when i woke...

this past week, my husband has been out of town, and so i've been much more sensitive to sounds during the night. this morning i woke a little after 5:30 to a very strange sound. at first, being somewhat in a sleep state, i wasn't sure what it was. and then after a few consecutive times hearing it, i realized, that's a rooster crowing!

the other day when i went out to get the mail, off to the side of the front porch, i saw a rooster and a hen! it was very strange, seeing as we don't have roosters or hens, or any other foul being raised around our house, but none the less i was excited to show my daughter. so we went and looked, and were careful to not be too loud so that they would let us peek at them for a few minutes without flying or running off. well, they obviously did not feel too alarmed since they are still right out by our front porch. i knew that he was close, but started to wonder, where exactly is this rooster? he sounds like he is right outside our window! i turned the front porch light off, in an attempt to see more outside, and then i saw it. he was perched atop our bush, right outside our window, (i mean RIGHT OUTSIDE MY WINDOW) crowing at lights first sign of day, even though it's still pitch black outside! So yes, who needs an alarm clock when you live in the middle of the city, and you have a random rooster living in your bushes!!! here's hoping to more sleep tomorrow!

The Unexpected Gifts Are Often the Best!

We moved our two year old into a "big bed" today. Our baby days with her seem to be fleeting so fast. Sometimes I look down at her and wonder how could I love something so much. As we sat on the bench together in our backyard today, I just realized how precious these moments are. Sure there are tons of the screaming in your ear, and pulling out your hair moments, but then you have a picnic, where a tiny hand resting on your leg is like a million people giving you a standing ovation. My little one is especially independent, and so the sitting together times are few and far between, so I soaked today in.

We had brought our lunch outside to enjoy the sun shining and warm weather. At first we were sitting normal spacing away from each other, on our bench, each with our plates on our laps. But then, she started holding onto my pocket on my jeans with one hand while she held her pretzel with her right hand. Then I noticed that the way she was holding her pretzel and the way I was holding mine was exactly the same, and I thought "How cute are we!?!" I put my arm around her, and gave her a squeeze, knowing that the moment would soon be over. Then, she started to stand up on the bench, and get her muddy sandals all over the bench. I started to ask her what she was doing, but then I saw one of these dirt covered shoes coming right toward me. She lifted her leg over my lap, and plopped right down on me, and leaned in a gave me a huge hug. It was just one of those little unexpected moments of pure joy and gratitude for what you have been given. I thought about how my mom used to say she loved me more than I could ever imagine, and how I wouldn't know that type of love until I had a daughter of my own. Now I know how right she was.

Being Sure of What We Hope For

I love the verse that gives us the definition of faith..."faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see". I mean even in it's definition, it challenges me to have it. How can I believe in what I hope for, or be certain of what I do not see without first having faith. It sometimes blows my mind to even try to wrap my mind around it, because that's just it...You can't. You simply have to trust that this God we know, and this Savior we call Jesus is exactly who He says He is. That He is doing exactly what He says He will.

I think I've always been an optimistic realist. Meaning that, I definitely think "Polyanna-like", but am extremely rational in what I believe. In some ways I'm a dreamer, but in other ways, dreaming is just too risky. So to be challenged to simply have faith without having any proof to base it in, or believe and be sure that what I hope in is real, seems at times risky. Almost foolish to be sure of what I hope for.

My youth pastor in high school had this T-shirt that said, "Jesus Christ...Lunatic, liar, or Lord." Now, catchy as it was, it took me a time or two of seeing it before I really thought about what it meant. But as I came to see how much we are challenged to believe, I realized that it was completely true. We cannot stand by and think that Jesus was anything but completely God in man, the one true Lord, or we are saying that He was either just a loon, or a liar.

I think about Abraham and Sarah, and how they lived without ever seeing the promise of God being fulfilled. Living in a way that they were most likely ridiculed and scoffed at for. Only going on their faith in the words of their God. But through their faith, God did fulfill and is still fulfilling that promise completely.

I was talking with a close friend the other day, and she was talking about how she had been struggling to lose sight of what she was doing in life. Feeling like the way their family had been called to live was being lost. She felt like it seemed so hard to believe that what she was doing was really making an impact on anyone. Thinking that God really wasn't pleased with her decisions and sacrifices, because with her eyes it didn't seem like anything was getting anywhere. That it was all for nothing. She knew that these things weren't true, but in the moment, faith was squeezing through her hands, and she just couldn't grasp it.

I don't think that this thing called "faith" is an easy thing to grasp. I think that it's a choice that we have to ask Christ to live out in us. That on our own, we just can't make it happen. He has to give us the faith that then we can live out for Him. And the more we choose to live it, the more we will see His faithfulness receiving our faith. I want Him to give me the strength to choose to have faith, even on days when I'm not "feeling" much of anything. I desire to live in a way that goes against the mainstream life of trusting in what I see..So that when I am living in this "foolish" way, I truly am living out what He calls faith. These are the times that we will see Him come to meet us in ways that we certainly can't see, but know beyond a shadow of a doubt are only Him.

Did You Hear About My Story?

My older sister and I both had really wanted to see the new Pride and Prejudice in the theatre, but just hadn't been able to yet, for one reason or another. So we were excited when we learned that it was playing at the $2 theatre in Graham. She had seen that it was only running for a week, and so we knew that we had to go. I mean it's coming out on DVD in like a week! We decided on our day and time and looked forward to our date.

So, Wed. comes and we meet at the movie. We were glad to just to be out by ourselves, going to a late-night movie. We noticed all the people coming out of the 7 pm show, and were thinking not many people would be watching it with us at the 9:30. So, that's fine, we think, and go on up to the counter. It's a hometown theater, with some high school kids hanging out, a coach running the theater, etc. So we were waiting up at the counter, wondering why no one was coming to take our $2 for our tickets, but figuring that things were just laid back around there. Finally an older gentleman on the phone comes up, and asked what we needed.

"We're here for the 9:30 showing."

"What 9:30 showing?"

"The one that you advertise for your movies. There's a 7 and 9:30."

"I'm sorry, that's just on the weekends. During the week there's only a 7."

"Oh, man! We drove from Greensboro and Saxapahaw to meet and see the movie. We're sisters... and..." blah, blah, blah "We'll thanks anyway."

As we walked to our cars laughing with disappointment, and at the irony of the whole thing, the man comes out to the car.

"Come on back in. I'll run it for you. Come on, I'm not gonna send you all the way back to Greensboro without a movie."

"REALLY? Are you sure? Isn't it going to keep you up..."

"No, I live upstairs. I'll be here anyway. Get yourselves some popcorn and drinks."

"THANKS!!! Where do we pay?"

"Oh, no, you keep that. Go on get some popcorn. Hey, do you all ever listen to 98.7?"

"Sometimes, yeah."

"Well, Friday mornings, I'm on the radio with Simon about my movie theater. My name on the show is Tim Bob. Maybe I'll talk about y'all on Friday."

"Ok!!!" squealing (see previous post) and laughing with delight.

So, we went on in, and had the theater to ourselves, enjoying popcorn and drinks, and talking during the slower scenes about costumes and characters as loud as we wanted. It was a great little surprise, and a great night. One we'll never forget. And, we became radio famous, too! If you heard on Friday morning about the girls at the theater...that was us!

Gotta love those genes!

Growing up, I always thought it was funny that I could scare my mom and make her squeal really loud. It was embarrassing sometimes, like in the movies if she would be shocked by something, or if at a restaurant I kicked her by accident under the table. Sometimes I could surprise my sister with a tickle, and that same squeal would come out without resistance. And now, without even knowing it's coming, a loud squeal with just resound in my vocal chords. Sometimes I laugh at how natural a reaction it is. I mean, who screams? I mean, I don't hear many people screaming or squealing. Nope, just me and my family. It's one of those traits that you see in your parent, and you think it's funny, but weird, but then without knowing, it gets passed on to you. And then it's your trait! Whenever someone walks in when I'm vacuuming, even if their incoming is announced with a whistle or call, I squeal really loud. Or if I'm walking and I trip by accident, I squeal. Then, yesterday, I was playing dodge ball with a bunch of kids, and of course, I got hit like immediately, and as soon as the ball hit me, a huge squeal came out. I had no idea it was coming. And after it's out, I hear how loud it was, and then I'm all embarrassed. So, yeah, funny cork about me, I squeal!

Becoming You

I think about what it means to be yourself. So much of the time, it seems that becoming who we are is not a simple task to achieve. Throughout the day, I find myself comparing. My mom used to always say, "Comparisons are odious", but they still find their way into my mind. I battle to feel tugged in different directions...My flesh wanting to please the world around me, my spirit knowing that my Father is completely pleased with who I am. But there, again, brings up my question, "What makes me who I am."

I co-teach Sunday School to a large group of 3rd-5th graders, and yesterday, the lesson we were talking about revolved around this same question. "Who are you?" We discussed 2 Cor. 5:17, "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has gone, the new has come." We asked the kids what they thought that meant, and surprisingly heard profound understandings from their simple minds. Even as I "taught" my small group about this truth, I knew that daily, I struggle to hold to the belief that who I am, is in Christ. That's it...that's all I am. And that's enough.

Sometimes it seems so silly to be 28 (and if you're wondering I had to do the math to be sure how old I am) and not know for sure who I am. I go to choose an outfit, and realize that it's hard for me to choose without thinking of who I will be interacting with that day. Or which outfit represents me well. Or, when I try to decorate my house, and I think about different styles I've seen, but sometimes am undecided which style I like the best. Is this one really "me" or is it this one? I like that, but I also really like this. It's not even so much as to please others, but just to know what I really like. I think a lot of it is a desire to represent who I am accurately.

I know that I sound like I'm having an identity crisis, but really I think it's more of a "working out". As I grow, not only in age, but in my relationship with the Lord, I see that I desire to know who this creation is, that is in Him. I know that He is the one who will bring out who I am, in the perfect reflection of Him, in my unique way. It's not so much as having to get it "right" with being me...just being willing to become myself, centered in Him.

Sweet River Roll

Along with being one of my favorite Waterdeep songs, much of my life is spent rolling along after my sweet River Elizabeth, my 2 year old daughter. We have so much fun together, and recently it's been even more fun because of the stage she's in. Yes, ask anyone who knows her, and you'll hear what a handfull she is. Full of energy and purpose, and dedidcated to completing whatever task is at hand. I've been enjoying instilling my favorite pasttimes...watching a movie while having popcorn and hot chocolate, going to Starbucks or Barnes and Nobels, cuddling in a chair with a good book or two, eating dessert in the middle of the day, dancing, singing, and being so silly we laugh until our sides hurt. It's great, and every day it gets better.

The recent phrases have been really cute. Hearing other children phrase things differently, I have wondered how she would phrase different thoughts she has. Like "I want to do that" comes out as, "I do!" "I do!" Or, when she wants a bite of something, "I do hom!" (I want some.) I've been going a little crazy with the same question about 3000 times a day, "Dat, Mama?" For what happened, or what's that? She asks it even after I give her the answer! It's adorable, but in the moment you sometimes want to say, "I JUST TOLD YOU!"

However, I'm amazed at her constant infatuation and wonder of life. She is so able to celebrate life without being inhibited by all of the insecurities that we who have lived a while have developed. She doesn't stop to think "Are they an ok person to say hello to?" before shouting out "HEY!" to someone walking down the street. Nor does she get squirmish when her Daddy and I tell her how incredibly beautiful she is, or how great a job she did at something. Even though she is only 2, she teaches me how to live the way we were meant to, to embrace what God has given to us in this precious thing called life.

Nothing I Can Do?

It's been interesting to see that over the last year living on Florida St. we've had more people in the neighborhood come to know that we're "nice" or "Christians", or at least people who will let them in, or hear their story, or tell them, "No, I'm sorry we can't give you any money, but we can do...." One woman who periodically comes by for prayer, or a ride, or desperate hopes of just a dollar or two, came by the other day. This time was different...almost. She was drunk, soaking wet from the pouring down rain, and was asking us to call Alcohol/Drug Rehab to see if there were any beds available for her. So of course we let her in, and made the call. There were in fact beds available, but we would have to wait until after 2pm to check in. So, she said she was going to pack up some stuff, and I could come pick her up a little before 2 to go. I was sceptical of this actually taking place, but with her desperate desire to be free from an abusive relationship and addictions, I thought..."Maybe she'll go." So, I went by to pick her up at 2, and as I thought might happen, she was not ready to go, and for this reason or that reason, wasn't able to go. So, I told her when she WAS ready, to let me know, and I would definitely take her to ADS. The next day she came by, hoping for something, money, clothes, anything I might be "giving to Salvation Army", I'm sure just anything to use for alcohol or drug money, and I told her, "I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do for you." I wonder, is this true. I know that praying with her, as I've done in the past, is the most I can do, but in this situation, I wonder is there nothing I can do?

A Day in the Life

So this morning I decided to make a special meal for dinner tonight. Randy was coming home from a very long couple of days at work, and I've been excited about making this meal for him. For him, moreso, because it's a Polish meal, that he grew up having. (And, it's a pretty easy one, too, so that's always a plus.) I had told him, "We'll have a good dinner tonight, sweetie!" so he could look forward to it.

So I get all my stuff out to do it, and after fighting vigorously with my can-opener for at least 10 minutes, I get everything in the crockpot, set it on low, and am set to go. The only bad thing about this particular meal from my hubby's heritage, is that the smell is quite potent, and definitely fills the house!

A few hours go by, and I'm thinking, "This is so great, dinner's made, and we'll be all ready to eat when we come home tonight." But then I start realizing, "Wow, the house really doesn't smell all that bad. It's so much better than I remember it being." So, before I leave the house, now at 3:00, I go to check on our dinner. And that's when I realize, that the crock pot isn't that warm. In fact it's still cold... in fact, IT'S NOT EVEN PLUGGED IN! Great, this is just great. So, I check the meat, and thankfully since it was frozen as a rock before, it was still cold. I decide, well, I'll go ahead with it...I'll just cook it on High for 4 hours instead of Low for 8. I plug it IN and head out the door.

OK, so this is the best part. We finally sit down together for dinner after putting our little one in bed, and I'm asking Randy about the meal. "So, is this how you all always had this meal, or did you have different things with it?" He says, "Oh, we actually never had it like this, we usually had it..." "But, babe, I really like it like this, so this is great."

OK, WHAT??? So where in the world did I get this "recipe" from, that in my head is my husband's favorite from his polish roots??? WHO KNOWS!!! It's just another day in the life of my funny little world.

my first...

so, yeah, my first blog...thanks to my cool friends mike and kari! and as of right now, yes, you guessed it, i'll be having my night's coffee and chocolate. untill next time...so long!