This is dedicated to the middle schoolers sitting across the aisle from me at Kaldi's apparently skipping an after school class. Specifically to the girl who was shamelessly playing match maker between her doppelganger friend and the boy they were with. To each of you I say: 1) I don't blame you for skipping this class AFTER SCHOOL! 2) Pump the brakes on the raging hormones 3) Get out of Kaldi's! This is my place as a 29 year old to read my book and laugh to myself in a corner. I don't want overly flirtatious giggles invading my internal monologue. I've earned the right after a long day at work to find a dark corner and sip coffee. Find a smoothie bar, you'll have plenty of time to pump yourself full of legal addictive stimulants. This is my time (said with as much passion as the guy from Goonies) 4) I hope, for your sake, you were joking about your mom texting you and telling you she knew you were skipping. However the look of panic on your face and the immediate bolting out of the shop says otherwise. 5) Best of wishes to the 3 of you. You really were quite precious!
It's not actually a big deal, except for the fact that it's awesome- I finished reading my 6th book in January! I nestled myself up in Kaldi's to finish one just so I could say I finished 6 books because I personally feel 6 sounds more impressive than 5. Like, wow, that girl read more than a book a week! I know, impressive right?!
I'll also have you know that I am easily influenced. Not in the hey do you wanna try this cocaine kind of way but the I'm around a Canadian for 2 seconds and I'm saying aye, and doen't cha knoew way. In that same respect the way an author writes, therefore the way I imagine them speaking, rubs off on me as well. I've just finished reading Mindy Kaling's, Kelly Kapoor from The Office, book Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns). She is absolutely hilarious and I have found myself imitating her a bit in my conversations- or at least my mental version of her, and in my writings. If anything seems witty, humorous, or random in this or writtings to soon follow know they were influenced by her. Then again I can sometimes be those things apart from her influence so... how about if you feel compelled to compliment my writing I'll receive them and sort through which ones she deserves the credit for. Deal?
My reading her book has come at an interesting time in my life. Some of you may have felt a little sorry for me getting through 6 books in one month because you feel it speaks volumes about my social life. You, my dear readers, have no reason to fear but may have room for concern. It's ironic but in the 2 days it took me to finish her book I ate lunch by myself and then coffee in a dark corner... by myself. Yes, everyone is hanging out without me. The very feeling I've had for the past ohhh... well it doesn't matter.
None the less, my stifled laughs in a dark corner got me to thinking. Maybe everyone's not hanging out without me, maybe I'm hanging out without everyone else. I felt like I was having the time of my life. A Mayan latte and a cinnamon roll paid for by a generous man (birthday gift card style) and a book that makes me laugh like I'm in a public library which always make me want to laugh even harder. Do you find this is the case? Maybe, you don't spend much time in libraries anymore with newfangled technology and all. I however have found myself retreating more into libraries with the more technology produced. None the less, when something tickles me while I'm in a library I want to laugh 10 times louder and more than any other time. It's because I can't that I want to. Oh how I love that kind of laughter. It will either force its way out throw tears, possibly louder more obnoxious coughs, or a situation that might have me running for the ladies. Laughter, it really is quite curring.
I've felt relatively distant from friendships recently, which I speak about in a post that is maybe a little too fresh and (unfortunately this word is all I could think of) raw to release out to public just yet. So it waits in a vault, waiting for wounds to heal and the hurt to be less hurtful and maybe more humorous. But until then it will suffice to say I've had a lot of alone time lately , which could lead a person like myself to be a little Debbie Downerish. Thanks to those friends that have found themselves getting an earful from asking how are you or how was your day and actually caring enough to stick around to hear the legitimate answer. One day if I ever write a book you and your kindness will be mentioned in it. Today, however, you will get thanked on this little blog of mine that averages 5 views a month. 2 of those views may or may not be from me or kind family members. A special shout out today to a friend I'll call Katechelson for giving me a deep love for bearded lumberjack men in great fitting jeans. I love that I get to see this on display frequently. The End.
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P.S.
It really bothers me that in spell checking this mug it asked me consider changing Goonies and didn't recognize texting as a word. I'm just saying, if "sexting" is a recognized word in the dictionary "texting" should definitely be on spell check!
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Thursday, January 5, 2012
one blank canvas
I was just rereading Acts 17:29-31. With this new crafting self of mine coming out over the past 2 years I was struck by the idea of shrinking God to some art form; gold, silver, stone- an image formed by the art and imagination of man.
I imagined a blank canvas and what color I would paint it were I trying to contain the essence of God in art. I originally decided splatter paint of all the colors of the rainbow because no color seems to quiet grasp His beauty. But then I thought of how paint couldn't be the only medium used because that doesn't seem to really convey the many facets of His character. In my minds eye I placed some buttons, feathers, lace, and sequence on the canvas (mainly because those are things right next to me at my craft table). My imagined image was already a far cry from how I would actually want to portray Him. So I started over, cause that's the joy of imaginations. Just a blank canvas. The more I thought about that blank canvas the more I thought it was great just the way it was. Until I realized that even it, was not enough. One blank canvas couldn't come close to even the very fringes of the greatness of God.
I kind of love that about Him. While other gods are in the carved images of their worshippers , toppled over by any minor disturbance and broken in the fumbling hands of a toddler, God, Yahweh, stands firm, unable to be attained in the feeble attempts of man's artwork.
He is unattainable and yet has chosen, for those who believe in Him, to abide in them; to forever dwell with them, to set them free, and to one day bring them into eternal rest with Him. To the God who made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth.
I imagined a blank canvas and what color I would paint it were I trying to contain the essence of God in art. I originally decided splatter paint of all the colors of the rainbow because no color seems to quiet grasp His beauty. But then I thought of how paint couldn't be the only medium used because that doesn't seem to really convey the many facets of His character. In my minds eye I placed some buttons, feathers, lace, and sequence on the canvas (mainly because those are things right next to me at my craft table). My imagined image was already a far cry from how I would actually want to portray Him. So I started over, cause that's the joy of imaginations. Just a blank canvas. The more I thought about that blank canvas the more I thought it was great just the way it was. Until I realized that even it, was not enough. One blank canvas couldn't come close to even the very fringes of the greatness of God.
I kind of love that about Him. While other gods are in the carved images of their worshippers , toppled over by any minor disturbance and broken in the fumbling hands of a toddler, God, Yahweh, stands firm, unable to be attained in the feeble attempts of man's artwork.
He is unattainable and yet has chosen, for those who believe in Him, to abide in them; to forever dwell with them, to set them free, and to one day bring them into eternal rest with Him. To the God who made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Isaiah 62:1-5
It had me thinking tonight, driving home, about His delight in me. His deep compassion set on me. And yet how I live as though He is the withholder of all things I long for. Tonight I'm moved by His earth shattering love for me and convicted by my flawed view of His character and intentions. He is giving me Himself, the King of the Universe, the one of whom all nations will one day bow- His delight is in me. I am His beloved.
And though I still feel the tension of how to long for those things that are not yet mine and how to surrender all to Him, tonight, in the quietness of my thoughts and this room, He is more than enough for this heart of mine.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Letting Go
You know that moment in The Holiday where Arthur hears the song Jack Black's character has made for him and he conquers the stairs before the crowd there in his honor? I feel as though I am having one of those moments. I'm listening to these guys, finishing some upcycled jewelry, and thinking- always thinking.
Today has been a myriad of emotions. Better said, this Christmas break has been filled with the sublimely unexpected and now all the questions that lurked in the background have come to the forefront of my mind and all of these emotions are flowing with them.
Unfortunately, few of these questions can be answered in a concrete way for me to understand, so I've wrestled all day with being grateful and feeling utterly hopeless. Agitated at not being able to verbalize all I want to say I've become restless and anxious. What cures these things? Fresh air and letting go. So that's what I did.
I cut the helium filled birthday balloons, walked outside with no coat and strings clinched in hands. I took a deep breath and I let go. My balloons rose high above the roof I felt my prayers were hitting and continued to soar into the dark sky. I eventually lost sight of them as they floated above the tree and pond and with that I felt a release. My balloons are gone, somewhere over yonder and like them my prayers have left my lips and now lie in the Father's heart. I have no string to continue to clinch to but I trust they will be heard and He will respond.
Today has been a myriad of emotions. Better said, this Christmas break has been filled with the sublimely unexpected and now all the questions that lurked in the background have come to the forefront of my mind and all of these emotions are flowing with them.
Unfortunately, few of these questions can be answered in a concrete way for me to understand, so I've wrestled all day with being grateful and feeling utterly hopeless. Agitated at not being able to verbalize all I want to say I've become restless and anxious. What cures these things? Fresh air and letting go. So that's what I did.
I cut the helium filled birthday balloons, walked outside with no coat and strings clinched in hands. I took a deep breath and I let go. My balloons rose high above the roof I felt my prayers were hitting and continued to soar into the dark sky. I eventually lost sight of them as they floated above the tree and pond and with that I felt a release. My balloons are gone, somewhere over yonder and like them my prayers have left my lips and now lie in the Father's heart. I have no string to continue to clinch to but I trust they will be heard and He will respond.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
A Note To You and The Roaring 20's
Tonight I write from the sweet spot of my bed in pj's I haven't worn in years cause I forget about them. Today, because clothing options were low they emerged to the top. They are sassy and fun enough that I want to wake up in them on my 29th birthday.
In a few short hours it will be my birthday. Nothing will change in the world. People will get up, go to work, and continue on with their routines. I will too. Yet tonight, in my sassy pants, I feel like I'm on the precipice of something gigantic. A good gigantic. Like I'm at the peak of a roller coaster that's been building and all fun is about to break lose. It may be the sugar from all the dough I snuck bites of talking or I may just be on to something.
Midnight marks the first day of the last year of my twenties. This is a thrilling time. The twenties have held soooo much life in them. And at this moment in time (though it does change regularly) I anticipate with joy, what the 30's will hold. I can't just let my twenties go without giving them a proper farewell though.
So, I was thinking, what if we made a list of the things we love about our twenties! The Roaring 20's if you will. Post in the comment box or on my facebook page and I'll compile the best and some of my own onto a Roaring 20's page. And we can celebrate the life of our 20's before going into the Great Depression of our 30's. :) Just kidding! But wouldn't that be fun!
You can tell us, if you're younger, what you anticipate about your 20's (and we'll laugh at you). If you're older tell us what you loved about your 20's (and we'll cry with you). And if you're living in the midst of them this very moment tell us what you love about them (and we'll nod our heads in agreement with you). Married single, mother, childless, man, woman share away. This could be fun aye?
In a few short hours it will be my birthday. Nothing will change in the world. People will get up, go to work, and continue on with their routines. I will too. Yet tonight, in my sassy pants, I feel like I'm on the precipice of something gigantic. A good gigantic. Like I'm at the peak of a roller coaster that's been building and all fun is about to break lose. It may be the sugar from all the dough I snuck bites of talking or I may just be on to something.
Midnight marks the first day of the last year of my twenties. This is a thrilling time. The twenties have held soooo much life in them. And at this moment in time (though it does change regularly) I anticipate with joy, what the 30's will hold. I can't just let my twenties go without giving them a proper farewell though.
So, I was thinking, what if we made a list of the things we love about our twenties! The Roaring 20's if you will. Post in the comment box or on my facebook page and I'll compile the best and some of my own onto a Roaring 20's page. And we can celebrate the life of our 20's before going into the Great Depression of our 30's. :) Just kidding! But wouldn't that be fun!
You can tell us, if you're younger, what you anticipate about your 20's (and we'll laugh at you). If you're older tell us what you loved about your 20's (and we'll cry with you). And if you're living in the midst of them this very moment tell us what you love about them (and we'll nod our heads in agreement with you). Married single, mother, childless, man, woman share away. This could be fun aye?
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Reality part 2
I typically like to come to the table with more than this, but today I can muster pj's and a robe. I imagine myself being like some of these other blogging women; posting pictures of my cutest new outfit, writing DIY instructions for the most creative thing I'm making, cooking up recipes and sharing them with you here; all while wearing a sweet dress, glorious flats, awesome jewelry, with well groomed hair, and makeup.
I'm a L-O-N-G way off from that today. My hair is in a pony atop my head with wild curls protruding from every direction, I'm considering not even showering, and I've just eaten leftover pizza for breakfast. Ya, not quiet the same as that overactive imagination of mine painted right?
But I laugh none the less, because the reality is that behind these computer screens are real people, with real lives, that can get real crazy and messy. And the reality is that pictures are taken when people are at their finest, some blogs are written in the wee morning hours in pjs with coffee breath, and no one lives a picture perfect life all of the time.
My reality right now is that ; I'm exhausted from the choices others are making that affect lots of little lives, my father is in the ICU, Cheshire Farm is turning into a mad house, and I'm beginning the last year of my 20's which is a daily roller coaster ride of emotions. I have clean laundry in a basket that's been folded but not put away and another load drying that will most likely sit in there for another few days. I have dishes in the sink that have been rinsed but not washed. And my tub, that refuses to drain correctly, has developed a nice thin soap film. Life is messy right now, alright.
But can I tell you something else? All of those things may be a disaster and slightly depressing but sitting in the hospital room with my dad yesterday, we had the best conversation we've had in my near 29 years of existence. We laughed. I cried. We talked about poverty and oppression and for the first time EVER had a similar view. My heart swells with joy just thinking about it. Then while he was resting soundly in his bed, my mom and I had a great discussion about Hebrews as I shared my bible study with her. And in a few moments I'm going to snuggle up with both off them in a cozy hospital room and watch my birthday movie of choice- You've Got Mail.
The dishes will be there when I come back. The laundry can always be wrinkled released. The tub will have to be cleaned another day. And at least I'll wash my face and brush my teeth. The chaos isn't changing any time soon, but moments like these with my parents are few and far between. So I'm going to savor them, even if they're in hospital rooms because well, this IS my reality.
I'm a L-O-N-G way off from that today. My hair is in a pony atop my head with wild curls protruding from every direction, I'm considering not even showering, and I've just eaten leftover pizza for breakfast. Ya, not quiet the same as that overactive imagination of mine painted right?
But I laugh none the less, because the reality is that behind these computer screens are real people, with real lives, that can get real crazy and messy. And the reality is that pictures are taken when people are at their finest, some blogs are written in the wee morning hours in pjs with coffee breath, and no one lives a picture perfect life all of the time.
My reality right now is that ; I'm exhausted from the choices others are making that affect lots of little lives, my father is in the ICU, Cheshire Farm is turning into a mad house, and I'm beginning the last year of my 20's which is a daily roller coaster ride of emotions. I have clean laundry in a basket that's been folded but not put away and another load drying that will most likely sit in there for another few days. I have dishes in the sink that have been rinsed but not washed. And my tub, that refuses to drain correctly, has developed a nice thin soap film. Life is messy right now, alright.
But can I tell you something else? All of those things may be a disaster and slightly depressing but sitting in the hospital room with my dad yesterday, we had the best conversation we've had in my near 29 years of existence. We laughed. I cried. We talked about poverty and oppression and for the first time EVER had a similar view. My heart swells with joy just thinking about it. Then while he was resting soundly in his bed, my mom and I had a great discussion about Hebrews as I shared my bible study with her. And in a few moments I'm going to snuggle up with both off them in a cozy hospital room and watch my birthday movie of choice- You've Got Mail.
The dishes will be there when I come back. The laundry can always be wrinkled released. The tub will have to be cleaned another day. And at least I'll wash my face and brush my teeth. The chaos isn't changing any time soon, but moments like these with my parents are few and far between. So I'm going to savor them, even if they're in hospital rooms because well, this IS my reality.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Reality
I think about this place often. Where I let my fingers wonder wherever my mind may go. And I've been thinking about how much I have neglected it, posting maybe once a month, if I can. My rationale is always that once life calms down a bit I'll be more consistent. :) But here's my reality, that maybe the rest of you have already come to grips with, but I am just coming to, life isn't calming down. Nor is there a foreseeable time in which it will. My reality is a little crazy but these are the days I've been given to live within and if I continue to wait until things are calm or typical I'm realizing I will have waited my life away.
My little spot's name is Life Under Grace not Life Under Control. It's wild, messy, and unpredictable which I'm just kind of resigning myself to love. And therefore resigning myself to write about. The days of having time to ponder things and then actually write about them are few and far between if I can even remember the pontifications.
So tonight I just wanted to tell you to watch out for me..., on the roads..., at night..., when it's raining.... Driving home there were moments of white knuckling the steering wheel praying that God would somehow give me eyes to see the lane before me. I have astigmatism that causes my vision to be completely JACKED UP at night with wet roads. I mean, for all I can tell, that stretch of highway is nothing but a mirror reflecting every light, sign, and drop of rain. Lines, that once in day light gave me clear guidelines as to where to drive, disappear and I'm left to guess where they may be based on the lights ahead of me. It's a crazy world I live in when it's raining at night. Things that used to make sense no longer do. Roads I know, now seem like foreign treacherous places. I told you about the time I flooded my engine by driving into a 2 foot puddle didn't I? Depth perception, also apart of those necessary qualities while driving that I lack due to this condition of mine.
All that to say be praying for the money for me to hire a chauffeur for rainy nights, or pray that God sends some awesome guy with fantastic vision day and night (not night vision cause that would be strange) to drive us home in these events, or encourage me to go ahead and chat with a doctor about getting glasses to help correct it because it's dangerous to me, to you, and to them- whoever they may be.
My little spot's name is Life Under Grace not Life Under Control. It's wild, messy, and unpredictable which I'm just kind of resigning myself to love. And therefore resigning myself to write about. The days of having time to ponder things and then actually write about them are few and far between if I can even remember the pontifications.
So tonight I just wanted to tell you to watch out for me..., on the roads..., at night..., when it's raining.... Driving home there were moments of white knuckling the steering wheel praying that God would somehow give me eyes to see the lane before me. I have astigmatism that causes my vision to be completely JACKED UP at night with wet roads. I mean, for all I can tell, that stretch of highway is nothing but a mirror reflecting every light, sign, and drop of rain. Lines, that once in day light gave me clear guidelines as to where to drive, disappear and I'm left to guess where they may be based on the lights ahead of me. It's a crazy world I live in when it's raining at night. Things that used to make sense no longer do. Roads I know, now seem like foreign treacherous places. I told you about the time I flooded my engine by driving into a 2 foot puddle didn't I? Depth perception, also apart of those necessary qualities while driving that I lack due to this condition of mine.
All that to say be praying for the money for me to hire a chauffeur for rainy nights, or pray that God sends some awesome guy with fantastic vision day and night (not night vision cause that would be strange) to drive us home in these events, or encourage me to go ahead and chat with a doctor about getting glasses to help correct it because it's dangerous to me, to you, and to them- whoever they may be.
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