30 days of...something.

So a dear dear friend of mine whom I refer to as "soulmate" has a wonderful blog where she shares her musings and other quirky thoughts on life. You can read her musings here. She has started a 30 day list where she posts something new everyday. Day #1 "your ideal date." Day #2, a picture of something you ate today... and so on and so forth. So... I need to get caught up. Here are days 1 and 2.

Day #1- My ideal date.

Um. Honestly, I don't have any kind of idea for an "ideal date." As long as there's coffee involved somewhere and a nice man who loves Jesus, I don't care. I'm content grabbing Sonic burgers and going to see a terrible movie at the dollar theater. Or walking around the mall people watching. I'm typically adventurous or really down home laid back. A lot of girls say they're low maintenance but aren't. I truly am. As long as the guy is nice and loves Jesus and treats me well, I'm a happy girl. :)

Alright.. on to day 2. A picture of something I ate today. I have been so sick lately so most of my meals consist of chicken broth or bread. Not very exciting. BUT, here is a picture of one of my favorite things at Christmas time. Even when I'm sick. My throat has been so sore so this has been even MORE enjoyable.

This is Dreyer's Peppermint Ice Cream. Only comes around at Christmas time. I'm not a big sweet eater. I also try to eat as healthy as I can. However, this ice cream is the exception to the rule. I could eat an entire bath tub filled with this stuff. Ok, maybe that was a bit hyperbolic. But you catch my drift. This stuff is amazing. A gift straight from Santa. It's even better if you put it on a warm brownie and drizzle a bit of chocolate syrup over it. But be warned: your pancreas will cry. Well, weeping internal organs or not, this ice cream is delicious.

Merry Christmas, readers!! :)

Blue Speckled Bowls

I don't really have anything super spiritually insightful to say tonight. But something's been on my mind. I've heard that certain scents are directly tied memory or vice versa. I certainly believe that. Just a few examples of this: I relate the smell of sawdust to my dad. I'm not even sure he knows that. But, as far back as I can remember, my dad has always been handy. He does small projects around the house... or big projects like this one. I can remember him outside with his sawhorses and whatever pneumatic tool he's using, building something, fixing something, or helping build a trebuchet for a middle school history project (story for a different post.) If I close my eyes and I smell sawdust, I think of my dad. The smell of coffee reminds me of my mom. Not just because she drinks lots of it... but because it's something that we share. We both have an almost unhealthy love of coffee. My mom doesn't SMELL like coffee, mind you... but the scent reminds me of her. The smell of bacon or sausage grease will ALWAYS remind me of my dad's Grandma, Big Granny; or my mom's mom, Memaw. The smell of cigarette smoke reminds me of my dad's parents. Not in a bad way. It's almost in a comforting way. My dad's parents smoked for a long long time. It's not a bad memory that is tied to that scent. It reminds me of playing in the game room or watching Fat Albert at Papa and Mary's house. Or eating those terrible pink Hostess snowballs and watching CMT at Granny's house.

I never payed much attention to the fact that certain objects would trigger really strong memories. I mean, it makes perfect sense.... but I had never really thought of it.

Anyway, I was doing dishes tonight and I came across these bowls we have. They're metal and have blue paint with white speckles on them. These bowls... are magic. Ok they're not really; but they came from Memaw and Granddaddy's house. These bowls were used for three things and three things only: Cereal in the morning, Bread Pudding or Stone Soup. Don't even get me started on memories with stone soup. No- really. I'll post about it at some point. It's still hard for me to eat anything but those three things out of these bowls. These bowls remind me of sitting in Granddaddy's lap while he reads me "Green Eggs and Ham." or playing on the swing set or in the pasture. These bowls remind me of that small farm house on lots of land. They remind me of squeezing an impossible amount of people into that house and feeding all of them. Of Sleeping in the back bedroom and leaving the light in the closet on because there was something always weird about it being pitch black. (I've grown up in L.A. I'm used to street lights and building signs).) Of laying my head on the pillow in that back bedroom and falling asleep with that sort of musty indescribable smell...and feeling at home and...safe. These bowls remind me of love.

I think for mom, her object-memory would be the "bread pudding pan." This pan is just a beat up aluminum pan with handles... but it's the ONLY pan in which to make bread pudding. Mom will have to tell you about the memories attached to this pan... so for now, I'll just show you a picture of this pan.

Cleaning, for me, is therapeutic. I LOVE cleaning. I usually clean late at night because it's when my mind is clear and I can almost meditate while cleaning. My friend Kylie meditates while she makes friendship bracelets for people. I find my meditation and God-time while I clean. I think the reason all these memories came flooding back to me tonight is because I'm kind of in the middle of the six year anniversary of the death of three of my grandparents. My senior year of high school, 3 of my grandparents died within about 60 days of each other. Granny, my dad's mom, died on September 6th, 2004 of lung cancer that spread to her brain. Papa, my dad's dad, died on October 9th, 2004 of the same thing. Granddaddy, my mom's dad, died October 30th, 2004, kind of suddenly of a heart attack. This time was undoubtedly one of the tougher moments for our family. Even as I think about, and type it now, my stomach hurts to think about it. But it was also kind of a turning point for us as well. Our family grew closer together in that time and really kind of united.

But I also remember the happy moments in that time. I got to see every member of my family, extended family and then some. I think, my favorite part was Granddaddy's funeral. I know that sounds morbid... but stay with me. My Granddaddy was SUCH a character. He was loud and boisterous... but he told corny jokes and drew ridiculous cartoons and loved his 12 grandbabies with all he had. His funeral was a celebration of his life. People shared funny stories about him and even shared some J.B.isms. (his name was James Barton i.e. JB) It made me love my Granddaddy even more. We laughed. We LAUGHED at his funeral!! When I leave this earth, I want my funeral to be like his. I want people to remember the ridiculous things I did and how I helped people. I don't want my funeral to be sad and dull because that's not how we do things in this family!

Friends, it's very late. But if it weren't, then it wouldn't fit in with the title of my Blog, now would it? I will leave you with a few of my favorite JBisms.

"She's a blue chip baby with navy bean toes!" - He said that about me. Blue chip baby=like blue chip stock. :) navy bean toes=umm I guess my toes looked like navy beans.

Angel- I could never tell if he really thought I was...or if he couldn't remember my name. ;)

"Don't run the heater in the motor home while you sleep or you might wake up dead!!"- umm... I'll let you figure that one out.

"We didn't come here for diabetes!" (pronounced dyeuh-beetus)- they took my grandma to the doctor for a blood clot and the blood tests also revealed she had diabetes. He wasn't happy about that and told them that's not what they went there for!

"You ain't a string tied horse-hobble ain't too fat to wobble, are ya?!" - I STILL have no idea what this means.

goodnight, friends. May you find those objects in your life that make you remember the special people in your life.

I Want Yellow Walls...

The longer I am still,the longer I wait and the more invested I am in my relationship with God, the more He shows me the kind of man He has in mind for me to marry.

I became incredibly aware of this yesterday. Mom and I had gone to Texas for a week to visit my grandmother who is in poor health. The week was full of unexpected frustrations and challenges but all in all, it was a good week.I'll elaborate on the details later in this post. But what I'll tell you now is that the trip back felt like it took a million hours. We were tired and sore and stinky... but when we got home,we found that mom and dad's bedroom had been remodeled. [quick little aside, we've been doing a lot of remodeling on the house... but mom and dad's bedroom was the only bedroom that hadn't been done.]

What does this have to do with yellow walls and husbands?


I'll tell ya. Mom and I left on 8/31 for an incredibly long trip. Apparently, it was that day that Dad and Molly started scheming. They had started scheming to remodel mom and dad's bedroom while mom and I were away. Just 2 days into our trip, mom and I were rear ended in Abilene (a small west Texas town). There was a lot of damage to our car. Luckily, the girl admitted full fault (because it was), and the insurance company took care of everything. But, it was still a long, emotional and stressful day. We still had several hours of driving (in a rent car) and seeing my grandma ahead of us.

We got the rent car, put gas in it, got lunch and got on the road. While Dad and Molly were pulling up carpet, taking up staples, hammering down nails.

We got to Belton, TX (about an hour outside Austin)and went straight to the nursing home to see Memaw (grandma). We saw Memaw then set out for my aunt and uncle's farm; which was about 15 minutes outside of town. While Molly and Dad were scraping up glue and taking down ceiling fans.

On Friday, we were even more tired and sore and emotional. We spent the day with my grandma and talked to the insurance company. While Molly and Dad were scraping ceilings and washing down walls.

On Saturday, we hung out with my grandma, ran some errands, and had lunch with 2 of my mom's siblings and one of my mom's childhood friends. While Molly and Dad were picking out paint colors and putting down hard wood floors. I whined about how tired I was or how I had to deal with the insurance company. While Molly and dad were not only working at their jobs... but painting the walls and moving around furniture.

Speaking of paint colors, mom and I had gone to Home Depot and gotten some samples of paint colors that we liked and painted a few colors on the wall. We hadn't settled on a color but mom really liked this pale yellow color and a greyish brown color. Dad had originally objected to the yellow so mom and I had figured we would go with the brown...eventually. We've been doing renovations on the house for some time now so we weren't planning on doing their room for a while. (or so we thought)

The whole week mom kept telling me "I miss dad." or "I'm just anxious to see ." Babbo(Babbo is the Italian word for "daddy". Molly and I call him Babbo. Now mom does too :) )

I just kept thinking. "man, I want a love like that." A love where you feel lost if you're not with your partner. I know I'll have it. I just gotta wait. Which I'm TOTALLY fine doing. :)

Anywho, we get home and we go upstairs to find the beautiful bedroom. Mom almost cried. Dad and Molly had worked for 8 days to redo this bedroom for mom. A while after we got home, Molly told me that dad had said to her "let's paint the walls that pale yellow color that Nellie likes." Molly said "you don't like that color." he said "it's not that important to me. Nellie likes it. I want her to have it."

They ultimately went with the brown color but that's not the important part. The important part is that Babbo put Nellie's wants ahead of his own. It may not seem like a big deal, but it is. In Ephesians 5, Paul tells husbands to love their wives as Christ loves the Church. It's a pure love, a holy love, a sacrificial love and a wholly unselfish kind of love.

My dad has that kind of love for my mom. He shows this daily. Not just in his redoing the bedroom or wanting to give her the paint color she wanted. But in calling or texting throughout the day, in his constant support of her, or going to work and working so hard for our family....everyday.

Dad is going to be totally embarrassed by this blog but that's ok.

Folks, I know he's out there. I'm not going to LOOK for a man that I think God wants for me. I'm going to hold out for my yellow wall kind of love. :)

This may not have been a super insightful kind of post... but it's been on my heart and I wanted to share about this very special kind of love I've seen. :)

It's the Small Things That Make The Difference...

And no, I'm not talking about my height... ;)

I'm actually talking about my attitude. I moved home 2 months ago (on the 26th). I didn't exactly WANT to move home. Not because my family isn't amazing. (because they are) but because I just really really loved Utah.

Anyway, I've had a serious case of the grumps since I've been home. I've been irritable and angry and unsettled. If you know me, you know that I'm not typically a chronically crabby person. I'm usually a silver lining kind of gal. A cockeyed optimist, if you will. :) I dreaded Sunday morning worship at my home church. Not for any personal reason other than it wasn't Southside. It wasn't MY church in Utah. (really, Sarah, YOUR church? way to be possessive.) Today was the first day I haven't cried since I've been home.

I've been sad and grumpy about legitimate things. I've had all these transitions all at once. Being back home, not having a job, not having a car, going back to my home congregation. Some of my friendships have changed. Some have gotten stronger. Some have kind of fallen apart. Either way, I was a bundle of nerves and negativity. I was starting to annoy myself! (which means I'd probably been annoying others for quite some time)

I kept hearing "Make your own attitude that of Christ Jesus." I kinda hoped it would go away because I had already ordered the balloons and punch for my next pity party. (I was going to order a clown... but that seemed a little too ironic.) But there it was again "make your own attitude that of Christ Jesus." SERIOUSLY?! But I don't wanna. I would rather sit here and feel sorry for myself. Wahh wahh wahh. Finally, this past Sunday, I made the conscious effort to not say anything negative for the whole day. Seriously. The. Whole. Day.

I am happy to report that I succeeded. At first, I thought negative things in my head and didn't say them out loud. Then promptly decided that kind of defeated the purpose. So I changed my thinking too. I didn't think or say anything negative all day. Badda Bing Badda Boom! No more grumps! Seriously amazing! I'm TOTALLY not patting myself on the back for this one. It's a God thing. I kept praying for Him to help me change my attitude. I just hadn't been making any effort at all to adjust my own attitude. Just by making the small change in my attitude and the conscious effort to make my attitude that of Christ Jesus (thanks Paul and Timothy, it changed my whole perspective on things! I cancelled the balloons and punch for my pity party. I realize that it's ok to be sad and hurt; but it doesn't do anyone any good if I'm spewing negativity all over the place. I feel so much better! I'm happy and giddy and silly again! I feel lighter. I'm starting to feel like myself again, and less of a zombie. I am so thankful for God's patience and grace.

So, dear friends, my exhortation to you is to try and go a whole day without saying anything negative. You'd be surprised at how your day gets so much better and things don't bother you!

Here's some motivation.
Philippians 2:5-8
"5 Make your own attitude that of Christ Jesus,
6 who, existing in the form of God, did not consider equality with God

as something to be used for His own advantage.

7 Instead He emptied Himself by assuming the form of a slave,

taking on the likeness of men.

And when He had come as a man in His external form,

8 He humbled Himself by becoming obedient

to the point of death—even to death on a cross."

"Oh what I would do to have the kind of faith it takes to climb out of this boat I'm in"

Here's another old one :)

I teach preschool...at church. I have for a while now, and I love it. Mind you, they still drive me crazy from time to time, but for the most part, it's a joy. To watch a child's faith form, is an incredible thing. That wide-eyed innocence is amazing. I co-teach with my mom. And we do VBS (vacation Bible school) all year round now.

Usually, we spend two weeks on one lesson. So last week's and yesterday's lesson was about Jesus walking on the water.

Just a quick re-cap. The apostles were in the boat, and Jesus went up a mountain to pray. There was a storm, and the boat was being tossed around. So, Jesus, being the Savior that he is, started walking on the water towards the boat.

Let me just pause for a second and say... WOW... I think, because I was raised in a Christian household, and I've heard it all my life, that I take that kind of stuff for granted.

WHO ELSE could walk on water but my Jesus?... no one...that's who.

Ok..back to the story... So the apostles (being the silly humans they were) got freaked out because people really can't walk on water...And Jesus told them "Don't be afraid...It is I"... So Peter (who proves time and time again to be lacking some common sense) says "Alright, if you're really Jesus, then let me walk out to you"... So Jesus says "ok...come on"Peter starts walking on water towards Jesus....and instead of fixing his eyes on Jesus, he looked down at the waves and the wind, and got scared! Then he started to sink (serves him right!)

And of course Peter yells "Jesus! Save me!"And Jesus extended his arm and pulled Peter up...then says "Why didn't you trust me?"

Why didn't Peter trust Jesus?...

And then it hit me... I'm Peter... I've been trying to raise support for AIM and I've completely left God out of it. Why haven't I trusted Jesus?

I've sent support letters, I've made calls, I done presentations...but what haven't I done?

PRAYED!

I'm Peter... I'm sinking and I'm yelling for Jesus to pull me up out of this water I'm in. I'm splashing around making a big scene...but all I have to do is have faith.

I'm tired of being Peter. I'm trusting Jesus. He knows what He's doing. God has called me to missions... and He's trying to teach me something. But I won't shut up long enough to hear Him. I'm sorry, Jesus for hurting you and losing faith.

So from you, my faithful readers, I bequeath prayers. Pray for me to maintain faith and walk out on this water and NOT LOOK DOWN even when the waves are above my head.


As you well know...music is such a huge part of my life and while I wrote this blog, I was reminded of the Casting Crowns song "Voice of Truth"

Oh what I would do to have
The kind of faith it takes
To climb out of this boat I'm in
Onto the crashing waves
To step out of my comfort zone
Into the realm of the unknown where Jesus is
And He's holding out His hand
But the waves are calling out my name And they laugh at me
Reminding me of all the times I've tried before and failed
The waves they keep on telling me
Time and time again.
"Boy, you'll never win!""You'll never win!"

Chorus: But the voice of truth tells me a different story
The voice of truth says, "Do not be afraid!"
The voice of truth says, "This is for My glory"
Out of all the voices calling out to me
I will choose to listen and believe the voice of truth

switchin over

I'm going to get rid of my other blog so I'm slowly (but surely) transferring some of my posts over. Here's one from 2 years ago. :) This was written the day before I started AIM. It's called "Who me?, why me?, SEND ME!"

I used to struggle a lot with what God's plan was for my life. I remember being brokenhearted, tired, and jaded. I remember lying in my bed, crying, and having this dialogue with God

"God, I give up... I just... give up"

And God said "I know you want to, but you can't"

"BUT GOD!!!" *whiny voice* "Life is tooo hard and I don't know what You want from me... Just tell me what to do...tell me what you want me to do"

and God said "I want you to explore AIM. Step out of the box. You can do it"

"You tell funny jokes, God"

God said: "AIM. Do AIM"

"Um, no thanks...." So I ran. I ran away from God... How do you even do that?! But I did. I ran from church, I ran from my friends, my family, my church family... I just.........ran Obviously, my stubbornness didn't get me anywhere but more disappointment and unsatisfaction. Once again, there I was, crying in my bed, talking to God, bruised, beaten, and tired.
"GOD!!! HEY! Remember me? Look, I know I haven't talked to you in a while, and I'm sorry... but I need your help"

God: "I know, and I'm here. I've always been here"

"Oh, right, that whole omnipresent, omnicient thing...I'm ready to give my life to you"

God: "So... you're going to do AIM?"

Me: "yup. I'm going to do it"

And that's it.. that's the story... I went from being Who, Me? To Why me? And now, finally... SEND ME! I'm in Lubbock and I'm chillin in my hotel room. Anxiously counting down the hours until I can register, move in, and meet my roommates. I have no idea what's going to happen over the course of the next 2 years; all I know is that I'm excited and I'm firmly holding His hand and RUNNING.

Now, don't get me wrong, I know there will be times when I fall... but that's the great thing about MY Jesus...He carries you.

I still struggle with giving Him control... but I'm getting better. If you struggle with these same things, let me pray for you. I encourage you to lean on your family and friends, too.

Lord, thank you for my family, thank you for my friends, and thank you for my supporters. Thank you for sending your Son to die for us. As I enter this new exciting phase of my life, I ask you to help me stay humble, and focused. Please help me shine Your light wherever I go. Please help us to reach people who are broken, wounded, and searching for You. In Your Son's name I pray.


Amen

Tonight I Wanna Cry

Have you ever kept yourself from crying because you know you won't be able to stop and you don't want people to worry about you?

Tonight is that night. I've fought the tears for a while now. I've tried to be a stonewall about it. I've become numb. Sure I shed a few tears every now and then or my eyes well up but I can't ever really seem to squeeze out the tears. It's a weird defense mechanism that I'm not sure I've created on purpose.

But, tonight is the night that it all came out. Runny nose, unstoppable river of tears, inability to catch my breath, sobbing, wailing, screaming into my pillow cry. Tonight is it.

Why am I crying?

I'm crying because I miss Jennifer. I'm crying because I'm leaving Salt Lake. I'm crying because I don't know how to make adult decisions without turmoil. I'm crying because my friend just lost her husband of not even 2 years. I'm crying because she's hurting. I'm crying because he'll never get to hold his baby girls. I'm crying because I miss him too. I'm crying because I'm touched by the love she has for him. I'm crying because I want that kind of love. I'm crying because I miss my family. I'm crying because I don't want to leave Southside. I'm crying because I told my best friend I'm leaving and they don't care. I'm crying because it feels like someone took a machete to my heart because my best friend doesn't care. I'm crying over the wasted last year of my life.I'm crying because I can't seem to communicate why I'm crying. I'm crying because I'm crying! I'm in pain and I'm crying.

The tears will stop and I'll blow my nose. I'll pull myself up by my bootstraps and move on to the next phase just like I always do.

Except this time

you know my secret. You know that I've cried this kind of cry. Now my verbal vomit is all over this webpage and I'm left standing... stripped naked...

and crying