven't heard it for a year and a half, I never have had any problems hearing your heart beat in my mind, and I certainly don't struggle to remember the statistic that said you had less than a 5% chance of dying once we heard that sweet swish-swish that indicated we had experienced a miracle.

I still remember those things, but they don't sting the way they did. You were. I know that, and that is, perhaps, the most important part of this story. Ultimately, I'd like to think that your short existence has made me a better person--more compassionate, more appreciative, more aware. Those things weren't true every day of the last year and a half. Baby steps. Surely that's something you understand.

Somehow, I'm less uptight than I used to be. You'd think the opposite would be true, but the experience of you and everything afterward has been a tangible reminder that some things are simply beyond our control. I've never been able to admit it, but you were beyond my control. I wanted to take responsibility for what happened, but I can't punish myself forever for something that was never in my hands.

Tomorrow, and for every day I live after that, I will remember every single part of our experience together. I won't forget you--not just because I can't, but also because I don't want to. Even though I'm moving to a different place, I will carry you with me. How could I not? You are a blessing. Likely, the only one of your kind in my life.

In the last two months, your father and I have talked about you every week. We don't know where we will be on your second birthday, and we're finally OK with that fact. Sometimes it's best to forget anticipation and enjoy the blessing of the moment. Tomorrow, that's exactly what we'll do. You didn't get your first birthday, but we do. And I want you to know I won't waste it.

I'll love you forever; I'll like you for always.

Mom.

The Last of the Infamous Grad School Paper: Updated

2011-12-10T17:52:00.001-06:00

I thought the next time I posted, I would be completely relaxed and happy to report that I had officially finished my paper. Unfortunately, that's not the case, but I was afraid if I waited until then, I would start getting phone calls from my out-of-town family wondering if I had met some unfortunate demise.

But I have met an unfortunate demise. At the risk of complaining about this paper every single step of the way, I should inform you I'm ten pages in...but that's all I have. (I am now fourteen pages in. Who knew I would be able to get so much more out of the point of view manipulation present in Night?)

I need ten more pages. I'm praying they will come fairly easily. I'm planning on pounding out five more tonight and then maybe five tomorrow. If there's ten pages worth of material left on this stupid subject.

Long December: Another Post on the Month That Will Not End

2011-12-05T21:41:00.000-06:00

I wasn't going to post tonight, but then I was all "What if my faithful readers really want to hear about trauma narrative and how it's grossly under appreciated in the high school classroom and that severely affects our interpretations of pieces like Elie Wiesel's Night and causes our students to think they understand events like the Holocaust when they actually only understand a gross misrepresentation of an event that can't be articulated?"

When I had that thought I just knew I needed to come and talk with you.

I really appreciated your kind comments on my last post. (Though, it would be nice if a few of you would attach email addresses to your accounts. Normally, I would email you back if you comment on a post.) The holidays are tough around here. I told Favorite I feel selfish admitting that, because there are worse traumas taking place and I need to keep that in mind. What he said reminded me of something I quoted in an earlier post: "Your cancer doesn't fix my broken back." I guess I forget that grieving is a process that everyone goes through, and it takes a different form for everyone.

There are just a lot of days when I wish this process was over. Or, even better, nonexistent. Thousands of women have walked in my shoes, but I find myself frustrated because my standard dictates that I'm not supposed to be here almost two years later. I'm supposed to be moving on, in a different place, working through, insert your own "working-it-out" phrase here. Instead, I do stupid things like look at birthday cakes made to mimic the book The Very Hungry Caterpillar and sing "Long December" and laugh at the part "maybe this year will be better than the last."

The narrative in my head sometimes convinces me that part of the healing process is knowing that the one stint wasn't it for us. The logical side of my brain (which doesn't function often) says there is no reason to court hope when every sign points to the fact that my body is irreparably broken--there's a "feeling that it's all a lot of oysters, but no pearls." And then there's just me--no logic, no narrative--that doesn't want optimism or pessimism. I just want to accept what is and move it to the back of the closet.

I've come to admire the women in my life who do a lot of side-along support. They're sneaky in their encouragement--popping up when you least expect them and turning the subject to something worthy of a belly laugh. It's weird, but I don't hear "Let's have dinner" when they talk. I hear "I haven't forgotten you." While I'm in the process of shoving all of this junk to the back of the closet and praying for invisibility, there's something in me that just needs to be seen. Not praised. Not justified. Not even comforted. Just not cast away.

Last Sunday, Pastor Josh talked about peace. He pointed out that, as Christians, we are called to be a people of peace, but that can't happen if we can't find peace with God. I've started to think that may be the theme of this holiday for me. I'm not talking about finding peace with what has happened. Instead, maybe I need to seek peace for what will never be. But I'm trying to savor the lesson and trying "to tell myself to hold on to these moments as they pass."

Thanks for giving me an outlet to work through them.

Silent December

2011-12-01T11:14:00.001-06:00

It's December. I used to look forward to December with great anticipation. All good things happened in December when I was a kid. Snow. No school. Christmas. Family. Presents. And, honestly, the world just seemed a little bit cozier in December. (I really feel the same way about football season in my small town.)

But now I dread it. I dread the first day because it leads into a second, and the pattern continues. I dread it because of what didn't happen and what can't be fixed. There's still snow and family and no school and presents, and I still love those things. But there's something else that lurks behind all of those things that makes it just a little less sparkly than it was in the past.

There's more hope this month than in any other month in the calendar. And I will simultaneously thank God for that hope and curse it under my breath, because unfulfilled hope has a way of stinging like a slap to the face.

This month, in the back of my mind, I silently celebrate the birthday that won't come and will go unremembered. I light imaginary candles for nonexistent people and pray for this month to go as fast as possible and be as silent as possible because I can't really muster enough joy to share it with the world.

But I could do with a few silent nights.

Good News: Grad School

2011-11-29T21:20:00.000-06:00

Because we could all use a little good news from time to time, right?

I have another week to work on my paper.

Ok. That that probably wasn't good news for you, but it was awesome for me. I'm still going to work on a schedule to try to get everything written without going into a panic. Currently, I'm one section down and four pages in. By the end of Thursday, I'd like to be two sections down and 8 or 9 pages in. My friend, Morgan, says I just need to sit down and write. She's probably right, because the four pages I wrote yesterday came in about an hour. I just analyze and analyze and then freak out that what I'm saying isn't good enough. That requires an extra three hours or so in the writing process ;)

If you want to contribute, my paper is focusing on a narratological approach to Elie Wiesel's Night in secondary classrooms. I'd really like to discuss narratology as this is my first experience with that particular aspect of theory.

(And hopefully my last. I'll be glad to have the theory requirement out of the way.)

The Rut

2011-11-28T21:10:00.000-06:00

Normally, I post Two on Tuesday, but I'm currently knee deep in the paper I keep referencing. I'm knee deep because I've only written four pages so far. (I'd determined to write five this evening, but I hit a wall.) On a happy note, I've read almost all of my literature and have outlined the other things I'd like to address in this paper. If I can make bullet points from my research tomorrow, I may be well on my way to finished by the end of the week.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Please, Jesus.

The requirement for this paper is 25 pages, but I'm going to count myself blessed if I can pound out 20 of those pages. I've set realistic goals for the rest of the days this week, so hopefully I won't get too overwhelmed. I really just wish I would've known what I was doing earlier in the semester so I had a better start on this paper.

But while I'm swimming in narratology and critical analysis for high school students, I cannot possibly think about Christmas traditions. Shoot. I can't even think about Christmas presents. All I can think about is writing this paper and finishing this class. I don't even care about getting an "A"--which is unusual for my perfectionist self. (Case and point: I never received anything under an A in my English undergrad. Yes, I am a nerd.)

Keep the prayers coming. I need a little more inspiration.

Good Intentions: Prayer

2011-11-26T18:48:00.005-06:00

About five or six years ago, I really felt like God was impressing the necessity of prayer in my heart. More than Praise & Worship (which was I involved in at the time). More than Women's Bible Study (which was quickly becoming a staple in my devotional life). In response to that pressing necessity, I began reading books on prayer. I questioned the way prayer worked or was meant to work. I talked about prayer with other people. I encouraged others to seek Christ during worship services. I did everything.

Except actually pray.

Well, that's not entirely accurate. I prayed, but I didn't seek God the way He was encouraging me to seek Him.

And I feel like this shouldn't be a surprise to anyone, because I've established that while everyone else was paying attention in Sunday school, I was learning how to best flick a booger. (Alright, that's not entirely true, either. But gracious jeebus, you'd think that in one area of my life I'd get it together and learn something. But nnnnoooooo. I'm a train wreck--one of the it's-so-crazy-you-can't-look-away numbers.)

When I look back on that time period, I mostly want to kick dirt and look at the ground. You don't make eye contact when you're ashamed of your actions. See, I think that was a preparation time for me. I think God was drawing me to Him so I would develop a habit--that in every situation, my natural inclination would lean toward prayer.

Currently, my natural inclination leans toward bread. But that's another story.

Beyond the love of white flour was the fact that I, like many other people, like for people to like me. It's been a weird season in a lot of ways, but it's definitely tied together with this theme: "To inoculate me from the praise of man, He baptised me in the criticism of man, until I died to control of man" (Francis Frangipane). That admission is simple and true. I'm not the first. I won't be the last. Close the book. End of discussion.

More than anything, this "baptismal" of sorts is a reminder for me of what the "Sovereign Lord" says: "my house will be called/ a house of prayer for all nations" (Isaiah 56:7b).

Truthfully, prayer is a unifying theme in much of the New Testament. (That doesn't discount the Old Testament, but it's generally a "crying out" there.) But that prayer is just as often meant to be for the others we encounter as for ourselves:

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect. "
--Matthew 5:43-48 (NIV)

Clearly, this passage doesn't speak to our human sensibilities of murder and pillage. But it does speak to a God consciousness that's meant to be a part of our lives: a consciousness that pushes us to be more like Him and desire that for others, too.

That consciousness comes through prayer. Must be the reason Paul admonishes us to "Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer" (Romans 12:12). And like Paul says to the church at Corinth, it's true that the church's constant prayer should be "that you may be fully restored" (2 Corinthians 13:9b).

Right now, I'm praying I get this lesson so five years from now my natural inclination leans toward prayer. Rest assured, I would be a different person if I had dedicated myself to God's drawing the same number of years in the past. I'm praying for a God consciousness--for myself and others.

"Although the Lord gives you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, your teachers will be hidden no more; with your own eyes you will see them. Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, “This is the way; walk in it.” --Isaiah 30:20-21 (NIV)

Woo

2011-11-25T05:35:00.000-06:00

You all.

My mom hates to shop. HATES. IT. But about a week before black Friday, every conversation with her is the same: "We're going shopping on Friday, right? Right?! RIGHT?"

It's like declaring you hate running, and then a week before screaming "IT'S THE NEW YORK MARATHON. WOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Yep. Woo.

Forest Fires

2011-11-23T19:19:00.000-06:00

I've really been trying to focus on what is pure, what is holy, what is just, what is right, etc. But it seems like I can't stay out of the way of people who insist on sharing tidbits of information that aren't just inaccurate, they are no where close to the truth.

And then, all I can think of are blazing forest fires.

Anyone else have this issue?

Two on Tuesday: Blog Grateful

2011-11-22T07:52:00.000-06:00

Join us for Two on Tuesday by clicking the button. You really want to.

Why are you thankful for blogging?

I am a stuffer. It's true, and I hate that it's true, but there's no use in denying stuff here. When things get difficult, or when I don't understand something, I stuff it down. Then, when I encounter something else, I stuff it on top of what I've already stuffed down. I do this until there is absolutely no room left, and then I try to sit on the suitcase and zip it up anyway.

It's super healthy.

On top of being a stuffer, I don't really talk about personal things in person. I know that's bizarre, and probably stupid to a good number of you. But it's easier to find my voice at a keyboard and really process what's bugging me, or what I think.

In the last few years, I've shared a good number of things with you. I've talked about my former church, the epic fail that is my grad school experience, my son, and the things that run through my mind when I teach. For the most part, blogging has given me room to have a conversation or close the conversation when I just can't talk. It's given me the experience of support without the awkwardness of personal conversation.

Mostly, it's helped me find my voice.

A while back, I wrote that I don't write because I'm going to make millions of dollars for putting my words on paper. If you want to read someone like that, go to Barnes and Noble (or look on my sidebar for people more impressive than I am). I write because I don't know who I am if I don't.

And I'm pretty sure that's something for which to be grateful.

A Brief Update, Because I've Got Work To Do

2011-11-21T17:26:00.000-06:00

Since so many teachers approach holocaust literature in the classroom, there has to be a way to address those memoirs with a certain amount of respect while still allowing the students to have the opportunity to see what is functioning behind them.

This is the working concept for my paper. I'm really no further than I was yesterday, but I learned that at least one of the articles I found is going to be useful (YAY!) and one of the books I have (Writing and Rewriting the Holocaust) is proving to be invaluable.

So the rest of my night, now that I'm finished picking up and putting things away, will revolve around grading and reading those articles so I can hopefully start writing some time this week.

I'm excited about grading these papers, because it's a project I love giving the freshmen. Since we read The Miracle Worker, a play about Annie Sullivan and Helen Keller, I think it's necessary for the students to experience what teachers experience. Their job? To teach someone something. The papers are as diverse as the students in my classes, but I was more impressed that several of them indicated that this was not the best experience of their lives. People don't listen. They are hard to teach.

And sometimes, it's easier to do things yourself.

Anyone relate?

A Desperate Plea

2011-11-20T21:52:00.000-06:00

In two weeks, I will no longer have to attend my class. In two weeks, I will be required to hand in a twenty-five page research paper supported with ten to fifteen resources. In two weeks, I will hopefully stop hyperventilating and relax to enjoy the holidays.

But there are still two weeks.

They are going to be the longest and the shortest two weeks of my life. Long because I have to write this paper, and short because I have to write this paper. Anyone trackin'?

I know some of you may think this is silly, but I could use a few prayers over the next two weeks. I have no idea how I'm going to write a worthwhile paper. I have a topic, but the last five resources I've read have proven to be worthless to my topic. So now, I'm scouring JSTOR for anything that will explain the concept of Narratology and attempting to determine how to teach high school students holocaust literature while making them aware of the fact that the very literature they read actually remembers and eliminates the event. While I'm at it, I probably need to address the latent nature of trauma.

And while all of that sounds really high-minded, let me assure you: I have no idea what I'm doing. If this paper gets written, it will be by the grace of God alone. So if you get some time, would you pray for me? Or pray that God would send some resources and some good paper ideas my way? I could certainly use some divine intervention.

Things I'm Loving: November 2011

2011-11-19T17:20:00.000-06:00

My cousin, Jake, is in massage therapy school so I had him work on my shoulders this morning. Verdict? Even if I never work out again, I've got to get back to stretching. That's the one thing I really appreciated about gymnastics and swimming--it was a way to stay limber. Jake was impressive, though. He stretched me and massaged until my head at least stopped hurting. I'm grateful.

And if you were wondering, he's single and a catch. Jake will be using massage therapy to pay his way through grad school. AND, he plays the guitar and sings. Oh, and he's good at all those things. Plus, he's one of my favorite people--he's funny and loyal and, above all things, cute. Sometime in the next month, I'll be promoting Jake's buddy, Blake, who is also a catch, but I thought it necessary to say something nice about Jake here.

But I'm mostly writing this post to tell you about a few things I'm currently loving. I think it might be a nice turn from the serious nature of the last few posts (though, I have all of a sudden gained a fairly large following from my hometown area over those last few blogs), and I don't think it hurts to smile over things from time to time, either.

Source

This is Fossil's Vintage Re-Issue Large Satchel. I love it for a couple of reasons. First of all, I'm a big fan of any bag that holds its structure without the owner filling it to the brim. Secondly, this is a classy looking bag. It would go well with jeans or dress pants, and would travel to a wedding or McDonald's. Plus, I actually really like the color. Reminds me of a comfy pair of jeans.

Source

Not long ago, I told you guys that I was looking at a new winter coat. This is what I bought, and I'm really pleased with it. First of all, it's lined with thinsulate, so it's definitely going to be warm. I also really love the color. Maybe Stacey and Clinton are right--red is a neutral.

Now for something revolutionary.

Source

This, ladies and gentlemen, is the Nook Tablet. I never thought I would join the ranks of those who no longer hold actual books, but I'm starting to see a benefit.

One major benefit is the fact that books for ereaders are cheaper than buying a regular book. Since I'm in grad school, that's a HUGE benefit. Plus, if I finish a book, and there's another in the series, I can buy it and start reading right away instead of waiting until I can find the next book in the series. Also, since I read a lot (like, a lot. I haven't updated that book tracker thingy in quite some time), I think this may be a more economical way of getting books. Will it keep from from ever buying a book again? I don't know. I don't totally see that happening, but we'll see, I guess. (Oh, and you should also know that this version of the Nook allows readers to borrow ebooks from their local libraries. Pretty cool, right?)

And, last, but not least, these people:

That's me on the end. The other two guys are my brothers. In the last few weeks, I've just been reminded how much I appreciate my family. Not just these two, but their significant others (SILSheena and Nutmeg), my parents, Gloria & Jason, Jake and Blake (because I'm pretty sure Blake may be part of the family now?). I realize not everyone has been blessed with a supportive family, but I have and I don't take enough time to tell you how great they are.

This Thanksgiving, enjoy the people who surround you. Love them. Appreciate them. And thank God He's given you others.

A Resource: Devotionals

2011-11-15T13:28:00.000-06:00

Since Sheena mentioned it earlier this week, I signed up to receive the devotionals from Girlfriends in God. If you are interested, you can sign up by clicking here. There are other types of devotionals available, too.

But those devotionals have been speaking to me. About peace. About letting go.

God is impressing things on my life. One of those things is that it's my responsibility to obey and do what I can. More importantly, God is reminding me that we all have obligations to one another--even if we feel we've done nothing wrong. There is responsibility in relationship. Responding to an action through the same type of action doesn't breed peace, kindness or unity.

My time in grad school has been nothing if not useful. It's reminded me that I'm not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but that I know what's right. I know what's helpful. But, more importantly, I know a Jesus who hasn't given up on me (or anyone else for that matter). So my prayer to Him is for usefulness...in all circumstances. And my hope is that my prayer is still possible.

Two on Tuesday: Pet Peeves

2011-11-15T06:35:00.002-06:00

Click on the picture above to join in.

What are your pet peeves?

Lots of things irk me, because, according to Favorite, I let them. But if we're going to get down to my two biggest pet peeves, I'm really going to have to think.

Number one is this: When are you going to have kids?

I've fielded this question at least a million times since I've gotten married. C'mon people. You aren't being original. I've been married almost nine years--so you can only imagine the number of times I've gotten to smile and say, "Oh, I don't know." *Add in harmless chuckle and a subject change here*

For the most part, I realize people aren't meaning to be rude and intrusive when they ask, but no one seems to take notice of the fact that the question actually is rude and intrusive. Reword it this way: "When are you going to have sex and see results from that sex?"

Also, our situation has attuned me to the fact that there are many couples who are trying to remain positive and kind when they approach that question; however, they can't field it six times in a row. It's too much--particularly when they've faced a loss. So if you feel the need to put this question to a newly married couple, think better of it and bite your tongue. You may be saving that couple a few tears later in the day.

(If I could tell you all the crazy questions I've had to address because of well-meaning people, you would probably call me a liar. Or take up drinking professionally. I've been accosted and questioned like I belonged in Guantanamo. Maybe the lesson we should learn here is that if people want to talk, they will.)

My other pet peeve is when people assume too much. Makes me want to buy a shirt that says, "You don't know me"--and not in a referencing Aida way. We can't always decipher intentions so sometimes it's best to ask a specific question or take a step back. Either way, more communication is often the best outcome. Though, I'll admit that isn't always the case.

(I also get annoyed when Favorite doesn't close cabinets or get his clothes in the laundry basket. People who put gum anywhere other than their mouths or the garbage gross me out. I hate the assumption that all fat people aren't trying. It bothers me when teachers don't consider themselves part of the same team. I need to stop. There's a whole other list of things that annoy me and make me laugh at the same time. Maybe we should address that list later?)

There are Options: Bend a Knee or Break Your Leg

2011-11-14T09:42:00.002-06:00

In the movie Mean Girls (nothing like a Lindsey Lohan reference on a Monday, eh?), Lindsey Lohan's character, Caty, says she needs to suck all the poison out of her life. Of course, this is toward the end of the movie and serves to wrap up the previous hour and a half with a feel good conclusion, but work with me here.

I'm aiming to suck the poison out. It will probably sound contrived, but I mean this in all sincerity: few people in any frustrating situation intend to create poison. Most of them are good people who truly want reconciliation and react out of strong emotion. If there are sides, then both of them have certainly reacted in that way. Why? Because they care. Because this matters. Because there are a handful of people who want to see reconciliation and resolution. But those things come at a cost.

That cost? That we bend a knee. It's something God has impressed on me over and over, and there have been more than a few instances in which I have refused openly. He's been kind to me in those refusals--ever the gentleman. But the reminder was that there would come a time when I could bend my knee or He could break my leg. Either way, I was going down.

That particular lesson was also apparent in the godly example of Warry and Tindy (names changed to protect people from notoriety on my blog, because my 5 readers may see it). Their example was a reminder to me that everyone bears a certain amount of fault and this would be a different situation if every person would own their part, bend a knee and offer an apology for the sake of reconciliation. We all have something to own. We all need support and encouragement. And often, support is there amid the disagreements and struggles--and it's present when we aren't. Few people bring those things to light simply to wield the "I'm-better-than-you" hammer. They struggle to understand, share and move to a place where those fears, problems and issues can be addressed.

I have not made, nor do I intend to make, inflammatory remarks about anyone or anything. My concerns have not been an open forum for others to read and then offer remarks. I will say something I read on another blog, though: "Your cancer doesn't fix my broken back." And that's true. If you take issue with me, the fact that I maintain imperfection won't fix the issues I feel are present other places. The only thing I can do is submit myself to the Lord (per James chapter 4), offer my apologies for any issue I may have created and move on--which is what I've tried to do. Favorite and I made the best decision we could for our family. I don't know what else could be expected.

Note: Comments are off for this post. You are welcome to email me if you wish to discuss something; however, I will not comment to inflammatory opinions or remarks. If you take issue with me, I apologize sincerely. It was not my intention to create issues.

To Run

2011-11-11T10:16:00.000-06:00

If there's any suggestion I can give the current generation that I feel would be really beneficial later in life, it would be this: learn to like running now.

Running makes a top ten list in my life. In fact, it's number one on my "Things that Make Me Want to Vomit" list. It shouldn't shock you that my former PE teacher (who is now a coworker of mine) still laughs over my aversion to pounding the pavement...er, track.

No one could argue with my reasoning that running would probably be a surefire weight loss technique. I'm pretty sure it's impossible to shove a piece of toast in your mouth if you're busy trying to keep your thighs from setting fires because they're rubbing together so quickly.

There's another reason. Look at this:

source

Look at her. She looks so...focused? Free? I don't know what word would be more fitting because "not frustrated" and "not stressed" aren't great terms here.

I've been thinking about running a lot over the last few months.

First, there was the fact that Lil Bro moved. Then, Big Bro got married and moved and took Sheena with him. (I mean, I guess you have to live together when you're husband and wife...but whatever.)

Then there were realizations, actions and decisions.

And now, there's me wishing I liked to run, because I'm completely jealous of that girl in the picture.

I almost wrote, "Change blows." But not all change does. If I lost 40 lbs over night, I probably wouldn't believe that change was a slight of fate (if I believed in fate). It only really blows when it isn't on the list of things I specifically requested.

When Robert Frost penned "The Road Not Taken," I wonder if he considered the possibility that one road was blocked. Barred. Impassable. The road less traveled may never have been the first choice in walking paths. It changes the tenor of the poem to learn that road may have been shoddy seconds when the walker had to turn back after learning that the first road ended.

These last four weeks have been proof to me that roads end. So I've smiled, gritted my teeth, discussed it with the people I'm closest to, pretended it didn't exist with everyone else and believed that God has a plan. It's not an invitation to pity me, but rather an admission that it's often easier to write covertly about difficult things than to talk. I can type through gritted teeth, you know. But the same act makes conversation a little difficult.

So through gritted teeth, I've prayed to be a runner. I need the grace to pace my breathing, move my legs and forget about the places I can't run.

I need an open road.

The Tip of the Conversation

2011-11-08T20:15:00.000-06:00

Favorite and I have friends who are raising four children--three little girls and a little boy. They are great parents. They expect their children to behave, hand out consequences when instructions aren't followed, but they don't shy away from life's realities. This was abundantly obvious the day I witnessed the two older girls get into a calculated tripping match.

After my friend stopped the altercation, both girls, with no sense of remorse, said together, "Sorry." My friend looked at both of them and said, "What do I say about sorry?" Two little girls wouldn't even make eye contact as they answered in matching, sing-song voices, "Sometimes sorry isn't good enough."

Surely there's something worthwhile in the sense of mea culpa that comes with "I'm sorry," but, unfortunately, those words don't produce an eraser that "undoes" everything that has been done. Frankly, I'm not even sure how we got to a place that allowed "I'm sorry" to be a catch-all that fixes everything.

"I'm sorry" was never meant to be the entire conversation--especially when the real apology likely wasn't going to come through conversation anyway. "I'm sorry" was meant to be a jumping off point...a place to begin...a recognition of the work that was going to have to take place to make "I'm sorry" worthwhile.

I'm learning that. (Sure, I'm 31 and I should've gotten this lesson back when I was 5, but I've established I'm the slow kid in class. Don't judge me.) It's one of those necessary lessons--you know, the one everyone tries to skip but ultimately cycles through again and again until, finally, something clicks.

"I'm sorry" is the beginning of a new normal--one that doesn't continue to spout meaningless nonsense to people who really need a little bit of change. And I can't imagine who wouldn't be willing to live that normal.

Two on Tuesday: Early Christmas Thoughts

2011-11-08T10:50:00.000-06:00

Click on the link above to join us :) This is my first time participating, and it could be yours, too.

What’s your Christmas wish list? What do you hope to receive from Santa?

Christmas wish lists are hard. I don't have a lot of wants, and when I really, really want something, I usually buy it. My family loves to give gifts, but they prefer to get you something you actually want, so I make an effort to give them something...which usually ends up in a list of books.

Right now, I have a few books on my list:

My (not so) Storybook Life by Liz Owen (I don't want the kindle version as I don't have a kindle. This was just the picture I found.)


Following Atticus by Tom Ryan (What is it with the kindle? Gah. I want real books, people. REAL BOOKS.)

I've had my eye on a couple of Coach's finest. (And, oh yes, I am picky.) The Lion King just came out on DVD and Sheena made a good point with that Clarisonic facial brush.

But I'm also content with gift cards to my favorite haunts: Sephora, Target, Macy's and Kohl's.

So what do you hope will be wrapped under your tree this year?

Ante Up

2011-11-07T16:51:00.000-06:00

One of my students owes me $4.50. He owes me this money because he is an incessant gambler and feels the need to bet on the length of his classmates' speeches.

Typically, he's wrong. Way wrong. I even give him a ten second leeway on either side of the time and allow him the opportunity to look at the outlines and the notecards to determine length, and he still hasn't managed to guess successfully.

Bless his heart. Some of you are probably thinking I'm not going to take the money.

You would be wrong. Because I'm vindictive. And I like to win. And I think some lessons are hard learned. Like don't gamble with your teacher. Or your future as a bookie is crumbling before your eyes.

Either way, I think I'm cultivating a successful learning environment.

An Ode to Freud

2011-11-04T07:56:00.002-05:00

In my classroom, when students ask a question that no one else can answer, and I can, I'll follow my answer with some statement like this: "Man. I am awesome. You guys are so lucky to have me." The students and I then chuckle and move on with our day.

This same incident happened yesterday, and I made the same comment: "Man, I am so awesome. You guys are lucky to have me." Then, in an effort to out-do myself, I added, "I'm so awesome I can barely keep clothes on."

I'm going to let that marinate for a second.

...
...
...

::headdesk::

Gracious Jeebus. How am I even allowed around adolescents?

I looked down at my desk and prayed that no student caught what I had just said...but some prayers go unanswered.

"That was a bit of a Freudian slip, wasn't it, Mrs. House?"

I bit my lip and muttered, "Uh huh." (But honestly, two points to a sophomore who knows the concept of Freudian slip. He's no slacker.)

So what had I meant to say? That I was so awesome I could barely contain it. I have no idea how clothes came out of my mouth.

But don't you feel blessed to know I'm an educator?

Sublime--with Blogger

2011-11-02T19:31:00.000-05:00

If you plan to write a compelling blog, you should live a compelling life. Though, I'd venture to say that people living compelling lives probably don't have time to sit down and blog about it.

Clearly, I don't have a compelling life, because I do have a blog. A sad, little, floundering blog that rarely gets comments from people even though they look at a myriad of posts on a regular basis. But, I'm counting it something that people even look.

It's something because I don't have a better term to identify it when I'm not sure if it's a good thing or a strange thing. (Or both? Could it be both?)

On one hand, it's pretty flattering to think that someone, somewhere reads what I have to say. (Granted, that person may read the first line and then skip to a more interesting blog...like, say, Young House Love.) But it's humbling, too. And a little scary. I'm not ashamed of the things I've said, but this--these words--they're me. And since they're mine, I ~~obsess constantly to hear some feedback~~ occasionally like knowing how others respond.

I can't promise that things will get all lighthearted and fuzzy around here soon. My mom and brother are fond of saying that they need stability in one area of life (church, work, home) in order to find peace...unfortunately, this isn't a time of stability. But promise me that you'll keep reading? That you'll give a little feedback every now and again? That you'll straight up lie to my face so we can be friends (like ganstas and hoes)? Kidding on that last one. Unless I post pictures and you feel the need to comment on my hips. Be kind, people. Be kind.

Especially when you figure out that the upside of my day may be this space on the interwebs. My apologies to Sublime, but bloggin'--it's what I got. Remember that.

The Local Church

2011-10-31T17:06:00.000-05:00

The local church raised me. My parents are great people, and they were active and present in my life. But they made a decision when I was young: they would raise their children in church. Part of that committment meant putting me and my two brothers in the capable hands of other congregants and knowing that those people were just as committed to directing us down the path of righteousness as my parents were.

Those people introduced me to the concept of salvation. Children's Bible Quizzing gave me a venue to learn more about scripture. At the time they may have been simple trivia questions, but down the road they were words I couldn't turn to the right or left without hearing. More recently, Women's Bible Study and the high school Sunday school class changed the way I related to others through the Word. And Tobie? Tobie reminded me that it's possible to overflow and be loved unconditionally whether you deserve it or not.

The local church has been far from perfect. There are disagreements and struggles. Often, I have cultivated a bad attitude or opinion about something when I should've been minding my business. I would get aggravated when opinions differed with my own. But down deep, my desire wasn't really to make problems. I wanted to know Christ more. I wanted to know Him as best I could. I needed to put Him in context with the ministry I was in or the situation I was facing. But underneath it all, I loved my church for giving me a place to do those things.

So leaving my church was the hardest thing I have ever done. Favorite and I felt it was the best decision we could've made at the time. I was sad to learn that the relationships I valued didn't necessarily translate outside the doors of our local church.

My desires for the local church are still the same. I hope people come to know Christ and serve Him deeply. I hope attendees serve one another with genuine concern and hearts that are set on Christ alone. I hope that my absence in the congregation means fewer roadblocks to truly loving one another.

But you should know I miss you. I want my heart to break with the things that also break God's heart. Right now, the fact that you're facing anything at all breaks my heart. The fact that there are difficult decisions to make in the near future hurts. The fact that other congregants may not make it out of this mess still a part of your congregation makes me cry. Because whether you believe it or not, I didn't make my decision based on me. I made it because my other members of my family may not have made it out with a relationship with Christ still in tact. And I don't want to see that happen to anyone else, either.

I hope you do rebuild. I hope you find your footing beside a Jesus who wholeheartedly believes in redemption and forgiveness. I found it in Him. I hope that you struggle with Him, but I hope He comes out on top.

Gone or not, my heart still breaks for you.

You were my church.

More On Grad School

2011-10-25T20:25:00.000-05:00

Feel free to skip this whole post if you don't want to read anything about grad school.

The whole process of grad school has really taught me something:

Being the only person in the room with something to learn sucks.

I'm not being metaphysical here. Sure, we all have something to learn, but I'm talking about higher education--particularly classes that expect attendees to have a strong knowledge of a particular literary canon before beginning. Unfortunately, my knowledge isn't exactly strong.

Take Kafka's The Trial for example. I read The Trial in my U of I days--circa 2000. Since that's been eleven years ago, I think I deserve points for even remembering Kafka is the author. But I can't tell you a blessed thing about the book this many years after the fact.

Therefore, I'm already behind in a game that expects precursory knowledge. Not only do I have to read all the required literature for the class, in some instances, I actually have to reacquaint myself with things long since past in my memory. And that doesn't even take into account the pieces I've never encountered.

There's another side to this coin, though. My coworkers are encouraging just to switch to Curriculum and Instruction as opposed to English. I always swore I would never go back to C & I because of the inane garbage I was fed during my undergrad. But it goes so much further than that. And it may be pride related. I keep wondering: how can I teach a subject I can't survive in graduate school?

I don't really care if I can ever add master's degree to my credentials. I don't care if I move over on the pay scale. Don't get me wrong. Those things would be nice, but I'm not completely sold on any of them. The thing is, if I do get a master's, I really wanted it to be in English. Really. Really. And I can't explain that at all.

Suffice it to say I'm drowning and I have no knowledge that will pull me out of this particular rip tide. Oh, and my presentation tonight? Well, it wasn't good. But sadly, it was the best I could do.

I find that slightly depressing.

Hey, At Least It's a Post

2011-10-24T18:11:00.000-05:00

Since English II is watching Hotel Rwanda, I spent several hours grading papers today. And grading papers. And grading papers. And grading more papers. I have a few stacks to go, but there's no shame in taking a break this evening when I spent so much time working earlier today?

You answer, and I'll pretend your answer counts.

Until then, it's 6pm and I'm contemplating laying in bed and reading until it's time to go to sleep. And before you mention it, yes, I realize my life took a wrong turn somewhere.

I came home and ate comfort food (even though I know better) for no better reason than I felt like it. I probably should've screamed I do what I want while I was in the process of eating, but that would only give the dog and ulcer and he's about to go stark raving mad over the deer who insist on walking through my back yard. Which reminds me: it's the little things, isn't it?

It's getting cold outside. I ordered a new winter coat. I spent a long time debating whether or not I was going to buy the black coat. Black is classy. It's slimming. It goes with almost everything so there's no worry about a fashion faux pas. (Unless you wear brown. I don't.)

But then I realized I needed a little more red in my life. I need a little bright and cheerful. I need a little less black. Forget matching everything. How about a little spice? So I did it. I ordered a red coat. And now I await its arrival. Because life is a waiting game, ladies and gentlemen.

Budgeting with Dave Ramsey

2011-10-23T16:47:00.000-05:00

Favorite and I are decent with money. We plan well enough to pay our bills, including an overage on our mortgage, and put a fairly substantial amount in a savings account. But we lack when it comes to what's left over. We don't worry about how much we spend at the grocery store or how many times a week we go. We eat out a lot. A. Lot. We spent money on our favorite recreational activities without giving them a second thought and don't really stick to any sort of budget. We also have a credit card, but have committed to paying it off every single month no matter what (which sometimes means dipping into that savings we should be using for other things).

Short story? We're spoiled. And we know it.

When we first got married, we had no money and bills that were difficult to pay on Chris' salary alone so I became a budgeting guru.

Fast forward five years and I'm realizing I really need to invest more time in considering my budget for a couple of reasons:

Budgeting allows us to save a substantial amount of money comfortably. We don't have to dip into savings and we can accrue an emergency fund (hopefully a hefty one).
Budgeting will give us greater freedom to consider housing upgrades (hello patio! And deck! And hot tub! You get the point!).
Budgeting will allow us to add a third car so Favorite can quit trying to drive his gas guzzling farm truck back and forth to work.
Budgeting will allow us to honestly consider the worth of purchases so we can hopefully pay cash for larget purchases in the future.
Budgeting will allow us to give more freely to others.

I've considered Dave Ramsey's approach to budgeting for a while due to a weekly article I read (written by a local guy whose simple writing has really helped me to understand the concept of money). But after reading this post from The Lumberjack's Wife, I committed to giving it a shot. And before you ask, yes it is extremely shallow to start budgeting just to buy a new wallet.

But if you're interested in that sort of thing:

This is my cash envelope wallet from Melissa at A Time for Everything. (A couple words on Melissa: she was amazing. UH-MAZE-ING. She emailed me no less than three times to answer questions and even credited my account because I didn't read thoroughly and she didn't think it was fair to overcharge me. I haven't gotten the wallet yet, but it shipped in record time--I should see it Tuesday--and she committed herself to customer service the whole way.)

Here's what I love about Ramsey's cash envelope system: you create a zero-based budget (every dollar is allocated to something specific). After creating your budget, you determine which categories are going to be cash categories. For us, housing costs, utilities, savings and my school loan are paid online by using a debit card. Also, medical bills are paid by check or debit card and I pay my car payment by check every month. Those categories don't require me to keep cash on hand.

The categories we're focusing on regarding cash are these:

Groceries
Gas
Clothing
Personal
Recreation

Every time Favorite gets paid, we get a certain percentage of that money in cash for these categories. When the money in that category is gone, we're done. For example, if we've allotted $150 for groceries for that pay period, once we spent $150, we don't grocery shop anymore. My hope is that it will keep us from spending unecessary amounts of money. (I work our budget on Favorite's pay schedule because he gets paid on the 15th and the 30th. It get paid every two weeks so it's easier to work on his schedule than mine as his is more predictable.)

Of course, this new budget is also encouraging me to consider other money saving ideas.

Make a list. I'm notorious for going the grocery store without a list. That's going to stop, because I end up spending money on things I don't need. Here's the deal: I can't buy the cheapest item when it comes to certain things. Favorite breaks out when we change detergent or soap so I don't play around with trying new ones. We get what we get. Therefore, it's necessary for me to consider how to save money on those items and in other areas. A list is the best way to make that happen.

Coupons. I have no intention of becoming an extreme couponer. I don't have that kind of time. But it wouldn't hurt me at all to save the money I can by cutting the coupons available to me.

Vinegar. People probably wonder how I'm saving money with vinegar, but I have an amazing answer for you. I no longer buy clorox wipes, rinse agents for the dishwasher, kitchen cleaners, etc. In fact, that only cleaning products I purchase outside of vinegar are Windex (so great for cleaning hardwood floors) and bathroom cleaners (I haven't found an alternative to those yet). Vinegar is a multipurpose product that costs under a dollor for a gallon; it's cost effective. It is safer than bleach and does a better job of cleaning (particularly when it comes to mold--not even kidding...look it up). It's completely non-toxic for anyone who is concerned about kids--no ventilation necessary. It gets rid of weird smells, and when it dries leaves no after-odor. It will leave your dishes spotless, up the ante on bleach in the washer by helping whiten clothes, and will even serve as a fabric softener. When you calculate all the money I'm saving by avoiding the products I was buying previously, you might be willing to give vinegar a shot for a month. (I mix it with baking soda to disinfect sinks, etc.)

I'll try to revisit this topic once a month or once every other month to let you know how it's going. I truly believe the reason most people don't budget is because the process isn't simple enough. My question is how much simpler does it get than alloting certain amounts of cash and spending until it's gone?

A Bit of a Restart

2011-10-22T21:50:00.000-05:00

I don't know how I moved from posting something every day to posting something once every two weeks or so. I guess time has gotten away from me, but, oddly enough, I've felt every second tick by. These last few weeks have been full weeks--not in a hectic-I'm-complaining-because-I-don't-have-enough-time way. I've just had a few events a more considerations on my plate.

First of all, my brother married Sheena...then they moved. And while I have lots of fantastic things to say about their wedding (meaning I may post pictures sometime before I die), I was terribly sorry to see them leave. It's possible to love people and be so grateful for what will very well become an epoch in their live together while mourning what will no longer be. And that's where I am. I miss them. I'm so grateful for what is, and I would never want to rewind for multiple reasons, but I can't lie about the fact that I miss the way things were 5 years ago. It's a new stage--one that's going to require me to get out of my house from time to time, because Kate is still here, and I can't see her if I hole up in my living room every night.

My professor told me I wasn't stupid. Ok...that's not exactly how it went down, but I did preview the information for my presentation on Tuesday and he told me he was pleased. I'll take it. I'm no genius, and I'm well aware of my deficiencies in this class. So if he's pleased, I'm ecstatic.

I'm so far behind on grading, I may never see the light of day again. How do I forget every year how hectic fall semester is? Why did I believe adding a grad class would be a good idea? How am I SO far behind?! Despite those questions, I'm loving this school year. LOVING. IT. My students are open, honest and fun. They are a reminder of everything that is great about education. Sure, they occasionally forget things or blow off work. I'm just speaking from an overall point of view.

And that's all I have for an update. I'm not sure if I'll get better at this whole blogging things in the next week, but I'm going to make an honest effort to try. In the meantime, pray for me. Favorite and I are still looking for a church home, and we'd appreciate all of the encouragement you could give us. I'm ready to put this particular journey to rest.

The Letter Series: To The Parents of my Students

2011-10-11T20:37:00.000-05:00

A former student stopped by my classroom today and I had the opportunity to laugh with him over his current college experience. When he left, and I went to sit at my desk, I smiled to myself and thought about what my role in his life is...or was.

I've never really taken the opportunity to thank the parents of my students, but I probably should.

Dear Parents and Guardians,

Because of you, my job is a privilege.

I don't mean that tongue in cheek at all. My job really is a privilege.

I have the opportunity to witness some of the best parts of your teenagers' lives. I get to giggle during homecoming, dance at prom and blink a little faster at graduation. But those are really only the highlights.

On a daily basis, I laugh with these students. We laugh over dating mishaps, discussions about pornography (strictly educational, I promise) and weird football nicknames. We laugh over my inability to be graceful and their inability to filter conversation. (Wait. I can't filter conversation either.) We laugh because of successes, and we manage to laugh over stupid trivia contests that never quite end the way I imagined.

I've been challenged by their views. You may not believe it, but these students are precocious bunch. They are concerned about your unemployment and the cost of electricity. They know that it's necessary to clip coupons and watch the grocery bill. They get that the current state of the economy doesn't just affect someone somewhere--it affects their families and this community. They may not be voting or passing laws, but they are certainly interested in war and the United States' involvement in those wars. They worry about loved ones who are deployed and whether those same loved ones will make it home.

They are great conversationalists. We've discussed everything from grammar issues to cancer; rhetorical devices to loss. They are masters at navigating the classroom requirements and still manage to approach my class with a serious demeanor that leaves space for humor. And speaking of humor? They know how to use it. Mostly appropriately. And more often than not, defuse tense situations with it.

They are conscientious, and I love them for it.
They are funny, and I love them for it.
They are attentive and interesting and honest and open to learning. You are so privileged to have the opportunity to raise them. I'm just grateful I get to be a player in the game, because those students change who I am and the way I approach others. I learned to accept, push, discipline, praise and instruct because of your kid.

During a conversation with another grad student, I was faced with this question: "With all of the new requirements for high school students, will you eventually think about leaving your job to avoid the stress?"

I thought for a few seconds and then gave the response that popped into my head the moment the question was out of his mouth.

No. I can't. I'm all in. I expect that from them. And they should expect it from me.

But mostly, I feel privileged to enjoy what is likely the best part of you. I truly hope you recognize the perspicacious group of human beings you have on your hands. Thanks for sharing them.

To Testify

2011-09-27T08:01:00.000-05:00

The concept of testimony boils down to one word: evidence. Evidence for the things that you've seen. Evidence for what you've heard. Basically, whatever you've been witness to that bears testifying.

Saturday, at STBSIL's Bachelorette party, I had the opportunity to share part of my testimony. It wasn't something I had intended to do, but the opportunity presented itself so I didn't shy away.

Today, I just keep thinking that I was able to laugh through so much of what I told her and believe that PCOS may be some distant dream in the near future. But what I can't explain are days like today. Days when it feels like the nightmare will never end and you're stuck trying to find the quickest way out knowing that exits are blocked.

But these days are as much a part of my testimony as my belief that God is good.

What I wonder more than anything is how those testimonies affect perception. If I were to tell you that I've spent the last 6 1/2 years longing for a child only to lose one and I still believe God is good would that cause you believe I'm more of a Christian than if I told you I'm not sure the last 6 1/2 years have been worth it, I can't see what God is doing and I'm afraid He's not listening to my prayers? Because each of those things make up my reality on a given day.

When I testify to my belief that God is truly good, I don't want people to believe that I've got it figured out or I never struggle with being in limbo. (Or even the concept that limbo can be a permanent place?) There are a lot of days when I would rather pull my blankets over my head and pretend I don't have people who depend on me. Actually, there are some days when I don't get a lot of choice in the matter. Physical movement probably isn't going to be possible. But surely those things don't mean that I don't believe He's good?

If my life is meant to give evidence to the fact that He is good, I fear days like this: days when I may seem less than grateful, less than capable of showing the beauty that can come from ashes. But then I also wonder if these aren't the days when that is most apparent. How can beauty be appreciated if the ashes were never visible?

Maybe what I should testify to is the limbo. Right now, I'm standing in the middle and I can see ashes on one side and beauty on the other (and hope the latter will be the permanent reality). But that's not what every day looks like for me. And I think I would testify to lies if I told you I had this whole thing figured out and I'm at a complete place of peace.

Though, it is what I hope for.

Prayer Monday 9/26

2011-09-25T20:30:00.000-05:00

Big Bro left about seven this morning to head to his new home in Ohio. We had a nice breakfast send off, and we are all (as a family) anticipating great things for him in a new place. He's making a home and a life for himself, and I think that's fantastic.

But we'll miss him. He's such a constant, steadfast person. And we become comfortable with what we know.

Please pray for him as he makes adjustments. Pray for my STBSIL as she makes her way without him for the next few weeks.

We're still praying for confirmation regarding a church. We didn't go this morning because we were up fairly early to say goodbye to Big Bro, and Favorite had to work today. So it was a better idea to catch some sleep before a family dinner with his family. Next Sunday will be a different ballgame.

Pray for our family. Changes abound, ya'll. And while we're happy for so many of them, there's an element of fear that accompanies a lot of change all at once. We would certainly covet your prayers for peace in so many different ways.

Show Us Your Life: Shopping

2011-09-23T07:53:00.000-05:00

So my body? Isn't shaped normally. I am chesty, hippy and, this just in, have a gut that just doesn't quit. (See what I did there?) That means that buying clothes--correction--MODEST clothes can be a bit of a challenge.

Over the years I've learned a couple of things about dressing this body of mine. Part of that means spending a little extra money for pieces that I will wear continuously that are also high quality.

That means that one of my favorite places to look for clothes is L.L. Bean. I generally wait until they are having a sale, but I have gotten the best 3/4 sleeve cardigans out there. They are classic with bright colors and look nice with work pants or jeans. Occasionally, I will purchase shirts there, too, but only if they are on sale.

Recently, I've become a pretty big fan of Kohl's. Here's the deal: I like a lot of plus size stores, and since I'm technically a plus size girl, I should be able to shop there. The problem is the shirts. The shoulders are almost always too big for the rest of my body so they are ill fitting. Pants? Not generally an issue. So a place like Kohl's gives me the chance to get my plus size pants and a regular size shirt so my entire body looks like it's dressed decently.

I look for mix and match pieces at places like Macy's and Penney's. I like to know that what I'm buying isn't necessarily an "outfit." I'm never sure what's going to be clean or if I'm going to have time to do laundry so I need my closet to reflect those needs. My pants are generally black or gray and I have a couple of dark gray pinstriped versions.

But jewelry can make or break you. I've bought several pieces from Lia Sophia and a few others were gifts from my husband over the years. Jewelry is the route to go to dress up an outfit or make it a little fun or funky. You can make a tshirt from Target look awesome with the right accessories.

That said, I do buy tshirts, cardigans and other types of shirts at Target or Walmart. I think if you find something cute, there's no reason to pass it up because it's in a discount store!

Mostly, I think it's about the fit and feel. I'm very careful to cover my chest area and I make sure my clothing has enough give so it doesn't cling to the less than desirable parts of my body.

At the end of the day, I guess I wear what makes me comfortable--no matter the price point :)

Suggestions for an oddly shaped fat girl? Leave them in the comments or shoot me an email: cryshsmn@aol.com.

The Unlikely Disciple: The Eye Opening Experience

2011-09-21T19:10:00.000-05:00

A while back, I picked up the book The Unlikely Disciple: A Sinner's Semester at America's Holiest University by Kevin Roose.

In it, Roose recounts a semester-long project in which he infiltrates Liberty University--Jerry Falwell's own conservative Christian school. He describes himself as someone who "grew up in the ultimate secular/liberal family (my parents are Quakers who used to work for Ralph Nader), and I went to Brown University – a school that, by Falwellian standards, is only a notch or two above Sodom and Gomorrah."

I'm not sure what I expected when I opened to the first chapter, but I was sure I knew whether or not Roose would convert before I read the last pages. What I found in the interim was a deeply moving lesson regarding the "outsider's" view of conservative Christianity.

To call a spade a spade, I would have to honestly tell you that my mouth is my biggest problem. Sometimes it works sans filter. Correction. Often it works sans filter. But I can't seem to get this scripture out of my mind: "Those who consider themselves religious and yet do not keep a tight rein on their tongues deceive themselves, and their religion is worthless" (James 1:26).

It bothers me. I haven't done much about it, but Roose's book made it a little hard to ignore. His major issue was the generous use of the words "gay" or "queer" as an insult to other guys in the dorm. Those things were particularly insulting to him because he was very close to his two lesbian aunts--two women who would've found that language reprehensible.

What I wonder is why the Christian community doesn't find this language just as reprehensible? If we're truly called to be set apart, and different, and we're expected to "keep [our] tongues from evil
and [our] lips from deceitful speech," how do we become so married to obviously perjorative phrases (1 Peter 3:10)?

Truthfully, I think it's due to lack of vigilance. We don't always consider the weight of our words. We've forgotten the charge laid on us in Titus: ^"In everything set them an example by doing what is good. In your teaching show integrity, seriousness and soundness of speech that cannot be condemned, so that those who oppose you may be ashamed because they have nothing bad to say about us" (Titus 2:7-8).

I hate to give any of my readers a spoiler, but the chances are good that I won't internalize this concept over night. Or in a week. And since I've been stewing on it for about a month, I think it's pretty safe to say that it's going to be a while before there is an effective follow through.

To be fair, words weren't Roose's only issue. He encountered a lot of great guys who confessed Christ, but spent more time on personal lusts or gains than in scripture. While I'd like to say that issues like this one are subject to young men on college campuses, the chances that someone would have the same experience after a semester with me is likely. Highly. Likely.

Were there great examples of Christ? Absolutely. And some of them really did impact Roose more deeply than I think he's able to articulate in the book. In fact, I would venture to say that many of those "Christian" experiences have opened his eyes, too. Thank God that's the case. I'd hate to think I was the only one who got an eye opening experience out of his words.

In short, which this post totally isn't, you should read it. For a hundred different reasons. Whether you believe Christ or not. Because we could all use a message in what it is to be genuine.

Which is a lesson I suppose Roose learned, too.

There's No I in Team

2011-09-20T20:30:00.000-05:00

Last night, a couple of coworkers and I ate dinner and then headed back to our local school board meeting. We were anticipating a bit of a stressful night that revolved around test scores and, unfortunately, a discussion of AYP.

Our principal and one of my coworkers were armed with tables, charts, graphs--basically more information than could be processed in an hour.

My coworkers and I were armed with a love for our jobs and a real desire to do it well.

We explained. We shared our position. They listened.

Then, oh and then, they related to us. They didn't just get it. They commented. They shared personal experiences and they shared opinions.

I wanted to stand up and scream, "YES! Yes, it would be more beneficial if parents were more involved. Yes, slow readers really don't perform well on this test even if they are thorough readers. Yes, we are reevaluating our curriculum and adapting where it seems necessary, but no, we're not willing to disregard the fact that we aren't just preparing students for a test."

It was a light bulb moment. But more than anything, it made me proud to be part of a team.

Prayer Monday 9/19

2011-09-18T21:07:00.001-05:00

*Note To New Readers: Prayer Monday is NOT a closed group. Participate by sharing some of your requests on your blog and linking to this list. Then, read, say a quick prayer and comment on each participant's blog. We could all use a little encouragement and a lot of prayer.*

Favorite and I visited another church on Sunday. A friend of ours actually attends this church, and we decided to give it a shot because it is a multi-ethnic church and Kevin has made such a great home there.

It was definitely a different experience for us. Nothing like what we're used to, but I came away from that service with one thing firmly planted in my mind: those people love Jesus. They do. Unabashedly. Unapologetically. And that relationship gives them a genuine love for other people.

Everyone was joyful. It was easy to tell that they really believed in what they were doing. I spent most of the service holding back tears because God's presence was palpable. I just kept wondering: how long has it been?

We're going back next Sunday because we had to leave the service early so Favorite could get to work. Then we're going to revisit the church we went to last Sunday so we can make a final decision. I'll be honest. It's going to be a tough decision. We would appreciate your prayers as we try to follow God's leading. We also covet your prayers for our former home church.

Big Bro is spending his last week at home. He leaves next Sunday for the next chapter in his life. Pray for STBSIL since she will be staying here until after the wedding. Favorite and I know how hard it is to be apart, and this will be something new for them. Also, Big Bro will be starting his job--you know, the one you all prayed for :)

God's hand is heavy on our lives right now. I know that's always the case, but sometimes it's easier to feel. This is one of those times. It's clear these things have been orchestrated by the Almighty and we want to glorify Him for His goodness. We'd like to see Him continue moving in several other situations, too.

I appreciate your prayers for us :)

Show Us Your Life: Favorite Bible Studies

2011-09-16T10:23:00.000-05:00

Hi, Kelly's Korner :) (I've got a bit of a preface here, and then I'll get to the actual purpose of this post.)

If you've been reading this blog for a week, you know that we're in a season of change. By "we," I pretty much mean everyone in my immediate circle of love. Part of that, for a few of us, means finding a new church home.

I'm not super in love with the idea of looking for a new place, because I like being comfortable. I like that I was dedicated in my current church. I like that I know people, and their histories. I like going to church with most of my family.

But more than anything, I have loved facilitating Women's Bible Study over the last several years. I've tried to explain what they mean to me, but I feel like most of my words come up short. Truly--there is nothing like sharing the word of God and your life with women who are making an investment in themselves, in you, in the Word and in a community of believers.

Leaving means I will be letting this ministry go. I've cried more over the loss of that support system than I have over just about anything else.

In the time that I've facilitated Bible study we've done (that I can remember):
* Breaking Free by Beth Moore
* Living Beyond Yourself by Beth Moore
* Jesus the One and Only by Beth Moore
* Stepping Up by Beth Moore
* The Patriarchs by Beth Moore
* Esther by Beth Moore
* Seeking A Heart Like His by Beth Moore
* Believing God by Beth Moore
* He Speaks to Me by Priscilla Shirer
* Conversation Peace

I can honestly say that each study met me where I was and spoke to particular needs. But the ones that continually resonate with me are Living Beyond Yourself and Seeking A Heart Like His. The latter is the most recent study, and there are so many things that hit home with me (and likely more than I missed). I just needed to hear those tender words.

I plan to revisit Living Beyond Yourself and Seeking a Heart Like His at some point in time. And I'm praying that I will have the opportunity to get involved in a group like this when God leads us to our new home.

Theory...or lack of

2011-09-14T20:25:00.000-05:00

I've spent my day grading papers, reading about deconstructinist theory and contemplating the fact that the really disturbing thing about trauma is the fact that you don't really experience it until you are absent from the event that caused it in the first place.

Thank you grad school for fixing my ability to converse like a normal human being. I'm going to spend the next three days adding "that's what she said" to the end of every sentence to keep myself from getting absorbed in material I only half understand.

I wish I still believed that what doesn't kill me only makes me stronger. Too bad I put that theory to rest last year or I would be drowning in the ocean while trying to use it as my flotation device.

Speaking of flotation devices: does anyone have a good topic for Holocaust literature that leans heavily toward the theoretical? I can only tread water for so long...

The Update I Promised

2011-09-12T19:42:00.000-05:00

There are several things going on that I've been wanting to flesh out here, but sometimes grading, laundry and lack of words get in the way.

Last night, I ugly cried with Big Brother. We knew it was coming. He and his STBwife would be making a home in Ohio, and we would have to learn to navigate the distance. Hopefully gracefully. Knowing me, probably not.

He commented how just a year ago he couldn't see how these things would pan out. When all of his plans fell through, he couldn't see anything. But while he couldn't see anything, God was ordering his steps. Ten years ago, when he never imagined what today would look like, God ordered his steps. And now? It seems a little like God is willing to pull back the veil and give us a brief glance at the pattern.

That's likely naive. But what we've seen to this point is beautiful.

While we were ugly crying, Ronnie and I came to the realization that change, the most difficult thing we'll ever do, can be the very thing that allows us the opportunity to see the pattern. And sometimes, all the events that led to that change give us the very same opportunity.

Not so long ago, I posted that I believed this is a season of change for us. I dreaded it and anticipated it at the same time.

And now?

Now, I'm embracing it. And not because I'm some amazingly accepting human being, either. I'm embracing it because I don't have any other option.

But also because the wind is blowing a different direction these days, and I've learned to appreciate the breeze when it comes.

Oh, and the church thing? We visited one on Sunday we actually liked. It felt like family. We'd like to try one more before we make any final decisions.

Until then, I'm keeping the proverbial windows open and enjoying the crisp air.

Prayer Monday 9/12

2011-09-12T07:56:00.000-05:00

I'll be back later today to post something else, but I forgot to schedule this last night and I wanted to get this up and running for those who participate.

Today, my brother and STBSIL fly to Ohio to find a place to live. God has clearly ordered their steps to this point, and we believe He will continue to do so as they try to find a new residence. All I ask is that you pray peace in their hearts and a sense of "this-is-it" when they find their new home...oh, and that it will feel like coming home when they step in the door.

I feel like there are some really cool turn-arounds going on in my Christian journey. I'll try to post later tonight to give you a quick update and post some pictures of the first wedding shower :)

For now, link up.

Accomplishments

2011-09-10T11:28:00.000-05:00

Oat night I did something that made me more proud than anything I've ever done before.

I gave Favorite a wedgie in the middle of Walmart.

Yes it was as amazing as it sounds.

I'm Not Gonna Lie: It's a List

2011-09-07T18:26:00.000-05:00

Normally, I would wield some compelling story about something funny that happened to me in front of the school tech guy that involved my husband over the phone and a pretty intimate joke that the tech guy actually heard because my husband was talking AS LOUD AS HE POSSIBLY COULD, therefore requiring said tech guy to say he didn't hear anything when IN FACT HE HEARD EVERYTHING but today, I'm not going to do that.

Today, I'm going to give you a list. I'm going to ask for suggestions. I'm going to hope this spurs creativity.

* Grad school is going better. The professor stopped me in the parking lot the other day to let me know that I'm doing fine. I'll be honest: it was nice to have the encouragement. I'm clearly out of my element, and even though he realizes it, he's gracious enough to let me find my way. God bless him.

* I have a bet with a student who believes I can't tell the difference between a paper he spent 30 minutes on and a paper he spent 1 hr and 30 minutes on. We took bets. Most of the class seems to have great faith in my deciphering ability.

* I was going to wait, but I ordered bedding for my guest room. Wanna see it?

I was looking for something in a green or an orange, and I love the bluey-turquoisey accents in this piece. It will go nicely with the paint color in the guest room. And this means that I can finally start working on the guest room. I'm envisioning some really great stuff in there. For one, blue ceramic tables as night stands (like the one in the picture below):

(TO AMBER: I didn't settle for bedding, and I'm SO happy! This is definitely the same color family that I hoped for, and I got a really good deal on it.)

* My brother and STBSIL leave soon to house hunt in Ohio. I'm hoping they fall in love with something that's just "them."

* I don't enjoy looking for a new church. I had a few things to say here about looking, but I certainly don't enjoy the process. Why can't there just be a church called "This is the perfect church for you" and you go there and know that's exactly where you're supposed to be? I guess it boils down to the fact that I just want to do the right thing. I want to follow God's leading. So we're walking until we're clear.

* I was aggravated with my current university for not posting my tuition waiver to my account. Then I realized the fax didn't go through. Yes. Yes, I am delayed.

* A few students at my school wanted to start an online school paper this school year. I decided it sounded like a good use of time and volunteered myself to head up that project. We are supposed to launch on Friday (and will hopefully be on schedule). So far, the articles are really impressive. I just got one today that blew my mind. They are working so hard and I really hope this is a successful venture. (And if you have any advice on wordpress, let me know. That's the tool we're using for the paper.)

* My car has been acting weird. Come to find out, it needs new struts. Oh, and due to the struts, my tires have worn badly and need to be replaced. Total cost for said project? $1200. It's a little ouch over here.

I welcome comments on any and all subjects. Let's converse.

Jiggle It

2011-09-06T20:21:00.000-05:00

This is a world full of ego maniacs. People need to have their ego stroked to work well, or, in some cases, work at all. I find it increasingly frustrating that an entire subgroup of people exist who simply need the rest of us to tell us how great they are when they may not, in fact, be great at all.

On Fridays, I try to get home as fast as possible, because Favorite is home and we get to hang out. Plus, it's the weekend. But this past Friday? I sat in the parking lot while my ignition refused to turn.

No matter what I did (and I tried a great many things), that stupid key refused to budge.

I made sure my car was in park. I turned the steering wheel. I wiggled the key. I turned harder.

And for my effort? I got a blister on my finger.

I finally broke down and called Favorite. He drove all the way into town (about 15 minutes), got in my car and started it right up.

I narrowed my eyes and asked, "Why would it work for you?"

He said, "You have to jiggle it."

"I DID jiggle it."

"Yeah," he said. "But you have to jiggle it a specific way to get it to turn. It has to be really fast and then you have to turn back before you turn forward."

So what did I learn from this experience?

My ignition doesn't just need to be stroked; it needs to be stroked with precison. Therefore? My ignition is a bastard ego maniac.

Which I guess is a valuable lesson for a Friday.

On Finding A Church Home

2011-09-03T22:17:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow, Favorite and I are visiting another church. The thing is, we aren't really looking for a church. We're looking for a home. It's hard to articulate the particular set of needs that goes with finding a church home or a church family. Like most people, I think it's like love--you know it when you get there.

Choosing to find a new home was difficult--not just the place we would choose, but making the decision to choose at all.

We just found ourselves in a set of life circumstances that couldn't be anticipated. First, when doctors told us to adopt because we'd never have biological children. Secondly, when we miraculously found ourselves pregnant and then failed to see that heart continue beating.

Those circumstances aren't rare. They aren't special. But something broke when those things happened to us. And to be honest, it was difficult to believe that God could possibly be good when what looked like a miracle literally died in front of our eyes. Those may not be good or healthy thought processes. But they were real.

Dark. But real.

For the last year and a half, we haven't just coped. I would certainly use that word to describe the first few months, and it makes an appearance on what would have been major milestones. But the word I would use is grace. They have been grace-filled moments of God sweetly drawing Favorite and me to Himself.

Ministry is usually described in a vocational light. But we came to understand that the real ministry during this time period came from the people who called to see how we were. People who came over and watched movies. People who remembered our loss and acknowledged that loss is loss--no matter the time period. People who taught us to smile and laugh again. People who were consistently tender and understanding--even a year in.

Those people fed us. Now we're looking for a home where the same thing can happen--and where we can do a bit of feeding ourselves.

We're still broken. Healed doesn't mean the cracks aren't visible. But unanticipated situations have a way of letting the light shine through the cracks. And that's just enough light to walk in.

Show Us Your Life: Favorite Blogs

2011-09-02T13:46:00.000-05:00

I love blogs. It's probably sad that a little computer screen keeps me connected to reality (is that even possible?). Oh well. I guess I just love the fact that those who write about their lives tend to sit down and find the humor (or the lesson) in a situation before writing. Personally, that's what I appreciate about blogging. Well, that and the delete button.

People from "Real" Life

Kate is a friend of mine who is a guru in all things media--particularly celebrities. Want to know something about a popular television show or band? She's your girl. Interested in life as a middle school teacher? She knows where it's at. Want information on how to cook raw meat? I'd look elsewhere.

Sheena is my STBSIL. She and my brother will be moving to Ohio to start a completely new life soon. Her blog will be a necessity when it comes to communication. Oh, and she's started talking about hilarious topics like torque and racing. Who says ghetto redneck isn't a possibility? (Only kidding. I just think it's funny when girls from the ghetto comment on NASCAR.)

Eventually, my friend Casey is going to answer her calling in the food industry. Until then, take advantage of her willingness to share her genius over the world wide web.

People I Stalk (And I mean that in the most Christ-like of ways)

E, Myself and I is a constant amusement. She recently gave birth to her first child (a son--Sam), and offers full disclosure about her self esteem, joy and job. AND, she manages to do it with a smile on her face.

Becoming Sarah is a blog about a girl and her girl. She's brilliant and hippie and crunchy and all those wonderful things I fail at every single day. She recently suffered a miscarriage, but walked her audience through the process with such brilliant works of prose, I wanted to ask her if she's a published author.

Who doesn't love Young House Love? Not only am I a fan of their DIY craziness, I'm caught up in all the amazing pictures they've posted of their home. I've been in mine for almost a year and my guest bath still doesn't have a mirror. Do they make house calls?

Over at Mabel's House, Liz has just sent her sister back to Japan for another year long adventure. Her posts are always short, picture-filled and positive. Her pictures of food make me salivate. Oh, and she might be the reason I insist on eating tomato salads in the dead of summer. (PS. Mabel is actually the dog...)

Chapters is a blog about a girl. A girl who is physically fit. A girl who helps others become physically fit. On top of those things (which are feats in and of themselves), she's a Christian who is gracefully dancing down the road of infertility. And I mean that exactly the way it sounded. If I could do anything in life with as much grace as she's handled that horrific situation, the Catholic church would saint me while I was still breathing.

Of course, I read a ton of other things that are hilarious (Hyperbole and a Half, anyone?). You only need check my sidebar to find a few of them. But these are the ones I never, ever miss. (Of course, I also read Kelly's Korner, Katie's Keepers and BigMama religiously.) Check them out. Leave them a comment.

Oh, and just so I feel important, leave me a comment, too?

One More

2011-09-01T20:27:00.000-05:00

Favorite is home, so I don't want to waste too much time on here, but after yesterday's post, I thought I'd give you a little surprise.

Down another pound as of this morning.

Isn't that awesome?! It's coming off. Slowly, but surely. And this time, I feel like I'm really committing to eating better food--whole food instead of convenience crap.

Four pounds isn't a lot, but it's 16 sticks of butter. And when you put it in that kind of perspective, it feels pretty awesome.

Short and Squat

2011-08-31T17:19:00.000-05:00

Warning: Whining to Follow

A while ago, I posted this picture:

I was upset, because it was clear that I'd gained weight.

Today, I got my first glance at the new yearbook, and I was shocked at what I saw. There is a picture of me in an ugly Christmas sweater, and I'm clearly the fattest person in the picture.

In fact, I was surprised at how tiny my head looked in comparison to the rest of my body.

I am L-A-R-G-E. And it's not really even all over--it's in my bottom end. Which, unfortunately, makes me look even bigger. Simply put, my fat is not evenly dispersed and that probably makes me look shorter and squatter. (PS. I don't care if squatter is a real word.)

The upside is that I'm working on it. The downside is that I'm living the mean time, and I'd like to take fewer pictures of myself.

Neck up, anyone?

A Weekly Update From Grad School #1

2011-08-30T21:12:00.000-05:00

Have I mentioned I'm reliving all of my high school insecurities, except this time I'm sitting in a room with people in their mid to late 20s?

I had forgotten how paranoid I could be, but there it is. I'm paranoid. Oh, hold on to your seat. It gets worse.

I spend my entire day telling my students not to be embarrassed to ask questions. I tell them that we're all just here to learn and there's no shame in clarifying information. I tell them I won't think they're stupid if they ask me questions and it's my job to guide them through whatever process/information we're learning at the time.

BUT...

I don't want to talk to my professor. I don't want to ask him questions because he may think I'm stupid. It would be completely devastating to hear that I don't belong in this class. And even though I'm here to learn, I naturally expect that I'm going to know everything before I have the opportunity to learn it.

Sick, isn't it? Hypocrisy knows no limits.

(And now I'm going to email my professor. You can't hear disapproval in type face.)

Learning to Eat

2011-08-29T19:39:00.000-05:00

The requirements for Weight Watchers used to be different. When I first started the program (in 8th grade), there was a prescribed amount of protein, dairy, grain, etc. one was supposed to eat a meal. I didn't stick with the diet long in those days. Likely because they limited my orange juice intake and I couldn't figure out where cream cheese fit on my plate.

When I next joined the program, Points had taken over. Enrollees could eat whatever they pleased as long as they didn't exceed their daily allotment of points. Life was good. I could have my cream cheese and eat it, too.

This, of course, might be why I'm 31 years old and have no idea how to eat.

Enter my Bento.

A lunchbox isn't a magical spell that all of a sudden enables the possesser to radically modify his/her diet. But the concept around the Bento made sense to me. And, as stupid as it may sound, it's teaching me.

So far, I'm down almost 3 lbs. But what I'm more proud of? I've eaten more fruits and veggies in the last three weeks than I've likely consumed in the last three years of my life. (I'm excluding salads here. Nary a salad has been found in my box.) Even more impressive? I'm consuming more protein than I've ever been willing to eat. And one rule I try to stick to? My lunch has to be as colorful as possible. Some days I'm more successful than others.

One cheat day per week (usually Friday night dinner) has kept me from consuming white sugar, white flour and white potatoes every single other day of the week--even when I eat out.

I'm really proud of those three pounds. But I think I'm more proud of the fact that I'm actually sticking to my resolution to eat better. And I'm especially excited to know that I may actually be responsible for something that can help heal my PCOS (though I have to credit God with much of what's happened already).

Next time, I'll try to post some pictures so you can see exactly what has made it into the Bento.

Prayer Monday 8/29

2011-08-29T07:57:00.000-05:00

"We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans" (Romans 8:26).

I don't know how to tell you what I need, but I know my life isn't as in tune as it should be. I want to be OK with God's plan for my life, but there are moments when I struggle with desires I honestly have wished would just go away if they aren't part of His plan for me.

I struggle with being overjoyed at His provision and upset that provision can be a game-changer.

I miss my closeness to Him.

And you? Where are you?

Roots and Wings

2011-08-27T20:18:00.000-05:00

My new shoes did a good enough job on my foot that it's now swollen and a little infected. I guess I should've treated the sore. So this evening, I've sat on the couch with my foot in a bowl of peroxide boiling out whatever might have infected my foot.

And I'm going to sit here and talk about that so I don't have the talk about the fact that my brother is leaving.

He got a job, and there is no one of this planet who is happier for him than I am. A hundred years ago, when he left school I knew he would eventually find something that would suit him. I knew he would be fantastic at it. I guess I just didn't know it would take him ten hours away

Today, as my STBSIL tried on her wedding gown in front of us, I thought about what a blessing they are. I thought about how lucky Ohio will be to get them. And I thought about how very much I'm going to miss them.

I guess the problem with putting down roots is that sometimes the people you love the most grow wings.

A Pair of Glass Slippers

2011-08-25T20:12:00.000-05:00

Flip flops. I spend almost the entire summer in flip flops. Unfortunately, I have this weird "that's not work wear" aversion to flip flops during the school year.

And yet, the first morning of school, I realized that I had to throw my favorite flats away because...well, they had a full life, ladies and gentlemen. A full, smelly life.

That left me with a few pairs of semi-dressy sandals and flip flops. Crap.

I made it work for the first week, but on our way home from our weekend trip, I made Favorite stop at a shoe outlet so I could rectify my issue. Thankfully, I found two really cute pairs of work appropriate shoes. I fawned over heels and remembered the days I could tromp my happy rear end in them all day long and realized that those days may be behind me...mostly because of what IS behind me. But that's a topic for another day.

Unfortunately, I'm currently unable to wear my new shoes. Why, you ask? Well, I wore one pair on the first day and my heels currently look like they survived the gulf war. They aren't tough. You know, because flip flops don't have backs.

But today, as I was looking at one of my well dressed coworkers, I realized that my wardrobe could use a little pick-me-up--not just my shoes. (Not that all my clothes are bad. I received a compliment regarding a dress from the best-dressed sub in the building. Seriously. I would totally stalk her and her closet. She looks flawless every. single. day. High school be damned.)

I have a problem buying clothes, though.

1. I'm fat. There. I said it. And it's totally the truth. I'm rocking the no white flour/white sugar diet, and I'm really choosing to eat better foods, so be proud of me. But let's not pretend my 9 millions pounds of less-than-awesome are coming off tomorrow. It's going to be s-l-o-w going.

2. My body shape is weird. I know hundreds of women probably feel this way, and I for one feel for them. I am short-waisted, large chested and have hips that would make Renaissance artists slobber. I'm not tall, but my thighs take up a lot of material and make pants appear shorter than they probably should.

Oh, and belts? I'm not drawing attention to my doesn't-exist-even-if-you-cinch-it middle.

I wear a lot of loose fitting shirts and cardigans. I LOVE cardigans. They hide my arms and keep my back fat from being completely obvious. I mean, I would love them anyway. I think they look classic and clean. But on me? They are flesh colored concealer.

So the update shall commence. And I shall post pictures. And I shall accessorize like an adult. (Because what's the fun of being one if you can't buy all the stuff you couldn't afford when you were 17?)

Or I'll pray for a fairy Stacy-and-Clinton.

This Semester...

2011-08-24T18:30:00.000-05:00

This semester I will...

* Become more organized that I have been.
* Focus on grading at work so I bring less home.
* Work on understanding behavior instead of just disciplining it.
* Just sigh when members of the community/well meaning parents point fingers instead of participating in intelligent discussion.
* Pick my battles.
* Talk about people less.
* Praise others more.
* Be an encouragement to the people I love.
* Shut my mouth when I have nothing of benefit to say.
* Realize my opinion isn't the only one in the room.
* Grit my teeth and swallow my pride/feelings.
* Accessorize better.
* Eat better.
* Do what I can do and then let it go.

The First Day of School: Graduate Edition

2011-08-23T21:00:00.000-05:00

The movie, Inception, clearly explains that you can know you're in the middle of a dream when you realize you don't know how you got where you are. Imagine my surprise to wake up in the middle of a nightmare only to discover that I not only knew how I got there, but I could detail every step that brought me to this particular moment in time.

I looked around the room trying to determine how I could avoid talking in a group of 12 people who have all committed themselves to the study of Holocaust literature for the next three months. Then, my professor asked all of us to introduce ourselves, our areas of study and our interest in this course.

The six people before me were all doctoral students studying something that sounded suspiciously like "long drawn out elaborate explanation of literature that clearly means I haven't been out in the general public for the last five years and that includes dating" but took approximately 10 minutes apiece to explain.

Then there was me.

*Cue hillbilly dumbass voice* "Duher. Ima just startin' my mas-terz dee-gree here. Me teaches high schoolers. Teeheehee. I don't know nothing bout this here Holocaust mumbo jumbo, but I's sure gonna try ter read these here books and do me a bit of learnin'. Ya'll sure are givin' a lot to chaw on."

Yes. It was that bad.

Add to it the fact that I am one of TWO (count 'em...TWO) master's degree students in this course. Every single other person is in a doctoral program. And I'm the only student who hasn't spent consecutive years working on a graduate degree.

Normally, a 25 page research paper wouldn't make me hyperventilate. But it's been more than 4 years since I've written one. Plus, I understood those topics. I currently don't even know what to make of the requirements for this particular research paper, and since everyone else nodded their heads in recognition? I'm officially the only podunk idiot in the room. I'm praying to the Lord Jesus that the next class will offer some clarification.

The professor assured us that we all have something to learn from each other. He assured us anything we can share during oral presentations would be valuable. (He also graciously gave me an oral presentation I think I may actually do well. Kind man. Generous man. Man who must realize I haven't been in school for a while. Thank God for Elie Wiesel.) But I currently sincerely doubt my ability to share anything with these people aside from a severely stunted intellect that may have only existed in my dreams anyway.

But since I used a tuition waiver to take this class, I shouldn't back out.

Oh, and I'm not a quitter.

Prayer Monday 8/22

2011-08-22T07:35:00.000-05:00

The students could write about three separate topics:

The hardest thing I've ever done...

When I was a discipline problem...

If you really knew me...

She wrote about the hardest thing she's ever done: remove pride from her life. Her father explained that this would be one of the most difficult lessons she would ever learn, but if she would learn it young, her relationship with God would have proper perspective. After all, God opposes the proud, but He gives grace to the humble.

I sat at my desk and read her paper with awe. She's half my age, but I'm pretty sure she's exactly what I want to be when I grow up.

That pride lesson is one that God won't seem to overlook in my life. I've been reminded that I'm not my own. I've been reminded that He opposes the proud. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I've dealt with a crazy nagging that pushes me to believe that I deserve what other people have. I grapple with the concept of taking turns like we're all still on the playground waiting to slide.

But in the funniest of places, God pushes on my consciousness and reminds me to lean not on my own understanding. He reminds me that there is no condemnation for those of us who are in Christ and that He has a plan, not for harm, but for a prosperous future.

There is a sense of peace in a tender Savior who finally places one hand over ours and says, "OK. Now trust Me." We finally hit a release valve and know, that even when things aren't different, things are going to be different.

Pray for that sense of peace for my husband and I as we make decisions for the future.

(And praise to God for His provision for my Big Brother and STBSIL!)

Link Up.

A New Normal: Life Goes On

2011-08-17T19:30:00.000-05:00

It's difficult to adjust to a new normal. Back to school definitely means several changes, but those changes are nothing in comparison to something a coworker of mine is facing.

Her son, a young man, was recently diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder that is/has destroyed his kidneys. He's currently going through dialysis and learning what it will be like to live with a disease that cannot be cured. My heart breaks for them, but I find a significant amount of inspiration in her "can do" attitude.

In other news, I'm officially getting back into lesson planning mode. It's not pretty, ya'll. I took a complete break over the summer. As in, I did nothing.

Honestly, though, I think I needed to do nothing. I needed some time without obligations. Time to really rest. Time to heal. And it was good.

But now? I realize that I'd like to incorporate a lot of new things in my classroom, and I haven't really looked at how to make that possible. Mostly, I'm not super pleased with everything I do in my English II class. We don't just read stories and fill out worksheets, but I feel like there are too many days of mundane tasks like that. I'd like to get a little more interactive and make the students more responsible for their learning. I'll let you know how that goes. (*Note that I've been running around so panicked at work that I forgot my property taxes were due. And to return a call to a woman at my bank. And to get gas. Do you see a sad, sad pattern here? *SIGH*)

This weekend, I'll be heading up north with Favorite to visit an old friend of mine. I haven't seen her since she got married three years ago, and I'm excited. I'll post some pictures of our visit when I get back.

Oh, and grad school starts Tuesday. My prof emailed earlier this week, and I'm pretty much already panicking over one of the requirements. Here's to praying for a sense of organization!

(Oh, and feel free to pray for my friend, Morgan, to go into labor. She's way pregnant and I think ready to meet her son.)

Don't Give Up On Me

2011-08-15T20:42:00.000-05:00

Today was the first day back to school. I promise I'm not giving up on Prayer Monday or regular posting. I'm just working on getting into a schedule and I promised Favorite I would be a little more careful about my internet time while he's still on vacation.

Please pray for my brother, though. He has a job interview tomorrow, and it's a game changer for he and my STBSIL.

Back soon. Don't give up on me.

The Jitters

2011-08-12T15:52:00.000-05:00

The jitters are something that are generally reserved for the hour before the wedding and people who have consumed too much java. I have the jitters because things in my life are getting ready to change drastically.

That might be a slight overreaction.

To start, I just signed up for my first grad school class ever. Logically, this shouldn't scare me. It's just one class. It's only one day a week. The topic is Holocaust Literature which is something I really enjoy and should benefit my classroom. But it does scare me. I'm coming off of a year spent looking behind my shoulder at what could have been instead of what is, so declaring myself ready to move on is a little like fast forwarding through what could be an organizational nightmare.

The bright side? I like school. I like literature. And I like the professor. Part of me wants to sit up and say, "I'm baaaaaacccccckkkkk." but we'll see if my organizational skills are willing to make a comeback on such short notice.

Secondly, Big Bro is leaving for a job interview in Ohio next week. If you're completely rational, you're saying, "It's JUST an interview, Crys. No guarantees." But you would be saying that because you don't know Big Bro, and you also don't know the sense of peace I get about this job for him. It's a good position. These people would be so over the top blessed to have him. (Plus, they're getting a deal. Anyone else with his intelligence would be far too expensive to consider for an entry level position. They're just lucky his degrees don't match his brain function.)

I'm tight with my brothers. One has already moved. And since Bro bro and Sheena are getting married, she'll be going with him.

*Cue hysteric tears* They are my best friends. I don't make friends easily. I'm off-putting and rude. I am a curmudgeon and an isolationist. But they love me anyway.

I know we'll visit. I also know this is a good thing. I'm just trying to iron out all of the what-might-have-been kinks before I make myself nuts.

So I'm jittery. But I have high expectations for fantastic things.

Yep. Quote me on it. This is going to be a fresh-pound-cake-with-fresh-strawberries-and-whipped-cream-but-completely-calorie-free year.

More on food later.

Oh Vacation 2011

2011-08-11T16:49:00.002-05:00

I'm not on drugs. I just blinked when I snapped the picture.

Vacation was great, but this was the only picture I got of us together. Most of the time, I was behind the camera; however, I didn't pick it up nearly as much as I probably should have.

Our first day at the beach. See my pretty feet?

In addition, I'm not much with a camera. I can tell a story, but illustrations are always going to be a problem. Anyway...

We spent the first day on the beach. It was awesome. I love the water, and I love the sun. Panama City has an overabundance of both. For the sake of a cheaper hotel rate, we stayed in an adjoining city, but our drive over was simple. Five minutes and we could sit on the beach as long as we wanted.

Favorite and I walked along the beach, jumped in the waves and spent an awesome day relaxing. Water may not be for everyone, but I feel completely at home next to the ocean.

That evening, Favorite and I decided to go to a local place and eat fresh seafood. The highest ratings went to a place called The Captain's Table, a small locally owned restaurant near the pier.

I should've put something next to it to show scale. This plate was HUGE and FULL.

The wait staff was great and the portion sizes were ridiculous. More than likely, two people could've eaten the portion I was given alone.

But it was DELICIOUS. Since crab isn't caught locally, we didn't eat any that night. What we had made up for it, though. You can see in any picture I post on my blog that I have obviously never turned down a meal, but when this was over, my plate was still full.

The clean plate club is overrated.

The next day, Favorite wanted to go to a place called Shell Island.

The water was gorgeous. Completely blue and warm. I could see straight to the bottom.

Getting to Shell Island is a bit of an ordeal. First, you have to load a school bus with all sorts of people you don't know, cram yourself into a seat you haven't fit since eighth grade and ride for a few minutes. Then, you unload the bus, grab all of your gear and load up on a pontoon ferry to get to the island.

We had a little extra gear, because Favorite really wanted to snorkle. So, of course, we rented snorkling stuff.

Previously, I had stated that I would not be snorkling. The whole concept scares the beejeezus out of me. I know that sounds weird, but my mind is a steel trap full of worst case scenarios. I imagined that we would view things underwater, come face to face with a shark and then die. Reasonable? No. Totally in my head? Yep.

But I agreed to snorkle because I'm a good sport. At least I am on vacation. And it was seriously cool. We spent a lot of time around the rocks in the picture above and I saw tons of cool fish and crabs, etc.

(OH..and come to find out, a man actually was killed by a bull shark while snorkling on Shell Island. That happened in the eighties. Thank God I didn't find out until the next day.)

It was a beautiful day...with one exception. Shell Island has NO shade. We brought an umbrella, but it was a poor substitute for actual shade. Since my skin is the color of paper, constant reapplication of sunscreen and sitting under the umbrella didn't really help me much. I was R.E.D. by the time we left. So that meant the next day was going to require a lot of time OUT of the sun. Even though I love it doesn't mean it loves me back.

The entrance to the swimsuit shop. Clever, aren't they?

We spent our evenings shopping for a new swimsuit (TORTURE!) for me, and visiting a little putt-putt play area. That's where Favorite decided to try his hand at the batting cages.

There he is: Mr. MLB.

Since his manhood was at stake, he went into the fast pitch cage and proceeded to whiff the first few pitches. (As his loving wife, I feel it's my duty to share these successes with you.) After that, he hit his stride and got a few pretty impressive hits.

Arm wrestling requires intense concentration...and facial expressions.

The quest for manhood continued in the arcade area where he arm wrestled a machine, and felt it his manly duty to get the highest score possible. Aren't I a lucky girl?

Then my oceanic cowboy decided to wrestle a wild dolphin and take a ride.

Ok. That's a lie. It's a kiddie ride. But that doesn't really fit into all the other terrific manly feats he managed that evening. (Fun fact: Favorite didn't want to swim with the dolphins because dolphins "freak him out." Who knew?)

The next day we went parasailing. It was amazing, but I don't have any pictures for you, because I might be brave enough to go a few hundred feet in the air, but I am not brave enough to take my brand new digital camera on a banana boat in the ocean.

Once I was in the air, the world got really peaceful. Things went much more slowly up there, and I could see the entire city. Plus, the ocean was really clear out there so I could look down and see tons of stuff. Favorite wasn't super excited about trying it out (he's not a fan of heights), but he agreed that it was an awesome experience.

We were in the boat with a family of five--a fifteen year old among them. She was annoying and kept asking the guys running the boat if she could get out and swim. One of the guys said he didn't even swim in this water and then proceeded to tell us about a 15 ft. shark that was spotted under the pier next to us in March.

Favorite and I thought he was blowing smoke, but turns out, it's a true story. Google "shark under panama city pier" and see for yourself. The good news is the shark was a harmless basking shark. But if I were the guy in the kayak, it wouldn't have mattered if a fish that big was harmless or not.

After parasailing we spent some time at Ripley's Believe It or Not (you know, because it's indoors). I won't bore you with those pictures with the exception of one:

Doesn't he look like a circus performer?

He's laying on a bed of nails. It took me forever to convince him to do it, and he said it wasn't really comfortable. But, manhood regained after the sad dolphin incident.

We got up the next day and drove a ridiculous amount of hours to get to Atlanta to go to the aquarium. I didn't take pictures there because of the glass, but I do have two things to share with you that completely wrap up my personality:

Tell me that doesn't make you smile.

We had a great time, but I'm glad to be home. I missed my dog. And my bed. But driving was awesome because we got through more than half of Game of Thrones. So far? Mesmerizing.

And now that I've updated you about vacation, I'll hopefully be able to get back to some sort of regular blogging schedule. And I'll try to give you more pictures.

Show Us Your Life: Blogging Tips and Vaca Update

2011-08-05T16:32:00.000-05:00

Hey Kelly's Korner :)

I am clearly a professional blogger--what with the last two weeks and a total of three posts. Ack. What has happened to me?

Truthfully, though, I think blogging comes down to one thing: honesty. We all want to know that what we're reading is real, because those are the connections we want to make with other people.

Honesty doesn't mean you lay absolutely everything out there for the entire world to read. I have a husband who is a fairly private person, and there are certainly subjects I am unwilling to broach with the public at large.

But when I am ready, I do share my heart. My phrasing isn't always smooth, and my delivery isn't always funny, but I do aim to write the way I talk to people in my real life. Hopefully, some of that comes across here.

Like, for instance, the fun time we had when we finally made it to Florida yesterday. Favorite (my husband) and I aren't willing to drop a small fortune on hotel rooms; however, we aren't willing to drink brown water, forgo showers and pick bugs out of our beds either. That means we ALWAYS check the recommendations of other customers and proceed accordingly.

For this trip, we chose to stay in a simple Howard Johnson--clean, simple and fairly inexpensive for the five days we'll be here. It's certainly not the resort we stayed at in Orlando (holy beejeezus. I'll have to tell you about that place later...but suffice it to say most of the women stared at me when I walked through in all of my Old-Navy-and-flip-flop-glory), but it's comfortable--and we don't spend much time here anyway.

BUT...when we got here, the room key wouldn't work. So Favorite went back down to the desk. She fixed it. Except she didn't. Then she came up herself. Still nothing.

So we've just driven in excess of 10 hours and we now cannot get into our hotel room.

Frustrated might be an understatement.

The lady asked us if we could grab a bite to eat and by the time we came back, her manager would have everything under control. Except that didn't happen.

They had to scan us in on a security card and then fix it in the morning.

We laugh about it now...but last night? It no so funny.

Stay tuned for updates from the road. Favorite shaved his head in an attempt to out wit his hair follicles since they've refused to work. There will definitely be pictures to follow.

(PS. If you ever have to drive for a long distance in the car, I highly recommend a book on tape. Favorite and I bought Game of Thrones and I'm completely mesmerized. Made the trip so much easier. I didn't have to try to give him a bruise to entertain myself.)

(PPS. Yes, I did actually do that once. Don't judge me.)

Go Go Bento

2011-08-02T16:00:00.000-05:00

I am not a paid spokesperson, but I should be. I would blabber on and on about anything I think is fantastic, and I wouldn't even care if people were listening or not. Isn't that what makes a great salesperson? I never liked sales, though, because I never wanted to pressure people into making a purchase. I just like to talk about the things I love...or the things that excite me.

Keep in mind, I'm almost always excited about something that will make eating well easier and all organization products. It's an illness. But imagine my over-the-top-pee-my-pants joy when I found this:

It's a Bento.

Apparently, bento is word in Japanese that means convenient (my research indicates that it translates similarly in Mandarin). The boxes are meant to hold specific portions of carbohydrate, meat and vegetable/fruit (and in some cases, oil or sweets).

Bentos can be simple or elaborate--in fact, some people go to the effort to create kyaraben (character bento)--food art. But I think some of the more simple renderings create eye pleasing palates, too.

I find Bento boxes fascinating because they encourage those packing the lunch to experiment with loads of color combinations and fresh food. Realistically, how many of us couldn't use a little more color in our unprocessed food choices?

Plus, I've read quite a bit about sticking to specific servings of certain types of foods for people with PCOS. I'm hoping that an organizational tool like this is going to make that convenient.

And since I'm making it my goal to eat fewer processed foods, I'm hoping a tool like this will make it easier to bring good, wholesome food from home instead of stocking my classroom fridge with SmartOnes or Lean Cuisine.

I learned about Bento while reading through The School Lunch Project--and, yes, this is another shameless promotion for something I LOVE. Mrs. Q isn't just passionate about school lunch; she's passionate about nutrition. Her simple posts about lunch content and ingredients really reminded me that we have an obligation to know what we're putting in our bodies.

Mrs. Q and people like my friend Casey also remind me that simple ingredients make for the best tasting food.

While I was thinking through those concepts, I was reminded of something else. Weight Watchers actually used to have two types of dieting programs. Either you could count points and stay within a specific point allowance or you could eat unlimited amounts of certain types of foods (mostly fresh veggies and fruits) and supplement with limited amounts of protein and dairy and avoid really counting.

Obviously, I'm not as familiar with the second program because I spent most of my time counting points so I could eat things like cereal, doritos and cookies.

Clearly, all those years of dieting changed me.

I know my body would benefit from more fresh food in a large assortment of colors. In the past few weeks, it's become clear to me that I likely suffer from any number of vitamin deficiencies due to my poor diet.

So when I go back to school in two weeks, I'm going to make an honest effort to ensure my lunches are colorful, eye pleasing portions of mostly unprocessed foods (hey...baby steps).

And while bentos are traditionally 3 parts rice, 2 parts protein and 1 part veggie, I'm going to make an honest effort to flip flop the rice and veggies.

I'll let you know how it turns out. Who knows? I may even give you a couple pictures of my lunch as this project progresses. For now, I'm excited about the tools to push me to try.

(All pictures on this post were taken from www.laptoplunches.com)