"Sometimes the most disciplined thing you can do is go back to bed" -- Emily Cash
Yep, that's right. I quoted myself.
That is what I said, in my mind, as I got back into bed for the 2nd time this morning. I didn't go to either of my jobs today, and it has been far too long.
The past two nights have included retail dreams, and last night I was up at 3 am making lists of things I needed to do today. Clearly, this sista needed a day off.
And I decided to flip-off my to-do list. I woke up late, needlessly internet window-shopped, read some blogs, and then decided to eat some breakfast.
Josh will probably tense up just hearing that I took my toast to bed with me (crumbs = death), where I finally started reading "Notes From a Small Island," by Bill Bryson. Too long has that book sat untouched, and it was fun to revel in the charms of Britian (tea, rain, cranky old ladies, big knit sweaters, etc). Josh and I have toyed with the idea of living abroad someday, and both of us can picture a life in England -- all the more reason I enjoyed my vicarious romp through England this morning.
I went for a run, got a haircut and went to the chiropractor.
Thank you Jesus for some time to breathe!
And off to my bed for naptime...
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
O Holy Night
Though I have quite the fondness for academia, and I often find myself missing the classroom, there are some parts of being a student I do NOT miss. I have seen quite a few students come into Barnes and Noble bearing an armful of textbooks and slumping upstairs to the cafe for a long study session. I do not miss having award-winning bags under my eyes, nor do I miss having to go on a post-finals caffeine detox, nor do I miss the experience of shoving my brain full of information for hours at a time.
And I realized that (even though I am working WAY too much right now), being finals-free allows me much more mental space to dwell on the advent season. One of my favorite Christmas songs (which is technically an advent song), "O Come O Come Emmanuel" has been like a background track in my mind for the last couple weeks. I love that it is somber and monastic, yet expectant and jubilant. It reminds me to again seek and expect "God with Us" -- to desire His immanent presence and believe fully that it is given.
I have a friend who excuses his lack of holiday cheer by saying, "I celebrate the Incarnation year-round." I will be quick to acknowledge how right it is to celebrate the coming of Jesus in daily life, but an ingrained thankfulness for the gift of Jesus seems all the more reason to love this particular season. It deserves special, marked attention. Though I celebrate my marriage every day, I know that anniversaries will bring reflection and intentional communion.
I was driving to work the other day when I heard "O Holy Night" on the radio. If for no other reason, get excited about Christmas because theologically rich lyrics pervade the radio! I am always moved by that song, and I was in tears when I got to work. Here is just the first verse:
O Holy Night! The stars are brightly shining,
My favorite part? "For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn" ... Heck ya! Thank you, Jesus, for the inbreaking power of your love, for salvific power of your sacrifice, and the restorative power of your humility.
I hope that in these last few days before Christmas, you too get a chance to really engage the advent season and prepare your heart for the exuberance of Christ given to us! One last thought for you from Phillipians:
Side note:
I have the best husband ever. I was having a terrible day on Friday, and couldn't shake my frustration and sadness that night. Josh asked, "Is there anything I can do to fix it?" My reply? "I want to break something." He responded with an "Ok" that seemed laced with my-wife-is-crazy undertones, and he left the room. Minutes later, he told me to come out to the living room. He had brought out all the little wooden boxes from our wedding centerpieces, laid them on the floor, and then procured a hammer. Mass destruction followed, until there was wood all over the apartment and we were both sitting on the floor laughing. I love him ... and I promise I am mentally stable.
And I realized that (even though I am working WAY too much right now), being finals-free allows me much more mental space to dwell on the advent season. One of my favorite Christmas songs (which is technically an advent song), "O Come O Come Emmanuel" has been like a background track in my mind for the last couple weeks. I love that it is somber and monastic, yet expectant and jubilant. It reminds me to again seek and expect "God with Us" -- to desire His immanent presence and believe fully that it is given.
I have a friend who excuses his lack of holiday cheer by saying, "I celebrate the Incarnation year-round." I will be quick to acknowledge how right it is to celebrate the coming of Jesus in daily life, but an ingrained thankfulness for the gift of Jesus seems all the more reason to love this particular season. It deserves special, marked attention. Though I celebrate my marriage every day, I know that anniversaries will bring reflection and intentional communion.
I was driving to work the other day when I heard "O Holy Night" on the radio. If for no other reason, get excited about Christmas because theologically rich lyrics pervade the radio! I am always moved by that song, and I was in tears when I got to work. Here is just the first verse:
O Holy Night! The stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of the dear Saviour's birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining.
Till He appeared and the Spirit felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices!
O night divine, the night when Christ was born;
O night, O Holy Night , O night divine!
O night, O Holy Night , O night divine!
My favorite part? "For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn" ... Heck ya! Thank you, Jesus, for the inbreaking power of your love, for salvific power of your sacrifice, and the restorative power of your humility.I hope that in these last few days before Christmas, you too get a chance to really engage the advent season and prepare your heart for the exuberance of Christ given to us! One last thought for you from Phillipians:
"[Jesus],who, being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;
rather, he made himself nothing
by taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself
by becoming obedient to death—
even death on a cross!
Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
and gave him the name that is above every name,
that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father."
did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;
rather, he made himself nothing
by taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself
by becoming obedient to death—
even death on a cross!
Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
and gave him the name that is above every name,
that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father."
Side note:
I have the best husband ever. I was having a terrible day on Friday, and couldn't shake my frustration and sadness that night. Josh asked, "Is there anything I can do to fix it?" My reply? "I want to break something." He responded with an "Ok" that seemed laced with my-wife-is-crazy undertones, and he left the room. Minutes later, he told me to come out to the living room. He had brought out all the little wooden boxes from our wedding centerpieces, laid them on the floor, and then procured a hammer. Mass destruction followed, until there was wood all over the apartment and we were both sitting on the floor laughing. I love him ... and I promise I am mentally stable.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
You're Going Down, Diabetes!
So I had this weird, creepy, morbid dream last week. When I first woke up, the details were vivid and fresh, but now most of the dream is just a shadow. All I really remember is that I was pregnant with our first baby, and I was killing her with my diabetes. Needless to say, I woke up pretty shaken and have spent a good amount of time being haunted by that dream. I have always believed that bad dreams do not come from Jesus ... for example: when I was little, I had a recurring dream where a wrinkled, ET-like creature lived in our basement and told me lies. That is clearly not of God. But when I woke from this dream last week, I couldn't shake the notion that the Lord was trying to tell me something. This was not the first time He has convicted me of the way that I handle my diabetes, but somehow the realization that I could forever mar my own child made His message much more poignant.
So I made an appointment with my endocrinologist, and saw her two days ago. She was disappointed and frustrated with my out-of-control blood sugars, and my sky-high A1C test (for those of you who understand, it was 9.9 -- I know ... terrible). Though she expresses similar sentiments every time, I don't really change. But when she found out I was married, she said earnestly, "PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE do NOT get pregnant!"
Apparently, high blood sugars can cause problems with the baby's heart, spine and other organs not forming well in the early weeks of pregnancy. Too much sugar from the mother causes the baby to grow too large, causing the baby’s lungs to develop more slowly, risk of early delivery, risk for injury during birth, and low blood sugar in the baby at birth. And it creates risk of stillbirth. Oh my goodness.
Just to clarify, I am not pregnant. And we are not planning on getting pregnant. But what if I did? What is my sweet first baby is stillborn because I was flippant and irresponsible? NO WAY.
So the bad blood sugars end here. And I need all the support, encouragement and accountability I can get.
Here is the plan.
1. Stop living in denial and actually take care of my diabetes. No excuses. This means actually taking my long-acting insulin, checking my blood-sugar obsessively and not pretending that little snacks don't require insulin.
2. Avoid unnecessary, simple sugars.
3. Start exercising.
I have made these kind of promises to myself before, but there is some maternal gumption involved this time. For you, unborn-fetus-child, I shall conquer this stupid disease!
So this morning I went for a run/walk. After about 5 minutes, I was already thinking about heading home ... my legs felt like lead. Maybe it was the biting cold, or the fact that I was up at 2am with a low blood sugar eating donuts, or maybe it was just my fear of failure. And that's when a favorite worship song started playing on my iPod.
All the evidence suggests that I can't muster self-discipline and start excelling at my diabetic care. But, turns out, I know that God desires change and he will leverage his expansive power on my behalf. So watch out, diabetes.
Side note: I started reading "Street of Crocodiles," which I mentioned in an earlier post, and I cannot stop mulling over something from the introduction. When speaking of a favorite book, Schulz said, "The existence of this book is a pledge that the tangled, mute masses of things unformulated within us may yet emerge to the surface miraculously distilled." How true is that of scripture? The Bible doesn't itself create perfect clarity, but promises that miraculous distillation. Awesome. This makes me wish I could teach a class on reading the Bible through the eyes of chemistry.
So I made an appointment with my endocrinologist, and saw her two days ago. She was disappointed and frustrated with my out-of-control blood sugars, and my sky-high A1C test (for those of you who understand, it was 9.9 -- I know ... terrible). Though she expresses similar sentiments every time, I don't really change. But when she found out I was married, she said earnestly, "PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE do NOT get pregnant!"
Apparently, high blood sugars can cause problems with the baby's heart, spine and other organs not forming well in the early weeks of pregnancy. Too much sugar from the mother causes the baby to grow too large, causing the baby’s lungs to develop more slowly, risk of early delivery, risk for injury during birth, and low blood sugar in the baby at birth. And it creates risk of stillbirth. Oh my goodness.
Just to clarify, I am not pregnant. And we are not planning on getting pregnant. But what if I did? What is my sweet first baby is stillborn because I was flippant and irresponsible? NO WAY.
So the bad blood sugars end here. And I need all the support, encouragement and accountability I can get.
Here is the plan.
1. Stop living in denial and actually take care of my diabetes. No excuses. This means actually taking my long-acting insulin, checking my blood-sugar obsessively and not pretending that little snacks don't require insulin.
2. Avoid unnecessary, simple sugars.
3. Start exercising.
I have made these kind of promises to myself before, but there is some maternal gumption involved this time. For you, unborn-fetus-child, I shall conquer this stupid disease!
So this morning I went for a run/walk. After about 5 minutes, I was already thinking about heading home ... my legs felt like lead. Maybe it was the biting cold, or the fact that I was up at 2am with a low blood sugar eating donuts, or maybe it was just my fear of failure. And that's when a favorite worship song started playing on my iPod.
If You say go, we will go
If You say wait, we will wait
If You say step out on the water
And they say it can't be done
We'll fix our eyes on You and we will come
If You say wait, we will wait
If You say step out on the water
And they say it can't be done
We'll fix our eyes on You and we will come
All the evidence suggests that I can't muster self-discipline and start excelling at my diabetic care. But, turns out, I know that God desires change and he will leverage his expansive power on my behalf. So watch out, diabetes.
Side note: I started reading "Street of Crocodiles," which I mentioned in an earlier post, and I cannot stop mulling over something from the introduction. When speaking of a favorite book, Schulz said, "The existence of this book is a pledge that the tangled, mute masses of things unformulated within us may yet emerge to the surface miraculously distilled." How true is that of scripture? The Bible doesn't itself create perfect clarity, but promises that miraculous distillation. Awesome. This makes me wish I could teach a class on reading the Bible through the eyes of chemistry.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Thanksgivin' Days
Anyone who has known me for any length of time has heard me boast of my Native American heritage -- though a small fraction of the blood flowing through my veins (like 1/64th), I claim it proudly. So of course, Josh has heard of this.
Thanksgiving morning, when I was focused on Christmas long-johns and finding a tree for our little home, Josh refused to let me ignore the holiday at hand. I woke him up to tell him that I am thankful for him, and then he decided that we should be pilgrims and Indians for the day. That didn't actually really happen, but he let me be Pocahontas even though she was not present at Plymouth rock. That is true love.
And yesterday, while we were driving, Josh gave himself an Indian name. Due to the curse word present in the aforementioned name, it shall remain unknown to you. But when I asked him what my Indian name should be, he said "Princess." Again with the love.
But in all seriousness, we had a wonderful holiday. I am especially thankful for family this year, and all the new people that word encompasses. Having two families to love and support you is doublely awesome. We were sad to miss seeing both of them this year, since we were stuck in town because of my retail job. But we were so graciously adopted by a dear friend from church, and we got to eat wonderful homecooked food, watch football, talk about ministry, and just generally enjoy the present company. It was truly a blessing.
And last night, we had a bunch of friends over to celebrate the beginning of the Christmas season with baked gloriousness, spirits, games and some spontaneous dance partying. In preparation, Josh and I finally finished setting up our apartment ... and everyone loved it. It was so nice to settle in last night with all appliance boxes gone and everything in its place. It really feels like OUR little home.
One last little conversational treat for you from this morning:
Emily: "Would you still love me if I smiled like this (insert ugliest face of all time)?"
Josh: "Yes, I would still love you. If your face looked like a tennis racket, I would love you. If your feet were marshmallows, I would eat them. And I would love you."
Thanksgiving morning, when I was focused on Christmas long-johns and finding a tree for our little home, Josh refused to let me ignore the holiday at hand. I woke him up to tell him that I am thankful for him, and then he decided that we should be pilgrims and Indians for the day. That didn't actually really happen, but he let me be Pocahontas even though she was not present at Plymouth rock. That is true love.
And yesterday, while we were driving, Josh gave himself an Indian name. Due to the curse word present in the aforementioned name, it shall remain unknown to you. But when I asked him what my Indian name should be, he said "Princess." Again with the love.
But in all seriousness, we had a wonderful holiday. I am especially thankful for family this year, and all the new people that word encompasses. Having two families to love and support you is doublely awesome. We were sad to miss seeing both of them this year, since we were stuck in town because of my retail job. But we were so graciously adopted by a dear friend from church, and we got to eat wonderful homecooked food, watch football, talk about ministry, and just generally enjoy the present company. It was truly a blessing.
And last night, we had a bunch of friends over to celebrate the beginning of the Christmas season with baked gloriousness, spirits, games and some spontaneous dance partying. In preparation, Josh and I finally finished setting up our apartment ... and everyone loved it. It was so nice to settle in last night with all appliance boxes gone and everything in its place. It really feels like OUR little home.
One last little conversational treat for you from this morning:
Emily: "Would you still love me if I smiled like this (insert ugliest face of all time)?"
Josh: "Yes, I would still love you. If your face looked like a tennis racket, I would love you. If your feet were marshmallows, I would eat them. And I would love you."
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Christmas Movies
Josh and I were cleaning out our movies today, and I came across some of my favorite Christmas movies ... The Holiday, Elf, and Christmas Vacation. But as soon as I beheld the VHS case housing my favorite Christmas movie, I pretty much freaked out with excitement. And I started singing the following song, while Josh just kind of ignored my ridiculousness.
That's right, people. My favorite Christmas movie is Muppet Christmas Carol. And I cannot wait to decorate our first family Christmas tree with Joshamo, watch this movie, and drink hot chocolate. Love this season!
In other news, here is a short verbal exchange the hubs and I had yesterday:
Me: "You are the best husband in the land!"
Josh: "You are the best wife in the land ... and the sea."
My mathematical interpretation? Emily > a mermaid wife. Holla!
Which makes me want to show you this (Josh sings this song more than anyone could possibly comprehend):
That's right, people. My favorite Christmas movie is Muppet Christmas Carol. And I cannot wait to decorate our first family Christmas tree with Joshamo, watch this movie, and drink hot chocolate. Love this season!
In other news, here is a short verbal exchange the hubs and I had yesterday:
Me: "You are the best husband in the land!"
Josh: "You are the best wife in the land ... and the sea."
My mathematical interpretation? Emily > a mermaid wife. Holla!
Which makes me want to show you this (Josh sings this song more than anyone could possibly comprehend):
Monday, November 22, 2010
Reset
God has this wonderful way of resetting my perspective. As you may have noticed, I currently have a little blog obsession -- I am not only writing more on my own, but also investigating a myriad of other people's blogs.
Yesterday, I was reading one such blog, written by a one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. And she was decked out in beautiful, interesting clothes. I started to have a little pity party about how I will never be able to shop at Anthropologie (but really ... who can?) and got frustrated enough to navigate away from the page. At the time, it seemed totally rational ... what woman doesn't wish she had more money for clothes and shoes?
And then I went to church in the morning.
12Stone is adopting the unemployed in our area by committing to feed 5,000 families for Christmas. That is around 20,000 people. Awesome. We watched a video of some families in our congregation who are struggling with unemployment, and I was astounded by their trust in God despite seemingly dire situations. And then God said to me, "Hey, remember that time that you were petty and selfish? Ya ... me too." Instantly reset. Thus Josh and I had a conversation last night about how we can use our 5 loaves and 2 fish to be a part of the generosity of Christ this season.
I was at work this week, and there was a woman sitting in the middle of the "Careers" aisle at Barnes and Noble, books strewn around her, voraciously writing on a notepad of hers. I asked her "Are you finding everything ok?," she said yes, and then muttered something under her breath as I walked away. I walked back, and asked her what she said, and she replied, "Everything except a job." I haven't really stopped thinking about our very short interaction -- you have to be pretty desperate to admit that you're floundering to a random stranger. I ache for her, and pray God's provision for her and her family. And I would love it if he would use me!
How do you need to be reset?
I came across this quote in my favorite book of all time, Orthodoxy. Chesterton writes, “To modern man the heavens are actually below the earth. The explanation is simple: he is standing on his head; which is a very weak pedestal to stand on. But when he has found his feet again he knows it. Christianity satisfies suddenly and perfectly a man’s ancestral instinct for being the right way up; satisfies it supremely in this; that by its creed, joy becomes something gigantic and sadness something small and special.”
Stop standing on your head, allow God to rightsize you, and watch as joy becomes gigantic in your life!
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Came across a lovely video today ... and was moved to tears.
This woman's courage is breathtaking.
As I was reading a little bit of her BLOG earlier, I couldn't help but find her a little bit magical. She has beautiful style, beautiful babies, and a beautiful spirit.
My favorite part of the video? ... the way her husband looks at her. It's like her burned skin is translucent to him, and he sees straight through to her heart.
As I was reading, I could hear the echo of a sweet song in the back of my mind. Everyone at 12Stone is obbessed with this song right now, and I am shamelessly part of the crowd (though the band is from Colorado ... so take that, all you Georgians!)
Listen in ...
Redemption is so sweet. Lord, engulf us in it.
This woman's courage is breathtaking.
As I was reading a little bit of her BLOG earlier, I couldn't help but find her a little bit magical. She has beautiful style, beautiful babies, and a beautiful spirit.
My favorite part of the video? ... the way her husband looks at her. It's like her burned skin is translucent to him, and he sees straight through to her heart.
As I was reading, I could hear the echo of a sweet song in the back of my mind. Everyone at 12Stone is obbessed with this song right now, and I am shamelessly part of the crowd (though the band is from Colorado ... so take that, all you Georgians!)
Listen in ...
Redemption is so sweet. Lord, engulf us in it.
A Modest Proposal
I try and avoid blog rants, but I just couldn't today.
Christmas-time craziness has officially begun at the mall, and my normal 20 min drive to work took substantially longer due to the massive influx of holiday shoppers.
Said shoppers, I have only three humbles requests:
(1) When the sign says "keep moving," just go ahead and do that.
(2) If you have a tiny car, please do not pull all the way into the space. You lure me into a false sense of excitement over finding a spot to park, only to squash my dreams.
(3) Please try to do your shopping at a normal time of day ... not 11:00pm. Or at least don't be needy that late at night.
That is all.
Christmas-time craziness has officially begun at the mall, and my normal 20 min drive to work took substantially longer due to the massive influx of holiday shoppers.
Said shoppers, I have only three humbles requests:
(1) When the sign says "keep moving," just go ahead and do that.
(2) If you have a tiny car, please do not pull all the way into the space. You lure me into a false sense of excitement over finding a spot to park, only to squash my dreams.
(3) Please try to do your shopping at a normal time of day ... not 11:00pm. Or at least don't be needy that late at night.
That is all.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Tree of Codes
I am a book dork ... most of you know that. And I know several readers of this blog share that affinity. Thus, I have to share the book that I am currently most excited about.
I have been a fan of Jonathan Safran Foer ever since reading "Eating Animals". Now, all you vegetarian-haters, don't go gettin your panties in a twist and write him off. That book is fabulous, even if you have absolutely no interest in a meatless lifestyle. It is not the dry, morality-wielding literature that characterizes most vegetarian writing. It is funny, creative, philosophical, anecdotal, well-rounded and engaging. I have yet to read his other two books, "Everything is Illuminated" and "Extremely Load and Incredibly Close," but I saw that Barnes and Noble is carrying a pretty hardcover edition with both titles in it (good Xmas present ... I'm just sayin').
But he recently released his newest work, "Tree of Codes." I am thrilled at the prospect of reading it, because it is not an entirely original piece of work, but a story fashioned out of words from "Street of Crocodiles" by Bruno Schulz. I was reading about it online, and came across Foer's own description of the task --
I have been a fan of Jonathan Safran Foer ever since reading "Eating Animals". Now, all you vegetarian-haters, don't go gettin your panties in a twist and write him off. That book is fabulous, even if you have absolutely no interest in a meatless lifestyle. It is not the dry, morality-wielding literature that characterizes most vegetarian writing. It is funny, creative, philosophical, anecdotal, well-rounded and engaging. I have yet to read his other two books, "Everything is Illuminated" and "Extremely Load and Incredibly Close," but I saw that Barnes and Noble is carrying a pretty hardcover edition with both titles in it (good Xmas present ... I'm just sayin').
But he recently released his newest work, "Tree of Codes." I am thrilled at the prospect of reading it, because it is not an entirely original piece of work, but a story fashioned out of words from "Street of Crocodiles" by Bruno Schulz. I was reading about it online, and came across Foer's own description of the task --
Working on this book was extraordinarily difficult. Unlike novel writing, which is the quintessence of freedom, here I had my hands tightly bound. Of course one hundred people would have come up with one hundred different books using this same process of erasing words from "Street of Crocodiles" in order to carve out a new story, but every choice I made was dependent on a choice Bruno Schulz had made. On top of which , so many of Schulz's sentences feel elemental, unbreakdownable. And his writing is so unbelievably good, so much better than anything that could conceivably be done with it, that more often than not I simply wanted to leave it alone.
For about a year I always had a printed manuscript of "Street 
At times I felt that I was making a gravestone rubbing of "The Street of Crocodiles," and at times that I was transcribing a dream that "The Street of Crocodiles" might have had. I have never read another book so intensely or so many times. I've never memorized so many phrases, or, as the act of erasure progressed, forgotten so many phrases. Tree of Codes is a small response to a great book. It is a story in its own right, but it is not exactly a work of fiction, or even a book.
I am astounded by the creativity of this task, but the relentless commitment to his artistic vision is what really arrested me. I am sure someone else has thought of creating a story in this way, but surely shrugged it off as too daunting and impractical a task. But Foer was not easily discouraged, and invested the whole of his mental and artistic energies into something wildly new and wonderful.
I haven't even read it, but I am pretty sure the entire world should read it -- the cutouts in the pages seem an inspriation to look at the world differently, to scheme drastic and undoable dreams, and then offer the world your gifts by doing those very dreams.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Hairs
Apparently I have one of those 'familiar faces,' because people are always telling me that I look like someone they know -- sometimes celebrities, sometimes their friends and family I have never met, and once I even got compared to someone's brother (sad day).
But ever since I got my hair cut short, I have gotten compared to a slew of celebrities who have one thing in common ... short hair. I look nothing like some of them, but apparently my haircut is now my defining feature.
And after Emma Watson cut her hair off in defiance of her long-standing Hermoine role, I was just waiting for someone to compare me to her. And, yesterday, it happened.
Here are some pics of people that I supposedly look like:
But ever since I got my hair cut short, I have gotten compared to a slew of celebrities who have one thing in common ... short hair. I look nothing like some of them, but apparently my haircut is now my defining feature.
And after Emma Watson cut her hair off in defiance of her long-standing Hermoine role, I was just waiting for someone to compare me to her. And, yesterday, it happened.
Here are some pics of people that I supposedly look like:
Don't get me wrong ... I am flattered! All of these women are beautiful, but I don't look anything like Carey Mulligan or Keira Knightly. Demi Moore in "Ghost" was by far my favorite comparison (thank you, random stranger at Barnes and Noble) because it is probably her worst look ever. And apparently I am rockin' it.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
So Far
I have been married for 1 whole month as of yesterday! It feels like a lot longer than that (probably due to the craziness that is my life), but not in a bad way. Our love is comfortable, and it just feels like the comfort that comes with time. Josh and I had a mini-celebration last night that included lipstick & heels, dinner at the Geisha House in Atlantic station, fudge & a giant caramel apple, some store browsing and an in-bed showing of our
wedding video. Turns out our little ring-bearer, Cal, was the best part of our wedding. He was just runnin' around in his own little world, eating sand and hanging out while we were getting married. Other revelations that came from watching our wedding video:
1. My mom dances by running in place. Awesome.
2. We picked the most ridiculous song we could think of for our first dance, and I am not sure anybody caught on.
3. My bridesmaids were beautiful and incredibly attentive during the ceremony, while Josh's groomsmen were antsy and distracted. Women, 1. Men, 0.
4. I like the way my left side looks better than my right side. Don't judge.
5. My sister is really pretty, and my dad is "smooth" (according to Josh).
6. Joel's dancing is the best.thing.ever.
7. The day really was as perfect as I remember!
Yesterday at lunch, my sweet friend Lauren asked what the biggest adjustments have been. I told her that waking up to Josh hocking loogies (spelled according to urban dictionary) in the shower has been quite the adjustment, but that's about as bad as it gets. My serious answer to her question was adjusting to being totally honest and forthcoming ... not that we kept secrets before, but trying to make my thought-life an open book has been quite the challenge. But it is a joy to be known more fully, and to love him more deeply than I ever thought possible.
Here are some little insights into our oh-so-fresh marriage:
- we have developed this habit of getting back in bed for a morning snuggle after we have already gotten ready ... love it!
- because Josh just lives his life with intensity, we now approach grocery shopping with a divide-conquer mentality, racing to leave the store as fast as possible. This is quite the adjustment for me, who loves to mosey through the aisles.
- when I read at night, Josh makes me tell him what is happening in the book and then he falls asleep (PS for Josh -- Robert isn't dead!)
- every night, we take a few minutes to communicate WHY we love each other. For example, one night Josh told me he loves me because I leave a half-empty coffee cup in the same place every day. I never thought anyone would appreciate this behavior ... Josh is the best.
- I have started reading this blog called Today's Letters (thanks Kim!), and I was so excited to find out that they share in one of our traditions (click HERE to read about it). Some sweet little old lady gave us a glass biscuit (biscuit used in the old-school sense meaning cookie) jar for a wedding present, and little does she know what we are using it for.
In short, being married is the jam. It miraculous, really. Can't wait for the days, months and years to come!
In other news, I have come across the word egregious twice already this morning. I think that is a divine nudge to learn the definition. Here you go:
wedding video. Turns out our little ring-bearer, Cal, was the best part of our wedding. He was just runnin' around in his own little world, eating sand and hanging out while we were getting married. Other revelations that came from watching our wedding video:1. My mom dances by running in place. Awesome.
2. We picked the most ridiculous song we could think of for our first dance, and I am not sure anybody caught on.
3. My bridesmaids were beautiful and incredibly attentive during the ceremony, while Josh's groomsmen were antsy and distracted. Women, 1. Men, 0.
4. I like the way my left side looks better than my right side. Don't judge.
5. My sister is really pretty, and my dad is "smooth" (according to Josh).
6. Joel's dancing is the best.thing.ever.
7. The day really was as perfect as I remember!
Yesterday at lunch, my sweet friend Lauren asked what the biggest adjustments have been. I told her that waking up to Josh hocking loogies (spelled according to urban dictionary) in the shower has been quite the adjustment, but that's about as bad as it gets. My serious answer to her question was adjusting to being totally honest and forthcoming ... not that we kept secrets before, but trying to make my thought-life an open book has been quite the challenge. But it is a joy to be known more fully, and to love him more deeply than I ever thought possible.
Here are some little insights into our oh-so-fresh marriage:
- we have developed this habit of getting back in bed for a morning snuggle after we have already gotten ready ... love it!
- because Josh just lives his life with intensity, we now approach grocery shopping with a divide-conquer mentality, racing to leave the store as fast as possible. This is quite the adjustment for me, who loves to mosey through the aisles.
- when I read at night, Josh makes me tell him what is happening in the book and then he falls asleep (PS for Josh -- Robert isn't dead!)
- every night, we take a few minutes to communicate WHY we love each other. For example, one night Josh told me he loves me because I leave a half-empty coffee cup in the same place every day. I never thought anyone would appreciate this behavior ... Josh is the best.
- I have started reading this blog called Today's Letters (thanks Kim!), and I was so excited to find out that they share in one of our traditions (click HERE to read about it). Some sweet little old lady gave us a glass biscuit (biscuit used in the old-school sense meaning cookie) jar for a wedding present, and little does she know what we are using it for.
In short, being married is the jam. It miraculous, really. Can't wait for the days, months and years to come!
In other news, I have come across the word egregious twice already this morning. I think that is a divine nudge to learn the definition. Here you go:
1.extraordinary in some bad way; glaring; flagrant: an egregious mistake; an egregious liar.
2.Archaic . distinguished or eminent.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Too Long
So Josh and I are sharing a car these days, which means I arrived at work this morning exactly 2 hours before I wanted to be here. I have plenty of meaningful things that I could do, but I have been putzing around on the internet as a metaphorical middle-finger aimed at my undesired early arrival. In all all my world-wide-web wanderings this morning, I ended up reading some random blog posts.
Somehow, it had never occurred to me that blogging is a strange concept. I mean, I read the blogs of two people I have never met in my entire life, and I know intimate details of their goings-on. Weird.
And yet somehow that revelation left me wanting to blog. So here I am.
As I gallivanted through my blog page, I realized that I have been epically terrible about posting. Especially since these past few months have been some of the most important of my life! I wedded my forever man on October 16th, an event which precipitated some of my greatest joys and frustrations. Sorry, my blog-reading-friends, that I kept you in the dark during those days.
During that time, I kept wishing that the wedding was over -- and, trust me, I am glad that my mind is no longer plagued with crafty to-do lists. But regular life has not been the utopia I imagined.
This has nothing to do with Josh, however -- being married to him is the best thing ever! Every time we have to part, it hurts a little bit. I love being one with him.
But most other things about my life are less elating.
But God, as usual, is using his tricksy little schemes to teach me things. Don't worry -- more blogging will come.
But I just wanted to let you know that I am alive, and that my blog has a new address!
Somehow, it had never occurred to me that blogging is a strange concept. I mean, I read the blogs of two people I have never met in my entire life, and I know intimate details of their goings-on. Weird.
And yet somehow that revelation left me wanting to blog. So here I am.
As I gallivanted through my blog page, I realized that I have been epically terrible about posting. Especially since these past few months have been some of the most important of my life! I wedded my forever man on October 16th, an event which precipitated some of my greatest joys and frustrations. Sorry, my blog-reading-friends, that I kept you in the dark during those days.
During that time, I kept wishing that the wedding was over -- and, trust me, I am glad that my mind is no longer plagued with crafty to-do lists. But regular life has not been the utopia I imagined.
This has nothing to do with Josh, however -- being married to him is the best thing ever! Every time we have to part, it hurts a little bit. I love being one with him.
But most other things about my life are less elating.
But God, as usual, is using his tricksy little schemes to teach me things. Don't worry -- more blogging will come.
But I just wanted to let you know that I am alive, and that my blog has a new address!
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Long Time Coming
So it appears that I haven't blogged on here in two months -- for those few, faithful friends who read this, I apologize. I have done a minimal amount of blogging on an alternate blog (not sure I am ready to share those musings with the world), which is why I have been neglectful here.
To be honest, I don't even have anything important to blog right now -- I was just listening to Ray LaMontagne yesterday, and I just had to share my revelation about his voice.
His voice sounds like a campfire -- heated, crackly, and fed by woods that have seen seasons and stories. His voices creates shadows, creating a perfect palate for myths of simple heroes and ethereal maidens. His voice makes me crave flannel, romance and profundity. He makes my heart ache for a log-cabin retreat with my forever man, reading Tolkien and snuggling close.
That's some powerful music.
Side note -- In the Wikipedia article on Ray LaMontagne, it says he spent much of his time reading fantasy novels in the forest. I love that. It makes me feel better about singing oldies in the corner of the playground at recess. Maybe awesome adults are the inevitable result of weird children :)
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Offering
My chronic headaches have good days and bad days. That is not to say that their intensity varies much, but my attitude towards them is consistently undulating. Yesterday must have been a bad day, because the subject of my headaches weaseled its way into my subconscious. It had been a very long week, and I barely made it home and into my bed. Much to my chagrin, I didn't immediately fall asleep. Instead, I found myself in the chasm between wakefulness and deep sleep ... rest, we'll call it. And I had a dream ... not a day dream, or a regular dream, but a rather a cloudy vision, a love-child of my exhaustion and frustration.
I dreamt that I had been diagnosed with brain cancer and given 4 weeks to live. Don't worry -- I am not a hypochondriac nor have I given in to a sick fatalism. This is a concept I have entertained once or twice before, though -- years of headaches affords one the time to chase diagnostic rabbit trails. And I have already decided exactly what I would do in just such a scenario -- (1) I would marry Josh immediately if I hadn't already, and (2) I would jump on an airplane and head for Calcutta. There is a place in my heart that has always longed for India, and I have always esteemed Mother Teresa's work among the poor. Facing death myself, I can't imagine a more beautiful place to be than ministering in her home for the dying. To hold someone closely, to let your tears run together, to mourn the loss of this world while looking with expectation to the next ... I would want to bring hope to those who need Jesus so deeply.
In this dream, I had already gone to India, and when I came back to Atlanta, the leadership at 12Stone gave me the opportunity teach that Sunday morning. This especially was a hallucination, because interns will always look from afar at the mainstage platform (which is just fine with me). But it is perhaps a notion worth entertaining -- you are on the brink of life eternal, and you are given a platform to share whatever wisdom God has given you. What would you share?
In my dream, I taught on making your life an offering. A familiar topic perhaps, but with my physical body failing, being lain on a metaphorical alter, it was poignant. Or perhaps it was just awesome because it was MY dream :)
I have spent some time today meditating on what it means for my life to be an offering, and (interestingly enough), my dream sermon ministered to my conscious heart. The reason I think my deathbed ministry in India would be so powerful is because of the coexistence my pain would afford. In other words, who better to minister to the dying than one who is dying herself?
I know that suffering is a powerful tool for personal sanctification, but I am coming to see that is also a weapon to be wielded on behalf of the Kingdom. We are called to love broken souls -- those who are mourning, those who are wounded, those who are enduring the deepest and most terrifying pains. When I too have faced those deeps and endured only through the strength of Christ, I am a more capable, loving, patient, merciful and expectant minister. Our suffering allows us to speak into the lives of those who are suffering too.
As I pulled up to work this morning, I noticed two things: (1) my manager hadn't arrived yet, so I couldn't get in and (2) one of the cleaning ladies was waiting by the door. I wanted to just sit in my car ... I was too tired to conjure up small talk. But I felt a familiar leading, and I reluctantly got out of my car. I sat next to her -- we never exchanged names, and we existed in an awkward silence with a few comments about the weather and such. She asked me if I've always lived in Georgia, and our conversation gained momentum from there. In just a few minutes of sitting with this woman, I found out that her sister had been murdered in Baltimore while resisting rape, and that she had moved to the south to escape that painful memory. She used to work at Wal-Mart, but had to quit her job when a several ton object fell on her son at work, shattering his pelvis and rendering him helpless while recovering. She didn't make much eye contact with me ... but I did see her eyes fill with tears as she explained his frustration with his new-found handicap. She is hurting ... deeply. Her son is hurting ... deeply.
My headaches are a minuscule affliction when compared to hurts such as those. But it is precisely the work of God in the midst of my pain that gives me a place to start with those who are hurting. So I prayed a dangerous prayer at church this morning while the room filled with exclamations of His holiness ... I prayed that God would increase my pain and brokenness if it will increase His kingdom. I am not a spotless offering ... my sins and pains have blemished and maimed me. And, with all honesty, my heart longs desperately for the day of my perfection, when I am given hind's feet to run on the high places with Him. But the blameless sacrifice has already been given, and my broken and contrite heart will not be despised. And I trust it will be used.
I dreamt that I had been diagnosed with brain cancer and given 4 weeks to live. Don't worry -- I am not a hypochondriac nor have I given in to a sick fatalism. This is a concept I have entertained once or twice before, though -- years of headaches affords one the time to chase diagnostic rabbit trails. And I have already decided exactly what I would do in just such a scenario -- (1) I would marry Josh immediately if I hadn't already, and (2) I would jump on an airplane and head for Calcutta. There is a place in my heart that has always longed for India, and I have always esteemed Mother Teresa's work among the poor. Facing death myself, I can't imagine a more beautiful place to be than ministering in her home for the dying. To hold someone closely, to let your tears run together, to mourn the loss of this world while looking with expectation to the next ... I would want to bring hope to those who need Jesus so deeply.
In this dream, I had already gone to India, and when I came back to Atlanta, the leadership at 12Stone gave me the opportunity teach that Sunday morning. This especially was a hallucination, because interns will always look from afar at the mainstage platform (which is just fine with me). But it is perhaps a notion worth entertaining -- you are on the brink of life eternal, and you are given a platform to share whatever wisdom God has given you. What would you share?
In my dream, I taught on making your life an offering. A familiar topic perhaps, but with my physical body failing, being lain on a metaphorical alter, it was poignant. Or perhaps it was just awesome because it was MY dream :)
I have spent some time today meditating on what it means for my life to be an offering, and (interestingly enough), my dream sermon ministered to my conscious heart. The reason I think my deathbed ministry in India would be so powerful is because of the coexistence my pain would afford. In other words, who better to minister to the dying than one who is dying herself?
I know that suffering is a powerful tool for personal sanctification, but I am coming to see that is also a weapon to be wielded on behalf of the Kingdom. We are called to love broken souls -- those who are mourning, those who are wounded, those who are enduring the deepest and most terrifying pains. When I too have faced those deeps and endured only through the strength of Christ, I am a more capable, loving, patient, merciful and expectant minister. Our suffering allows us to speak into the lives of those who are suffering too.
As I pulled up to work this morning, I noticed two things: (1) my manager hadn't arrived yet, so I couldn't get in and (2) one of the cleaning ladies was waiting by the door. I wanted to just sit in my car ... I was too tired to conjure up small talk. But I felt a familiar leading, and I reluctantly got out of my car. I sat next to her -- we never exchanged names, and we existed in an awkward silence with a few comments about the weather and such. She asked me if I've always lived in Georgia, and our conversation gained momentum from there. In just a few minutes of sitting with this woman, I found out that her sister had been murdered in Baltimore while resisting rape, and that she had moved to the south to escape that painful memory. She used to work at Wal-Mart, but had to quit her job when a several ton object fell on her son at work, shattering his pelvis and rendering him helpless while recovering. She didn't make much eye contact with me ... but I did see her eyes fill with tears as she explained his frustration with his new-found handicap. She is hurting ... deeply. Her son is hurting ... deeply.
My headaches are a minuscule affliction when compared to hurts such as those. But it is precisely the work of God in the midst of my pain that gives me a place to start with those who are hurting. So I prayed a dangerous prayer at church this morning while the room filled with exclamations of His holiness ... I prayed that God would increase my pain and brokenness if it will increase His kingdom. I am not a spotless offering ... my sins and pains have blemished and maimed me. And, with all honesty, my heart longs desperately for the day of my perfection, when I am given hind's feet to run on the high places with Him. But the blameless sacrifice has already been given, and my broken and contrite heart will not be despised. And I trust it will be used.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Joanna Newsom
If you haven't heard her music, brace yourself. Joanna Newsom is a harpist, pianist and singer/songwriter who happens to be both incredibly musically gifted and hard to listen to.
I was introduced to her by Josh, who seems to have been put under a spell by her musicianship. He encourages me to listen to the entirety of a song before I dismiss it -- which is a nicer way of saying I have no choice but to do so -- and her music was no exception. I am not even sure which song he had recorded on his fancy music-player-thingy, but it was ridiculously long. Her voice is almost abrasive, though she describes it as extremely "charactered." But, because I care about Josh and he cares about her music, I listened to not only that song, but several others in the past weeks. And I have decided that I like her. I do NOT like her voice, but everything else about her is enchanting.
I think it was watching her play that turned the tides for me ... I LOVE to watch people doing things that they love. You can see the depth of her passion exploding in her fingertips as they hit the harpstrings, and the way she contorts her face is revealing of deep concentration and concern. Her lyrics are magical and literary at the same time -- that may be the thing I like the most. Wait, no ... my favorite thing about her is that she is a self-proclaimed social weirdo (even though she is crazy gorgeous).
So now for the real reason I am writing this post. I was reading an interview with her, and I felt that there was a perfect word to describe her (insofar as I know her), but I just couldn't find it. It was driving me crazy. And then I woke up at 2:30 am this morning and knew just what it was. Incandescent. It means, "glowing or white with heat; intensely bright; brilliant; masterly; extraordinarily lucid; aglow with ardor, purpose, etc." Yup. And after awakening with the perfect word, I had to share it with someone, which turned out to be you, dear faceless blog reader.
So check her out. And give her a chance. But don't condone her crazy voice :)
I was introduced to her by Josh, who seems to have been put under a spell by her musicianship. He encourages me to listen to the entirety of a song before I dismiss it -- which is a nicer way of saying I have no choice but to do so -- and her music was no exception. I am not even sure which song he had recorded on his fancy music-player-thingy, but it was ridiculously long. Her voice is almost abrasive, though she describes it as extremely "charactered." But, because I care about Josh and he cares about her music, I listened to not only that song, but several others in the past weeks. And I have decided that I like her. I do NOT like her voice, but everything else about her is enchanting.
I think it was watching her play that turned the tides for me ... I LOVE to watch people doing things that they love. You can see the depth of her passion exploding in her fingertips as they hit the harpstrings, and the way she contorts her face is revealing of deep concentration and concern. Her lyrics are magical and literary at the same time -- that may be the thing I like the most. Wait, no ... my favorite thing about her is that she is a self-proclaimed social weirdo (even though she is crazy gorgeous).
So now for the real reason I am writing this post. I was reading an interview with her, and I felt that there was a perfect word to describe her (insofar as I know her), but I just couldn't find it. It was driving me crazy. And then I woke up at 2:30 am this morning and knew just what it was. Incandescent. It means, "glowing or white with heat; intensely bright; brilliant; masterly; extraordinarily lucid; aglow with ardor, purpose, etc." Yup. And after awakening with the perfect word, I had to share it with someone, which turned out to be you, dear faceless blog reader.
So check her out. And give her a chance. But don't condone her crazy voice :)
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
A Note for Someone Else
I ended up in a little used bookstore on Monday night (thanks to my sweet man), and it was wonderful. It even smelled wonderful. If you don't know what I mean, then I will never be able to explain it to you. The place seems to be frequented by indie twenty-somethings who either love old, interesting books or think that the tired, tattered pages complement their disheveled style. But no matter the attire of the patrons ... because I had a splendid time perusing the eclectic selection of old and new titles. Because I work in a bookstore that sells only pristine books, it was easy to pass over the recent releases (if I am going to give in, I will at least wait until I can use my discount). Instead, I was drawn to books with yellowed pages, books acquainted with teaching their readers, books that seem to have mustered a wisdom of their own through the years.
And so I ended up in the section with all the modern library books. These editions were sold at "a price within everyone's reach," as the back boasts, in order to bring literature into everyone's library. It was so fun to open the covers of these books and see the prices set at just over $1. There were two of these titles that left the store with me (legally, of course): “Vanity Fair” and “The Consolation of Philosophy”. I chose “Vanity Fair” merely because I have always wanted to read it, especially after reading “Pilgrim’s Progress”. I first picked up “The Consolation of Philosophy” because I saw the name “À Kempis” on the spine, and immediately knew that it housed one of my favorite texts, “The Imitation of Christ.” But the reason that I was decided in leaving with this book was not merely for the classical material in it’s pages, but also for an enchanting little note that was written inside. It reads:
Dear Judy,
Just think – no more chaos! May you have smooth sailing from here on – except when I’m around to wreck havoc!
Love, Janice
This Janice sounds like a wonderful friend – thoughtful, spunky and quick to buy a friend a book in her time of need! I haven’t read the other two texts in the volume (“The Consolation of Philosphy” by Boethius or “Religio Medici” by Thomas Browne), but this note seemed a bit puzzling in light of what I have read. I read “The Imitation of Christ,” for my exit interview – along with 35 other books – so I will be the first to admit that I may not remember it extremely well. But the book is very much about holiness, discipline and the emulation of Christ – not something typically given to someone trying to weather a storm. If I am fighting to keep afloat, the last thing I want is more to manage. But as I reflected on this sweet little note, the more it seems a perfect choice. À Kempis is urging the reader to usher the heart of Christ deeply into her own heart, so that they beat as one. When one is fighting to exemplify the heart and actions of Christ, it seems a wonderful invitation for not only for His holiness, but for all of His character. In seeking His righteousness, one will surely encounter his love. In seeking His discipline, one will surely encounter his mercy. In seeking His perfection, one will surely encounter His grace. Thank you Jesus, for offering the whole of yourself to your children – you are good beyond my wildest dreams. And thank you Janice for encouraging your dear friend decades ago, and for encouraging me today.
[[Completely Random Side note: Hegel has some beautiful things to say about marriage. And what makes it even better is that he wasn't trying to be flowery. He was trying to articulate the ethics and realities of marriage, and those realities just so happen to be beautiful. Check it out. It's in "Philosophy of Right."]]
And so I ended up in the section with all the modern library books. These editions were sold at "a price within everyone's reach," as the back boasts, in order to bring literature into everyone's library. It was so fun to open the covers of these books and see the prices set at just over $1. There were two of these titles that left the store with me (legally, of course): “Vanity Fair” and “The Consolation of Philosophy”. I chose “Vanity Fair” merely because I have always wanted to read it, especially after reading “Pilgrim’s Progress”. I first picked up “The Consolation of Philosophy” because I saw the name “À Kempis” on the spine, and immediately knew that it housed one of my favorite texts, “The Imitation of Christ.” But the reason that I was decided in leaving with this book was not merely for the classical material in it’s pages, but also for an enchanting little note that was written inside. It reads:
Dear Judy,
Just think – no more chaos! May you have smooth sailing from here on – except when I’m around to wreck havoc!
Love, Janice
This Janice sounds like a wonderful friend – thoughtful, spunky and quick to buy a friend a book in her time of need! I haven’t read the other two texts in the volume (“The Consolation of Philosphy” by Boethius or “Religio Medici” by Thomas Browne), but this note seemed a bit puzzling in light of what I have read. I read “The Imitation of Christ,” for my exit interview – along with 35 other books – so I will be the first to admit that I may not remember it extremely well. But the book is very much about holiness, discipline and the emulation of Christ – not something typically given to someone trying to weather a storm. If I am fighting to keep afloat, the last thing I want is more to manage. But as I reflected on this sweet little note, the more it seems a perfect choice. À Kempis is urging the reader to usher the heart of Christ deeply into her own heart, so that they beat as one. When one is fighting to exemplify the heart and actions of Christ, it seems a wonderful invitation for not only for His holiness, but for all of His character. In seeking His righteousness, one will surely encounter his love. In seeking His discipline, one will surely encounter his mercy. In seeking His perfection, one will surely encounter His grace. Thank you Jesus, for offering the whole of yourself to your children – you are good beyond my wildest dreams. And thank you Janice for encouraging your dear friend decades ago, and for encouraging me today.
[[Completely Random Side note: Hegel has some beautiful things to say about marriage. And what makes it even better is that he wasn't trying to be flowery. He was trying to articulate the ethics and realities of marriage, and those realities just so happen to be beautiful. Check it out. It's in "Philosophy of Right."]]
Monday, April 12, 2010
Recent Goings-On
It's been quite a while since I last blogged ... so for all y'all who live to read my blog, fret no longer.
Here are some recent happenings in my life:
1. I cut off my hair ... or at least most of it. It is super short and perhaps that most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me.
2. I went to Philly for a week. As usual, God used that crazy city to both stir and set things in my heart. I fell in love with student ministry again as I watched 9th and 10th graders step up in leadership, boldly love the broken and respond in worship. I needed some real clarification from the Lord on where my heart is in ministry, and I know that I am drawn to the passion of high school students -- it was good. And I got to see Elizabeth, which was a wonderful treat. I never cease to learn from her ... her words, her demeanor, and her presence are all testaments to the joy, humility and grace of Christ.
3. I started reading "So Long, Insecurity" by Beth Moore. If you are a woman, stop reading my blog and go get this book. I have always been hesitant with Beth Moore, because she traipses all over my feminist agendas. As an 'enlightened woman,' I have always held an inner scorn for her big hair, thick accent, and cheesy love for women. But this book is the jam. Read it. Beth Moore, I'm sorry I was a hater.
4. I discovered the DeKalb farmers market. It is my newest love.
That is all for now.
Love you guys ... I will try to blog more often.
Here are some recent happenings in my life:
1. I cut off my hair ... or at least most of it. It is super short and perhaps that most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me.
2. I went to Philly for a week. As usual, God used that crazy city to both stir and set things in my heart. I fell in love with student ministry again as I watched 9th and 10th graders step up in leadership, boldly love the broken and respond in worship. I needed some real clarification from the Lord on where my heart is in ministry, and I know that I am drawn to the passion of high school students -- it was good. And I got to see Elizabeth, which was a wonderful treat. I never cease to learn from her ... her words, her demeanor, and her presence are all testaments to the joy, humility and grace of Christ.
3. I started reading "So Long, Insecurity" by Beth Moore. If you are a woman, stop reading my blog and go get this book. I have always been hesitant with Beth Moore, because she traipses all over my feminist agendas. As an 'enlightened woman,' I have always held an inner scorn for her big hair, thick accent, and cheesy love for women. But this book is the jam. Read it. Beth Moore, I'm sorry I was a hater.
4. I discovered the DeKalb farmers market. It is my newest love.
That is all for now.
Love you guys ... I will try to blog more often.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Vacillate
1. to waver in mind or opinion; be indecisive or irresolute.
2. to sway unsteadily; waver; totter; stagger.
3. to oscillate or fluctuate.
I start my blog post with a definition because I am re-training my mind to think about words not as clay to be molded or tools to be employed, but rather as representatives of definitions. I signed up to take the GRE this summer, so am easing myself into the study process. I know, it is still like 4 months away, but my life is so busy that if I don't start now I will surely be unprepared. Even as I write this post, there is a little pile of flash cards calling for my attention.
But the reason I chose that particular word to define is because I feel my name should be definition #4. I "sway unsteadily" between the exciting reveries of my heart and my desire for a slow, lazy life. My wonderful boyfriend gave me a beautiful book for Valentine's day called "Slow: Life in Tuscan Town," and it makes me long for simplicity and an easy pace. Part of me wants to just work a normal day job, read myriads of fun flippant books, take lots of leisurely walks and sleep more than anyone should. I want to stop thinking big thoughts and reading big books and chasing big dreams. I want to just eat mangos and wipe my face on my shirt and lay in the grass and play with cooking vegan food and try my hand at all kinds of art and do nothing in particular.
But then I remember one big problem ... that is not really what I want.
I am not sure what I am going to end up doing with my life, but I know myself well enough to acknowledge that I don't find contentment in normalcy. In fact, the parts of my life (big and small) that comprise my deviance from the status quo are the places where I find most of my fulfillment and joy. I know that the Lord has seated something large in me, though I am not sure what it is. I want to seek Him and I want to lead and I want to learn (all day every day) and I want to change the world and I want to see chains broken and I want to write and I want to teach and I want pursue my purpose as intentionally as my Savior pursued His purpose.
Every time I want to be lazy and shake of my responsibilities, I find myself reawakened to the things that really bring life to me.
Example: On Sunday, I had absolutely no desire to go to our Compassion Leadership Team meeting. I was tired and I wanted to go to bed. But then I got to spend time with these wonderful students, and I watched their hearts burn with the splendor of God. They are still learning, and walking with them isn't easy, but it makes me feel alive to watch them being imbued with the heart of God
I had a long conversation with one of my co-workers at Barnes and Noble about how we both have dreams that we sometimes leave unrealized. She majored in journalism and French with the intention of being a travel writer, but decided it was too much work to break into a field with internships and jobs at small local papers. She is a phenomenal person ... she is kind, diligent in work at B&N, and has an easy smile that makes everyone comfortable. But her life is kind of a plateau ... she works, reads, watches TV, sleeps, spends times with friends ... over and over. And that conversation made me realize again that good things in life come with suffering and sorrow (something Jesus modeled well), but that the return is glorious.
So I am working to squelch my desire for futility and to become resolute in my pursuit of the Lord and his peaceful (but not easy) plans for my life.
PS -- I am sorry my blog is so introspective. It almost feels indulgent to write the way that I do about my life. But nobody is forcing you to read it :)
I start my blog post with a definition because I am re-training my mind to think about words not as clay to be molded or tools to be employed, but rather as representatives of definitions. I signed up to take the GRE this summer, so am easing myself into the study process. I know, it is still like 4 months away, but my life is so busy that if I don't start now I will surely be unprepared. Even as I write this post, there is a little pile of flash cards calling for my attention.
But the reason I chose that particular word to define is because I feel my name should be definition #4. I "sway unsteadily" between the exciting reveries of my heart and my desire for a slow, lazy life. My wonderful boyfriend gave me a beautiful book for Valentine's day called "Slow: Life in Tuscan Town," and it makes me long for simplicity and an easy pace. Part of me wants to just work a normal day job, read myriads of fun flippant books, take lots of leisurely walks and sleep more than anyone should. I want to stop thinking big thoughts and reading big books and chasing big dreams. I want to just eat mangos and wipe my face on my shirt and lay in the grass and play with cooking vegan food and try my hand at all kinds of art and do nothing in particular.
But then I remember one big problem ... that is not really what I want.
I am not sure what I am going to end up doing with my life, but I know myself well enough to acknowledge that I don't find contentment in normalcy. In fact, the parts of my life (big and small) that comprise my deviance from the status quo are the places where I find most of my fulfillment and joy. I know that the Lord has seated something large in me, though I am not sure what it is. I want to seek Him and I want to lead and I want to learn (all day every day) and I want to change the world and I want to see chains broken and I want to write and I want to teach and I want pursue my purpose as intentionally as my Savior pursued His purpose.
Every time I want to be lazy and shake of my responsibilities, I find myself reawakened to the things that really bring life to me.
Example: On Sunday, I had absolutely no desire to go to our Compassion Leadership Team meeting. I was tired and I wanted to go to bed. But then I got to spend time with these wonderful students, and I watched their hearts burn with the splendor of God. They are still learning, and walking with them isn't easy, but it makes me feel alive to watch them being imbued with the heart of God
I had a long conversation with one of my co-workers at Barnes and Noble about how we both have dreams that we sometimes leave unrealized. She majored in journalism and French with the intention of being a travel writer, but decided it was too much work to break into a field with internships and jobs at small local papers. She is a phenomenal person ... she is kind, diligent in work at B&N, and has an easy smile that makes everyone comfortable. But her life is kind of a plateau ... she works, reads, watches TV, sleeps, spends times with friends ... over and over. And that conversation made me realize again that good things in life come with suffering and sorrow (something Jesus modeled well), but that the return is glorious.
So I am working to squelch my desire for futility and to become resolute in my pursuit of the Lord and his peaceful (but not easy) plans for my life.
PS -- I am sorry my blog is so introspective. It almost feels indulgent to write the way that I do about my life. But nobody is forcing you to read it :)
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Oh, B&N
I learn a lot from the customers that come into Barnes and Noble.
Sometimes customers choose to educate me on the latest sci-fi novel that I MUST read, or the details of their favorite romance novel or they kindly let me know that Marge Simpson was featured in Playboy (ummm, yeah ... I am not even going to address that here). These enlightening moments are the ones that I try to avoid.
Other customers teach me things like patience, or kindness or (at the very least) self-control -- I am talking about the needy customers who want help finding 5 obscure books, or the rude customers who effectively treat me as their retail slave, or the packs of teenagers that stand in the sex section and giggle for an hour. I couldn't avoid these customers even if I wanted to -- they find me.
But, in all fairness, most customers don't fit into the aforementioned categories. They are just good people who are quick to engage in conversation about the books they have come to find. And I love it.
For example, I learned a lot about lyme disease from a woman the other day. We spent a good amount of time at the computer trying to find a book on the disease, so I casually mentioned that I know nothing about it. That was one of the many blessing of growing up in the great state of Colorado ... I didn't even know what ticks were until fairly recently. So she started telling me about the disease and its symptoms, the way it is typically transmitted, etc. What was most surprising to me was the debate in the medical community about the validity of chronic lyme disease. I forget that there is so much subjectivity in medicine ... it seems a lot of suffering is ignored in the middle of the debate. This woman was talking about her husband. She was telling me that he has had all the classic symptoms for 5 years, but that many doctors dismiss the notion that lyme disease is present. She didn't say anything especially heart-wrenching, but she has clearly borne his burden. It makes me want to be a lyme disease advocate. Something that I would never have cared about except for the generous conversation of a customer.
And then, tonight, I learned about this philosopher named Edmund Gettier. A guy in his early twenties (whose fashion sense screamed, 'I am so Enlightened!') came to find a book on this philosopher and was dismayed to find that no such book exists. So I asked him who Gettier is, and he told me that in one 3-page paper, Gettier demolished one of the most basic philosophic tenants. Since Plato, knowledge has been generally defined as 'justified true belief.' And, in three pages, this guy moves to shut down a legacy of thought. In three pages, he moved a whole discipline to reconsider it's understanding of knowledge. Crazy. So I learned three things from this customer: (1) the name and significance of an important 20th century thinker, (2) that words are immensely powerful ... probably more so than we will ever understand, (3) that I don't know much at all. {{ ** Side note: this customer looked about as directionless as anyone I've met ... I saw a latent intellectual hopelessness in him. Jesus, meet this man and show him what knowledge is and from Whom it comes. }}
People are treasure-troves of wonderful stories, thoughts, information, interests, passions -- the moments where I chose to operate out of this truth are the best moments at work for me.
Sometimes customers choose to educate me on the latest sci-fi novel that I MUST read, or the details of their favorite romance novel or they kindly let me know that Marge Simpson was featured in Playboy (ummm, yeah ... I am not even going to address that here). These enlightening moments are the ones that I try to avoid.
Other customers teach me things like patience, or kindness or (at the very least) self-control -- I am talking about the needy customers who want help finding 5 obscure books, or the rude customers who effectively treat me as their retail slave, or the packs of teenagers that stand in the sex section and giggle for an hour. I couldn't avoid these customers even if I wanted to -- they find me.
But, in all fairness, most customers don't fit into the aforementioned categories. They are just good people who are quick to engage in conversation about the books they have come to find. And I love it.
For example, I learned a lot about lyme disease from a woman the other day. We spent a good amount of time at the computer trying to find a book on the disease, so I casually mentioned that I know nothing about it. That was one of the many blessing of growing up in the great state of Colorado ... I didn't even know what ticks were until fairly recently. So she started telling me about the disease and its symptoms, the way it is typically transmitted, etc. What was most surprising to me was the debate in the medical community about the validity of chronic lyme disease. I forget that there is so much subjectivity in medicine ... it seems a lot of suffering is ignored in the middle of the debate. This woman was talking about her husband. She was telling me that he has had all the classic symptoms for 5 years, but that many doctors dismiss the notion that lyme disease is present. She didn't say anything especially heart-wrenching, but she has clearly borne his burden. It makes me want to be a lyme disease advocate. Something that I would never have cared about except for the generous conversation of a customer.
And then, tonight, I learned about this philosopher named Edmund Gettier. A guy in his early twenties (whose fashion sense screamed, 'I am so Enlightened!') came to find a book on this philosopher and was dismayed to find that no such book exists. So I asked him who Gettier is, and he told me that in one 3-page paper, Gettier demolished one of the most basic philosophic tenants. Since Plato, knowledge has been generally defined as 'justified true belief.' And, in three pages, this guy moves to shut down a legacy of thought. In three pages, he moved a whole discipline to reconsider it's understanding of knowledge. Crazy. So I learned three things from this customer: (1) the name and significance of an important 20th century thinker, (2) that words are immensely powerful ... probably more so than we will ever understand, (3) that I don't know much at all. {{ ** Side note: this customer looked about as directionless as anyone I've met ... I saw a latent intellectual hopelessness in him. Jesus, meet this man and show him what knowledge is and from Whom it comes. }}
People are treasure-troves of wonderful stories, thoughts, information, interests, passions -- the moments where I chose to operate out of this truth are the best moments at work for me.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Pseudonym
So I created a pseudonym for myself tonight ... call me a dork, call me strange, but I am pretty pumped about it. You may very well be asking, "For what reason would you need a pseudonym, Emily?"
Well, for my latest thought project. And I don't think I want this project connected to me in case it sucks :)
This will most certainly sound foolish, but creating an alter-ego of sorts is a fun drive-home-from-work task.
Try it ... and thank me later.
Well, for my latest thought project. And I don't think I want this project connected to me in case it sucks :)
This will most certainly sound foolish, but creating an alter-ego of sorts is a fun drive-home-from-work task.
Try it ... and thank me later.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Field Trip
Yesterday afternoon we took the Compassion Leadership Team down to Atlanta to visit the King Center -- we were learning about the word reconciliation, so the goal was to familiarize students with Martin Luther King Jr.'s work for racial reconciliation as a door for better understanding interpersonal and spiritual reconciliation.
I am interested to hear feedback from the students who went ... it ended up being logistically interesting because it was a four-hour adventure (almost two of which were spent driving and/or getting students gathered) and we spent an hour in conversation over lunch and only an hour at the actual King center. I was a little disappointed in the students' lack of preparation - I think everything is more meaningful when you are aware of the context.
But, if nothing else, it was incredibly meaningful for me. I wish that I had been alive in the early sixties so that I could have been a part of such a wonderful movement for justice and reconciliation! I will NEVER stop being inspired by King's intentional, powerful and creative oration. And this trip made me all the more aware of his powerful leadership. One of the men who worked closely with him described King as a "leader of leaders." I think that phrase will ring in my mind for some time ... I would like for people to be able to see that in me someday.
And I was struck afresh with the intentionality of his work ... he went to India for several months to study Gandhi's nonviolent techniques so that he could employ them well. His heart beat for the movement, and so he fought to lead it well.
Perhaps my favorite King story that was refreshed in my heart yesterday is the story of him awake late at night in his kitchen ... after another threat on his life, he made a pot of coffee and began to ponder how he could back out the movement without appearing a coward. He had expended the whole of his abilities, and sat with nothing left to offer. In the middle of his helplessness, he heard the Lord say to him, "Stand up for justice, stand up for truth; and God will be at your side forever." He said his fears disappeared and he was instantly imbued with the courage to face anything. It is a personal treasure to know that great men and women were only great in the power of Christ ... it makes me feel like the Lord could actually use me.
After we got back from Atlanta, I got to spend a couple of minutes drying off before Engage started up for the spring. We were studying Acts 7, where Stephen stands before the Sanhedrin, defending the gospel. In his monologue, he point to the many times in history when Israel has killed its prophets, culminating with the crucifixion of Christ. And then he was brutally murdered. Somehow, in the midst of being stoned, he has a vision in which he looks up and sees the heavens open with Jesus standing at the right hand of God. I couldn't help but think of MLK Jr.'s last speech, in which speaks with glorious cadence that sounds almost like a song,
I am interested to hear feedback from the students who went ... it ended up being logistically interesting because it was a four-hour adventure (almost two of which were spent driving and/or getting students gathered) and we spent an hour in conversation over lunch and only an hour at the actual King center. I was a little disappointed in the students' lack of preparation - I think everything is more meaningful when you are aware of the context.
But, if nothing else, it was incredibly meaningful for me. I wish that I had been alive in the early sixties so that I could have been a part of such a wonderful movement for justice and reconciliation! I will NEVER stop being inspired by King's intentional, powerful and creative oration. And this trip made me all the more aware of his powerful leadership. One of the men who worked closely with him described King as a "leader of leaders." I think that phrase will ring in my mind for some time ... I would like for people to be able to see that in me someday.
And I was struck afresh with the intentionality of his work ... he went to India for several months to study Gandhi's nonviolent techniques so that he could employ them well. His heart beat for the movement, and so he fought to lead it well.
Perhaps my favorite King story that was refreshed in my heart yesterday is the story of him awake late at night in his kitchen ... after another threat on his life, he made a pot of coffee and began to ponder how he could back out the movement without appearing a coward. He had expended the whole of his abilities, and sat with nothing left to offer. In the middle of his helplessness, he heard the Lord say to him, "Stand up for justice, stand up for truth; and God will be at your side forever." He said his fears disappeared and he was instantly imbued with the courage to face anything. It is a personal treasure to know that great men and women were only great in the power of Christ ... it makes me feel like the Lord could actually use me.
After we got back from Atlanta, I got to spend a couple of minutes drying off before Engage started up for the spring. We were studying Acts 7, where Stephen stands before the Sanhedrin, defending the gospel. In his monologue, he point to the many times in history when Israel has killed its prophets, culminating with the crucifixion of Christ. And then he was brutally murdered. Somehow, in the midst of being stoned, he has a vision in which he looks up and sees the heavens open with Jesus standing at the right hand of God. I couldn't help but think of MLK Jr.'s last speech, in which speaks with glorious cadence that sounds almost like a song,
"Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it really doesn't matter with me now, because I've been to the mountaintop. And I don't mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life — longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over, and I've seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. So I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything, I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord."
It is so sweet -- literally, it is like honey to my heart -- that the Lord gives such valiant courage to those facing death on his behalf. Both Stephen and MLK Jr. trampled fear as they proclaimed truth in their contexts. I want to be like that!
It is becoming ever-clearer to me that fighting for the Kingdom comes with great personal hardship ... as Gandhi said, "rivers of blood may have to flow before we gain our freedom, but it must be our blood." Lord, shed my blood if necessary ... break my spirit if necessary ... expend my whole if necessary ... just use me!
It is becoming ever-clearer to me that fighting for the Kingdom comes with great personal hardship ... as Gandhi said, "rivers of blood may have to flow before we gain our freedom, but it must be our blood." Lord, shed my blood if necessary ... break my spirit if necessary ... expend my whole if necessary ... just use me!
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