From Predictable Cups

It's five til eight and I've been here for twenty. In the dark I came. The dark was surprisingly light. And now solitary piano echos through the empty cubicles surrounding. The dreaded red light was flashing... "no, what could someone want now?" I lucked out... the answer machine required no new tasks of me.

The normal routine emerged... fill the cup, insert tea bag, nuke for one minute and fifteen seconds, apply sugar, stir with two coffee stirr sticks. Only today breakfast came from a noodle cup (yes, Robin, I ate it early today).

I don't mean to sound ridiculously pessimistic, but isn't it funny how four years of college is exchanged for a five by five cubicle and we consider it a good trade? Oh, but if you go for at least two more years and get your masters... then, oh by golly, then you may get a five by five and a half office space... nevermind the extra accrued debt.

But if you love what you do...?

But I just think the mere lifestyles of "office dwellers" entertains me. Same cube, same routine, same... same... day in and day out. And we call this life.

No wonder we create hobbies.

=)

Between Reports

I just wanted to pop in for a moment between reports here at work. Today's a quiet day in the office because of Friday's Holiday Party for all the foster families. So, everyone's either "sick" today, which appears to be the trend, or just thoroughly dedicated to their county reports due tomorrow.

And it's in this moment that I have gotten the opportunityto hide myself away in the back, nearby my Dad's desk, and type away to my piano music. For this introverted girl, I must say... the back's really nice! Occasionally I'll hear someone off in the distance speaking to someone, but not usually. Such rest and peace is back here where the phones and faxes can't find you and the piano wanders off in melodies.

So, as I am sure you are already aware, it is Christmas time. Snow and ice has found Matt and I with one car-scraper between the two of us and a house broom to confront it's advance. But with that blustering wind that cuts to your thermal or non-thermal wear core, comes the sweet, lingering feeling of Christmas. And at that.. a first Christmas with Matt. It's funny to think that in even a few short years Matt and I will look back upon our "beginnings" of that "Cheddar-sized" puff of a Christmas tree. Oh and then there's our Christmas decorations... (clears through) the one snowman and my old stocking. But nonetheless, a "first Christmas" has bloomed at the little one-bedroom apartment and with it comes the sappy new feeling of "us" and the reality of "poor". It's funny how happiness is not tied to materials, but togetherness. And I couldn't be more thrilled with the dollar-store wrapped gifts beneath our tree. Oh, I am sure others will give our loved ones such more amazing and beautiful gifts, but I still can't wait to see my Dad's (squared) faces when the ideas that Matt and I etched into a list become "theirs".

And it's in the wonderful hum-drum of winter and Christmas that I could look at all that I don't have and get lost in the "I wants", which, sadly to say, happened earlier this season. But, God is openning my eyes and my heart to the beauty in the "we don't have"s. And the memories that Matt and I can look back on and laugh about.

Afterall, a beginnning... is not the final product.

- Merry Christmas, dear friends and family.-

Employment Bonus

How many of you can have a half hour face to face conversation with your Dad about what God is doing during your lunch break?

(raises hand)

Yep! I like my job today!

That was neat!

For Today's Thinker

--An Excerpt From Martin Luther's Spiritual Last Will & Testament. CONFESSION CONCERNING CHRIST'S SUPPER (1528), Part 3 by Martin Luther, 1483-1546. Translation by Rev. Robert E. Smith from the German text in: DR. MARTIN LUTHERS WERKE: KRITISCHE GESAMTAUSGABE.(Weimar: Herman Boehlaus Nachfolger, 1909), pp.499-500.--

"Because I see that the mobs are always growing, the number of errors are always increasing and Satan's rage and ruin have no end, I wish to confess with this work my faith before God and the whole world, point by point. I am doing this, lest certain people cite me or my writings, while I am alive or after I am dead, to support their errors, as those fanatics, the Sacramentarians and the Anabaptists, have begun to do. I will remain in this confession until my death (God help me!), will depart from this world in it, and appear before the Judgment Seat of our Lord Jesus Christ.

So that no one will say after my death, ``If Luther was alive, he would teach and believe this article differently, because he did not think it through sufficiently,'' I state the following, once and for all: I, by God's grace, I have diligently examined these articles in the light of passages throughout the Scriptures. I have worked on them repeatedly and you can be sure that I want to defend them, in the same way that I have just defended the Sacrament of the Altar.

No, I'm not drunk or impulsive. I know what I am saying and understand fully what this will mean for me as I stand before the Lord Jesus Christ on the Last Day. No one should think that I am joking or rambling. I'm serious! By God's grace, I know Satan very well. If Satan can turn God's Word upside down and pervert the Scriptures, what will he do with my words -- or the words of others?"


How interesting to think of this excerpt in light of how people have tried to pervert Luther's words even to this day. I just thought this was quite a thinker. So, I wanted ot share it. =)

Like a Child

Do you remember your childhood fantasy?
“When I grow up I want to be a …”
Elementary schools nationwide obsess over a child’s drive toward a future occupation or life-goal. Journal entry after journal entry is written upon, or in Kindergarten, each journal picture is drawn depicting your childhood fantasies. Some pursue those childhood fantasies. “When I was little I wanted to be a Sunday School Teacher,” Carla told me a few weeks ago as she set out chairs for the Miamisburg “Daniel” Bible Study. And yet others merely laugh at their old dreams and ambitions, tossing them to the dusty path of past memories.

When I was little, I, like every other Kindergarten child, wanted to be a teacher. And then I wanted to be any other number of things from a writer to a world-famous babysitter.

Oh yes, there are dreams that have “matured” through the years… At four, I wanted to be a mother of sixteen children. As I grew older my dreams “matured” and I wanted to be a mother of ten, then eight, then four, then three, then four, then eight, and now six children. [I know, I know… I’m crazy and every other comment that you think I haven’t heard and yet have already heard regarding everyone else’s opinion of how I should run this life of “mine.”]

But there is one dream that grew with me and that I haven’t lost… but still hangs in the future, regardless of whether or not it will ever come near. This dream stirs silly childhood, “I can do anything” thoughts. The “I can excel if I put my mind to it” thoughts that come with chocolate milk mustaches. The “I actually could do this,” thoughts that come with experience.

---Yes, world, I’m a dreamer. ---

I wish I could describe the high I felt standing in my purple dress in front of the Jr. High parents. Or that true high, after giving my life to the Lord, that I felt while praying that God would use me from a 45 degree angled big wooden bed as I awaited my first high school musical entrance chords. Or that feeling of looking into the peering faces as I sat on the stage extension, stacking harmonies with a friend. Or the high of standing, with knocking knees, before my high school youth group and strumming my first few chords of worship. Or the feeling of stepping away from the microphone sophomore year of college and hearing a sea of voices carry the chorus of “How Great is Our God.” I wish I could describe the high of standing in the recording studio, with my favorite person to sing with standing beside me. The tension pulsed through me as we “sang like we always do,” but this time with a different, one-shot-take audience. I wish I could describe the complete assurance of who you were created to be of standing in a dark room, releasing the very pit of who you are with a group of teenagers and a few buzzing chords.

It’s weird how God has taken me from desiring the fame of my name to desiring His Fame. And yet He has used the same tool all these years.

It’s weird, but I really don’t feel that He is finished with that tool yet. In fact, the child within me leaps at the thought of what He could do with a willing pair of hands.


And what He already has done…

Rhyming Whatnots

Kind friends in the land of virtual reading,
I wanted to send word of my continual breathing.
For recently my existence you may have doubted,
But no fear, my friends, I haven't been outed.

For here in the quiet I wait for a task
As deep sighs of boredom here do pass.
For here at work all files have been filed
And sadly indeed all lowly reports compiled.

Minutes birth months, Seconds birth hours,
But still hope lives within me and in me it flowers.
For when alas the hour of five arrives
Out to the streets we'll run like bees to our hives.

Car after car we'll fill the streets in a car ballet
And stop-and-go traffic will begin with no delay.
As this passenger smiles at the time therefore wasted
And wonders if she'll make it despite no time hasted.

But after the days and hours and weeks,
To the church she'll arrive with color in her cheeks.
And there the weekend she'll spend with the youth
Each one joyously grinning sharing each tooth.

Alas, my dear friends, the big and the small,
Indeed, Monica's not dead... no not dead at all.
She is merely enjoying what life brings her way,
The job, the traffic, the ministry and the play.

So to all as the time comes, and indeed comes quite fast,
I wish you the most blessed Thanksgiving blast.
And may you find thanks in each and every way,
For the things God has given you, throughout each boring day.

=)

Flushed Wisdom

I woke up this morning thinking. I know, scary!!! Who knew... Monica thinks?

I wondered what the elderly must think. You know, we young folks have only experienced just a piece of what it is to be an American, but the elderly have seen so much change in their lifetime.

And I just began to think a bit about some of the wisdom that could be hidden in their eyes.

I'm not naive enough to believe that age equals wisdom. But some age does equal wisdom. And I began to wonder when we as a society began not to respect that wisdom.

Now in days the common thought is that the elderly in our communities are too old for ____ and really anything can be filled into the blank. Driving, taking care of themselves, etc. But at what point in society did we make that conclusion. I'm sure it was near the time that we as a society decided that parents are no longer sources of apprenticeship, but aliens who never experienced the struggles that "we kids" go through. And now we call that rebellion "the teenage years". Only that theory is no longer holding to merely teenage years as "pre-teens" have begun to adopt the same level of disrespect. But that's a whole other topic, though tied in some way.

I just was thinking this morning in the quiet of our apartment. I wondered what wisdom lies behind elderly eyes. Wars, they have seen. Hurt. Destruction. Famine. Deprivation. They have survived it all. Yes, some are cynical and have resorted to hating every day of existence. But I wonder what is behind the smiling eyes of the elderly who have experienced all this change in our country, from the introduction of cars to the Internet. What do they think as they look into public schools? What do they think as they view our dealings with Iraq and now the talk of Iran? What do they think as homosexual laws are spoken of? Or what do they think of the growing pornography industry?

Do they miss home? When they look at the amount of children in foster care, do they miss home? Or when they watch our generation devalue their worth and their wisdom, do they just want to go home?

I'm not saying that all the people in our generation hate the elderly. This is not a political or psychological stance that I am ever planning on taking. But when it comes to the elderly, are we really seeing those rightly who have overcome so much in their lives and still cling to the cross? We, on Christ's side of the cross, are we seeking out and respecting their wisdom? Or is the assumption of Alzheimer's our default?

I was just thinking...

I was just wondering...

The Middle Class

Casting Crowns has a new album out and there's this song called, "Caught in the middle" that is my newest ear candy (as Phil Wing says). Casting Crowns has been notorious for sending out a lyrical challenge for the Christian Church to be alive and real. And this song speaks just to that challenge. See, I'm cool with accepting that challenge and the lyrics flow from my life as long as I don't have to act it out when it really hurts.

"Fearless warriors in a picket fence

Reckless abandon caught in common sense

Deep water faith in the shallow end
and we're caught in the middle..."

I thought I'd try it. Who knows what I'd find. Nothing else was working. Marcia answered the phone, "hi, do you need a job?" Today I observed the children because Marcia refused to allow me to make a contract to teach before knowing what I had signed up to do. "The wild ones" were their logo. But when I saw their faces I knew the three year old mentality was just a phase of socialization that these kids were struggling to grasp. I talked with Theresa about the needs and my ideas to help encourage the functioning of that social group. Baby steps, but with some time, consistency, and love those children could really learn to function in their little social world. "You are an answer to our prayers," the honesty rang from my friend's lips. "I can't promise a long period of time," reality spoke from our checkbook. "But even if you're here for a little while..." I left that building I had left so many times before, but this time feeling I truly was supposed to return.

"An interview," my voicemail promised. The two words I have been waiting for three weeks to hear. Yet my heart broke. I looked at the building still before me.
'You are an answer to our prayers.'

I've learned that an interview doesn't promise a job. Oh, how I've learned that. But how can I be at two places? What does Your timing really look like, God? Especially in light of all this.

I found the middle today.

...................now what?.....................now where?...........................

Crickets...and Updates

Hi there, friends. It's been a few days since I've even thought about typing in an entry. But for those of you who are feverishly hungry for the fulfillment that comes with reading my blog... I'm writing for you. Hey, where'd everyone go? (crickets.)

Well, anyway... I'm writing none the less. Not a whole lot has changed recently. I am enjoying the married life. Matt and I are learning more and more of what it means to share everything and function as a unit. That's fun. It's challenging at times, but Matt and I really do work well (surprise, surprise), so it's fun too.

Tonight is an Associational Meeting at our church, so that means Matt and I get to pretend to be competent leaders of the youth group. [J/k... Matt is competent.] But anyway, I get to sing in the mass choir made up of 6 or so churches that will be "entertaining" the evening session of the meeting tonight. And Matt and I get to suffer through the early session as "church representatives". I honestly look forward to it. I know, that officially classifies me as a loser AGAIN. But I am actually excited to spend the evening with a bunch of church leaders from some 10 or so area churches. I don't really know why, but it just makes me feel... involved... and a part of something so much bigger than our little church. Funny how God has excited my heart about a silly little meeting. But none the less... excited I am.

For those of you who haven't heard my complaining recently (I now, that's no one), but yes, it is true, I am still sick. Yes, I've been sick for about 3 weeks and am still sick. It seems to be a constant lifestyle for me lately. But hey... there ya go.
But in light of being sick, I have relearned the value of having two functioning nostrils, pukeless feeling tendencies, and sleep.

I am a part of a Daniel study that the ladies at our church are going through and that is fun. It's neat to be involved in a women's group. And it's neat to get to meet the ladies outside of the typical 5 minutes of "meet and greet" during the service.

So, yeah... that's me for now... sick, enjoying the feel of a small church, and thrilling in the little things that God is allowing me to be a part of. And for the record... while I am still jobless, I am learning daily to appreciate the opportunities God has given me while I've been unemployed. (For example, I've gotten to help out a friend, annoy another friend -love ya, Robin!-, meet with an old youth during "working hours", eat lunch with Matt, and I'll get to go support Matt at his first funeral. ) I am focusing more and more on the value of God's circumstances and opportunities in my life right now. And even in loss of what I thought I needed, I am finding God's blessing. Thanks be to God for teaching me to rely more fully on what He declares to be my needs. I love You, Lord.

This One

I was talking to a good friend as I drove her back to her apartment. We discussed "this generation" and our concerns about it. I brought up the fact that no one seems to get out of the way for the emergency vehicles anymore. Oh we might stop, if the vehicle appears to need to turn in front of us on a four lane road. Or if it's a cop, well they could give us a ticket, so we'll stop. But I have noticed as a few ambulances have passed me in the past week, that no one really moves over anymore. Are we that selfish of a generation?

I got my blood donor card in the mail today (well, a few days ago, but I just now opened it). You'd think I was a hero with the way that the letter and even shiny pamphlet thanked me again and again for my generosity. The printed words emphasized over and over again through flattering words that I had "saved three people's lives" and all this other hero-like puffing up. Oh I know there's always a blood shortage. Run from the needles. Run! - No really, those needles are not small.- But it was wild to watch the desperate plea from the American Red Cross for a few pints of my blood. Are we that selfish of a generation?

I just kind of wondered what this generation will come to. As my friend mentioned this morning we are the "don't discipline them" generation and the "don't give them an F in school or it'll hurt their feelings" generation. And I wonder what will become of us. Oh, I know what the end product will be. But I wonder in the midst of this process what will be the choices and the chaos our generation causes. I find it funny that our generation doesn't want to grow up. Why would we when our childhood was so "protected"? I mean why not be a tween (twenty year old who acts like a teenager). Why stop going to school? We know when we graduate we'll have to grow up, so get another degree, head on to grad school... heck even get your PhD. But once you're done with school... then what? Is it really that college has become another extension of high school? I mean I talk to people all the time about their future families and they stress that they don't want to have too many kids because they won't be able to pay for all of their children's college. Even in my own desire for a big family, the immediate response is "how will you pay for their college". And I think... I WON'T! It's their education, not mine! I had to do it on my own and I learned so much from it. Why deprive them of that chance to grow up?

But even beyond our generation, I wonder what's going to happen to the next generation. The generation our generation produces. You know... the germophobic generation. Haven't you see the commercials? The Lysol mom. Kid sneezes, but the "good" mom is there and ready to wipe off the kid's doorknob to disinfect the house so the child won't die from the norms of life. It's hilarious! And the new Lysol commercial where the mom and kids are running and playing in the completely bleached out household and the voice over speaks of that being the "ideal". Man, I can't imagine how the medical companies are going to prosper in our future. Because if you're not exposed to illness... you have a weak immune system. Seriously dude, I grew up eating stuff off the ground and I haven't died yet!!!

What's happening to this generation and what will be the effects of this one on the next generation? It's wild to think about it.

It really is wild.

Outside... the longing

Have you ever wanted to take flight? See the world? Leave it all behind?

I guess it's the adventurous spirit within me that yearns for such a "who knows where I could go" experience every once in a while. How I'd love to leave this all behind for a little while with no regrets and "see the world". Backpacking... biking... hiking.... camping out in the remotest parts of nowhereville. See the ocean crashing along the great shoreline. Walk through deep forests (with much bug spray) and up high mountainsides. Feel the exhaustion of accomplishment.

And then the reality of laundry, dinner to make, bills to pay, a job to get, and a cat to feed suck the adventure right out of this wanderer.

Oh well, looks like the only adventure I'll be having for now is this cough and headache.

Truthful Reflection

Ever looked in the mirror and saw you were running a fever?

-coughs and tries to use the left nostril to breathe.-

A Fight

Discipline is "my way" leaving the body. Discipline is "I can't" leaving the body. Discipline is rebellion leaving the body.

And true discipline requires a sacrifice. And true discipline may yield pain of some variety.

Yet the rewards for true discipline usually take some patient waiting, but will be far greater than anything you could ever imagine.

Reality

It's a Tuesday night.. I'm at college. ...

nothing but junkmail in my career path.

boo.... hiss.....

-angry eyes-

Announcing...

They're in

and Chris did awesome.

Never Know

Today I woke up with this thought and it followed me to the shower and to the car and to Wright State. This is the first time this thought ever occurred to me.

My children will never know my grandparents.

I got a phone call last night from my Dad. Grandpa is dying. They don't expect him to make it through the week. Dad and Mom are flying out tonight. Matt and I will be going to get their car from the airport and sending them onto the plane with hugs this evening. As one who processes the extent of loss after the fact, I don't expect to cry any time soon. It's not that my grandpa doesn't mean something to me, but it's that focusing on the facts is always my default in coping.

But the thoughts this morning brought up this new realm of reality. My children will never know my grandparents. And Matt may never know them either.

You know, a lot of people are blessed with supportive, loving families. They have big family reunions and the grandchildren get the opportunity to see their cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents and even great grandparents.

I remember my great grandma Ruth briefly. Really once my memory kicked in great grandma Ruth was not doing so well health-wise. But Grandma would take us up to see her quite frequently. Jes and I would play with the few toys that great grandma had as grandma would take care of her mom. Great grandma Ruth didn't say much, as a result of a stroke. But we loved her because grandma loved her and grandma took the time to take care of her. (You know how kids are, they love people and things because important people in their lives love people or things.) One day we stopped visiting great grandma. And that was all I knew. I received a tea cup and saucer in the mail sometime afterward. Great grandma had left it for us. The orange set have traveled with me to UT and WSU and now reside in the China Nook. And the doll that great grandma made for me took on new meaning.

Grandparents are wonderful, especially mine. I could shower you readers with stories of working in the woodshop with Grandpa as he made wood come alive and I will never forget asking him to make me a rubber duck from wood before I left for Ohio. He kept telling me that he could make me a wood duck, but I told him I wanted a rubber duck of wood. (Stupid kid!) Or there's the "Little House on the Prairie" that would welcome us to grandma time. Jes and I would watch... grandma would sometimes nap.

And I wish I could tell you of stories with my Mom's parents, but they were never grandma and grandpa to me. Mom's dad died many years ago and Mom's mom never really enjoyed my family's company. So it's just weird to think that here shortly I will no longer have grandparents. At all.

No one so close to me has died yet and it's quite foreign to think about.




It's becoming more hard to think about as it sits with me...

Absent Blood

do you ever wish you could save someone?
it's not that you want to be their hero.
you just don't want them to have to face what is before them.
their decision is naive and will cause them more pain than they know.
very soon.
you just want to change their mind.
wrestle their pride to the ground.
break their inhibitions.
shatter their stubbornness.

oh if they could see the light they are missing!
if they only knew the beauty in surrender.
the overwhelming, overpowering flood of purpose and love.
surely they would run, hobble, crawl ...

choice is so hard to watch.
i can't imagine how You do it.
and it is through those moments of utter yearning
that i agree with Your life-giving compassion.
do you ever wish you could save someone?

only You can.


-how my heart hurts for you.-

speechless

---

---

-my grandpa in CA-

Today's Employment

It's 12:39pm on a Friday. Here I sit at the very school I have attempted to leave so many times before. This time graduated, which apparently means wearing black heels and dress clothes to the library. The career services interview a past success, despite a four-lane blocking accident delaying me fifteen minutes of my half hour window of "fix this on your resume" and "quickly, here's our computer system" time. The Other Place interview now lost into the world of "I need full-time, not part-time". Waiting on the Montgomery County machine to slowly get itself going. Whispers from rebellious platinum blond fashion queens echo copy machine cries and coughs. This place reeks of carelessness, acting and unemployment. My stomach complains. Laundry waits at the apartment. A hospital visit of a friend's sister looms. Productive, one could call it. Hard-working. Or also just plain lost. This job hunt. But this freight train fails to find fuel. "None Available" burns into my eyes with site after site. But Hope still remains. The trees wave through glass. The wind active again. And with ideas long gone, discovery hangs... yearning... waiting. Alas, these black heels find pavement beyond the library doors. Across the street. Within her past hatred they wait. Until at last they find their home on the wood floor... empty. A morning gone, with red feet and wasted paper it's products. Laundry calls. Visits persist. And then alas... rest.

Thus goes the story of today's employment.

Open Letters:

To the unemployed,
Sucks to be unemployed.
I feel ya.

Hoping to use this "wonderful" education,
me



To my husband,
I love you.
I'll try to geta job here soon.
But refer to the above letter.

Hoping your education doesn't proove as "bountiful",
me

To the zit that just popped on my face,
Nasty.
Resentingly,
me

To Understand the Shame.

But when the Son of Man comes in His glory, and all the angels with Him, then He will sit on His glorious throne. All the nations will be gathered before Him; and He will separate them from one another, as the shepherd separates the sheep from the goats; and He will put the sheep on His right, and the goats on His left.

Then the King will say to those on His right, 'Come you who are blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry, and you gave Me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me something to drink; I was a stranger, and you invited Me in; naked, and you clothed Me; I was sick, and you visited Me; I was in prison, and you came to Me.'

Then the righteous will answer Him, 'Lord, when did we see You hungry, and feed You, or thirsty, and give You something to drink? And when did we see You a stranger, and invite You in, or naked, and clothe You? When did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?'

The King will answer and say to them, 'Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.'

-Matthew 25: 31-40

I think it's hard for the clothed to understand the shame of nakedness or for the free to comprehend the confinements of prison. In this passage, Christ makes the point that serving another brother is serving Him. But how can we serve another if we fail to see their desperation? This point has been made repetitively in the Social Work department. A social worker must empathize with the pains, stigmas, and griefs of a client's life circumstances. But here, Christ goes beyond acknowledging mere bench-warming empathy, but emphasizes again and again the actions of the righteous in meeting a brother's need. It's the actions and serving that recognizes the brother's worth, no matter what their life conditions and trials. Therefore, one does not need to become naked to understand nakedness, but merely value another enough to give them clothing.

But who ever said the clothing was ours to hoard in the first place?


Everything is the Lord's.

-Everything!-

To Maintain Comfort.

It's amazing to me how easily we can live in our heads. If I don't like what you're saying, I retreat to my own thoughts. You can't change those. You can't touch those. We can live in this state of, "you think you know me... but you don't." We can live in this, "I can reason through it. I can fix it."

I've just been thinking about old friends as I clear through more of the clutter that easily classifies me as a "junk keeper". I've just been thinking about some of the conversations we had. And been wondering about where some of them are in their lives right now. Who are their friend's now? What are their new hobbies?

But the real fascination I have as I flip through old chapters of my life is, when the lights go down at the end of the day and it's just them and their thoughts, who are they? I'm just curious. Are they who they want to be? Am I who I want to be?

...


It's so easy to stay in the comfortable. It's so easy to remain outside of conflict, outside of stressors, outside of life. It's so easy to sit behind a computer or a palm pilot and become just another fish in the sea. I'm not trying to imply that being on the computer or on the web or having the finances to be able to afford a palm pilot makes anyone a bad person. I'm just saying that face to face contact and actually going through the daily work of keeping a friendship or a relationship healthy is hard enough for anyone to desire to run away. But it's in those moments of retreat that I wonder who my previous friends have become? Whom have I become?

... I was just thinking today...

In the air and eyes bulging

Have you ever been afraid of something and later discovered it wasn’t that bad?

I was sitting on the couch, towel on head, enjoying “On Fire” by Switchfoot. The shower was good and hot. A stack of books lay on the floor beside my laptop on the coffee table, evidence of a final paper finished Monday. Boots walked by, as usual. Only this time Boots caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye. I still have no idea what he thought he saw, but he took off tearing in the other direction. He poked his head back around the corner, wide eyed and timid. Thinking it amusing, I moved my foot and made a noise. He jumped a foot in the air and backed up, eyes bulging. He returned an additional seven or eight times in which he jumped a bit and rigidly rocked toward and away from the books. I just let him work it out for himself. He hesitated and sneaked around the coffee table for a while. Then he built up the courage to sniffed the books.

Ten minutes later, I picked up the cat as he walked by normally. I cradled him like I usually do and he tolerated it for a few minutes. Then, he caught glimpse of the stack of books and lost all control. Four puffy scratches later and I can tell you with hands down that irrational fear is not fun!

I too am as foolish when it comes to irrational fear. Lately I have done nothing but horrify myself with marriage fears. I have replayed them over and over again in my head, thinking about them in the most exhausted moments of late hours. I, like Job, have said things in the midst of my fear and hurts that are not reflecting of God’s character. And I have built up this irrational wall of fear that has kept me from enjoying the blessing that God has provided.

Its odd how books and four puffy scratches can remind me of a lifestyle better lived in light of God’s character. But the scratches still hurt.

Only When Ready...

When you're ready to move:

• you get so excited about packing that you can't go back to sleep at 7AM

• you see a tornado-hit room as a land of opportunity and joy

• your cat becomes all purry and friendly because he fears you are going to leave him

• pizza rolls look like a perfectly reasonable breakfast because it gives you more time to focus on filling boxes
• August 25th is 10 days away!
  

From Hiding

I decided to blog from my hiding spot here at Robin and my apartment. This past weekend has been wonderful with Andi's rehearsal, rehearsal dinner, and then wedding, as well as my LSW exam (I passed). But that was a lot of people interaction and exhaustion so today I am in hiding. I should be typing my paper, but I just flat out hate that paper with a vengeance and it's really hard to motivate myself to do so. (It's a long story, but I got a really frustrating and depressing draft back that absolutely insulted my intelligence and ate away at two weeks worth of work, grading it with a bitter "D". ... so needless to say.. I need to motivate myself to read my proff's commentaries as I re-edit the paper.)

Well, there's 13 days in closing until I become a Stauffer. A lot is swirling through my head and I can't wait to let it all go. I am beginning to finalize a wedding day schedule and work out the most tiny of details for the ceremony flow. And it's all coming into fruition quite rapidly.

I can't wait to finish college on Monday night. I am a bit stressed about job hunting this week. This week also marks my last week of work with my Kindergartners. And then that's that filthy messy room of mine that is waiting to be organized, weeded through, boxed up, and moved to the new address. I have decided that next week will be focused solely on finishing moving, helping Robin pack, setting up Matt and my apartment, and emotionally letting go of my anxiety about leaving the world of singleness. It's weird but after living your whole life as a single, it's hard to conceptualize and work through no longer being a single. It's kinda like the other day at work... "who will I be?" But anyway... along with next week's plans, I just wanted to spend a lot of time praying, reading the Word, and singing to the Lord. I know He will calm me in the midst of emotional stresses and last minutes. And I just want to be still... and know Him.

So, yeah... that's life thus far. From my hiding spot to yours... have a great Sunday!

Anonymous Me

"I'm going to marry Ms. Monica!" the petite, five-year-old announced to my Speed partners as he threw himself around my neck in the middle of our Kids Gym Kindergarten card game.
"I'm already getting married, Hayden" I explained as I tickled the little boy.
"Yes!" He stood up and pumped his arms.
"Oh, no, no, Hayden... to someone else."
"Oh," His face dropped it's expression.
"And I get to change my name!" I poked at him playfully.

A moment of silence passed.

I could see him thinking.

"But who will you be then?"

-15 Days!-

Distant Missionary

So I've been reading a few missionaries web pages lately. They are quite interesting regarding their experiences and their daily abnormal-to-the-rest-of-the-worlds. And I am amazed by the devotion of a missionary yet again. They carry this focus of our purpose [to make disciples] and they appear not to be lost in the materials of this world. Oh, don't get me wrong, in no way is a missionary perfect, but they'd also be the first to tell you that with utter humbleness.

A quote hangs on my fridge: "I want to remind the committee that within six months they will probably hear that some one of us is dead. Yes, is it likely that eight Englishmen should start for Central Africa and still be alive six months after? Some of us at least-and it may be I-will surely fall before that. When the news comes, do not be cast down, but send someone else immediately to take the vacant place" - Alexander McKay.

It floors me the selflessness and the humbleness of those missionaries whose eyes are fully affixed on Christ. They have such purpose, such drive in their lives.

And then I am reminded that we, followers of Christ, are all called to be making disciples in our home towns [in scripture: "Jerusalem"], our outer communities ["Judea"], the places we'd least like to go ["Samaria"] and to the ends of the world.

These thoughts come to my mind because I have been quite selfish with my time lately. In my selfishness and laziness I have failed to accomplish critical tasks and even missed a field trip with my work kids. And the question arises in my mind, "Are you making disciples?" You know, for one who calls herself a Christ-follower, I don't feel like too much of a missionary this week.

Time for a change of thoughts.

-Thank You, Lord, for Your grace and power over the grave that I could even feel these convictions and even think about changing. Thank You for Your mercy. I love You, Lord.-

Keeping the Battle in Mind

A lot has been going through my mind lately. Between moving and sorting through old things I have been reminded of from where God has brought me. With missing our field trip departure yesterday, God gave me extra time to serve Matt, even though he's at Kid's Camp. And last night, God gave me some time to release a lot of the built up stress from this past Senior Year of College. God has brought a lot to my attention. There's thoughts of what was "too much" this past year for the way He has created me. There's been thoughts of thankfulness for the friends and family that have supported me in the distance of an overbooked schedule. And there has also been thoughts of who I am now, after this past year, and where God will take me. So, needless to say, there has been a lot going through my head lately.

"Here I raise mine Ebenezer, hither by Thy help I'm come."

The familiar words of Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing pop into my head this morning as I type words. The thought of raising an Ebenezer is not a scrooge reference, but instead is referring to an altar built unto the Lord. It's neat because this altar was traditionally built when God's people would come to a new place or a new land. This altar stood as an acknowledgement of how far God had brought His people. Similar thoughts have filled my mind as I pack away old journals and move old books.

And the thought of my future is spurred from how far God has brought me in my past. And I wonder... and I hope... that when this short life in complete, I may be so blessed to hear the words from my Father, "well done, good and faithful servant." But it has become all the more clear to me that while anyone can look upon another's life and sum up their interactions as "good" or "bad", it is in the small details of one's life that they create the overall "good" or "bad". It makes me ponder what exactly a faithful walk truly is. I mean, I could only hope (along with Matt) to have an much boldness as Paul to be able to say at the end of my ministry, "I have run the race, I have fought the good fight" or even to say for others to be imitators of me for I am such an imitator of Christ. No, Paul didn't speak in arrogance, but in utter devotion and with such conviction of God's power and ability that since He conquered the grave nothing would keep Him from holding Paul to Himself. Not death, nor life, nor angels, nor demons...

I was talking with Robin last night as we circled what used to be "my campus". I released my desired "dune-ness" with schooling and Robin communicated her faithful friendship with few words and much listening. And the topic of growth in the Lord rose to our thoughts. Why are we satisfied with so little of God? came my thoughts, outpoured in many more words. (Why say what you have to say in a sentence when you could explain it in a paragraph, right Matt?) Perhaps we have been taught to be less satisfied, came a train of thoughts. Or maybe we have failed to see other examples and therefore failed to be an example ourselves. Oh, but maybe the real battle lies not in examples or seen things, but in the battle between flesh and spirit. And then, have we let our flesh win?

I read this morning...

So Satan went out from the presence of the Lord and afflicted Job with painful sores from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. Then Job took a piece of broken pottery and scraped himself with it as he sat among the ashes. His wife said to him, "Are you still holding on to your integrity? Curse God and die!" He [Job] replied, "You are talking like a foolish woman, Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?" -Job 2:7-10

Sometimes I feel I let my flesh win. This is too hard. I give up. I want my comfort, not my growth. The sores seem too much to bear. Why me? And other selfish thoughts flood my mind.

But dare I see, yet again, through the Holy Spirit's eyes...?
Or do I fear that sores and loss may be good for me?
Pain? Be good?
And if I acknowledge pain as growth, have I placed a target on my head?
But what makes me think that just because I hide away that God doesn't see me all along?
And if I run from God's standard surely it doesn't make God's standard any less of Truth.

Much to think about this morning... much to think about.

Licensure and 22

For those of you who have been waiting in anticipation, the final moment has arrived. Drum roll please... I have received my Social Work Board letter in the mail and today, my dear friends and family, I am actually able to contact the Board to schedule my licensure exam. Oh, yes! Oh, yes! The three week process is finally coming to an end. And very soon indeed, my dear supporters, I will be able to sit for 4 hours and pass the licensure exam that will enable me to begin job hunting. As you all know, this licensure process has taken far longer that I would have desired, but it is one step closer to me getting a job, which is one step closer to me getting a paycheck, which is one step closer to me paying rent and my loan payments. Yes, friends, try desperately to contain your excitement as I am. And this Monday I will also learn as to whether or not I need to revise my final paper or if I am as good as graduated. I shall keep you all updated as more information becomes available... oh yes, and 22 days as of today. Isn't that wild? Like we're hitting the 20 day countdown on Sunday. Like SUNDAY, folks! Wowzers!

The Art of Letting Go

This past Sunday was my last house church meeting. Since God has called me to marry my dearest Matthew, He has also called me to "go and make disciples" outside of the Apex community. I accepted His path for my life on October 22, 2006 and it came with a beautifully shiny ring too. =) But I have had many moments of reaccepting God's way in my life since then. Hard times like thinking of possibly giving up Cheddar, the threat of what could be seen as worldly financial failure, and many more hurdles have come over the past ten months of engagement.

One of the biggest struggles was that of leaving a part of the Body of Christ that is so firmly desiring the Lord. The roots of Apex is built on a true desire to exalt our Lord in all His beauty. And it's not just an exalting of God's love and forgiveness, but also an exalting of God's wrath and the parts of His character that we'd prefer to sweep under the rug of Christianity because we do not understand His mystery. As my dear friend Rob once made the illusion, God's character is like a cup. It's a cup of wrath, a cup of love, a cup of forgiveness. And His entire character is all in one cup. You either take it or leave it.

Last weekend I stepped into 5200 Far Hills Ave. to talk to my roommate. I passed by familiar faces in the hallway. I climbed the stairs, listening to Abi and Crystal's outpour of dedication blaring through the speakers. I remember when... filled my thoughts. And it occurred to me that there would be one day that I would walk into 5200 and come to the realization that I no longer knew anyone there. I no longer knew what songs they were singing. And the few familiar faces that I knew would fade into the sea of unfamiliar ones. There was just this distance... this indescribable distance...


I was gone for two weeks. I felt bad about not being able to attend house church, but I had to support Matt. And the best way I can say I love you sometimes is just to be standing there. He was nervous. It was his first mission trip to organize. Miamisburg people mean a lot to him and he didn't want to disappoint. He needed reassurance. I can't promise to offer him the right words at the right time. But I hope he felt my support. And when I came back I didn't have much time to think through the end of house church. Wise words once reaffirmed the grieving process of saying goodbye. But the words of goodbye carry more of a sting than I am willing to acknowledge sometimes.

I am not a finished product. Therefore, there are still peaks and valley ahead. There are still trials and joys. And it would be naive of me to solely focus on the joys without acknowledging the trials. Call me a pessimist at times, but I just call me real and God calls me "beloved" and "beautiful".

I was thinking last night, as I usually do before bed, and I realised that I could very easily see me as a wife of Matt. You may think, "well it's a good thing since you are marrying him", but I often think that many girls get so wrapped up in the romanticised "wife" that the daily unromances of life disappoints them after the honeymoon phase is complete. And let me remind you that it is such a mindset of romanticism that has my generation and the one before us in over a 50% divorce rate. But it was last night as I was getting all cozy before bed that my mind dusted through our newly furnished apartment and began to think of it as a home.

Home to me has never been defined by furniture, but by people and pets. Cheddar visited the apartment last night. He did much better than his initial visit and followed Robin and I around the apartment, sprawling out on the floor beside us. It put me at ease to see his comfort. And with Paris in the kitchen, Kenya in the living room, and a few displacements, the unfamiliar began to become familiar. And I began to tell Robin of the 'I like it's of the apartment.

So, this rambling of thought was placed into the nothingness of the blogging world just to say that change is hard but as I begin to see the big puzzle pieces fall into place, home has begun to look like Matt and my apartment and a small church of 200 or so. So, Matt... it's progress. One step at a time...... the art of letting go.

To the 4 and 1/2...

Well, my dear friends and family in the blogging world, I would like to start this post with a shout out to my Mother. Yo, Mom-o... keep it real. =)

Okay, and now I wanted to declare to my wide world of 4 and 1/2 readers that today Matt and I get keys to our first ever apartment. Now, since all 4 and 1/2 of you know Matt and my situation, I will be re-emphasizing my situation so as not to cause any further confusion if someone else stumbles upon this post and feels that Matt and I are guilty of infidelity charges.

While Matt and I are getting apartment keys... we are not living together until AUGUST 25th!

In other words, Matt and I are not, no, no, no, not, not, not, not, not living together. No, no, no... not, not, not.

But what we are doing is moving in all the furniture that God has blessed us with into a fresh (or nonfresh), new apartment at (see me in person for an inserted address). And that's way stinkin' cool! In the words of this pre-married, happily waiting, family-supported, 24 days countdowning, key-receiving, God-exaulting, unprepared packer, weddingdress fitted, cat petting, apartment messer, nose-running, showerless (thus far) me... "This is gonna be rockin' sweet!"

This just in...

There truly is so much to report and not enough time to report it all to you few faithful readers.

* I just got back from a 6 day Cleveland mission trip with Matt's church (yes, it still feels like Matt's church, but it'll feel like mine soon, I hope. )

* Last night (Sunday) was my last house church. It took a walk and a few tears to feel halfway comfortable with that goodbye.

* Today I have to make a copy of Robin's key to turn in tomorrow.

* Today I'm meeting with Sarah from Miamisburg to hang out a bit and head over to Sears for some guidance.

* Tonight is class (only 2 more to go- for participation points only) and I will hopefully find out how I did on my final paper.

* Tomorrow I have to turn in my apartment key and I'm officially no longer Robin's roommate as of tomorrow (only I'll be living her until August 25th until I get to move in with Matt).

* Tomorrow I get to harass the social work board to find out when I can test for my license.

* Wednesday Matt and I get apartment keys and begin moving furniture into our new apartment. I'd again like to clarify at this point that Matt and I are not moving in together until after our exchange of vows, rings and August 25th festivities. But we do get to move furniture into where Matt will be living in a few weeks and where I will get to live in 25+ days.

* And then the rest of the week will be filled with more packing, more moving, and I'm sure a bunch more random tasks that require my full attention and time.

So, yeah.. that's it all in a nutshell. Processing and preparations for my new life with Matt are going well. Thank you, Robin, for your patience and your hugs throughout this process called transition.

Thank you, Lord, for your perfect friendship. Thank you for your peace and your rest. I love You.

Blinds Licker.

So Robin's cat, Boots, is just plain weird. He eats people food... You know, like a dog. Oh and it's not just dairy items. He'll eat broccoli, black olives, cereal, dry noodles, and so much more. He also likes to eat plant leaves, sing to himself in particularly echo-friendly sections of the house, hang his paws over the top of Robin's dresser mirror (from sitting on top), perch on Franklin's tank, lick the bathtub foam after someone takes a shower, swatt at the bathtub faucet while the water's on, and a new one as of today... lick the dust off of the blinds in Robin's room. Yep, he's a freak. A big, fat ol' freak.

Life-long Friend

Thank you, Jes. You've been a wonderful friend to me throughout this transition. And your humor really helped. I love you so much. Thanks man for being a wonderful sister. Okay, enough with the sappiness... quick, fake cry and embrace.

Memory Helper

Oh and in case you forgot... 38 Days!

Purchased Lies

"The mainstays of the American economy are self-improvement products such as makeup, hair spray, hair coloring, perfume, soap, deodorant, and clothing. Since women are the main buyers of self-improvement products, advertisements are geared to women. Their one purpose is, of course, to sell.

Ads must convince the consumer of her need. To do this, they must first persuade her that she is inadequate and incomplete without a particular product. Advertising preys upon, contributes to, and reinforces a woman's poor self-image. As a result, powerful and disturbing feelings of inadequacy tug at a woman's mind-and her checkbook. She buys beauty in the form of soap, attention in the form of perfume, romance in the form of shampoo.

Age spots, split ends, graying hair, and cellulite-fates worse than death, if the media propaganda is to believed. Years ago, women, while conscience of their appearance, didn't worry about age spots because, thought they had them, they didn't know what age spots were. And if they did, they weren't bombarded with warnings about them.

It's not enough for women to wash and brush their hair. Now they are expected to condition it, dye it, color it, curl it, spray it, mousse it, and cut it in fashionable ways. They change hairstyles about as often as their underwear, which itself comes in a multitude of colors and styles. Woman-recreated in the media's image.

Not only is today's woman barraged with this female beauty propaganda, her husband is. Silently, she watches him watch. When she-and he, she supposes-stacks herself up against bronzed bikinied beauties, she sees nothing but a formless slab of whitewashed cellulite. How can she compete? Depression. Stress.

The Christian woman is particularly stressed because she knows that enduring values are spiritual, that character is far more important than appearance, and that while people look at the outside, God looks at the inside. But every time she hears a seminar leader (who is usually beautiful) talk about inner beauty, her mind is on outer beauty. Guilt. Stress. "

- an excerpt from "Women Under Stress" by Randy and Nanci Alcorn

I just thought it was interesting to read during today's rest time at work. Some areas, sadly, are more on the true side than I'd like to admit.

Away.

Matt called me Tuesday. I was glad to hear his voice, it was totally worth being a bit late to work. He informed me of their travels to youth camp. He told me about the popped tire on his parent's van that resulted in a smashed Axel, $200 towing fee, a 2 1/2 hour late arrival to youth camp, and eventually a "totaled" title for the van. He told me about the church bus fender-bender that resulted in a shattered door pane and twisted metal all before Matt could get the boys and their luggage to their lodging. He told me about his self-letdown and disappointment in being the driver of the bus during the parking lot accident. He told me he had an absolutely horrible night. And he really missed me. "It's funny, but whenever things just go completely wrong, I just want to be with you." He told me. And everything I had wanted to give him a hug and tell him that I loved him. But only the words could travel by phone.

So, I miss Matt.
He's away and I just plain miss him.
Could you pray for him, please?

the end.

Finishes! I finished it. 32 pages. 11 outcomes with subgoals. 10 references. 2 years of education. integration of everything I could think of. And it's done.
Goodbye final paper. Proove me well. Get me an A, preferably, or at least a good draft. But no matter what, at least you are done.
Done.
Done.
Done.
FINISHED!!!

Official "Transition"

Well, it's official. We broke the 50 day marker. That's right friends and family and faithful readers (thanks Robin and Matt) we broke the 50 day marker. Indeed, in 48 days from now I will carry two names.. Mrs. Monica S____ and Mrs. Matthew S______. Too cool I get two names... two identities... what else do I get two of? (Sorry, I'm getting a little carried away here.)

Today he did it again. And the sermon was great. Good job Matt. Even though it may have looked like I wasn't listening cause I was writing back and forth to Robin about Calvinism... I was listening and as far as I know... I never once heard any heresy. ROCK ON, Matt!!!
No, seriously. I couldn't have been more proud of you, Matt. God really came through you.

Well, today marks 23 days (3.5 weeks) until Matt and I start moving furniture into our new apartment. Oh, no fear friends. I'll be staying with Robin to keep my witness and Matt will be living in his bachelor pad which I will promptly crash exactly 25 days after the first piece of furniture touches the wood floors. Afterall, Matt and I have earned our white and we're keeping it that way! Thanks be to God for keeping us pure, despite our own impurities.

In other news, pre-marital counseling is 3/4 of the way done. Our last session is going to be in the last weekish before we get married. I highly recommend pre-marital counseling to you all. (Well, maybe not ALL of you.) But nonetheless, "I laughed. I [not really] cried. It moved me , Bob." (Thanks to Larry for the quote.) In all, pre-marital was fun and hard and new and reaffirming and ever-so helpful. Thanks Rob. And thank you, Robin, for listening to all my processing of the sessions. You really were a trooper to put up with me.

Well, this coming week is my last week for internship. (Woot-Woot!) And then my final paper summing up all of my years of Social Work education (all 2 years) is due on Thursday. And then excluding mere attendance to class, I will be checked out of school FOREVER!!!

Also, this just in... Tuesday I'm headed down to Cinci to have my last wedding dress fitting. HOLLA!!!!

So yeah, a lot of fun things in this chapter of life labeled "Transition".

Honey, We Need Counseling

Of course it's not just us... everyone does. Or at least everyone needs counseling who are getting married. Especially those who are getting married in 52 days!!!
(Seven weeks for Robin's count.)

I agree, Jes, relationships are hard and yet rewarding and very "different". And nothing like counseling will make you feel as unprepared for the future as anything. And yet at the same time, our first counseling session reaffirmed the fact that while I may not currently contain the wisdom to conquer fights, love Matt he way he needs, and be a mother (down the road), the foundation of Matt and my relationship is strong enough that the promise of the rest of our lives to each other will survive. It's nice to hear Rob reaffirm what God has already said to be the path for our lives.

But who knew counseling would put you on the spot? (Yes, I'm that naive sometimes.)

For a thinker, there is nothing more horrifying than an interview. And an interview we indeed had. But all the while I was fearful that I wouldn't know the answer to some questions, especially the "if I were to ask Matt this question, how would he respond" questions. So, in other words, if I don't answer this question right, I don't know my future husband. And worse than that, if I answer it wrong, but he answers it right, then I look like a self-absorbed fiance. My, my.... the stresses I place upon myself and the power that I give anxiety to conquer me sometimes. Oh, and way to scare the tar out of me, my dear friend, Rob.

Conflict Resolution is this Saturday's topic. HA! Matt and I have no conflict. This should be easy. We always agree. hehehe.

In all reality, while it may be hard for me to do the mushy romanticism love (I am just not quite wired like that), there is one thing that has been reaffirmed lately in Matt and my relationship. My greatest promise that I can give Matt will be proven not through any words I can say, but through walking beside my best friend and love. It doesn't matter what will come. It doesn't matter how much I get annoyed or frustrated at Matt. No matter whether I want to be alone sometimes or whether I fail to listen when he most needs someone to listen to him. No matter how many times I fail him by not supporting him, by disappointing him, and by saying something mean. It doesn't matter how much baggage (good or bad) I bring into our lifelong promise. But the only thing that does matter is that for the rest of my life, I choose to love Matt, laugh with Matt, encourage Matt, ask forgiveness from Matt, apologize to Matt, cry with Matt, and just sit in silence with Matt. And the only way that I know how to prove my love to Matt is to do just that... walk with Matt through life.

Sometimes I don't feel like that promise is enough. And I am sure that I won't know the extent of that promise until our first serious argument after marriage or our first huge trial or whatever may come. But my promise will never change. And premarital counseling, despite hard at times... and wedding planning, though hard and hurtful at times... and "the rest of our life" conversations about those topics that we so would like to avoid... all of it has only strengthened my promise to Matt.

I love you, Matt.
And I can honestly tell you that I will never leave you until God calls me or you home.


Thank you, Lord, for all the ways that You have reaffirmed this path for Matt and I. Thank You for all You have provided us with. Lord, "thank You" just isn't enough. Yet, thank You, Lord, for the greatest challenge and reward on this side of the cross. Thank You, Lord. Thank You. Thank You. And in my hardest moment of sheer hurt... thank you. How You bless me Lord. In Christ Jesus, I pray. Amen.

A good way to start.

Sometimes I find myself consumed in present day troubles. Oh, these finances. Oh, these internship tasks. Oh, these kids at work who don't listen. And it is in those moments that I need most desperately to think of the big picture.

In life, thinking of th big picture often overwhelms me. Ahhh, I'm so, so, so in debt from college that I can't even breathe. I'm going to be such a poor wife. I'm in no way qualified to be a pastor's wife! And let's not even think about how bad of a mom I'm going to be if God ever gives us kids.

But God's big picture has such a different effect on me. As was mentioned last night at house church, thinking of God's big picture helps me to see an even greater value to prayer. Thinking of God's big picture encourages me to live each moment for His glory alone. Thinking of God's big picture opens my eyes to the hurting souls I come in contct with every day and those brothers and sisters far away whom I will never meet on this earth. Thinking of God's big picture only brings good and hope to my day.

Today I read this (thanks for the unintentional tip, Robin). And it started my thoughts of God's big picture. Slowly the thoughts of my imperfection melted as I thought of God's perfection. Slowly the thoughts of this world's trials and hurts melted away with the thought of this place Jesus is preparing for those who acknowlegde Him as Lord of all. Slowly my morning began to have purpose. And slowly hope crept into my smile. In and amongst my longing for this new Heaven and earth, I felt a part of something so much bigger than myself. And to start off my morning, I felt, once again, that I could actually use these flawed filthy-rags to make God's name and true character known. Talk about a good way to start the day.

Thank You, God, for the hope of someday being perfect in You. That truly is something to strive for. I love You.

But it's Truth.

I finished!!!

Yesterday I finished reading Safely Home and it brought up thoughts. I've been wanting to tell you all about this book I've been reading and how it has made me feel, only I haven't been convinced that I could articulate the thoughts that are circulating. Even now I'm not sure. Where should I begin? What should I say?

My house church decided to read this book and discuss it at our regular Sunday evening meetings. Initially I was quite weary about reading and discussing anything but the Bible, but due to Robin unknowingly encouraging me, I pick the book up. A novel? I thought. I bet it'll be some cheesy Christian fiction. One of those ones that are more like a soap and less like a lifestyle choice. Stereotypical Christian. Stereotypical love life. One of those "Choose to wait" type high school youth group novels geared toward those who believe they can find more direction and guidance in a novel than the Truth of God. [Kinda close-minded, huh?]

In some ways the novel fit the stereotypical Christian novel qualifications. But in other areas... I could feel my mind opening. It was as if the King was saying, "Child, see. Truly see."

I won't give the novel away to you. I won't tell the ending (especially since Robin hasn't finished and she reads my entries sometimes). I will tell you things you could read on the back cover though (even though I never read the back cover). There a Chinese man, Li Quan, who has returned to China after visiting America and earning a high education at Harvard. He returns to his people in China and is a persecuted Christian. His old American roommate, Ben, has long forgotten any Christ thoughts and poured his soul into his business accomplishments, leaving his family in the dust. The two roommates meet in China after twenty or so years of silence. And the rest of the novel unfolds the persecution (sometimes detailed), the risks that are taken for God's name's sake, and the imprints that a radical Christian lifestyle has on Ben. While this book was classified as a fiction novel, the author based the book off of various stories of persecution that he had learned of on journeys of faith (missions trips).

I think the thing that struck me the most from this novel was the whole concept of Heaven's sights verses earthly viewpoints. And in the contrast, God so orchestrated that my mind should begin to wrap itself around more of the eternal picture of life and less of the earthly viewpoint. I have thought and still think about the eternal impact of prayer. It's power truly cannot be leashed. Suffering has presented itself as an honor and a blessing. Surely it's nothing to be pitied.

Would I hold to my God so dearly that physical persecution would not harm my faith?
Would fear overcome me in the midst of torture?
Do I cling too much to things of this world forgetting the Source of the blessings?

The life of a martyr is breathtaking. And to think of the humility still kept while enduring all things for the sake of the cross (-Paul's words, not mine-). Would we, could we dare as comfortable American Christians to forfeit our comfort for God's glory?

One of a few keys points in the story remains trailing through my thoughts...
Li Quan spoke to Ben of his failed marriage with his wife. He spoke in pity that the American couple had not experienced the persecution that made his relationship with his wife so much stronger.

Lord, as much as I fear conflict. I pray for persecution. Lord, for then I know fully that the opposition arises when they see the light of Your face.

Maybe, just maybe, the ticket to fully relying on Christ and dying to yourself is not only to admit that you have been a sinner and accept his life, but also to loose all your comforts that you cling to in order to exalt the Lord... no matter what your life situation would look like afterward.

But that's not what we want to hear.

But it's Truth!

-These links are public facts that the author assimilated on his webpage. If confusion arises regarding any thoughts that the author has shared regarding heaven and other topics, please refer to the Word of God to answer all questions. You could ask me, but I can't guarentee you any profound knowledge since I too am marveling and learning each day. Pray and ask God your hard questions. I cannot guarentee that He will answer your every question, but I can guarentee that He is listening and wants you to ask Him hard questions. -

You

-an excerpt-

"Lord, I love you. You are Maker of Heaven and Earth. You are Refuge. You are Relief. You are Shelter. You are Shade. You are an Awesome God. You are Forgiver. You are Healer. You are Ancient of Days. You are Alpha and Omega. You are the Prince of Peace. You are the Lord of Lords. You are Comforter. You are Open Arms. You are Mercy. You are Love. You are Grace. You are the God of Abraham, Isaac, Moses, and Jacob. You are Judge and you are the Ransom paid for all. You are Guide, Helper, and Friend. You are Savior, Messiah, Ever-present, Eternal, Omniscient, Director, Organizer and Maker of mankind. You are Creator of life. You are Faithful. You are Giver. You are Encourager. You are Teacher. You are Discipliner. You are Corrector.

You are the God who led His people out of slavery in Egypt and through the Red Sea. You are the God who provided manna to your ungrateful people. You are the God who taught and continued to love Your people and provided a Ransom for Your people even in Your wrath for their disobedience. You are the God who sent down prophets to warn Your people of the reality of Your judgement and to declare the coming of Your Son. You are the God who hates divorce because You are concerned with the heart of man. You are the God who used a willing virgin in a humble hole in the wall to bring Yourself to save us from ourselves. You are the God who used flawed mankind to make Your name known and Your Greatness known. You are the God who endured 33 years of our pains and our ignorance. You are the God who took on all the humiliation, mocking, spitting, cursing, depression, emotions behind self-mutilation, pain, worthlessness, selfishness, arrogance, oppression, lusts, temptations, mistakes, fears, angers, outbursts, disobedience, discouragement, and shame of all mankind in exchange for the possibility that we would accept a life-renewing relationship with the god of the universe. You are the God that died on the cross before we ever even thought to accept Your beauty. You are the God that endured all of that, even if we chose not to accept your gift. You are the God that chose to forsake Your Son, a part of You, for a rebellious people yelling "crucify him!" You are the God who declared, "It is finished!" and never once gave up on Your promise to die for Your people, even as Your people held the hammers. You are the God who as laid in a tomb guarded by Roman guards and sealed from people and intruders.

Then...

You are the God who conquered death, leaving the linens to re-emphasize Your love and sacrifice for Your people. You are the God who reminded His people again and again that You will never leave them. You are the God that after ascension sent messengers to re-emphasize again Your love and sacrifice for all mankind. You are the God who sent down messengers who opened their hearts and arms to share Your teachings, the beauty of Your sacrifice and what our response should be. You are the God whose Son sits at the right hand of Your throne, after having been with us sinners for thirty-three years and having conquered the grave, and prays for our obedience. And You are the God who took a willing servant and had him write down the end of Your story... the triumph of You, and ultimately, Your people, to give us all the hope we could ever need during our times of darkness and persecution for Your name's sake.

Lord, Father, Savior, You are that God.

You are all that and so much more.

Therefore, I love You.
Because You first showed me how to love."

Clever Boy

"If you could call her this week, it would be good.
It'd make me a prophet, not a liar."

Does a weekend get better than this...

Today Andi becomes Andi "a wife".

Congratulations, Andi!
I'm so excited for you!


And for all my loyal readers (HA!), I probably won't be posting this weekend because...

Friday, is an afternoon/evening of a dear friend's final wedding preparations, reahearsal and rehearsal dinner [I've never been in a wedding before. This is a new thing.]

Saturday, Miranda Snider becomes Miranda Baker!!!!! and my 'brother', Chris, gets a GREAT wife!!!!!

Sunday, celebrate my Daddy, eat dinner with Matt's Dad, and sing along with Martina McBride. [That's going to be a fantastic concert.]


That's right... great stuff this weekend. And I'm so stinkin' excited!!!

The Hop

Well my dear readers (all two of you) I wanted to give you a real look at my life thus far. So brace yourselves.

Last night I got the privilege of going to the bachlorette party of a dear friend. She’s getting married on Saturday and I’m so excited for her because she’s marrying Chris, who’s totally like a brother to me. It was a wonderful scavenger hunt party. Allisha did a nice job planning it, once the plans got rolling. Miranda was even pulled over (on purpose) during the hunt. And despite some of the gross elements of a bachelorette party, it was a wonderful night of good surprises and support of Miranda.

During this evening, I was most content to just sit back and listen to others ask Miranda questions. It was so neat to think about how far Miranda has come in her walk with the Lord since I first met her. And it was so different to think of dear little Miranda being all old and grown up… and a wife. But I couldn’t be more happy for the two of them and, while it may sound stereotypically cliché, Miranda and Chris really do fit together. I’m not talking about some American dream fit together, I’m talking about a day in and day out, sometimes angry, sometimes unforgiving, but all the time loving fit together. And it makes me so happy to count down the days until their public ‘I do’s. There’s four more days. Four more days.

And that brings me to the thought of the 74 more days left before Matt and I get married. Yes, everyone asks questions, and the questions were not contained to Miranda talk last night either. The same few questions arose regarding my wedding plans and the same shock and, at times, annoyance returned through people's eyes as my laxidazical, "things are going well, I haven't done too much lately, and we're pretty much done" flows out. Oh yes, I am exciting, but I have been focusing on what life will be like in marriage, not on August 25th.

Finances. Finances. Finances. Details. Details. Details. Sometimes it's a real struggle to try to make finances fun. I'm not going to lie. Sometimes the thought of all the numbers which will contribute much stress and, in turn, coping strategies in our married life brings fear into my life. But I am the one who controls whether or not I will cave in to that fear, exchanging my sanity or each unfulfilling morsel.

I know God. I trust God. He has provided in the past. He has promised He will provide in the future. So, therefore, He will. And I just need to trust that.

74 days. [For Robin, 10 weeks.] Two weeks from yesterday marks exactly 2 weeks until we reach the 2 month marker. In other words, 1 week and six days until we reach 2 months to go. Why is this significant? (Robin has asked in her head in the past. - wow that makes you sound liek a crazy, Robin. Or at least it makes me sound like a mind reader.-) At 2 months, Matt and I begin marriage counseling. Marriage counseling!!! Which means August 25th is just a hop away.


So, until that hop takes place, I am working on completing my bachelores degree in Social Work [internship + class], as of yesterday, it looks like I'll be taking additional class, playing outside with my kids, taking the licensure exam (SW), getting a job (or at least getting a "real" job rolling), securing a new APT, moving Matt into the new APT, packing my things, petting Cheddar, moving my things, going to Cleveland on a MFBC mission trip, having a bridal shower (July 28th), doing marriage counseling, and preparing myself mentally and emotionally to make one of the biggest transitions I have ever made.

That's me lately.

What's God been doing in your life?

In Excess of Maximums

I was checking my DARS this morning (the program that reports how "on track" you are to graduate). And I was pleased with all the areas I have successfully completed Wright State's University standars. Then I saw something a bit "different". I saw a "NO" where apparently I have not met a University Standard. In further investigating this "NO" I read this...

NEEDS: 1.0 HOUR

What's that mean?