Embracing Loneliness

In the quiet, in the stillness

I know that You are God

In the secret of Your presence

I know there I am restored

When You call I won't refuse

Each new day again I'll choose

There is no one else for me

None but Jesus

Crucified to set me free

Now I live to bring Him praise

In the chaos, in confusion

I know You're Sovereign still

In the moment of my weakness

You give me grace to do Your will

When You call I won't delay

This my song through all my days

All my delight is in You Lord

All of my hope, all of my strength

All my delight is in You Lord forevermore

I am a human being.  I get lonely.  For whatever reason, I don't think it's okay for me as a Christian to be lonely.  I realize this is a ridiculous thing to think, but somewhere along the line it's become ingrained in my mind.  That makes me feeling lonely a miserable thing.  Not only do I feel lonely, but I also feel condemned in it.  I want to change this about myself.

I was recently hanging out with my new good friend Becca Christian.  We were talking about this very thing.  She said something that was eye opening for me.  I'm sure that in all my conversations with people about this subject that they've all said similar things, but for whatever reason that day the way she said it resonated deep in my heart.

She challenged me to embrace feeling lonely.  Not to run away from it (which is what I do), but to be totally honest with God and just say 'God, I love you, and I know you love me, and this is where I'm at.  Please meet me in it.'.  Now, I understand that this isn't the most mind blowing revelation.  In the simplicity of this truth of how we as Christians should deal with everything, I found myself comforted.  I don't know why I had never thought of doing this before, but I am doing it now.  Sure, I still feel lonely, but I'm not alone in that feeling if that makes any sense.

So whenever Loneliness sneaks up on me, I now give it a big ole hug and ask it how it's been instead of running away screaming.  If anything, I'm becoming more polite!

Untitled

I am very aware of my lack of blogging as of late.  But please be encouraged it's only because I've been writing so much!!!  Stay tuned for more to come...

Oh--and I've lost 17.2lbs & 29 inches so far on the diet.

September 11, 2001

     On Tuesday, September 11, 2001, I had an 8 o'clock class at UW-Parkside. I was running late as I got into my car to go, frustrated that I slammed my wrap skirt in the car door. I remember wondering if I had time to stop for coffee. As I started the car, my frustration grew as my local rock station wasn't playing rock music at all, but some sort of staticky, strange broadcast. As I drove through town I flipped through the radio trying to find music. Finally as I realized they were all playing the same broadcast, I decided to listen. I drove, shocked at what they were saying. Two planes had hit the World Trade Center towers. The man on the radio sounded bewildered, shocked and confused as he was speaking. It reflected perfectly how I felt. I remember driving with my mouth hanging open, looking at people next to me at stoplights, the recognition in their eyes too. We were all moving through town as one. A city hundreds of miles away that I have never been too was suddenly so dear and precious to me. I was praying fervently as I listened.


     At school chaos and rumors and fears roamed the halls with the students. As I was walking in I ran into my friend Tom who told me he had heard there were 11 other planes hijacked and headed towards major cities throughout the country (this obviously turned out to be false, but it was a rampant rumor on campus). Fear gripped my heart. Students were all over campus running to their rooms or the computer labs, trying to get ahold of loved ones. It was as if the whole of the nation was suddenly a suburb of New York City. We all wanted to make sure our loved ones were safe.

     I stumbled, now 30 minutes late, into my English War Lit class. It was odd, they were going on as if nothing had happened. As I took a seat my professor eyed me. I raised my hand. He was clearly annoyed that I was interupting his discussion of Catch-22. When he called on me I asked if they knew planes where crashing into the Twin Towers. He said they did, that it was old news, did I think I was the only person who knew about it. This disturbed me so much. How could he not care, how could these people sit here and be in class when this was happening. I left class. I went to the computer lab and emailed my dad. He works in Chicago and I was concerned for him because there was also a rumor that all major cities were being evacuated. He emailed me back immediately that he was okay, they were all huddled around a small portable TV someone happened to have in their car. They weren't working, they were keeping each other company, people in his office clinging to one another. I called my friend Kristen who was a flight attendent. She didn't answer and that bothered me. Her voicemail box was full, so I couldn't leave a message. Everyone was probably worried about her.

     Back at home, the family I was living with was huddled around the TV. I joined them. We sat and watched all day as Peter Jennings kept going, reporting what was coming in as fast as possible. We were stunned. Tears fell down all our faces that day. We sat and watched all day and late into the night. I don't think I slept at all that night. At about 4am I quit trying and went back down to watch the news again. They were all there too. Nobody could sleep. Peter Jennings included, he broadcast live for two days straight through.

     They say nothing bonds you more to someone than going through a tragedy together. I had never felt so bonded to my country before. I had never felt so connected to people, those that were known to me and those that were unknown. As the stories of heroism and small victories came out, I felt their triumph. As families on TV wandered through Ground Zero, I felt their grief and shock. As the Towers fell and that video of that tsunami of wreckage racing down the street aired, I felt the panic and fear of those people running for cover.

     And now, nine years later, I can still feel it all.

     I was watching The History Channel last night. There was a program on about 9/11 Conspiracies. I felt so outraged, so betrayed almost by these American people who think that this could have possibly have been brought on by our government. I thought that this must be such a small group of people who think this way, those who call themselves "Truthers", but then driving to work this morning I saw signs up and down one of the main roads I drive for a "Truth Conference". I don't know much about the government, but as a Christian, I do know that God has placed these men and women as our leaders, regardless of who you voted for. I pray for these people, and I honestly believe that the majority have our best interests at heart. It is shocking to me that these extremists can be so full of pride that they can't acknowledge a defeat. That they can't acknowledge the lives that were taken or the lives that were forever changed by these events. How can we as a country move forward if we can't even realize the event was real?

     One thing I absolutely loved in the aftermath of 9/11 was the community. How we all came together. How it didn't matter who was next to you, we all held held hands and joined together. It was beautiful.

     I'm currently reading a book by Sarah Cunningham. I think she sums it up perfectly in this passage--

The immediate and generous response of our small city, which—on a normal day—is six hundred and fifty miles from Ground Zero, made it seem like New York was our next door neighbor. Thus, by the time all the follow-up emails and phone calls had been exchanged and we announced our clearance to help man the Salvation Army’s relief stations in New York, Jackson was falling all over itself to support our new endeavor.


Before this point, recruiting volunteers or donations for service projects sometimes felt more like asking people to give up vital organs while they were still living and in need of them. After the towers fell, however, asking for help became akin to asking people for a simple cup of water. Residents arrived weighed down by armfuls of donations, as if the items they were bringing poured out of their faucets for free.


~Excerpt from Part IV of Picking Dandelions: A Search for Eden Among Life’s Weeds

     If there's one thing I learned from 9/11, it's that we are all so much alike in our humanity. We all need to believe in the good of each other, we all feel the same things, we all long for Someone bigger than ourselves to intervene.

     When I think about the things going on now regarding 9/11, the conspiracies, the pastor in Florida with his Koran burning, the taxi driver in New York who was stabbed when asked if he was Muslim by a man with a multi-faith peace group background and the mosque that wants to be built near the site of Ground Zero, I can't help but think that we are all the same. We are all fearful on some level, we are all wanting justice, we are all trying to make sense out of such an extreme act of terror. I am not trying to justify any of these things, but I am trying to understand where they are coming from.

     Maybe if we all learned to love each other, these things wouldn't happen. Love is so strong. As a Christian, I am called to love my neighbor as myself. 9/11 is a good reminder for me. How am I doing in my love? Who have I loved lately that might be deemed unlovable by others? Have I been building walls or tearing them down?

     Spirit come, rain down on me. You're everything that I need.

My Story, Part 1

I grew up in Midwest town called Kenosha, Wisconsin. My dad was a pastor at a Pentecostal church, and that church was the background of my childhood. So many memories and main events of my childhood took place there. All my best friends grew up there with me. Friends from school would tease me about being religious, but they just didn't know how great it was on the inside. To grow up a part of such a tight knit community and positive atmosphere was great. I felt as if I was on the very pulse of life.


Big Sunday dinners of roast, mashed potatoes and gravy, corn, homemade biscuits with butter and honey, honey glazed carrots and so on and so forth. Every Sunday and every Wednesday, Robert, the church organist and perpetual bachelor, would come over to eat with us. Without fail he would show up every time with pie from Baker's Square. Key Lime, Lemon Meringue, Boston Crème, French Silk, you name it we had it multiple times. Life was chock full of church choir rehearsals, Christmas & Easter Cantata's, Christmas & Easter Children's Productions, church picnics, Heaven's Gates & Hell's Flames Drama's, Sunday School, Cell Groups, sleepovers, day trips, Summer Camp, Winter Camp and so much more.

The home I grew up in was full of laughter, life, singing, music, family meals and had a rotating door. We had people living with us all the time. Very few others did this in our church, but we took in those who needed help. Our house was the neighborhood hang out for all the neighborhood kids. Sunday nights after the evening service we would invite people back to our house for ice cream and nachos. While the adults would chat, us kids would sit with our bowls of ice cream and nachos and watch The Three Stooges or The Discovery Channel. During the week my two younger brothers and I would wake up and get ready for the day, eat breakfast and then we'd have our Family Devotions. Dad got us all One Year Bible's for Christmas one year and we would read from it every morning together. Then we'd be off to school only to come home to mom's warm chocolate chip cookies, then we'd do our homework, watch a little TV, come in for a big family dinner and then play outside til bedtime where mom and dad would pray over us and tuck us in every night.

Thinking back on all this seems like such a fairytale, but growing up in it made it normal. I thought everyone had wonderful lives like mine. Obviously as I grew older I began to realize this wasn't true. But it was still so far from me that it didn't seem like it could really be that bad for people. Surely life couldn't be so hard as friends at school said their home lives were. I went to public schools. I was the only one of my friends who did. My parents didn't want us growing up in such a Christian bubble and wanted us to learn how to relate to the “real world”.

Yet still it took me a long time to understand that not every little girl had wonderful memories of her braids flicking in the wind as she rode on the back of her dad's bicycle or of her mom taking her out on Mother/Daughter days of shopping. Not every family went on walks together through the neighborhood after dinner or looked forward to the family vacation every year or did Family Devotions.

And even though my safe little world popped like the big bubble it was when I was fourteen, I wouldn't trade it for anything. For a short time in my life, everything was perfect.  And even though my memories of that time are rosier than they maybe really were, it seems impossible for me to stop thinking of them in that way. I am so thankful for the family and home I was born into.

Something Hungry This Way Comes

I wasn't going to tell anyone about this, but just let them notice.  However, I feel too excited not to talk about it!  (Shocking, I know) 

I am dieting.  I am not a very good dieter.  I don't even like to say I'm dieting, I like to say lofty things like, I'm making a lifestyle change.  Which is ultimately true, but just sounds so hokey to me.  Especially in the begining. 

But I am committed.

Plus, it's only for 80 days.  So that doesn't seem unbearable in the grand scheme of life.

Today is Day 4.  I've already lost 4lbs.  This is maybe the last time I'll write about this sort of thing on my blog, so don't worry I'm not returning to my blogging roots.  (What do you mean?  You didn't know this blog started out as a weight loss blog?!?  Well it did.  You simply have to look at my first posts to figure that one out.)

If you want more details of what I'm doing, you won't find them here, you'll just have to ask me. 

I thought that if I told all of you, I would become more committed because suddenly you all know.

I don't necessarily want to talk about it either.  It's just easier for me if I sort of ignore it, don't think about it.  Cause once you start thinking about what you're doing...well, let's just say it's easy to freak out and stop doing it.  :)

September

is here!!!

My Tempestuous Affair With Writing

I am on vacation this week.  I strategically planned it so that I am only taking 5 days vacation, but have 10 days off!  Even though it's August 30th, it sounds so far away to say I don't go back to work until September 7th.  September!  Oh how I love that month!  And October!

But I am getting off course...

I attended a writer's workshop this past Saturday.  It was hosted by Sarah Cunningham.  She is a published Christian author, currently has 2 books in print, and countless articles, blog posts, ect.  I have never attended an actual writer's workshop before, and I must admit that I loved it!  I feel so motivated and refreshed!

I've always considered myself a writer.  I started journaling at age 7 (well, it was like 3 weeks before my 8th birthday, so I usually say when I was 8) and haven't stopped since.  Poetry, short stories, I've always been writing something.  But then, at the tail end of what you might call the most tumultuous years of my life came the absolutely hardest event of my entire life.  And with it came some of the best writing I've every done.  But that only lasted for 10 days.  From October 29th-November 9th 2000, I wrote my best as I was at my worst. 

And then came the wall.

I couldn't see over it, I couldn't see around it, I couldn't see under it.  It was massive.  It just came down from the sky one day and made it impossible for me to write.  Oh I kept right on journaling, but that was it.  Nothing else would come. 

After about a year of bottled up creative frustration, I started watercoloring.  Once that passed, I took up knitting.  Then photography.  Then card making.  Then baking.  Then jewelry making.  I am a creative.  I need to create. 

And all throughout the past ten years, I've felt such a longing to write.  The creative juices flowing, dammed behind that wall.  How high would the waters rise before it was breeched and it would all flow from me again?  How long would it take?  Nothing offers the satisfaction of writing.  Even though I did and still do enjoy many of my other creative outlets, none can touch writing.

There's a movie called Mixed Nuts.  It's a dark comedy about suicide hotline workers.  In this movie, there is a character named Felix.  Felix is an artist, specifically a wall artist, a muralist.  All throughout the movie Felix is frustrated that he has no outlet for his creativity.  It causes him to fight with his girlfriend.  He is a pent up frustrated artist.  His girlfriend repeatedly says to him throughout the film, "Felix, you're an artist, just paint something!"  to which he replies, "I'm not just an artist, I'm a WALL artist!  And I have no wall!"  I have really related to Felix these past 10 years.

All of this to say--last December I quit doing any and all creative things.

A last resort.

I have fought the wall in every way I know, so now, I do nothing. 

Wait it out. 

And this past weekend at the writers conference, something amazing happened.  There was suddenly a crack in the dam.  I can feel it in me.  Things that are stirring and whirring up to life.  Memories and thoughts that so long ago went into hibernation, are moving around within me, stretching and filling me.

And even more miraculous is that this has happened when I have an entire 10 days with nothing to do but let it out.

(That girl, she's got a hurricane brewing up inside her.)

Just Imagine...

If the whole world's population all laughed at the same time, imagine how loud it would be! People buckled over in laughter at the office, hailing a cab, in a rice field in Asia, in line at the local coffee shop. The instant bond of laughter connecting everyone, everywhere. Humanity in all it's hysterical glory! At the salon, lunch ladies serving mac & cheese, chain gangs working on railroads, tribal leaders in Africa, Eskimos, women in labor, baseball players mid-game, I'm talking everyone in the world.


Can you see it? Pilots, workers at the DMV, bicycle messengers, surgeons, people out mowing their lawns, Oprah in the middle of her talk show, librarians, families mid pre-dinner prayer, everyone around you at Target, the North Koreans! World leaders, politicians, rich, poor, black, white, laughter erupting from everyone in all walks of life at the exact same time.

The sheer volume of it would likely jump the earth off its axis! An overwhelming cacophony of wind over water, a hurricane of laughter.

People who were fighting and angry are suddenly holding on to each other to steady their balance as they're hunched over trying to catch their breath, lawyers in court presenting their case suddenly ridiculously uncomposed doubled over with laughter, policemen clinging to the car door of the person they've just pulled over; crying and turning red in laughter! Everyone stuck in traffic, everyone who moments ago were terrified, bored, angry, sleeping!

I think it would be a lot like when you go into a sold out comedy movie. At first you're minding your own business, trying to be courteous of everyone so closely seated next to you. But after two hours of ab tightening laughter, you're suddenly connected to those around you. You walk out of the theater laughing with them, quoting the funniest parts of the movie. On your ride home you laugh to yourself at how great everyone at the theater was.

Now imagine that on such a grand scale. Everyone in the entire world feeling that camaraderie with their fellow man. All of us laughing and slapping each other on the back, holding one another up as we're all teetering on the edge of ourselves, about to be lost forever in the comedic abyss. Hands on knees, heads thrown back, belly laughing, busting a gut, howling at the moon laughter.

A whole world of heeheehee's and hahaha's and hohoho's. The high pitched hyena laughers, the deep belly laughers, the cackling Wicked Witch of the West laughers, the mouth wide open silent laughers, the dolphin-like staccato laughers, the old granny laughers, the I've been smoking all my life wheezing laughers, the gigglers all laughing, hysterically, joyfully, honestly out and out laughing!

Someone once said they'd like to buy the whole world a coke, well I'd like to buy the whole world a good 5-10 minute laugh.
 
Preferably at the exact same time.

Eyeliner Magic

Every time I get a zit on my upper lip I am ridiculously tempted to color it in with my eyeliner.  Then I'd look just like Cindy Crawford, or some other mole sporting famous woman.  I've tried it once or twice, just for fun, washing it off before leaving the house.  It's amazing how different a mole on your upper lip can make you feel.  I felt...empowered.

Weird I know.

But you should try giving yourself a mole on your upper lip and see how it feels.  You suddenly feel tres chic.  French woman sexy.

Trust me.

The only reason I haven't worn this in public is because I imagine a scenario like the one in Robin Hood: Men In Tights.

"Wasn't your mole on the other side of your face?"

But then I would get to quote that classic line and make the poor schmuck who asked me turn beet red--

"I HAVE A MOLE?!?!?"

Miracle Polish!

All my life I been back and forth with nailpolish.  I like it when it's on, but it chips so easily, the upkeep of it, the way it screams "I'M HIGH MAINTENANCE" to the world, not to mention I usually fudge it up before it even dries.  Usually there's one month out of every year decide I'd like to start wearing nailpolish again and then it just does not last very long.  The filing, the clipping, the cuticle cutting!  What a horrible way to spend an evening.

This past March was the month of this year I decided to try wearing nailpolish again.  It was a sunny week and the first warm breeze blew threw my hair and I just knew I had to go buy a fun spring nailpolish.  And it was there, gentle reader, in the nailpolish aisle at Walgreens, that I discovered a miracle polish.  It is called Sally Hansen Insta-Dri Fast Dry Nail Color.  I fell in love.  The difference this time, is that I'm still in love with it!  I've been painting my nails for about 6 months now and have yet to get tired of it!

Normally I go for the bright colored nailpolish:

Snappy Sorbet

Mint Sprig       

Mango Motion

Blue Blast        

Sonic Bloom

Racin' Red

Lively Lilac

But now I have discoverd Expresso.  My current favorite color.  It annoys me that Sally Hansen spells espresso wrong, but then again, she continually brings me the best colors of nailpolish, so I can get over it.

Expresso

And I am so sorry that this is the best picture of it that Google would find.  It isn't as pink as it looks here.  I don't know how to describe it other than a mauvey brown.  My brother Luke says it looks like a grama nail polish, but all I know is it makes me feel like a lady.

This is what I'm thinking about right now

1. I think I would like one of those "aquarium" things on my blog like Heidi has.  Feeding those fish is mindless, brain numbing fun.

2.  I feel the urge to purge coming on.  I wish it would cool off for a few days so I could accomplish this instead of laying on my bed with 8 fans blowing on me.

3.  This is scary, but I would like to go to a foreign country.  Preferably Italy, Greece or Ireland.  Someday.  (someday is a nice scapegoat on the end there)

4.  I can't believe I've gone 5 weeks, 3 days without coffee.  I miss it a lot.  Then again, I'm still drinking tea, so that's nice.  I should invent a Teamericano.  Then everything would be perfect.

5.  I need more non-Christian friends.  But how?  Are they all just hanging out somewhere?  I accept this quest, maybe bumblingly, but I accept it nontheless.

6.  I would like my own kitchen.  Not sure what to do about that one.

7.  I am so excited that July is almost over because that means it's almost August and after August comes September.  And after September comes AUTUMN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  And that means hole-ing (sp?) up at home, making soups and stews and baking yummy things, chilly evenings, crisp mornings, colored leaves, dark lipstick, dark nail polish, dark nights, wearing orange and brown and navy and green and eggplant purples, scarves, sweaters, bonfires, apple cider, pumpkin beer, pumpkin coffee (tea?), pumpkin lotions, pumpkin candles, pumpkin breads, cakes, pies, rolls, pumpkin seeds, not to mention plain old pumpkins.  *sigh*

8.  I should switch the office decorations.  It's still the 4th of July in here.  And seeing as I'm the only one around here who cares about window clings and the general look of the place, I should do that soon.

9.  The oldies station is a great guilty pleasure of mine.

10.  I'm struggling to think of a tenth thing I'm thinking of, but it seems a nice round number so--nope.  Nothing's coming.

So here's the thing about summer...

Everyone wants to wear sandals right?  Break out the flip flops!  I'm with you, all the way!

That I get.

What I don't understand is this--

Why must we exfoliate our feet?!?  When did this happen??  I never exfoliated/shaved off my calluses before adulthood.  But now it's all about "cute" feet.  The problem with "cute" feet is that once you've soaked, exfoliated, shaved off your calluses and lotioned up your feet(you have to apply lotion after you've done all that other stuff because once they're nice and smooth, you don't want your feet looking dry do you?!?), you nearly kill yourself walking down the carpeted stairs, or down the carpeted hall for that matter!  You mop the kitchen floor and you'd think sombody used Pledge on it as you slide your way to the fridge for that midnight fudge bar!  And not only that, but then when you are walking around outside barefoot, you step on a pebble that's barely visible to the human eye and you'd swear you just stepped on Everest.  Whereas if you'd have kept your feet in their natural, callused state, you could run across blacktop at noon in the middle of July with the best of them.  Not to mention you could walk down the stairs without your arms out on both walls and clinging for dear life, just so someone somewhere might say you have "cute" feet instead of someone somewhere saying you have horribly ugly callused feet.  Which are the more practical of the two??

So the next time you're tempted to scrape the calluses off your feet, just remember--would you rather have a pea sized rock in your shoe and be in infinite pain, or would you rather have a pea sized rock in your shoe and not realize it until you take your shoes off at the end of the day and the rock falls out?

As you're contemplating this, I've got to go find my dang PedEgg, I've got a party to go to tonight.

Things That Have Really Happened To Me

I played the clarinet all through school.  I started in the 5th grade.  One time in my private lesson when I was in the 6th grade, I had a headcold and was pretty stuffed up.  My woodwind teacher was a funny guy and while I was playing he said something and it made me laugh.  But because I had the clarinet in my mouth, I laughed out my nose.  A huge green snot shot out of my nose.  I was so embarassed I sniffed it back up right away hoping he didn't notice.  I realized he did notice as soon as he said, "Well hello there!"

~*~

A while back (maybe 6-8 years ago?) I was going to my great aunts 85th birthday party.  I realized I should at least get her a card, so I stopped at Walmart on my way to the party.  I was reading cards and laughing at the thought of giving them to my 85 year old great aunt.  Suddenly this black guy came running around the corner holding 2 cans of tomato soup in each hand.  I jumped because he startled me and he said all out of breath-like, "Are you the girl who's laughing?"  I was like, "I was laughing, yes...why?"  He said, "Any girl with a laugh like that, I have got to meet!"  Mind you I was BY MYSELF laughing at birthday cards.  We introduced ourselves and he read a bunch of cards with me and we laughed together until I found the right card.  Then I left.

~*~

When I was 12 my family went to Wisconsin Dells.  I had this bright yellow bathing suit that was too big for me so my mom folded the straps over and sewed them down and every year she'd let it out a little bit.  Everyone was laying on these lounge chairs resting after walking around the park all day.  I went and stood under this large mushroom shaped thing that had water pouring around the edges of it.  I was just standing there, letting the water run over me, when suddenly my Aunt Donna looked over towards me and started laughing hysterically and pointing.  I turned to see what was so funny, but I couldn't see anything.  My dad sat up to see what she was laughing at, except instead of laughing he had this look of horror on his face and came running towards me.  I didn't understand why until he reached down and pulled my too big bathing suit up from my ankles and helped me get it back on.  Curse that mushroom rushing water thing.

~*~

A few years ago I came home from work and was in a big rush to get to my friend Adam's house for a taco dinner.  It is important for you to know that I was wearing a black cotton skirt.  I came home, took a quick shower, picked my black cotton skirt back up off the floor and put it on, finished getting ready and ran out the door.  I had to stop at the store for tortilla chips, and I noticed a lot of people looking at me.  I thought I must be looking dang good and felt really confident and flattered.  I finally got to Adam's and we were sitting around talking waiting for everyone else to show up.  I got up to get a cup of water and as I got to the kitchen I heard him yell, "why do you have a big white sticker on your butt?"  I replied, "What?  No I don't!"  I spun my skirt around to look at the back of it, and much to my horror I realized that it wasn't a bit white sticker, but a pantyliner!  I ran into the bathroom and peeled it off my skirt and threw it away.  As I was about to go back out to the kitchen, it dawned on me that that was the reason everyone in the store was staring at me!  I was THAT girl that everyone wanted to say something to but didn't know how!!!  I felt my face go red.  I went back in to the living room and sat back on the couch, staring straight ahead.  Adam said, "I thought you were getting some water?"  I said, "oh yeah" and got back up.  I suddenly just started laughing hysterically, I couldn't help it!  He just looked at me like I was crazy.  I managed go squeak out, "Adam, that wasn't a sticker on my skirt, it was a feminine product, and I went to the grocery store like that!"  We were dying of laughter.  I still to this day have no idea how that got on my skirt.

~*~

In the 7th grade I didn't have a backpack, but I did have a lot of books.  My school was very crowded, especially between classes on the stairwell.  And I would have my arms fully extended carrying about 10 books or so going up these stairs.  This one day, I was going up these very crowded stairs holding all my books when I realized that the guy in front of me was the guy I'd had a huge crush on since the 3rd grade.  So instead of paying attention to the stairs, I was staring at his butt because it was right in front of my face.  On the second to last stair, I didn't lift my foot quite high enough and my I threw my arms straight up in the air, books went flying everywhere, I was grasping for anything I could, ended up grabbing this guy that I liked and we went tumbling down the stairway together bowling down everyone else on the stairs.  He never really talked to me before that happened, but he especially didn't talk to me after that happened.

~*~

I'm sure there are more stories like these to come...

Alter Ego's & Ingrid Michaelson

"I will live my life as a lobsterman's wife
on an island in the blue bay,
he will take care of me
he will smell like the sea,
and close to my heart he'll always stay

I will bear three girls
all with strawberry curls,
named Ella and Nelly and Fay,
while I'm combing their hair
I will catch his warm stare
on our island in the blue bay

Far away, far away,
I wanna go far away,
to a new life on a new shoreline,
where the water is blue
and the people are new,
to another island
in another life"

Today is a dreary, blustery March day.  I am listening to this song by Ingrid Michaelson and dreaming.  What is the appeal of this song?  What is the appeal of running away and starting over?

To me there's an element of romance to it all.  Of movie-esqe-ness.  Add in a dallop of "there's got to be something more" and there you have it--we all dream of something bigger and better.

This is a path I can find myself going down often in my thought life.  It always ends the same way though, whether I think it for a split second or an enitre afternoon, I end up realizing that I am living something that is bigger and better!

As a Christian, I know that things are not as they seem. 

I often feel like Clark Kent.  Or anyone else who has an alter ego.  I am working and living in the mundane world, yet all the while I have "the sight", I can "see" things as they truly are.  I am aware of the enemy that's out for me and my family and loved ones and know that there's the potential for a battle around every corner.  Because this is a war!!!  I am waging a war and there is a war being waged against me.  But it's not scary, because even while in the midst of the battle it can seem scary, I know I'm on the side that wins the war.

Oh man...I LOVE THIS STUFF!!!!!!!!!!

I only wish I could communicate this better.

Overwhelmed With Love

Do you ever find yourself completely and totally overwhelmed with God's love for you?

You're just doing something normal, driving to work, flossing your teeth, doing the dishes and then--

WHAM!!!!!!!!

You're suddenly laughing and crying and singing and in wonder of it all.

This happens to me regularly.

This morning I was getting ready for work.  Something I do pretty much every day.  Except this time, as I was curling my eyelashes--BAM!!!!!  I got hit by His love for me again.

I just want to sit in the sunshine and feel the warmth of His love, imagine it's His arms around me.  Or drive in the county with my windows down singing at the top of my lungs of how wonderful He is.

I have never known a better Lover.

Thoughts on God & Nailpolish

God's been speaking to me a lot lately.  This might sound weird, but He's been speaking to me about nailpolish.  I very, very rarely paint my fingernails.  For some reason I've been painting them a lot lately.  My current favorite color is called Sonic Bloom.  But that's besides the point.

This past week was a gorgeous Wisconsin week.  For the first time in moooonths it was sunny and warm for five days in a row.  While 50-55 degrees may not sound warm to some, after months of not even coming close to 30, the 50's are pure magic!

Next to my backdoor is a small patch of dirt that I plant herbs in.  The green onions and chives are already in full growth and all last week I kept wanting to get my hands in the dirt, pull the weeds, feel the earth.  I love that sort of thing.  Yet because my nails were painted, I found myself not doing what I wanted to do, what will need to be done.  I didn't want to mess up my nails.  (This sounds so vain, doesn't it?? hahaha)

So every day I would walk past this small patch of dirt and want to get my hands dirty, yet I made it the entire week without doing so.

God began talking to me about this, and how I can be like this with things in the spiritual as well.  I can put things on myself that make me feel good, look good, that help me play the role of who I think I'm supposed to be in a situation.  And I can feel nervous or afraid when situations arise that threaten those things.

But God didn't make me to be those things.  They are things I've put on myself.

He spoke so clearly to me about how all I need to do is obey Him and keep my hand to the task at hand.  And I don't need to be afraid of things that I've built crumbling around me.  Because the only things that are going to be chipped away and stripped off are the things that I've put on myself, not who He's said I am.  The things He's done in me and put in me will stand.

It's funny how easy it is to sing songs that say all I want is Him and it's so easy to say He's everything.  Yet when He challenges something I cling to that I think has value or importance, I can be so hard to convince that He's right.  It's always hard to give up things we love, or to see things in us we've spent years building come crashing down.  Yet ultimately He is all I want and all I need. 

He is everything.

So even though it might hurt as things are being chipped away at, I know that I'm only being made to look more and more like Him. 

And that is truly worth living for.

808's and Heartbreak

I don't really know what an 808 is, and I'm not currently experiencing heartbreak, but I have been listening to that Kanye West CD a lot lately.  I think it's the warmer weather.  There's something about when it finally hits 50 degrees and everyone's driving with their windows down, and motorcycles are out, and you take walks by the lake again, and bust out the grill, that makes you want to just play music with a lot of bass and beats very LOUDLY in your car.

It can't be just me, can it??

I've been thinking about this blog a lot.  Well, let's not get carried away, not A LOT a lot, just a lot.  (What?!  It makes sense to me!)  I feel like I never know what to write about.  What I mean is, I know what to write about when things are happening, but when it's just the day to day life, I'm at a loss.  Granted some would argue that that IS what you should be writing about, I think I should be writing about something of at least some interest to somebody somewhere, even if it's just myself.

Does that mean my life bores me?

No.  I don't know that I've ever felt bored with life.  I love life!  Maybe I just have too high of expectations of life?

I had no idea where this entry would go, but I did not see this philisophical nonsense coming.  I feel slightly shocked by myself.  hahaha...hmmm...

Here's what I know:

-I am 31 years old.
-I work at a bank.
-I am not someone who I could ever imagine to work in a bank.
-I enjoy my job.
-I never imagined I'd enjoy this job, I thought I'd hate it and was scared to take the job, but it's now going on 3 years.
-I am a Christian.
-That is the most important thing in my life.
-I live with my brother, his wife, their 2 young boys, there's another one on the way (!!!), and Amanda who we know from church.
-I love the color orange.
-I love all color and lots of it honestly, but orange holds a special place.
-I love coffee and tea.
-If I don't drink enough water during the day I worry I'm becoming dehydrated.
-That was a strange thing to admit, it just came out.
-I like plants.
-I have 8 plants in my bedroom, which sounds like way more than it looks like.
-I only paid for 2 of them.
-2 were gifts.
-2 were leaves that I accidently cut off plants at work and are now full blown plants themselves.
-1 is from a funeral.
-1 is from a trimming off a friends plant that I liked.
-I also have 2 dead plants in my room that just recently died for no apparent reason after years of happily living with me.  I guess we all have our time.
-And I do have a plant that's at my dad's house.  He was caring for it for me because the cat liked it and ate it all the time.  The cat died this past summer, but he still has my plant, which is fine because I'm not sure where I'd put it at this time.  And I dogsit for him every Monday night, so I get to say hi to it on a regular basis.
-I have patio lights hung in my room.  I love them.
-I enjoy reading.  I do it a lot.
-I just finished a book today.  I'm excited for the new book I start tomorrow.  It's a Christian book.  I never read Christian books.  I can feel bored by them.  I suppose because I like to read for entertainment, not for knowledge.  Is that weird?  I just like to get lost in the stories, not to think about my own.  Hmm...that doesn't sound healthy does it...
-I would like to be a writer by profession.  As a career.
-I have no clue how to do that, or what that would look like.
-I do think that not knowing what to write about hinders that.
-Have you seen the movie Mixed Nuts?  There's this wall artist in that movie who can never do his art because he doesn't have a wall to do art on.  I can relate to that.
-The other part of me can be annoyed by that.  If you want to do something, DO IT!!!  Stop waiting for the perfect opportunity.  I mean, people who do things by nature, naturally do what it is they want to do.
-Wait.  Does that mean I DON'T want to be a writer?

So you see, only confusion and vain self searching can come from not knowing what to write about.

(Man do I crack myself up sometimes!)

Let's face it

I'm never going to write an update about my Green Bay trip.  And by writing that I would I've been afraid of my blog, so I'm just going to say the trip was amazing, I had a blast, and learned that I really do love my own company!

That said, here's a fun story for ya.

***

Jesus and Satan were having an on-going argument about who was better on the computer. They had been going at it for days, and frankly God was tired of hearing all the bickering.

Finally fed up, God said, 'THAT'S IT! I have had enough. I am going to set up a test that will run for two hours, and from those results, I will judge who does the better job.'

So Satan and Jesus sat down at the keyboards and typed away.

They moused.

They faxed.

They emailed.

They emailed with attachments.

They downloaded.

They did spreadsheets!

They wrote reports.

They created labels and cards.

They created charts and graphs.

They did some genealogy reports.

They did every job known to man.

Jesus worked with heavenly efficiency and Satan was faster than hell.

Then, ten minutes before their time was up, lightning suddenly flashed across the sky, thunder rolled, rain poured, and, of course, the power went off.

Satan stared at his blank screen and screamed every curse word known in the underworld.

Jesus just sighed.

Finally the electricity came back on, and each of them restarted their computers. Satan started searching frantically, screaming:

'It's gone! It's all GONE! I lost everything when the power went out!'

Meanwhile, Jesus quietly started printing out all of his files from the past two hours of work.

Satan observed this and became irate.

'Wait!' he screamed. 'That's not fair! He cheated! How come he has all his work and I don't have any?'

God just shrugged and said,

'JESUS SAVES.'

So...

the trip was AMAZING!!!

update to come...

Life is a highway, or so "they" say

I am taking a little trip by myself this weekend, nowhere too exotic, Green Bay, WI, to be exact. This may not be that big of a deal to most people, but I am not most people. I am one who has for the majority of my life been petrified of traveling. The unfamiliarity of it all that thrills most scares me to my core. I like to know where I am, to have everything around me be familiar and the same. Newness of locale can be a very frightening thing.

I have traveled alone before. I’ve flown to southern California to visit family by myself, and I’ve also flown by myself to Oregon to go to a friends wedding. But you see that was a mere few hours of terror alone and then the rest of the trip was terror with friendly, familiar faces. This trip will be entirely alone. Just me. I am horrified and excited. I can feel my nerves dancing up and down my spine even as I just type about it. And it’s true I won’t be ENTIRELY alone, but I won’t know a single soul who’s there with me.

I realize I’ve never said what this trip is actually for. I am a member of the Downtown Kenosha Kiwanis Club. Yes it is true, I’m mildly dorky. While we don’t wear water buffalo hats, we do sing and say the national anthem and there’s at least one member who regularly tells off colored jokes. I am the youngest member of this club. I joined because my boss asked me too. Kiwanis is the sort of club that you can’t just go to and join, you have to be invited to a meeting. My boss just happened to know a customer whose wife was a member. As it turns out, this lady is someone I vaguely know. She lived on the same street as my grandma and my mom and aunts used to babysit for her all the time. My whole family knows her, but after my mom’s generation nobody’s heard of her. She was thrilled to see “Debi’s daughter!” as she kept shouting loudly in her German accent. She told me the story of how she was a German war bride and was so excited to move to America and it was all very romantic.

So of course at my first ever Kiwanis meeting, I got this huge introduction. Well, I didn’t, but my grandma, mom and aunts all did. And she told stories of them that not even I had ever heard. So after a few awkward weeks, I was officially inducted into the club. Which isn’t really that bad of a thing; my work pays my membership dues and in return I get two free lunches a month at The Boathouse Pub & Eatery down on at the lake. We have all sorts of guest speakers who teach us all sorts of things such as how a team from the Kenosha Water Utility went down to somewhere in Central America and helped build a irrigation system, how the ambulance system works, that you can check out CPR videos and dolls at the local library, about the KRM Railway system that is trying to get up and running, the Chancellor of UW-Parkside is coming soon, the owner of the Kenosha News has come and talked about the paper in it’s heyday and how it runs now. These sorts of things are what I hear about every 1st and 3rd Wednesday of the month while I eat my free lunch with a bunch of old people. But they’re not just old; there are actually a lot of “higher ups” in the community in my club. The director of Kenosha Public Works, the director of the Kenosha Parks Commission, the director of the City of Kenosha Real Estate, various aldermen, the director of the Kenosha Transit System and me. I think it’s pretty hysterical and a random part of my life, but it’s kind of fun!

The whole object of Kiwanis is to “Change the world, one child at a time”. So we raise money by selling beer at local community events to help children. And the irony of that is not lost on me, but that’s just the way they do it. The winter months are the “planning” months and the summer months are the “executing the plan” months. I get to go to different events and have a 2-4 hour shift of either selling tickets or beer or whatever they have me do. It’s kind of nice to get out in the community and mingle with the common folk, ya know?

All that to say, I am going out of town this weekend to go to the Wisconsin/Upper Michigan Kiwanis Mid-Winter Convention. Now, don’t get me wrong, I am in no way a fanatical Kiwanian like some of my club mates. I’m more the sort of Kiwanian who sits on the sidelines and laughs to herself at the silliness of it all.

However, I decided to go to the convention for two reasons. First being that at the beginning of the year I made a list of things that I would like to do this year. One of the things on that list is “Take a trip somewhere by myself even if just for one night”. When I wrote that I in no way envisioned myself at a Kiwanis Convention. I was thinking more of a quaint little B&B somewhere in the country where I could pretend to be “getting away from it all and working on my writing”. So at first mention of convention (haha that rhymes), I had ZERO inkling to go. But then my ears perked up as I was biting into my BLT when they mentioned the board of our club approved full paid expenses to one member if they wanted to go. As I chewed my too-dry-not-nearly-enough-mayo-BLT I started contemplating the trip. I didn’t specify that they trip couldn’t be a convention, just that I had to go alone. Then I thought of the movie ‘About A Boy’ simply because there’s a group in that movie called S.P.A.T., which stands for Single Parents Alone Together. And I thought, why not go somewhere where I’m alone, yet together too. And that settled it. I requested off work and now it’s here already. I’m going to a Kiwanis Convention. (I still can’t help giggling at the sheer ridiculousness of it.)

This brings me back to the travel issue. A few years back I went to Oregon as I mentioned earlier. My friend Melissa played a somewhat cruel joke on me. She knew there was no way in a million trillion years I would ever fly by myself to a place I’d never been to go to her wedding where she was the only person I knew. So she asked me to be a bridesmaid. And how on God’s green earth do you tell your dear friend that no you will not be in her wedding because that means you’ll have to spend 5 days with people you don’t know in a place you’ve never been and the only reason is that you’re just plain scared. I’ll tell you how you do it—you don’t. You scream and yell and hoot and holler and dance around your living room while on the phone with her. Then afterwards you immediately break down into tears and call your sister-in-law. Then you spend the rest of the day sleeping to avoid the whole thing. And that is how you deal with the thought of traveling.

But my hand went up at that Kiwanis meeting and out loud I said, “I would love to go if the Club would sponsor me to go”. Immediately someone motioned that I go, then there was a second motion and then everyone in favor said “Yay” and there weren’t any opposed to say “Nay” except my inner self whom I was ignoring.

That was four weeks ago.

I’ve had four weeks to prepare my mind to not freak out. It’s totally fine, people do this sort of thing all the time, it’ll be fun, and you can stop and pee any time you want! But oh man, I have gone #2 a lot today which is probably not the sort of thing a woman should write on her blog but is what happens when I get nervous. I haven’t packed (it’s only one night, do I need to pack early?) or done any laundry (I don’t think I need to do laundry before the trip, maybe I’ll wait til I get back) or changed my burned out brake light (I should definitely do that before I go) or gotten an oil change (do you need to get an oil change before taking a 2 ½ hour drive?) or renewed my license plates (they don’t expire til March 4th, but I did get that thing in the mail so would it be better to just get my new sticker before the trip?) or anything. You’d think I was driving across the country, which if I lived in England I would be, so as you can clearly see, everything is relative. Hmm.

 

And one more thing—I think I’m supposed to somehow document me taking my trip alone (according to the rules of the list). Would it be weird to ask a stranger to take my picture in front of the hotel? Then again, if I’ll never see them again…

What Never To Say To A Single Woman

Came across this article on CNN of all places, thought it was hysterical!!

*****

Allow me to introduce myself. I am a gainfully employed, God-fearing, law-abiding citizen, and I come in peace. I don't bet on baseball, I take excellent care of my gums, I keep my tray table locked and upright from takeoff to landing.

Oh, and there's one more thing: I am what is commonly referred to in polite society as "an unmarried woman."

Truth be told, I now have a boyfriend and a baby girl --it's all very modern -- but much of my 30s involved ostensibly concerned bystanders averting their eyes, asking how many cats I own, and sharing their private theories on where it all went so hideously wrong for me.

Ah, yes, I remember it well. And when I start to forget, I still have plenty of single girlfriends in various states of angst to remind me of the grotesque fix-ups, the ham-handed remarks, and the brutal Thanksgiving dinners.

For those valiant, traumatized souls, I present my list of the ten things one must never say, think, or do when dealing with a single woman over the age of 30.

1. Hey, cousin Christy, how 'bout we break with tradition and dispense with that bridal bouquet toss? Believe it or not, it's actually a touch degrading to be shoved front and center next to your spinster aunt Mitzi from Winnipeg as a roomful of revelers hopped up on Champagne and jumbo shrimp chant, "You're next, you're next."

2. The word picky -- as in "the reason you refuse to meet my podiatrist's brother-in-law for a night of miniature golf is that you're too picky"-- is not only offensive, it's inaccurate. Hell, I'd have dated Ted Bundy if he were willing to meet in a well-lit, public place. No, I suspect it was your description of his "slight comb-over" and "profound desire to one day shake Dick Cheney's hand" that made me release that "catch" back into the wilds of New Jersey.

3. Don't confuse being unmarried with being 11 . My love of SpongeBob-shaped macaroni and cheese notwithstanding, I never wanted to sit at the children's table. Nor did I want to ride in the backseat with your darling toddler, his pet tarantula, his Spider-Man glitter glue, and his melting Fudgsicle.

4. Kindly stop filling every conversational lull by announcing how much you love "Will & Grace." Being single is not the same thing as being gay, just as being married is not proof of being straight...but I'll cover that concept more fully in my upcoming "Uncle Barry's Very Special Surprise" article.

5. Has anybody out there noticed that the institution of matrimony is falling apart faster than Courtney Love on a can of Red Bull? Now, I honestly don't care if your marriage is so gothic in its dysfunction that it makes the couple from "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" look like Will and Jada -- I'm not here to judge. All I ask is that you quit judging me. Perhaps we're not suffering a fear of intimacy as much as a fear of being trapped in a crummy marriage.

6. Remember that little factoid you used to bandy about -- you know, the one where 40-year-old women have a greater chance of being shot by terrorists than of making it to the altar? Then you may also recall that Susan Faludi refuted that myth 14 years ago. So, okay, Ms. Faludi is probably rethinking that (thanks a lot, Osama!), but you don't have to rub it in.

7. Enough with the "constructive" criticism already. We live in a world of stunning technological advancement, but it remains physically impossible to wear your heart on your sleeve and be emotionally distant, dress like a slut and a librarian, try much too hard and not make any real effort.

8. New rule: You may discuss everything from the fall of the Roman Empire to the rise of Rem Koolhaas with your single friend. But her uterus, ovaries, entire reproductive system are off-limits. Sending clippings about a 74-year-old Ukrainian woman who just gave birth to triplets along with a peppy little "Keep hope alive!" Post-it note will do irreparable damage to your relationship and -- if the woman is particularly resourceful -- may even get your tires slashed.

9. Here's a phrase that must never, ever cross your lips: "Let me tell you why a terrific gal like you is still single...." Because that terrific gal is then likely to explain in dark and visceral detail what happened to the last gentleman who uttered those very words -- and, trust me, you really don't want to know.

10. I've looked at single life from both sides now , and here's what I think: Single women are not Sarah Jessica Parker in "Sex and the City" any more than they're Glenn Close in "Fatal Attraction." For one thing, very few have Manolo Blahniks in their closets. For another, very few have sex with Michael Douglas in their kitchens. They sometimes get lonely, frustrated, they sometimes get flat-out goofy.

They are human beings -- tickle them and they laugh, prick them and they bleed, offer them chocolate and they eat.... In other words, they're pretty much like all the married women I know.

Nunsense

I waited on a nun at work the other day. 

Thoughts that went through my head:

'I could never do that, choose to be alone like that......but I am alone, maybe it would be easier to choose to be alone rather than fight it like crazy and keep kicking against the goads......maybe it'd just be easier to "give in" to being alone......but then what if in my resigning to it I miss my spouse, my best friend?......why have I never been in a relationship?......I don't know how to do that......I went straight from "good Christian girl who doesn't date" to "sure, I'll do that with you".  There was every boundary and then no boundaries.  I can only relate to the extremes, not to the relationship aspect......how do I do that?......I don't know how.'

So the long and short of this story is...don't wait on a nun when you're single, feeling lonely and have just turned 31.

HA!

A Winter Poem

It's winter here in Wisconsin,
And the gentle breezes blow,
Seventy miles an hour,
At twenty-five below.
Oh, how I love Wisconsin,
When the snow's up to your butt,
You take a breath of winter,
And your nose gets frozen shut.
Yes, the weather here is wonderful,
So, I guess I'll hang around,
I could never leave Wisconsin,
My ass is frozen to the ground!

(Don't get me wrong, I LOVE winter, but found this "poem" hilarious!)

The List

A few friends of mine are writing out lists of 52 things they would like to do this year with the goal of doing one thing per week.  It got me to thinking of what my list would look like.  Some of these things may not work out practically due to finances and allotted vacation time, but either way it's a list.

Here's what I've got so far--


List Of Things I Would Like To Do In 2010


-Accumulate $2000 in my savings.
-Loose 100lbs.
-Develop a heathier, more active lifestyle.
-Take an overnight trip somewhere by myself (even if just one night).
-Read through the Old Testament.
-Read a minimum of 2 books a month.
-Cultivate tidiness and organizational skills.
-Purge my physical belongings even more.
-Go to Chicago.
-Go to Milwaukee.
-Go to Madison?
-Study the gift of healing, fan it into flame.
-Speak a new tongue.
-Learn Zumba.
-Own a bikini.
-Paint my dresser/end table/tv stand/chair.
-Paint my bedroom?
-Visit Nikki in Lake City, MI.
-Visit Kristen in St. Charles, IL.
-Memorize a minimum of 12 new Scriptures.
-Develop punctuality.
-Ride my bike.
-Go hiking with dad.
-Rediscover my love of watercoloring.
-Go on a coffee date.
-Participate in every Twilight Market of the summer season.
-Reread all of SARK's books.
-Go with Molly back to her home in Seymour, WI.
-Go to Door County.
-Stay in a Bed & Breakfast somewhere.
-Write a poem/short story a month.
-Learn the "Single Ladies" dance.

I'm not at 52, but it seems like a rather full plate, and it inspires me!!  Who knows, maybe I'll actually do some of these now that they're in writing and not just floating around in my head!

Reflections

It comes naturally to me to reflect on the past year at the new year. I also have a birthday coming up on the 13th of this month, so I think I become extra reflective this time of year.

Things that have happened this past year that I am so thankful for.

January—My dad came back to Jesus with open arms and a humble heart. This is huge. The short of it is, I was raised in a Christian home, my dad was the pastor of a local church. When I was 14 my parents divorced and for whatever reason my dad fell out of relationship with the Lord. Not that I think I'm in anyway better than my brothers, but they had the sense to distance themselves from dad at that time. I refused. I was with him through so much crap. I grew up the first half of my life in the church and the second half in seedy bars with strange drunk men. Dad broke my heart but I refused to let him be. We struggled with faith together. Before I get too far gone, let me just say that after sixteen (sixteen!) years away from his True Love, he returned with full force last January!!!

Words cannot express the thankfulness in this little girls heart.

February—On Valentine's Day I was in a serious car accident. I was driving 65mph down a local highway when suddenly the car in the lane next to me came over and sideswiped me. Airbags instantly went off and I spun around backwards into an intersection, over the median and into oncoming traffic. I ended up jumping the curb and speeding backwards towards a gas station. The other car ended up driving away and never was caught. There were many witnesses. The most damage I occurred was a sprained wrist, burns on my hands from the airbags deploying and whiplash (not even super serious whiplash according to the chiropractor). The officers on the scene were so shocked. The just kept saying how they never see a car spin through an intersection OR into oncoming traffic and not get hit multiple times. I did both and didn't get hit once. When I go back and look at that intersection, there are so many light poles, street signs, streetlights, ect...it is truly amazing that I didn't even hit any of those things! Not to mention I came out on top of my car loan and had enough left over for the down payment on my new car, which is a bazillion times better (nicer, safer, cooler) than my old car. And because my brother works at Carmax, I got the family discount on my car and instead of it costing me $10,500, it only cost me $7,500!!! God is so amazing.

May—My baby brother got married to one of my best friends!!! She's from England and they told her (after all their 'testing' to make sure they were truly in love and not just trying to get her a green card) that it would take 3-6 months or longer to get her green card in the mail. She got it 2 weeks later.

August—My finances have always been a wreck. I am a bit of what you might call a free spirit, and treat my finances no different than anything else in my life. This has caused stupid things to happen, like $50 medical bills to go into collections, and for me to be a 30 year old grown woman working at a bank and still live paycheck to paycheck. Something clicked in me this year and I realized that I can't keep running to mom and dad every time I get a flat tire or something. I also realized that married or not, I would like to eventually own my own home. I also realized I don't know how to do any of this. My sister-in-law (whom I conveniently live with) decided to put me through financial boot camp. Starting August 1, 2009, I have been financially responsible. It has been hard, grueling, amazing and wonderful. I am on a strict plan that will be loosening up a bit come February, because then I'll have spending money!!! I am proud to say I have a (small but bigger than I've ever had) balance in my checking account AND I have a savings account now (that has money in it!!!). This is a much bigger deal than I'm making it out to be. God has been ridiculously faithful to me in this. It's almost comical.

October—Like I said earlier, I work at a bank. A small, locally, privately owned bank. You know, the kind that have been folding left and right in this economy. My job has been riddled with uncertainty, fear, worry and sheer terror since October of 2008. That's a looooooong year. Coworkers were being let go left and right, everyone was super tense every day, and there I was, clinging to God's word to me that I was where he wanted me and I wasn't to leave. Let me tell you, I questioned him on that one every day. It's a scary place to be. But yet I had unyielding peace, even when the worry and fear would get to me. October 23rd was a Friday. Twenty minutes before close we got a phone call. The Feds were on their way. The bank had been sold. They couldn't tell us anymore information, we just had to wait for the Feds. I was crapping my pants. Long story short, yes, we were bought by another bank. However, they kept every single employee. And they're an amazing bank. They're in the 95th percentile of banks in the ENTIRE country!!! That means only 5% of banks in the NATION are doing better than them!!!! I am suddenly in the most secure job I've ever had. And I love my new employers!! God blows my mind repeatedly. It's amazing I even have one left.

2009 was a banner year for me. Way to end the decade! Can't wait to see what the new one holds!