This is Ozzie. Can usually be found on a pillow (exhibit A)
or as close as humanly possible to Andy or myself.
(exhibits B, C, and D)
He is obviously starved for attention.
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
Tuesday, February 02, 2010
Really shouldn't be baking but...
I'm mulling over a life-changing decision, have a huge (and boring) project to finish, and my house could definitely use a good cleaning.
So of course, I am baking.
So of course, I am baking.
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
Like a Hallmark movie
If you know me very well, you know I don't do the overly emotional, sensationalized, feel-good type of movies. I don't look down on them or think others shouldn't watch them...it's just that I don't often find myself in the mood to cry, so I usually avoid them. Unfortunately, I seemed to find myself on the set of a Hallmark movie the other day (one of the worst offenders for the uninitiated).
Throughout our worship service on Sunday morning, the smells of our annual Thanksgiving potluck wafted through the auditorium, making it seem warm and cozy as we listened to Pastor David's message. After the service drew to a close, tables, chairs, and fall decorations flew into place in a matter of minutes, and it wasn't long before the auditorium was again full with our church family. But this time we sat before steaming plates, enjoying community, fellowship, and more food than we could possibly eat. I had not planned to stay for the meal, but as I walked through the auditorium and out to my car, I regretted my decision. I had thought I'd want the time to run home and change before I had to be back for a 12:30 mini golf outing, but as I drove out of the parking lot, I began to feel sorry for myself. Now I had only half an hour before I had to be back, and I did still need to eat...I told myself I should have just planned to stay in the first place. I'm sure no one would have known or cared that I hadn't signed up to be there or bring any food, but my stubborness won and I left. Reluctantly, I headed to McDonald's on my way home, all the while thinking of the great food I'd just left behind.
Since I was in a hurry, I headed to the drive-thru, only to change my mind last minute and swerve into a parking space. I grabbed my purse and headed in, still feeling a bit on the crabby side. As soon as I got in line, I became aware of the man standing in front of me - he was bent over and leaning on a cane, and I could tell he was wearing at least a couple pairs of pants. His clothing was dirty, and it seemed safe to assume he was going through hard times at best, and most likely had been living on the street. I watched as he pulled several coins out of his pocket and waited to order. Then I noticed the woman standing in front of him in line. Her husband had his back to us, ordering their food, and her two young children stood flanking her on either side. She had turned completely around and was unabashedly staring at the somewhat disheveled man in between us. Her eyes held a mixture of curiousity, caution, disdain...but not a trace of compassion. She held her hands in front of her two children as though he may lunge for one of them at any moment.
Immediately I felt a lump rise in my throat - less than a mile away, my church family was gathered together with more food than they probably knew what to do with, and here in front of me was a man who had exactly 75 cents for his coffee. He asked for 6 creamers - I assumed to make his coffee more filling. I debated whether to risk embarassing him by offering to buy him food, but quickly decided it was worth it and stepped up next to him.
"Can I get you something to go with your coffee?" I asked him.
He turned and looked at me, then his eyes twinkled (I'm not kidding...I told you it was like a Hallmark movie!) and he grinned and said "How about a new pair of legs and a good head of hair?" He laughed at his own joke, then said "No, thank you but I'm ok." He turned around and took his coffee to his seat.
I quickly ordered my food and decided to order him something anyway, but inside I felt conflicted. So many thoughts were running through my head: was I really so spoiled that I thought I was suffering to eat at McDonalds? What must it be like to have people stare at you as though your very presence is a threat to their personal happiness? Why was there more than enough food for the people who already had plenty, and not nearly enough for someone who needed it? How did he have the resiliency to smile and make me laugh when he had more needs than I will probably ever know? And most of all, why had God chosen to use me inspite of my rotten attitude?
Now here's the un-Hallmark moment: I was most bothered by the fact that there was no tidy answer. Was it wrong for our church to gather together in fellowship and enjoy a good meal? No. Whose fault was it that the man in front of me didn't have enough to buy more than a small cup of coffee? Unknowable. What difference did the one meal I bought him make when he doesn't know where his next will come from? And how much impact will this experience truly have on my life? Sure, it may soften my heart for a day, or even a few days, but how long will it take until I am once again consumed by my schedule, my priorities, making sure my needs (wants?) are met?
I drove away from McDonald's feeling as though every detail that day had been carefully orchestrated to jolt my heart out of the wrong direction it was headed in. I didn't feel warm and fuzzy, but I did feel, and that is something I can turn off much too easily. So I guess in retrospect, a good Hallmark movie now and then might be ok.
Throughout our worship service on Sunday morning, the smells of our annual Thanksgiving potluck wafted through the auditorium, making it seem warm and cozy as we listened to Pastor David's message. After the service drew to a close, tables, chairs, and fall decorations flew into place in a matter of minutes, and it wasn't long before the auditorium was again full with our church family. But this time we sat before steaming plates, enjoying community, fellowship, and more food than we could possibly eat. I had not planned to stay for the meal, but as I walked through the auditorium and out to my car, I regretted my decision. I had thought I'd want the time to run home and change before I had to be back for a 12:30 mini golf outing, but as I drove out of the parking lot, I began to feel sorry for myself. Now I had only half an hour before I had to be back, and I did still need to eat...I told myself I should have just planned to stay in the first place. I'm sure no one would have known or cared that I hadn't signed up to be there or bring any food, but my stubborness won and I left. Reluctantly, I headed to McDonald's on my way home, all the while thinking of the great food I'd just left behind.
Since I was in a hurry, I headed to the drive-thru, only to change my mind last minute and swerve into a parking space. I grabbed my purse and headed in, still feeling a bit on the crabby side. As soon as I got in line, I became aware of the man standing in front of me - he was bent over and leaning on a cane, and I could tell he was wearing at least a couple pairs of pants. His clothing was dirty, and it seemed safe to assume he was going through hard times at best, and most likely had been living on the street. I watched as he pulled several coins out of his pocket and waited to order. Then I noticed the woman standing in front of him in line. Her husband had his back to us, ordering their food, and her two young children stood flanking her on either side. She had turned completely around and was unabashedly staring at the somewhat disheveled man in between us. Her eyes held a mixture of curiousity, caution, disdain...but not a trace of compassion. She held her hands in front of her two children as though he may lunge for one of them at any moment.
Immediately I felt a lump rise in my throat - less than a mile away, my church family was gathered together with more food than they probably knew what to do with, and here in front of me was a man who had exactly 75 cents for his coffee. He asked for 6 creamers - I assumed to make his coffee more filling. I debated whether to risk embarassing him by offering to buy him food, but quickly decided it was worth it and stepped up next to him.
"Can I get you something to go with your coffee?" I asked him.
He turned and looked at me, then his eyes twinkled (I'm not kidding...I told you it was like a Hallmark movie!) and he grinned and said "How about a new pair of legs and a good head of hair?" He laughed at his own joke, then said "No, thank you but I'm ok." He turned around and took his coffee to his seat.
I quickly ordered my food and decided to order him something anyway, but inside I felt conflicted. So many thoughts were running through my head: was I really so spoiled that I thought I was suffering to eat at McDonalds? What must it be like to have people stare at you as though your very presence is a threat to their personal happiness? Why was there more than enough food for the people who already had plenty, and not nearly enough for someone who needed it? How did he have the resiliency to smile and make me laugh when he had more needs than I will probably ever know? And most of all, why had God chosen to use me inspite of my rotten attitude?
Now here's the un-Hallmark moment: I was most bothered by the fact that there was no tidy answer. Was it wrong for our church to gather together in fellowship and enjoy a good meal? No. Whose fault was it that the man in front of me didn't have enough to buy more than a small cup of coffee? Unknowable. What difference did the one meal I bought him make when he doesn't know where his next will come from? And how much impact will this experience truly have on my life? Sure, it may soften my heart for a day, or even a few days, but how long will it take until I am once again consumed by my schedule, my priorities, making sure my needs (wants?) are met?
I drove away from McDonald's feeling as though every detail that day had been carefully orchestrated to jolt my heart out of the wrong direction it was headed in. I didn't feel warm and fuzzy, but I did feel, and that is something I can turn off much too easily. So I guess in retrospect, a good Hallmark movie now and then might be ok.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
I like grocery shopping like some people like a cold beer. After a bad day, nothing is quite as soothing as a trip to my favorite food sanctuary. It calms me to remember that no matter how long I was at work, how badly a meeting went, or what kind of disarray the house might be in, we will still need to eat, and food will still taste good. I love picking our apples for the week (should I stick with tried and true favorite Braeburn, or will the Fuji's be better this week?) and finding jewel-like tomatoes still on the vine.
On my most luxurious visits, I wander into the long aisle of gourmet cheeses and read the descriptions below each one. Every once in a while I buy one to try - what an extravagant thing to be able to eat something I have never before tasted!
Maybe its an expensive form of therapy, but considering it doubles as our grocery bill, I'm going to consider it an approved expenditure.
On my most luxurious visits, I wander into the long aisle of gourmet cheeses and read the descriptions below each one. Every once in a while I buy one to try - what an extravagant thing to be able to eat something I have never before tasted!
Maybe its an expensive form of therapy, but considering it doubles as our grocery bill, I'm going to consider it an approved expenditure.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Surprisingly good
Sliced raw zucchini and black bean salsa.
Its not that I'm that heatlhy...I just really wanted salsa, and we didn't have any chips in the house.
Add it to your list of things to try, especially now when stores are practically giving zucchini away!
Its not that I'm that heatlhy...I just really wanted salsa, and we didn't have any chips in the house.
Add it to your list of things to try, especially now when stores are practically giving zucchini away!
Monday, April 21, 2008
I'm going to skip the explanation/excuses for why I haven't posted in months, because none of them are interesting or valid, so I'm sparing myself the wasted energy and you the wasted time. Besides, I'm pretty sure I've done away with any readers I may have once had by smothering any hope that I would post on this blog again.
So I've been participating in a little experiment over the last week, and will attempt to continue this experiment over the next three weeks. One of Andy's fellow teachers challenged us (and everyone else he has any influence with) to cut back significantly on our food allowance, with a two-fold purpose in mind. The most forthright purpose is to donate the money we didn't spend on ourselves to the Heifer International organization, which gives families a sustainable gift (usually an animal) as a means of becoming more self-reliant. The less measurable second intent of this project is to realize what it means to survive on $1/day, as much of the world does.
A few weeks ago, before we had heard about this idea, something reminded me of one my favorite family quotes. I think Daniel was about 3 when he used to say this, and the frankness of it always made us laugh. It always applied to food, and it was usually in reference to something favorite, like candy. My mom would give him what she deemed the appropriate amount, and he would more often than not contest that she hadn't given him enough and ask for more. Not one to be swayed by begging, my mom would firmly explain that she had given him what she thought he needed - enough. At this point, he would become quite emotional and say "I know mom, but I want too much!" This had the effect of laughter on anyone in the near vicinity, though it didn't seem to work on my mom. I'm not sure what brought this memory back to me, but it hasn't really left my mind since then. There have been several times that I consciously tell myself I need something, like new sandals, or a cute summery shirt, or a tall cup of caffeinated goodness. But really, I don't need much of anything. I know this, and I sometimes comfort myself by just knowing this and buying it anyway. But this past week, I realized I have completely lost touch with what I need.
I haven't exactly figured out what it is I really do need to survive, and since I live in America, I am virtually guaranteed that I will never have to find out. But I have nailed down for a fact that I consistently want more than enough, in ways that go far beyond the bounds of food and basic necessities of life.
On a more basic level, I've also figured out that for $1/day, rice and beans are your very good friends.
So I've been participating in a little experiment over the last week, and will attempt to continue this experiment over the next three weeks. One of Andy's fellow teachers challenged us (and everyone else he has any influence with) to cut back significantly on our food allowance, with a two-fold purpose in mind. The most forthright purpose is to donate the money we didn't spend on ourselves to the Heifer International organization, which gives families a sustainable gift (usually an animal) as a means of becoming more self-reliant. The less measurable second intent of this project is to realize what it means to survive on $1/day, as much of the world does.
A few weeks ago, before we had heard about this idea, something reminded me of one my favorite family quotes. I think Daniel was about 3 when he used to say this, and the frankness of it always made us laugh. It always applied to food, and it was usually in reference to something favorite, like candy. My mom would give him what she deemed the appropriate amount, and he would more often than not contest that she hadn't given him enough and ask for more. Not one to be swayed by begging, my mom would firmly explain that she had given him what she thought he needed - enough. At this point, he would become quite emotional and say "I know mom, but I want too much!" This had the effect of laughter on anyone in the near vicinity, though it didn't seem to work on my mom. I'm not sure what brought this memory back to me, but it hasn't really left my mind since then. There have been several times that I consciously tell myself I need something, like new sandals, or a cute summery shirt, or a tall cup of caffeinated goodness. But really, I don't need much of anything. I know this, and I sometimes comfort myself by just knowing this and buying it anyway. But this past week, I realized I have completely lost touch with what I need.
I haven't exactly figured out what it is I really do need to survive, and since I live in America, I am virtually guaranteed that I will never have to find out. But I have nailed down for a fact that I consistently want more than enough, in ways that go far beyond the bounds of food and basic necessities of life.
On a more basic level, I've also figured out that for $1/day, rice and beans are your very good friends.
Monday, September 03, 2007
I like...
- guilt free shopping, which includes buying gifts (because how can you feel guilty for spending money on someone else?) and using gift cards from thoughtful friends.
- making breakfast, and having the time to sit down and eat it. Today's special: whole wheat honey and cherry pancakes; I'm still full and its 2:30 in the afternoon!
- throwing things away. Don't worry mom, no important papers, and no keepsakes. Just junk. : )
- new music
- and old music
- and listening to music while doing things I don't particularly like, such as laundry, or cleaning the bathroom.
- making to-do lists
- and laughing at myself when I realize I've just made one week's worth of projects for a single day off
Monday, August 20, 2007
a few thoughts
I am probably writing this mostly to myself, since anyone who checks this blog on even the most erratic basis has been consistently disappointed, but I just need to write today.
I had a conversation the other day with a friend, and it has left a nagging question in my mind that I really can't answer. Or perhaps the question was already there, and it's just uncomfortably close to the surface now. As we talked about the ways our lives have changed since we last talked, we stumbled into one of our recurring, yet always unanswered, questions: what does it really look like to be a Christian? How does it make us different, and would the people I come into contact with on a daily basis be surprised to hear me profess my faith?
A beautiful, though I think only partial, answer has been formulating in my mind since then. I feel that part of being a Christian has to be the value we assign to each other. To know that every person is a reflection of the character of our Creator completely shifts the way I view someone. If this is true, I have no right to marginalize, or to constrain people to a rigid role my mind has assigned to them, or to value someone more or less according to what I think they can offer me. I know that this answer ignores a few key points of salvation and grace, but right now this thought won't leave me, and I feel like there must be a reason for that.
I've struggled so much lately with my job - I am around someone who constantly and unashamedly makes fun of anyone who is different than himself. Last Friday, this involved a female Episcopalian minister who came into our office, who he proceeded to compare to (or perhaps just decided she actually was) a lesbian (even though she was married), a muslim (?!), a tree-hugger, and a women's right activist. All of this before he had even met her! Disgusting enough on its own, but even more so when you know that this same person is a professing Christian, goes to church, teaches Sunday School to children, and makes sure we all pray together before we start our work day. Words often escape me on days like that.
I don't know what the whole answer is, but surely it must be informed by this? I always cringe when people pick a Christian who doesn't exemplify their idea of God and say "If that's what being a Christian is, I don't want anything to do with it!" I wish I could direct their attention to someone else, in part because the person they are pointing out usually is a poor example, but also because it seems like a weak excuse to pick out the person who just proves your point. But right now, I can see how hard it is to look past something like that. I'm not giving up, but I am certainly questioning how faith and grace can truly exist in what seems like such a hateful heart. And even more, I am wondering what it is that I am blind to.
I had a conversation the other day with a friend, and it has left a nagging question in my mind that I really can't answer. Or perhaps the question was already there, and it's just uncomfortably close to the surface now. As we talked about the ways our lives have changed since we last talked, we stumbled into one of our recurring, yet always unanswered, questions: what does it really look like to be a Christian? How does it make us different, and would the people I come into contact with on a daily basis be surprised to hear me profess my faith?
A beautiful, though I think only partial, answer has been formulating in my mind since then. I feel that part of being a Christian has to be the value we assign to each other. To know that every person is a reflection of the character of our Creator completely shifts the way I view someone. If this is true, I have no right to marginalize, or to constrain people to a rigid role my mind has assigned to them, or to value someone more or less according to what I think they can offer me. I know that this answer ignores a few key points of salvation and grace, but right now this thought won't leave me, and I feel like there must be a reason for that.
I've struggled so much lately with my job - I am around someone who constantly and unashamedly makes fun of anyone who is different than himself. Last Friday, this involved a female Episcopalian minister who came into our office, who he proceeded to compare to (or perhaps just decided she actually was) a lesbian (even though she was married), a muslim (?!), a tree-hugger, and a women's right activist. All of this before he had even met her! Disgusting enough on its own, but even more so when you know that this same person is a professing Christian, goes to church, teaches Sunday School to children, and makes sure we all pray together before we start our work day. Words often escape me on days like that.
I don't know what the whole answer is, but surely it must be informed by this? I always cringe when people pick a Christian who doesn't exemplify their idea of God and say "If that's what being a Christian is, I don't want anything to do with it!" I wish I could direct their attention to someone else, in part because the person they are pointing out usually is a poor example, but also because it seems like a weak excuse to pick out the person who just proves your point. But right now, I can see how hard it is to look past something like that. I'm not giving up, but I am certainly questioning how faith and grace can truly exist in what seems like such a hateful heart. And even more, I am wondering what it is that I am blind to.
Friday, May 04, 2007
A different world
I'm home in Michigan this weekend visiting family. I've only been here for 17 hours, but already I've forgotten all my usual stresses.
Normal Friday: rise at 5:30, drive almost an hour to get to work, rush to see our patients on schedule, most likely fit an extra patient or two in at the end of the day, and fight the traffic to get home.
Today: slept in until 10, sat down for a leisurely cup of coffee (3 actually), visited with my extended family over a meal I didn't lift a finger to prepare, went to hear my little brother play in his band for the state festivals, and went to a talent show (in which he won 3rd place!) I also managed to fit in a rousing game of Mario Kart with Andy; not surprisingly, he won.
I could get used to not working.
Normal Friday: rise at 5:30, drive almost an hour to get to work, rush to see our patients on schedule, most likely fit an extra patient or two in at the end of the day, and fight the traffic to get home.
Today: slept in until 10, sat down for a leisurely cup of coffee (3 actually), visited with my extended family over a meal I didn't lift a finger to prepare, went to hear my little brother play in his band for the state festivals, and went to a talent show (in which he won 3rd place!) I also managed to fit in a rousing game of Mario Kart with Andy; not surprisingly, he won.
I could get used to not working.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
I have a recurring daydream which surfaces periodically, usually provoked by a story or picture depicting the lure of a world somehow different than my own. What would it be like, I wonder, to live somewhere new, where no one knows me, where nothing has been given the chance to grow boring and mundane?
The other day I was listening to NPR and they were interviewing random people who live on Route 50, an interstate stretching from the Pacific to the Atlantic. As each new interviewee answered questions and revealed their perspective, my mind began to wonder what my life would be like if I lived in Eureka, Nevada or Leawood, Kansas? What job would I have? Who would I know? Who would people think I was? It always seems so much more adventurous and quixotic than my own predictable life.
I always feel guilty when I think like this, because I'm actually quite happy and feel confident that I couldn't, and wouldn't, leave the world I know, no matter how tempting the mysterious unknown.
Concurrently, I am reminded of the blessed ties that bind; my loving husband, friends I cannot imagine losing, and a family I already miss.
The romance of the unknown pales in comparison to my treasured witnesses, the ones who are there to see and listen to the mundane details of my life, to verify that I experience, grow, change, exist.
The other day I was listening to NPR and they were interviewing random people who live on Route 50, an interstate stretching from the Pacific to the Atlantic. As each new interviewee answered questions and revealed their perspective, my mind began to wonder what my life would be like if I lived in Eureka, Nevada or Leawood, Kansas? What job would I have? Who would I know? Who would people think I was? It always seems so much more adventurous and quixotic than my own predictable life.
I always feel guilty when I think like this, because I'm actually quite happy and feel confident that I couldn't, and wouldn't, leave the world I know, no matter how tempting the mysterious unknown.
Concurrently, I am reminded of the blessed ties that bind; my loving husband, friends I cannot imagine losing, and a family I already miss.
The romance of the unknown pales in comparison to my treasured witnesses, the ones who are there to see and listen to the mundane details of my life, to verify that I experience, grow, change, exist.
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Guilty as charged on all accounts
Blog abuse, blog block, blog neglect.
I have no excuse, at least no excuse that everyone else doesn't have as well. Yes I've been busy, taken up with the celebrations and festivities, yes work has been crazy with everyone trying to get their appointments in before the end of the year.
But mostly I just haven't had much to say. Perhaps its been the business of my life that keeps my mind to preoccupied to think about much more than getting through the day. But I know there are people far busier than I who find time to think, write, and challenge themselves. So I'm left with only a few conclusions, one of which seems to be the most likely:
My brain is getting lazy.
I'm not really sure how I'm going to fix this problem, but I promise to blog more whether I make progress or not.
I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas with their friends and families. Mine was filled with delicious food, sleeping in late, and of course some thoughtful presents. Michigan didn't provide a white Christmas, but it still felt like home.
I have no excuse, at least no excuse that everyone else doesn't have as well. Yes I've been busy, taken up with the celebrations and festivities, yes work has been crazy with everyone trying to get their appointments in before the end of the year.
But mostly I just haven't had much to say. Perhaps its been the business of my life that keeps my mind to preoccupied to think about much more than getting through the day. But I know there are people far busier than I who find time to think, write, and challenge themselves. So I'm left with only a few conclusions, one of which seems to be the most likely:
My brain is getting lazy.
I'm not really sure how I'm going to fix this problem, but I promise to blog more whether I make progress or not.
I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas with their friends and families. Mine was filled with delicious food, sleeping in late, and of course some thoughtful presents. Michigan didn't provide a white Christmas, but it still felt like home.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
The short version
Here are my long-awaited (I don't know how you've all been sleeping at night) before/after pictures. I actually typed out the whole long, painful story, but just as I was uploading the last picture, my computer froze up, and I don't have the energy to do it again. Suffice it to say that while the difference between the beginning and the end seems negligible, three different boxes of hair dye and finally a 3 hour, 4-procedure process at the salon are the undocumented footage. My hair has now been dark brown, horizontally striped lighter brown, black, and slightly green in the past week. (by the way, those weren't all happening at the same time. Each color had its own reign of terror)
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Proof of Some of Andy's Hidden Abilities
Here is a photo of Andy in his high school musical, "Grease". Good luck finding him. If you're lucky enough, perhaps you will have a chance to view this video sometime...
Here is proof of Andy's hair dyeing abilities. Clearly, there are no missed spots here. I rest my case.
Friday, September 15, 2006
She trusted me...again!
Even though I missed a significant portion of her hair last time, Casi decided to give me another chance. Tonight we both helped each other dye our hair, and the results were much better. Niether of us has any stripes, patches, or spots in our hair, so we're already a step ahead of last time.
Here's Casi's before picture, where she's warning me that I had better not mess up this time!
And now deciding if she likes it (and also if we can still be friends)
She likes it!!
Soon to come...Janell's before and afters!
Here's Casi's before picture, where she's warning me that I had better not mess up this time!
And now deciding if she likes it (and also if we can still be friends)
She likes it!!
Soon to come...Janell's before and afters!
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Second Winds and New Beginnings
That was the title of Pastor David's timely sermon on Sunday. This past Sunday marked our church's first meeting in our new building, as well as our first Sunday with our new pastor, David Womack. Looking back, it makes all the delays in our building progress as well as the long search for a pastor so worth the wait. It was so fitting that we should all begin anew together, and we honestly couldn't have planned it that we way if we tried. Obviously we weren't the ones planning it.
I never would have guessed the incredible amount of time and work that would be required when we broke ground over a year ago, but I am so thankful for the challenges and needs that have met us along the way. Up until that point, everything had been handed to us. But as people left, and contractors went out of business, and money grew tighter, a strange thing started to happen. We started to act like a family, a family that could pull together and contribute whatever we had to get through. And we started (emphasis on started) to rely on God again. We knew the odds were against us, and the only way we were going to get through was (and is) to rely on God and His wisdom, not our own.
We had our last real workday last Saturday, from 7:30am until 11:30pm! I somehow found myself painting...again. This time it was wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling shelves, and this time I got to have a friend. Casi and I spent all day painting shelves for the Christian Education office, and maybe a little bit of time talking. : ) Though it was a very long day, it was also one of the most rewarding. Instead of feeling overwhelmed by all the work yet to be done as I walked out the door to go home, I felt excitement. In only a few short hours, we would be meeting there, singing praise to the Lord, listening to Pastor David bring us the Word, and celebrating God's faithfulness to us!
And that's what we did. We sang and prayed, and we listened to Pastor David talk about the things we can expect God to do in us and in our community through our new beginning. It was so refreshing to be still for a moment (a recurring theme I guess) and look back on where we've been, and then to look eagerly ahead to where we are going.
This coming weekend is our Grand Opening, which will include a Fun Fair for families as well as a dessert/coffeehouse for adults, so that will be a little busy. After that, my life should (for some reason it never seems to work out this way) become a little less crazy. And I can post more than once a month. And hopefully sleep a little bit more. And become slightly less addicted to coffee.
Then again, what's so bad about coffee? ; )
I never would have guessed the incredible amount of time and work that would be required when we broke ground over a year ago, but I am so thankful for the challenges and needs that have met us along the way. Up until that point, everything had been handed to us. But as people left, and contractors went out of business, and money grew tighter, a strange thing started to happen. We started to act like a family, a family that could pull together and contribute whatever we had to get through. And we started (emphasis on started) to rely on God again. We knew the odds were against us, and the only way we were going to get through was (and is) to rely on God and His wisdom, not our own.
We had our last real workday last Saturday, from 7:30am until 11:30pm! I somehow found myself painting...again. This time it was wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling shelves, and this time I got to have a friend. Casi and I spent all day painting shelves for the Christian Education office, and maybe a little bit of time talking. : ) Though it was a very long day, it was also one of the most rewarding. Instead of feeling overwhelmed by all the work yet to be done as I walked out the door to go home, I felt excitement. In only a few short hours, we would be meeting there, singing praise to the Lord, listening to Pastor David bring us the Word, and celebrating God's faithfulness to us!
And that's what we did. We sang and prayed, and we listened to Pastor David talk about the things we can expect God to do in us and in our community through our new beginning. It was so refreshing to be still for a moment (a recurring theme I guess) and look back on where we've been, and then to look eagerly ahead to where we are going.
This coming weekend is our Grand Opening, which will include a Fun Fair for families as well as a dessert/coffeehouse for adults, so that will be a little busy. After that, my life should (for some reason it never seems to work out this way) become a little less crazy. And I can post more than once a month. And hopefully sleep a little bit more. And become slightly less addicted to coffee.
Then again, what's so bad about coffee? ; )
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Being = Painting
And I don't mean pictures. I mean baseboards. I know I promised myself to just relax and "be," but in the face of so many things to do, I just couldn't.
Every Saturday morning, we have a workday at our new church building, which usually involves cleaning or small projects. Andy and I try to go if at all possible, especially lately since we'll be (hopefully) moving our services there in just a couple weeks. This is one of those things Andy and I always do together, but I wanted to go this morning even though he is out of town to get started on a project that will ultimately fall on his shoulders: painting the baseboards in our new auditorium.
Andy is a fantastic painter. He's fast, innovative, and meticulous, so it isn't hard to understand why any leftover painting jobs have been assigned to him. However, with so many other things on his plate, he's been putting in a lot of time (read: too much) trying to get everything done.
So I decided to help. I went in this morning with a mission: to get the first coat of primer on the baseboards (which are already mounted, making it much more time consuming to paint). Without going into too much detail, let me explain how this job could possibly take as long as it did. The carpet is already installed, so the floor-baseboard angle had to be taped to avoid painting the carpet. Also, we have wall carpet that extends halfway up the wall (not as weird as it sounds) which is preferably avoided when painting as well. So...that means I had to use a 23 inch edging tool that I slid between the top of the baseboard and the wall carpet in order to get to the very edge of the baseboard without painting the wall...
...it took FOREVER!
This morning, I finished the biggest wall but had to leave to take one of my friends to the airport. So this afternoon, I debated: "I know I said I would just 'be,' but if I don't finish that, it's just more work for Andy, and he already has too much to do." Next thing I knew, I was at the church.
At first I was disappointed in myself. It truly is one of my (more socially acceptable) weaknesses that I will "do" anything before I allow myself to contemplate the thoughts in my head, to process the things that happen in my life. But as I painted, my thoughts slowed, and I began to think about the many people and situations that make up my world. There was no one else there to talk to, and there was no music to distract my ears and mind. It was just me and my thoughts...and the baseboards.
As I neared the end of my task, and my sense of accomplishment grew, I was reminded of the body of Christ. To me, my task was significant and important. To others, the baseboards will likely go unnoticed. In light of all the work thats been done and all the hours and energy sacrificed, my contribution was minimal. But just the same, every part of the body performs its function, and though mine was less than momentous, it was what I could do with what I've been given.
I finally finished at 10:15pm. Usually, I would expect to feel tired or worn out, but tonight, I felt renewed. Maybe it was seeing the result of the work I had done, or perhaps doing something I knew would help my husband. And while those are the tangible evidence of my time spent painting, I am also aware that my goal to just "be" was still accomplished tonight, despite my propensity to avoid it.
I cleaned my paint brush, returned the supplies to their designated place, turned off all the lights, and stood in the dark silence. My heart and mind were still. Je suis.
Every Saturday morning, we have a workday at our new church building, which usually involves cleaning or small projects. Andy and I try to go if at all possible, especially lately since we'll be (hopefully) moving our services there in just a couple weeks. This is one of those things Andy and I always do together, but I wanted to go this morning even though he is out of town to get started on a project that will ultimately fall on his shoulders: painting the baseboards in our new auditorium.
Andy is a fantastic painter. He's fast, innovative, and meticulous, so it isn't hard to understand why any leftover painting jobs have been assigned to him. However, with so many other things on his plate, he's been putting in a lot of time (read: too much) trying to get everything done.
So I decided to help. I went in this morning with a mission: to get the first coat of primer on the baseboards (which are already mounted, making it much more time consuming to paint). Without going into too much detail, let me explain how this job could possibly take as long as it did. The carpet is already installed, so the floor-baseboard angle had to be taped to avoid painting the carpet. Also, we have wall carpet that extends halfway up the wall (not as weird as it sounds) which is preferably avoided when painting as well. So...that means I had to use a 23 inch edging tool that I slid between the top of the baseboard and the wall carpet in order to get to the very edge of the baseboard without painting the wall...
...it took FOREVER!
This morning, I finished the biggest wall but had to leave to take one of my friends to the airport. So this afternoon, I debated: "I know I said I would just 'be,' but if I don't finish that, it's just more work for Andy, and he already has too much to do." Next thing I knew, I was at the church.
At first I was disappointed in myself. It truly is one of my (more socially acceptable) weaknesses that I will "do" anything before I allow myself to contemplate the thoughts in my head, to process the things that happen in my life. But as I painted, my thoughts slowed, and I began to think about the many people and situations that make up my world. There was no one else there to talk to, and there was no music to distract my ears and mind. It was just me and my thoughts...and the baseboards.
As I neared the end of my task, and my sense of accomplishment grew, I was reminded of the body of Christ. To me, my task was significant and important. To others, the baseboards will likely go unnoticed. In light of all the work thats been done and all the hours and energy sacrificed, my contribution was minimal. But just the same, every part of the body performs its function, and though mine was less than momentous, it was what I could do with what I've been given.
I finally finished at 10:15pm. Usually, I would expect to feel tired or worn out, but tonight, I felt renewed. Maybe it was seeing the result of the work I had done, or perhaps doing something I knew would help my husband. And while those are the tangible evidence of my time spent painting, I am also aware that my goal to just "be" was still accomplished tonight, despite my propensity to avoid it.
I cleaned my paint brush, returned the supplies to their designated place, turned off all the lights, and stood in the dark silence. My heart and mind were still. Je suis.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Je suis
One of the few phrases I remember from my 3+ years of French, it means "I am." Or more accurately, "I am in the state of being." This weekend, I am going to attempt to do just that: be. A few of the significant people in my life are out of town this weekend, and I will miss them all. But in the time that they are gone, I have a specific goal in mind. Yes, I would like to clean my house. And yes, I would like to get to some of those projects that never actually get done. But even more than that, I would just like to step back from the "doing" and allow myself to "be" for a few moments. I don't really know what that will look like; perhaps a long walk with no destination, an evening with a good book and some coffee, a pad of paper and the thoughts in my head...the possibilities are endless. I wish for the familiar beaches I grew up with - to go wander and observe and soak in the beauty. But in their absence, I am certain I will make do.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
One more for mom
I realized that wasn't the greatest picture of the piano lamp to see how nice it looks with the piano, so I took another one this morning for you. I don't know how much you can tell from the picture, but it really brings out the gold stripes of the vase on the right and goes well with the lamp shade on the left. I couldn't have picked a better one myself! : )
Thankyou mom!
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
What you've been missing...
...or at least what I've been meaning to post about. If I were really going to do this right, I would make a separate post for each event, but that sounds too complicated. So here is a conglomerate of pictures describing what I've been up to of late. That said here they are in non-consecutive order:
We tried to go to a Cubs game, but it got rained out, so we just spent a night on the town in Chicago instead (afer getting drenched!)
My mom gave Andy and I this beautiful piano lamp for our one year anniversary, and I just love it! (thanks mom!)
I met the beautiful Evelyn Elizabeth Moorman, Lydia's niece. She is so sweet, and I already brought her some cute clothes to wear. : ) Congrats Ted and Sarah!
On the way back from a concert with Casi and Karen Mattox in Casi's new Mustang convertible - it was really windy, and I didn't have a hair tie in case you were wondering!
I caught them drinking Mountain Dew! (they gave it up for 1 year - but I found out that Karen is on vacation, so it doesn't count...so I had one too.) : )
Sporting the wind-blown look...
The proud new owner of a red '03 Mustang Convertible...funny, now she always wants to take her car everywhere!
Before...
...and after. ( I helped Casi dye her hair...twice. I missed a rather large spot in the back of her head, so we had to go back to the store and get a little bit more hair dye. By the way, if I am scheduled to dye your hair at any time in the near future, this weekend perhaps, please do not be afraid. I am really good at this, promise. Also, do not under any circumstances ask Casi about this.)
Lydia and I went to a jazz club we've been talking about for months, Green Dolphin Street. The band was wonderful, the atmosphere sophisticated yet unpretentious, and the food (even the bar menu!) was fantastic.
Jazz, a good friend, candlelight, and a camera...what more could you ask for?
Also, Andy and I got to visit my family last weekend, which was really nice. It had been a long time since I was home, so I really enjoyed the relaxation, catching up, and of course the Lake.
I'm sure I've forgotten several things, but I dont' have any pictures of those things, so its just as well.
Now for the biggest news of all: I have the day off tomorrow!!! I can't wait to do all the things I've been thinking about every day for the past few weeks. Number #1 on my list is to calm the storm of flowers/weeds outside of my house that is now forming a barricade to the front door. I'm not sure which is weed and which is flower, so my game plan is just to trim everything a little bit until it doesn't look like the plant from "Little Shop of Horrors." That alone should take until at least noon.
We tried to go to a Cubs game, but it got rained out, so we just spent a night on the town in Chicago instead (afer getting drenched!)
My mom gave Andy and I this beautiful piano lamp for our one year anniversary, and I just love it! (thanks mom!)
I met the beautiful Evelyn Elizabeth Moorman, Lydia's niece. She is so sweet, and I already brought her some cute clothes to wear. : ) Congrats Ted and Sarah!
On the way back from a concert with Casi and Karen Mattox in Casi's new Mustang convertible - it was really windy, and I didn't have a hair tie in case you were wondering!
I caught them drinking Mountain Dew! (they gave it up for 1 year - but I found out that Karen is on vacation, so it doesn't count...so I had one too.) : )
Sporting the wind-blown look...
The proud new owner of a red '03 Mustang Convertible...funny, now she always wants to take her car everywhere!
Before...
...and after. ( I helped Casi dye her hair...twice. I missed a rather large spot in the back of her head, so we had to go back to the store and get a little bit more hair dye. By the way, if I am scheduled to dye your hair at any time in the near future, this weekend perhaps, please do not be afraid. I am really good at this, promise. Also, do not under any circumstances ask Casi about this.)
Lydia and I went to a jazz club we've been talking about for months, Green Dolphin Street. The band was wonderful, the atmosphere sophisticated yet unpretentious, and the food (even the bar menu!) was fantastic.
Jazz, a good friend, candlelight, and a camera...what more could you ask for?
Also, Andy and I got to visit my family last weekend, which was really nice. It had been a long time since I was home, so I really enjoyed the relaxation, catching up, and of course the Lake.
I'm sure I've forgotten several things, but I dont' have any pictures of those things, so its just as well.
Now for the biggest news of all: I have the day off tomorrow!!! I can't wait to do all the things I've been thinking about every day for the past few weeks. Number #1 on my list is to calm the storm of flowers/weeds outside of my house that is now forming a barricade to the front door. I'm not sure which is weed and which is flower, so my game plan is just to trim everything a little bit until it doesn't look like the plant from "Little Shop of Horrors." That alone should take until at least noon.
Friday, July 14, 2006
Better late than never
Casi and I making lime-margarita chicken kabobs
Even though its taken me almost two weeks, I still need to prove that I actually planned something, and then it happened exactly how I planned it. To be fair, when I say "I," I mean Casi. But thats completely beside the point. From here on out I'll say we.
We decided to host a 4th of July party at Casi's house this year, complete with swimming pool, a friendly bags competition, a cookout, and fireworks. We had a great time (aside from being bombed by Andy's water balloons at various points throughout the day) and enjoyed a relaxing day together.
We were really excited about the cupcakes!
Soon-to-be parents Ted and Sara (we can't wait!)
Two of the sweetest and most eligible bachelorettes in Chicagoland (Casi and Lydia of course!)
Still newlyweds! : )
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