My halo is hanging a bit crooked now

I have a confession to make. I stole something.

And this isn't the type of confession where I say that when I was five and I really wanted the Dr. Pepper flavored lip smackers at the walmart and my mom wouldn't buy it for me so I stuck it in my pocket and sneaked it around for the next three months coating my lips with yummy dr. pepper flavored chap stick while feeling only a hint of remorse.

No, I stole something recently. Tuesday in fact. Now to define what I did as actual stealing might be a bit extreme, but my actions in taking these items reflect that I intended to masquerade my actions and make off with something that might not really be available for the general public's personal consumption (ahahahaha could i have been more wordy?).

Have you been to Starbucks lately? Have you seen the advertising for "akeelah and the bee"? Have you seen the spelling word cards?

Yep, I stole a set of them.

I gathered them together, scoped out if anyone of importance was watching and shoved them in my purse. I stole spelling bee cards. I'm a nerd. I realize this.

Not only did I steal spelling bee cards from Starbucks but I stole SPECIAL ones. Because these cards have the words and the pre-printed definitions but they also include a special bonus definition that a prior customer or customers had taken the time to write down. I stole vandalized spelling bee cards.

They were so funny to me so I had to steal them. I know, I know, funny spelling bee cards, the nerd points keep racking up.

So now that I have confessed to my stint as a grand larceny-ess, I will share with you a few of my favorite cards.

Editor's note: The cards list winning words from prior national spelling bees, their pronunciation, part of speech, and definition (1), and then there was the "special definition" (2). Note that you may have to pronounce some of these out loud to understand the humor in them. And well if you don't find them funny and question why I do, what can I say, I stole spelling bee cards, my sense of humor is probably a little off to begin with.

Brunneous
1. having a dark brown color
2. the opposite of whiteous

Antediluvian
1. extremely old and antiquated
2. what is said to that cheapskate "diluvian" when he refuses to pony up for the next poker hand
Pococurante
1. indifferent; apathetic
2. a dwarf version of Jimmy Durante

Antipyretic
1. preventing, removing, or allaying fever
2. person who vehemently opposes pie

Shappe
1. a yarn or fabric made of spun silk
2. a dull felt-tip pen in Boston

Argillaceous
1. containing, made of, or resembling clay
2. fond of scottish socks

Pterodactyl
1. any of various extinct flying reptiles of the order Pterosauria that existed during the Jurassic and Cretaceous periods
2. an affront against phonics

Eudaemonic
1. producing happiness
2. slang in NJ for "you are evil"

Character

Character – it has been defined as “who you are when no one is looking.” It defines a person. When everything fades and you are standing before the Lord, your character comes into play. Who you have chosen to be... because, let’s face it, character is a choice. There is not one thing another person can do to form your character. It is in those quiet moments of life when you define who you are... when you make a choice of who you will be.

My friend Katie... Let me tell you about the Katie I know.. Not about attributes, such as her “ridiculously shiny hair” or her Amazonian like frame... but her Character. The very nature of who she is. Now, one can never truly know everything about a person, only God is in this position. People generally build walls to protect themselves. But over the last year, Katie has slowly torn down those walls and I have been able to see who she is. This is the Katie I know:

My friend Katie... that is exactly what she is... A friend. She is a friend in the truest sense of the word. When she gives you her friendship, it is for life. She will be there for you. She will be there to listen, to joke around with, to challenge you and to love you. She is trustworthy. You can confide in her and she will not betray that trust. She is the exact definition of a friend this side of heaven in that she is self sacrificing. I have seen this played out in particular instances, where she will put the love she has for a friend before her own needs.

My friend Katie... She is a fearful person. Aren’t we all... we all have fears and she is no different. But she is fearful and this of the best parts of her character. Now some would argue that being fearful is not a defining attribute; however, I would argue that it depends on the type of fear we are talking about. Without question, she has fears in life, this is for sure. But the fearfulness that I am speaking of is this: She fears the Lord. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. (Proverbs 9:10) And my friend Katie is wise. She is a person that will give solid council. Her dependence on the Lord helps in directing her to make the right choices and she is wise because of that.

My friend Katie... She is not perfect. She has faults. Character flaws if you will... however, one thing, if you haven’t notice by her writing, is that she is very introspective and reflective and she sees her faults. She knows who she is, but she doesn’t use that as an excuse to justify who she is... If she senses that she needs to change something, she tries.

My friend Katie... She has doubts. She is confident, but she also has doubts... insecurities at times. If we are all honest with ourselves, we all have insecurities. Nobody likes to admit it... but we do. Katie is no different. Katie does not have it all together 24 hours a day 7 days a week. Neither do I. I like that about her... as a friend she has been vulnerable at times and true friends are like that... transparent in their thoughts and transparent with their faults.

My friend Katie... is humble. As a matter of fact, she is blushing and tearing as she reads this because she is embarrassed no doubt. If I know her, she is presently feeling like she is undeserving of such praise. And to her my response is: “Good. Then maybe your head won’t get too big.” ;)

My friend Katie... She loves me. She accepts me for who I am, for my faults... I truly believe that the Lord gives you a few friendships in life that are special, that are true. Her friendship has been one of them.

Her character is noble and pure and while she is not perfect and she may let me down at times... that’s okay... she is my friend; like her, I am a friend for life.

Do you know the Katie I know? If so, you have been blessed.

(Posted by Ben)

Internet, have I told you that I have great younger sisters?

These appeared at my work yesterday.



THANK YOU Kristen, they did make me smile and I showed them off with excitement.
I have the BEST younger sisters. Love you Kristen and Kelli.

Choices

We make choices everyday, some happen without even a moment of thought. We choose to ignore the alarm clock and steal a few extra moments of sleep. We choose to have that third cup of coffee ignoring that it feeds our caffeine addiction. We choose to spin the dial on the radio and tune out the morning talk show or let the same CD play over and over again as we drive to work. We choose to smile or remain stoic at people we pass in the hallway. We choose to let things cause us to react to them. We choose how we will react to them.

Our days are made up of choices, big ones, small ones, insignificant ones, but choices all the same. We might not be able to control what we face every day, we might not be able to control the situations that come to us, but we can choose our response, our actions, how we will live today.

This morning I made a choice, a conscience choice to trust God even when I don't think I can. I choose to be joyful even when I am sad and frustrated. I choose to not let stress rule my life because I can only do what I can do and I can only do what God has equipped me to do. I choose to not have to know all the answers to all my questions but trust that God does. I choose to know that He loves me more than I will ever be able to comprehend and nothing on this earth can change that. I chose faith over fear, love over doubt, grace over guilt, and that whatever I walk through today I will do with the presence of my Creator, my Lord, and my Father who has seen it all and knows that I can handle it with Him by my side.

I choose Him, not just the idea of Him, not just the comfort of Him, but all that living a life with Him entails. I choose the uncomfortable. I choose the unknown. I choose the struggles and trials. I choose the opportunities for grace and mercy and refinement. I choose the pain and the tears that come with the bumps and bruises. I choose to trust Him in silence. I choose to rejoice in each day that He gives me. I choose to love those around me even when they hurt me because He loves me when I hurt Him. I choose to show mercy to those who don’t deserve it because I am showered with undeserving mercy every minute.

And lastly I choose to forgive myself every time I choose something other than the above. I choose to remind myself that each moment I can make a new choice. I can choose joy over frustration. I can choose love over apathy. I can choose to change because every moment is new, every choice is mine to make.

So what do you chose?

P.S. If you haven't taken a moment to check out the last post, I highly recommend it. It isn't often I get to highlight the talents of my wonderful friends and there is an amazing song down below that is a must listen.

Your Grace Meets Me

Before you encounter this post make sure you scroll down and read the one right before it. Met By Grace.

Ok first I must say that I have AMAZING friends. AMAZING.

One in paticular is gifted beyond understanding in the area of music. He is a singer, a worship leader, and a songwriter. And all those areas came together to create the following. I will take a moment to brag on him and say that he is wildly talented and gifted and that his heart is in the perfect place for this gift to be used. He started writing this song this afternoon and had it finished and recorded by this evening. And it is AMAZING. Really, I cried as I listened to it. What I could feel and know in my head and heart, he can put into song and express something that I am not able. That is amazing to me.

Backstory: I wrote my last post, obviously something in it sparked something in Steve (that was absolutely already there) and jes and ben volunteered him to write a song about it. Steve did more than just that. He took this idea, this concept and he put it into something of his own.

Have I said how much I love this song. Really. LOVE IT.

So here you go, a dual blogging endeavor:


Powered by Castpost

(little hint: if you are having trouble with the song being jumbled, press pause wait for it to load a bit then hit play)

Lyrics:
Sometimes I find myself hanging over the edge of this life
Not knowing at all just where I should go
and sometimes i feel like everyone around thinks that I'm so high
when the truth is I've never felt so low
The reality of the situation at hand is this
the moods that I have been in lately are just a little bit hit and miss
and there is only one thing in this life I know

And Your Grace meets me
as I stand once again to face myself
And Your grace meets me
no matter what pain I have felt
All of this sin I have
that wont come clean
is washed away in that moment
That God's grace meets me

I've been lucky in life and hopeful in love but never both at the same time
been down in the mud feeling dirty and unclean
been lifted by friends and dropped once again dont they see the hell that I am in
sometines a smile just isnt what it seems
you see i can cry on the phone or cry all alone
but the answer for this cancer is high above on His throne

And Your Grace meets me
as I stand once again to face myself
And Your grace meets me
no matter what pain I have felt
All of this sin I have
that wont come clean
is washed away in that moment
That God's grace meets me

Met by grace

In the garden, hiding with shame, eyes opened for the first time to a world outside of perfection.

God’s grace met them.


Under the oppression of slavery, hated by all those around them, they are scared, fleeing as the waters stand on edge, hovering, waiting to collapse.

God’s grace met them.


A forsaken race, a forsaken woman, living in lies, she came for water and sought to find life.

God’s grace met her.


A favored friend, passionate, dedicated, but when the moment came he faltered and denied, now he falls ashamed, feeling like he has squandered his service.

God’s grace met him.



A simple girl covered in muck. The sin won’t wash away. Longing for love; looking for acceptance. She knows she will never be able to stand before Him clean.

His standard is holiness. His justice is righteous. Perfection is all He can allow, to not do so is to forsake who He is.

She tries to clean herself. She tries to seek penance for her life. And yet the grime holds fast. Once there, it cannot be washed away by any means of her own hands. She realizes she is at a loss to offer anything of value, to even be able to approach Him.

His love is true; greater than any can possess. For His creation is precious to Him. His mercy is whole. His forgiveness is complete. His hatred is for the grime, not the hands that are covered with it.

She cannot attain His holiness, He cannot bend His standard. And so she stands at a chasm. The depth of the division is beyond their natures, her of sin and His of righteousness. She cannot move, she cannot act, trapped in the muck of her sin. But born from His love and satisfying His righteousness comes forth the answer.

He, alone, overcomes the chasm.

God’s grace meets her.

Revived Question of the Week

What ONE word would you use to describe yourself. But there is a condition, the word must begin with the first letter of your first name.

And . . . . . comment now.

Thinking . . . . .

and yet nothing is coming out.

Burning questions:
Move?
Job?
Life?

Funny thing is that I'm pretty sure each of you are dealing with some form of the questions above. Don't you love how life is so individual and yet so much the same.


Sorry so brief today (ha, bet you didn't think I could actually type this few words). Looking for inspiration, anybody want to share?

Happy Easter Weekend

My last post reminded me of a former post I wrote back in August. Funny how your mind can follow the same line of thought through many different paths but they are all surrounding the same issue.

This post was actually something I wrote in a notebook a few years back. This thought just got stuck in my head about scars and what they represent. All of a sudden I was just writing and this is what came out.

Scars
Additional thoughts on last post (this post is pretty self explanatory by the title)

Make sure you read the comments on both, as there are some great thoughts from others.

Happy Easter everyone. I hope you have a wonderful time with family and friends.

Slavery

The chains are heavy, the bracelets tight.

Bound, chained, shackled, constrained.

This is all she knows, this is all she’s ever known.

Slavery.

Bondage.

It consumes her, the chains, the burden. For she is not her own, but promised to another. The chains signify her possession, her ownership. Slavery is all she knows, slavery is how she lives.

She is pulled here and there, led by the hand of the one who grasps her bonds. Chains do not push, they only pull. Dragged from place to place, led into each situation, forced to follow the will of another.

Her hands and feet are bloodied by her struggle against the bonds. Cuts and scrapes mark her resistance, but the binds hold strong, her battle is in vain.

And so she resigns herself to her fate. The chains are here to stay, the bondage is her own.

Faintly she hears a whisper, a voice on the wind, or maybe a voice somewhere deep within herself.

You are free

Straining she tries to make out the words. They can’t be what she thinks. That isn’t possible. She dismisses the hope that threatens to swell within her. The binds tighten; the chains jerk her back to reality.

Later the same voice, the same words, but louder, persistent.

You are free

She need not strain this time, she hears the words clearly. Disbelief and doubt crowd out whatever hope could grow from those words. She still feels the chains, the shackles, the words are a lie.

Again they come, louder and quicker with urgency and strength.

You are free

YOU are free

You are FREE

YOU ARE FREE

Crying now she pleads that the words could be true. Where once a blackness of resignation existed the flicker of hope sparks. Could it be true? Could it be real? Is it even possible?

But that spark is quickly extinguished as she once again feels the weight of the chains, the pull of the one who holds them, the pain of the struggles, and the grief of the realization that she is still a slave.

The voice comes again. Quiet, caring, calling from the depths of her heart.

Look

Confusion sets in. Look? she asks herself. To see the chains, to be reminded of her bondage, to see the scars, the pain, the reality. What an evil thought, what a careless request.

Again the voice.

Look

Without hope, in quiet desperation she allows her eyes to lower, to glimpse the chains.

With disbelief and shock she realizes there are no chains, there are no shackles. Only scars remain, dulled by time, a remnant of what once was there.

But freedom isn’t found in a lack of chains. For she was bound just as tightly, she was burdened just as greatly without the shackles. Even though the iron had long left her hands and feet, the weight remained.

Again the voice comes, this time gentle and leading.

You are free

Can words be enough? Can it be true? For the first time she lets hope grow, overwhelming her, opening her eyes, her heart. The truth overwhelms her.

She had chosen slavery; she had willfully allowed herself to follow the same path she had trudged for so long. Freedom had been hers to claim for so long and yet she had chosen to return to the bondage. She was a slave to sin, putting the chains on herself. Allowing herself to be in bondage to the very thing she hated. She returned to her first love forsaking the One who freed her from those bonds in the first place. She was free, able to choose whom she will serve, and yet she found herself turning from the throne of grace and the path of righteousness to return to the filth of what she once was. Choosing slavery to sin for so long that she forgot freedom was already hers. She was a slave to the one who has no power over her, a slave to self, to sin.

She is free.

She has been free.

All she has to do is claim it.

And now she follows another, choosing to give her life, to find in Him a new freedom.

She chooses the life of a slave, of a servant, binding herself to Him, choosing to return to the role of a servant even though she has been set free.

She is a servant by choice not by constraint.

She is free, free in Him.




It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.
Galatians 5:1

Direction?

Looking for direction. Looking for a "sign".

I'm at a crossroads in my career (ahahahah - did i just say career?), in my living situation and location, and then just life in general. Do I keep on the path I've been on, do I merge one way or the other, or do I just hop onto a different road all-together and head in an unknown direction? These are my options.

The problem is that all the road signs I'm looking at resemble the one up above: broken, showing conflicting information, useless.

So I'm waiting for direction.

"Brooding Yumminess"

Recently the world at large or at least my little definition of the world at large has discovered a special treasure to my being.

PRIDE & PREJUDICE

I was introduced to this wonderful story when I was in high school and read at least 30+ books my senior year (yep I'm smart and stuff). It was the next year in college that I was introduced to the movie version (the best version in my opinion) that encompassed the entire book and was 5 hours long. After one lazy saturday of watching this movie I was in love. In love with the story all over again, in love with the movie, and in love with Mr. Darcy.

I'm secure to admit I have a crush on a literary character (he is in the company of many other great literary men including Mr. Knightly in Emma (Jane Austen again), Edward Ferrars in Sense and Sensibility (Jane Austen again - see a pattern here?), and then Gilbert Blythe (of Anne of Green Gables)).

So JCol posted last week about P&P and I happen to mention that Mr. Darcy possessed a "brooding yumminess" quality about him. I was asked to explain what brooding yumminess actually meant and while it cannot be defined in words, it can be with pictures. Also if you watch the film you will understanding the phrase.

So here is my visual description of "brooding yumminess"

Now that would be a gift basket I would want

Sometimes I wonder who thinks up the things included in gift baskets. You’ve seen them at the hospital, at the florist, at the grocery store (high class ones there). Whose job is it to determine what is given to a person in a given circumstance. For instance: New Baby = Stuffed Animal, Giant Bottle, and some sort of rattley thing; Sick = Stuffed Animal, Giant can of soup, and a Kleenex product; Birthday = Stuffed Animal, balloon, Giant blow up cake, and some little birthday knick knack.

What if those people who made up the gift baskets really thought about the person they were making them for? And then someone could actually give mothers day gift baskets that had things mothers liked. For instance: slippers, ever mom needs a good pair of slippers; chocolate, moms love chocolate; ear plugs, for the moms of children; antacid, for the moms who chook mac and cheese every night; and then the best gift of all paintball guns, for the mom who really knows how to peg the kid with his hand in the cookie jar.

Spring/Summer is here

It has been warm this week, in the 80's and it is supposed to reach 90 by Sunday. Welcome to Texas SprinSummer. It all meshes together so quickly you don't really notice the change from one to the other (except for the sweat - or glistening if you are a girl).

Alas, I wish for a vacation home where spring comes slowly and quietly and you get to enjoy it for a while. And that vacation home would be somewhere with all four seasons. So I've decided that my perfect vacation home would be in Winter Park Real Estate. That just sounds nice and cozy.

Collision

She hides.

She hides from the world, she hides from those closest to her, and she even hides from God.

She hides in plain sight. Diverting attention from the things she wants unseen. Masks, disguises, anything to conceal what she doesn’t want seen, doesn’t want known.

She hides behind an image of strength. Strength will hide her fear, her vulnerability, and her weaknesses. Strength is the answer.

And so strength begins to form, strength that has no power behind it. It is a façade, a charade, and yet she begins to believe it is true. The strength hardens her and she begins to think she knows best. The vulnerability and fear fade under the shadows that aren’t even real. Slowly she begins to believe this is her true self: the strong, the untouchable, the proud, and the self sufficient.

Strength is her answer, strength will hide the truth. All this just to hide. Believing in lies because admitting the truth, having it seen and known is unbearable.

But shadows fade, and charades falter.

So the One who made her comes. She stands so proud before Him, sure of who she is, strong in herself. And a great collision occurs, the strength of her against the strength of Him. One is shadow, the other is light.

And in that collision all those things she clung to, all those things she hid behind are torn away, pulled from her grasp. She fights with the strength that she has gained; she fights to remain in shadow, hidden from sight. She fights and she loses and she is left bare, weak, and vulnerable.

The very thing she feared is now the thing she must face.

Her strength became her weakness.

Broken and bare, weak and unworthy, she clings to the only One she can. She clings to the One that sees her for all she is, for everything she has tried to hide. Her tears begin to fall and shame fills her heart, for all that she wanted to keep from Him, He now sees.

And in His embrace she finds strength, not to hide her weakness but to fill it. How wrong she was in her thinking, seeing weakness as something to be ashamed of, as something to hide.

It was weakness that He wanted. It was her weakness that would lead to Him.

She finds that real strength is only really found in weakness and that is the product of surrender. So for her to be truly strong she had to be weak and to be fully weak she must surrender it all.

And so in the surrendering, she finds more than weakness but weakness filled with strength, His strength.

And so she stands once again strong,
not by her own strength,
not covered in shadows.

She stands filled with His strength.
She stands in the light of Him.
She stands because He holds her.




Your grace is sufficient for me
Your strength is made perfect
When I am weak
And all that I cling to
I lay at Your feet
Your grace is sufficient for me

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
2 Corinthians 12: 9-10

For your reading pleasure

I'm staring at a blank page willing the words to come but they won't. So I'm stepping back and waiting for the "moment".

But I do want to highlight a SUPER post by my good friend Ben over at Married in Minnesota. Go check it out, give him some comment lovin, and enjoy the writings and wisdom of a great guy.

In the meantime

I promise I will have a post dealing with my last post and the questions on strength, weaknesses, and worry.

But in the meantime (and by that I'm saying that I can't get what is in my head on paper in a way that you will understand it) I offer you the following trip down "what in the world is she talking about" lane.

"i was just talking to a friend last night and admitting to her some things and realized that I am indeed absofreakinlutely CRAZY, like thinking that certain things are reality when they are in fact NOT, this being the clinical diagnosis for psychosis, and then that made me sad, and she said to me the best two words in the world "me too" as in she does it too, HALLELUIA, I am not crazy alone, in fact if I gathered all the double-x chromosomed people in the world and admitted to them what I admitted to her I would hear them all chant "me too" and I would feel a sense of relief to know that if I am crazy then I am at least in large if not always good company"

Mulling things over . . . .

So here is an opportunity for audience participation.

YIPEE

Ok, so you might not get all that excited but at least play along . . . .

Please answer the following questions with as much detail as you desire:

1. What is your biggest strength?
2. What is your biggest weakness?
3. What is your biggest worry?

So I never said they would be easy questions. Feel free to go anonymous if you are a little gunshy about attaching your name to something so transparent. But please answer. I'm mulling over a forth coming post and these questions play right into it so I'm interested to hear your answers.

I'm a fraek (but I'm in good company)

Well April Fools day is a day of reckoning here at my school. And our wonderful, good sport, loves a good laugh elementary principal is always our victim.

Last year we went pretty far with the prank and this year we aimed to keep the level of prankdom high. So below you have our little ode of love to a most amazing woman.

(Prelude: My elementary principal is the brain child behind our dresscode of skirts and hose. She has kept this standard high since the school began and we have all fallen in line with our hose and skirts (with a bit of complaining along the way but we love her so we complain on in humor). She is leaving at the end of this school year and we joked that we would all burn our hose in effigy when she left. So this is a special shout out to her love for hose and our love for pranks.)

Just in case you can't read it:
Twas 98 days since Christmas and all through the school,
No one expected an April Fools.
The stockings were hung from the ceiling with care,
In hopes that Mrs. Morse soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their bed,
The mommies were up here . . . . being sneaky instead.
When you open this door, there might be a clatter
So come on in, and see what's the matter . . . .

Because that is how she ghetto rolls . . . .

Bianca (or Beyonka) is back and in full swing with a new blog.

Check her out here: Revolutionary

If you note the date it is April 3, which means that it was April 1 on Saturday and well if you were around a year ago you know that April 1 has a special place in my heart. Check back later for some pics to show you why.

So . . . .

So I once thought of being a party planner. I'm organized, can multi-task, can see the big picture and also all the small details, so party planning sounded like a good fit. And you get to go to parties for a career. Can't beat that.

But then I have a friend who is a party planner and it is a ton of work. She also caters and makes cakes so that is an added task to tackle for an event. She is amazing and has all these tools of the trade that I would never think of. She has dishes for any event (packed in detergent buckets no less with dryer sheets inbetween each dish to protect them), she has all kinds of serving platters and utensils, she has Commercial Folding Tables, and all other sorts of items that makes her a star party planner. I don't have any of these things so I would not be prepared to be a planner.

So then I thought I could work at a little shop. You know the ones that sell cute little items and have fun bags and tissue paper and I could work in a quaint town on the square and sell people cute things. But then I have another friend whose parents do this and it is a hard life. People are so fickle these days that small shops have to work hard to make it.

Then I thought I could work for a florist. How fun would it be to arrange flowers and deliver them. Everyone chooses to send flowers at some poing in their life and I could be the friendly face that delivers them. And now is the flower sending time, what with Easter and Mother's Day coming up. I'm sure that area florists do big business for all the kids who want to send mothers day flowers. But then I thought about the hours you would have to work and I don't even know how to make all those beautiful flower arrangements.

So alas I am still on the hunt for a job that sounds fun, is exciting, and uses my skills.