Top Ten Books

A friend asked me to give him a book suggestion recently. Yeah, that was a hard one. For the most part, I really hate when people ask me for book suggestions or even my favorite book. It's like asking me to choose a favorite tea cup from a collection that you've carefully chosen and loved throughout many years aka Impossible! So this friend modified his request saying, "give me your top ten books."

I'm still thinking to myself: That's impossible, but then I opened up my Goodreads account and started scrolling through my books and I found some treasured titles. So in no particular order except in the order that they came to my mind are some titles below.



Hinds' Feet in High Places by Hannah Hurnard
~ this book really fits every Christian's walk with Christ and I felt that I could relate super well to the main character Much-Afraid because I feel that I live most of my life in fear (even if people call me brave).

Embrace Me by Lisa Samson (this is not a romance at all)
~ a powerful story of redemption and radically living out Jesus' love

Leota's Garden by Francine Rivers
~ a tale that weaves together different generations and the deep influence we can have on each other.

The Myth of a Christian Nation by Gregory Boyd
~ this book woke me up to a lot of the assumptions that I made about America and how most of them aren't true. it made me think and question the world around me a bit more.

Kisses from Katie by Katie Davis
~ a girl around our age who is living in Africa with her 8 or so adopted daughters. her life challenges mine, but I also needed to realize that I am just as called to my life here and now as she is to her own life. we are just serving differently.

Jesus Calling by Sarah Young
~ a daily devotional that writes God's voice in first person. It's so nice to feel that He speaking personally and lovingly just to me.

Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott
~ this lady is one of my favorite writers because she is real. In this book, she talks about the art and struggle of writing. I've scribbled notes in the margin and one of my friends has, too!

Succulent Wild Woman by SARK
~ this book title might make you raise your eyebrows, but for me, it helps me be happy to be me. It's a fun book with colorful fonts and personal stories.

The Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis
~ I read a lot of books and this one is short. But just like The Screwtape Letters, it really left a lasting impression on me about what the separation of man from God can look like and how chilling it really is.

One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp
~ This book is a very special one to me. There's a God story here. But the true beauty of this book is that it is poetic prose that focuses on the significance of walking through life with a deep and sometimes desperate thankfulness.

It's terrible to narrow down years of good experiences with amazing authors and classic stories. I mean I didn't even mention The Lord of the Rings or The Chronicles of Narnia or The Great Gatsby or the Lord of the Flies or the books written by Fanny Burney, Robin Gunn, Rachael Phillips, Sandra Byrd, Deborah Raney, or Jane Austen. But you see, I decided to choose not necessarily my favorite books but some of the ones that have had the most impact on my life.

Also, my current reads are the following: Gilead by Marilynne Robinson, Les Miserables by Victor Hugo, and The Cup of Our Lives by Joyce Rupp.

What to do....

Recently, I've been wondering if I should discontinue my use of blogs since I haven't been very good at blogging recently.

I've been doing other things.

That's no excuse.

I'll show you some things I've been up to.

1. I turned 23 years old.

2. I call myself a basement-dweller since I've been renting a bedroom in a basement from a family--a great family by the way.

3. I toured the Oliver Mansion on monday because I wanted to.

here

4. I finished my rough draft of a novel.

5. I'm in season 9 of Friends.

here

6. I've been reading LOTS of books. Here's one written by a friend of mine.
The Return of Miss Blueberry by Rachael Phillips

Find out more and Buy it!

7. And then I've been going to Von Strantz gigs. This band is awesome. Check them out on facebook! Or listen to some of their music!

8. Oh, yeah. And I've been dating some different men. Oh, do I have stories. Perhaps some of those will end up here.

So there you have it. I've been keeping far too busy and I haven't even mentioned the babysitting, nannying, house-cleaning, volunteering. And I've been thinking a lot about what kind of adventures I'd like to live. Maybe that will be a future post!

Captivation: Rest

Rest. It's often forgotten or over-looked or pushed for later, saying "I can rest when I'm dead." I've heard others say that phrase and I've even repeated it to myself.

We beg for simplicity. We try to remind ourselves to simplify--to downsize--to minimize. Then, the note gathers dust and life whizzes by.

here

We dream of finding rest and contentment in idyllic places--tropical paradises.

here

We like to pretend that our lives spin out of our control--not by our bidding, but by the fates of the universe.

here

But what if we took hints from babies.

here

They have got their priorities straight. We need rest. Yes, we can rest when we die. But I want to live life to fullest and that requires quality rest. Living fully includes resting fully.

So it's time to make a new list and live in a new way. And make room for rest.

here

In light of this, what are you doing today to rest?

I'm here writing this blogpost. I'm attending a friend's junior recital tonight. I slept late this morning and went running at lunchtime. I built in this day of rest into my crazy busy schedule because I believe God knew something about us when he modeled resting on the 7th day.

Happy Rest!

Captivation: Restless Roving and Wild Whimsy

Lost like a feather in the wind. Roaming like a kite without a string. Wishing on missing eyelashes and unlucky pennies. Desiring, yearning, crying out for more.

found here

And searching for this something more.

Looking in the mirror, and seeing Discontentment staring into or out of your own eyes.

Gosh, darn it. Glare at Mr. Discontentment riling up your life. Oh, he's good and nice creating a stirring for not settling for less. But sometimes...the adventure that he tells you is in another country or in another state is sitting beside you on the couch.

Did you just glance to your side looking for adventure? Well, that's most certainly a good start. Glance again. From my seat, a book splits open prompted so by the leaning of Reading Like A Writer and my Verizon LG cell phone. All of this captured in the purple sheen of my half full water bottle. And look! You can even see what I saw. Okay, the purple sheen isn't showing up as much as it ought, but I promise it's there.

But I haven't even mentioned the best part. When I walked into this cafe, every customer lifted their heads to blandly acknowledge my presence. Oh, under the eye of this uncaring audience, I wanted to dart right back out of the door.

But, I didn't.

Instead, my eyes skirted around the already occupied tables looking for a little nook to fill with myself. And I found this couch already occupied and I asked the silver haired luncher with black round framed glasses if I could share this little couch with her.

Oh, wait! Let me tell you of the book that lays open beside me. It is a ridiculous book. It goads giggles and chases harsh or worried looks away. And before I know it; I desperately want to leap from my comfy little couch and dance on the tables.

Want me to promise that I won't do it?

A day is coming when I shall dance on a table. In some packed establishment. Of course, this is not exactly my scene. Yet, there are times when life thirsts for wild whimsy. This looks to be more my thing.

found here

And if I'm hearing correctly. The world is parched!

Here are some ideas to help you along with filling this thirst in yourself and the world. Please don't forget to grin gargantuously (i suppose that isn't a word, but it's having the right influence upon my face).

Roll down your windows when driving in the rain.
Doodle on the bottoms of your shoes.
Pretend you're a secret agent when you leave the house.
Talk to strangers (sometimes that scares me--but it's never been a bad experience)
Wear wild patterns together that people will question.
Dance instead of walking
Prance instead of running

what makes you feel wild? or makes you want to laugh loudly? or puts sparkles in your eyes! Please do share with me!

invest

Investment in anything is expensive. Investment needn't be money or time, but it can be both. Although money invested can change the way you budget, time requires much more heart investment.

Be wise where you place your investments--especially your life investments. But, don't take this warning as reason to not invest. Just because ice cream can make you fat doesn't mean you shouldn't eat it. To not eat ice cream occasionally is to lose the sweet flavor melting across your tongue. And that experience should be traded for none!

Investment enriches life. And the risky ones sharpen the flavor of success. So choose. And invest your life into something worthwhile.

to jillian

I really should be sleeping. But I can't. My nerves are something. My eyes are dry. My stomach gets fluttery. And the house is quiet...so full of sleepers. But I cannot sleep. I just feel plain weird.

A dear friend of mine marries tomorrow to a man who is God filled and laughter giving. Watching their friendship and dating relationship develop has been awe-inspiring. I am left with crashing memories and quiveringly silent giggles. The growth that I've seen in my friend's life leaves me joyous for her and opens the desire in me for the same thing.

This week, I have entered the wedding vortex. I am not my own. I walk and talk at the bride's bidding and happily so! I want to fit their vision.

As a bridesmaid, I desire to support this new couple to the best of my ability. I am part of the witness that they ask me to stand beside them "in sickness and in health" type of way. I know that's what the groom and bride vow to each other. However, as a community, we vow these things to them as well.

People need community. Support. Friendship. Affirmation. We can't do it alone. And I am a part of this group. And I'm honored to be so and I desire to continue in this relationship with intentionality and honesty.

Jillian, I vow to encourage you, make you giggle, and drink tea with you. I plan to write you, visit you, and facebook you. And throughout life, I desire to always be pointing to Jesus Christ on the happy days and the sad days. I support your marriage.

Now, I really ought to try to sleep. My eyes are feeling stingy. My adrenalin seems to have slowed. Tomorrow promises to be long.

Captivation: Ruth

Like every other little girl in my Sunday school class, I wanted to find a Bible story heroine to emulate. Esther was too fancy and dramatic for me. My sister already shared judge Deborah’s name so I couldn’t choose her. Sarah laughed at God—probably not a good example to follow. And then, I met Ruth.

She shared my grandmother’s name. She was loyal, persistent, faithful, trusting, and lovely. In times of difficulty rather than choose the security of her father’s home and possible remarriage, she bound herself to Naomi. Why would she do that? Naomi freed her, but Ruth persisted. Why would Ruth choose to go to Bethlehem and possibly never return to her people? Why would Ruth choose to be the distrusted foreigner and the willing servant of Naomi? Why would Ruth choose Yahweh?

I didn’t know. I wanted to know. And so every year, I come back to the story of Ruth. And each time, I love her more. To me, Ruth lives out the definition of a Proverbs 31 woman although for the majority of her story we only know her as a widow. Life has been hard for her; yet, she still chooses to trust in Naomi and ultimately Yahweh.

My sophomore year at Bethel sitting under a mosquito net in Jarabocoa, Dominican Republic, I threw myself into the Bible. Rather than being a part of the Bethel experience like all of my friends, I lived with a Dominican family, struggled with a new language, and taught preschoolers in this new language. It was hard. I thought I would love every second of it. I didn’t. Paul’s letters comforted me even from 2000 years away. And Ruth, she gave me perspective.

I saw her working the fields of Boaz missing her family and the land where she was accepted. I saw Ruth’s tears that surely sprinkled the ground of the fields in her weaker moments as she realized that she would never return to Moab. When people called her cruel names, I recognized her resolute tensing of jaw and her eyes trained forward. I felt joy bloom in my own heart as Boaz showed her favor.

And I knew that in less than three months, I would return to my family, my country, my comfort zone—but forever leave Ruth in her foreign land. No longer would I deal with culturally confusing and bemusing things, but Ruth was destined to continue her struggle. Yet, Ruth had new hopes and dreams founded in this land where she would still always be stamped a foreigner simply because of her physical appearance. Ruth was different. So was I—in the D. R. She comforted me with her steadfastness. She set an example of cheerful obedience. She caused me to ask the question, “Would I voluntarily leave my family and culture forever to follow God?”

I don’t know. I do know that I desire to surrender the entirety of my life to Yahweh. If that means truly fulfilling the meaning of the name Barbara, so be it. As 2 Corinthians 3:18 says, “And we, with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory which comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.” I want to live a life unveiled before man and God so that all may see my transformation into His image.

Ruth lived out quiet surrender of her own desires. For most of my life, I have hated the word “surrender”. To me, it was weakness. To me, it meant allowing others to call you mean names. No, I wanted to be a strong, independent woman. Imagine my surprise when I looked over my life and realized that every good thing in my life came after I surrendered.

Ruth surrendered her old life. She resigned whatever reputation she had in her own land. Ruth submitted her hopes of marriage to a Moab man when she left. She yielded to her mother-in-
law’s dreams of home. Voluntarily, Ruth relinquished the security of her culture.

God noted all of this. He raised her up. He gave her Boaz. He blessed their marriage
with children. And then, God permitted her to be a part of the bloodline for Jesus.

When I see Ruth’s life and her voluntary surrender, I recognize a woman that I want to emulate. As a side note, Ruth’s name means “friendship” stemming from Hebrew. I wonder if her name was always Ruth or if she was renamed.

courtesy of Loaves&Fishes

Gratitude

Thankfulness is the kind of thing that just strikes you in the gut when you least expect it. Chilling in the car, driving through the hills to my hometown, I'm just blown over by the absolute contrast of the trees against the sky. My heart lifts - ballooned by thankfulness. I have so much to be thankful for.

I watched Zombieland this week. Not the best movie, but it does leave a good feeling in your toes. One of the rules shared in the movie to survive the zombie infestation is simple. Enjoy the little things. EnJOY the little things.

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That's where attitude and gratitude and gratefulness come in. Life stinks, right? Well, choose to focus on those small little things. For example, I'm swamped with papers all due the same day (yeah, I know. what prof would do that?! Three of mine). In which case, I just have to choose to enjoy using my favorite pen as I read stacks of journal articles and scribble all over them. A pen is such a little thing, but it gives me cause to be thankful.

If you read this today, then please enjoy the little things. But, I'm actually hoping that you don't read this today (Thanksgiving Day) - why? Because I think you should be out, enjoying people in your life that love you best. Or maybe you ought to just be loving others better than you've been loved.

May you choose Gratitude always.

Living Lovely

Hands on the steering wheel and eyes trained on the road, I sat slouched in the driver’s seat headed towards home for a wedding. One of my best friends from high school sat next to me and her boyfriend lounged behind her in the backseat. Conversation flowed easily around school activities and life as we tried to make up for the months of minimal conversation and no visits. Sitting next to {J}, I could not help but notice that she and her boyfriend always seemed to be touching. Nothing was inappropriate. They just reveled in the other’s presence. An hour away from our destination, {J} climbed into the backseat with her boyfriend {P}. Suddenly, I became chauffer. I took the opportunity to ask them, “What have been the most challenging and growing thing about your relationship?” {P} thought for a moment and replied, “I have never been so known by another human being. It’s both good and terrifying.”

Reading through Crazy Love by Francis Chan, a chapter that resonated deeply with me used this title, “When You’re in Love.” As far as I know, I have never been in love. Yet, I see what love looks like. My mother is forever serving the widows on my street by doing chores for them, bringing them food, and just visiting them. That is love. My father sits on the couch every night and rubs my mother’s feet. That is love. The chapter gave the example of Grandma Clara who spent many hours in prayer and how just the sight of that space “would bring joy-filled tears and a deep anticipation of the next morning spent kneeling in His presence” (Chan 100). Upon reading that, I circled it and wrote in the margin, “May I be like this please?” During the summer, I delighted in spending hours with Jesus. One specific occasion, my cousins grumbled at the amount of time I had spent in devotion to my Lord Jesus. I could only smile and say, “This time is so good because during the school year I just don’t have the amount of time that I want to spend with Jesus.”

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When people see {J} and {P} together, their affection is apparent. If people cannot see their exchanged small smiles and eye connections, they can most definitely see their desire to be always touching. This is how I want to be with Jesus. I want my love for Him to be full of small smiles, heart connections, and hand holding.

Part of loving is giving. It means serving your neighbors, your friends, your spouse, and your co-workers. In the chapter entitled “Your Best Life … Later”, Chan talks about giving liberally and generously and God will bless it. With a red pen, I boxed this paragraph in writing beside it, “What does this look like?” Truly, I want to know what it is to give liberally and totally as often as possible. Giving of yourself and loving your neighbors is not easy. You have to go out of your way to find a way to serve those around you. When my family first moved into a new neighborhood, we knew no one. People did their own thing. Yet, when winter rolled around, my mom began a secret mission. When it snowed, we all bundled up and shoveled our elderly neighbors’ driveways. We were eventually found out, but not before we earned the name “Snow Angels.” My mother always had time to serve our neighbors. Now that I am not at home, I have to find new ways to serve. I don’t live in a neighborhood, but I do live in a community of a dormitory.

I deeply desire to be obsessed with Jesus and His heart. Francis Chan gives a “Profile of the Obsessed” in a chapter. With each section, I have underlined and scribbled notes by sections – each a plea that I might become a picture of this profile. Yet, it is so scary. Of course, I do not become obsessed in one day. It’s a step by step process of love. My father tells me often, “I love your mother more today than I did yesterday and even on our wedding day.” I always ask, “Really?” I just cannot believe that love can keep growing. My dad responds emphatically to my doubting question with a firm “yes”. If my father knew the difficulties, he would face in his marriage to my mom when they first started out he wouldn’t have been able to deal with it. Step by day, my dad loves my mom more deeply because of this daily journey. Human love is very different than the perfect love of a savior; however, this earthly love and examples of it from my parents have hugely influenced me to love more like Jesus in my own life.

Forever, I seem to disgust myself with my selfishness. Living in a family, you are always given a chance to serve family members. College is such a me-focused place. Of course, homework should be finished. Sleep is necessary. When I have the opportunity to serve, school seems to interfere. A lot of people would probably describe me as loving; yet, I know that I have so far to go. I desire to live in the Spirit and love people as Jesus did. If I love Jesus, generosity and obsession shall follow. Already, I love Jesus and I am generous while occasionally being obsessive. Of course, I want to be crazy in love with Jesus – that’s different than being a good person or good Christian.

I might as well be a 12-year-old boy

I find farting hilarious. Yes, I'm one of those people. Perhaps, you think it's gross. I think it's funny. It causes such awkward and amusing situations. And this is not the first time that I've talked about farting. Curious? Yeah, I thought so. Just go search the word "fart" in the above search box for my blog. You know you want to.

If that story is not enough. Then, you need to go check out this link for more reading on farting.
Pull my finger. Oh, I'm sorry. That was immature. (The link is in the phrase, though, so go click it)

A friend and I went to Barnes and Noble late one night. I found this book.

It's amazing that we made it out of that book store alive. I was crying I was laughing so very hard. There are stories from confirmed farters. There are stories from those who are married to Farters and from those who were innocent by-standers. Yes, I just turned the word "fart" into a noun. Life just got a bit more funny.

Have a lovely day! Don't forget to fart.

Giving Life

Do you give blood? I give blood. No, not every time. When I can, I give blood. Generally when I tell girls that I plan on giving blood, they get all shivery and squirmy on me as though by saying "give blood" I have physically become the nightmarish needle.

Hey, I don't like needles anymore than the next person; however, why should I be afraid of something that I will have to deal with at least annually at the doctor's? Shots and needles will plague us so do the mind-over-matter thing. It's more or less worked for me.

I give blood when I can (usually I can't give blood because I've traveled out of the country). I give blood because why can I not suffer the pain of maybe ten minutes to an hour so maybe another person can be given some of life's blood? If I were dying or in dire need of healthy blood, I would want people to willingly donate their blood so I might live another day.

My experiences of donating blood have not been rosy - actually far from it. You see, I have small veins. A majority of the time, the needle must be moved while in my arm to get the vein since it is missed upon the first try. To say that the pain is not bad would be a terrible lie. I have a high pain threshold. The pain of that small needle being moved in my arm has taken me very close to fainting multiple times.

Why do I still give blood?

I consider my discomfort and pain small compared to the pain of the person that needs my blood.

Ode to the Male Species

I like men, I'll admit. They've got some pretty cool things going for them. Here's a list that I've compiled in honor of some men in my life.

1. Muscles – They’re nice to look at, but I can appreciate them so much better when they’re in action (I like them more when they’re helping me).

2. A Strong chin – We can only really enjoy this if you actually take the time to shave.

3. Chivalry – I can get the door myself; yet, it’s so much better if you make a point to get it even before I’ve considered the fact that I need to go through that door. This goes for other things, too (“Let me take those heavy bags for you. Oh, they’re not heavy? Let me take them anyway.”)

4. “Wait, that’s your sister?! (you treat her so well that I know that you’d treat your girlfriend even better. Sign me up!)”

5. Intentionality – Choose one girl and pursue her. Don’t go playing with every available heart. Nothing burns like the anger of a woman (or many women).

6. A Man who cries – You get more man points for this because we don’t doubt your manhood. In my mind, you're identity as a man is sealed because I appreciate a man who can be real.

7. Cleanliness – I love a man who takes care of himself. It shows someone who’s serious about all realms of life. Also, the smell of such a man is real nice. I’ll stand near to him.

A Short Story: Tears

Once upon a time, there was a girl who hated to cry. Bad things happened in life, but she refused to cry. When her heart broke, tears refused to surface.

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"I cry in my heart." Her plaintive, but pathetic voice excused her lack of tears.
Then times would come when she knew that she ought to cry. The girl wanted to cry, but couldn't seem to. In the quiet of an empty room, the girl whispered to herself, "It's okay. Now, you can cry." No tears ever came.

To this girl, tears portrayed weakness. Tears were for those who could not take care of themselves or who wanted to manipulate others to their own desires. And for vanity's sake, tears made one's skin motley, red, and puffy.

As this girl journeyed through life and continued to refuse to cry, she met many people. A curious thing happened. Some of these people were not afraid to cry and some shared the girl's own feeling of distaste toward tears. Yet, this girl found herself drawn to those who shed tears openly. They seemed freer somehow. These tear-shedders walked lightly and were not ashamed of their vulnerability.

In time, the-girl-who-could-not-cry discovered that she had begun to respect these others who felt no shame in crying.

"You must learn to cry." These told her.
"I hate crying?" The girl tried to say emphatically but ended in a question. With the passing of time, tears began to entice her. Crying seemed to hold such freedom and release.

Life brought this girl pain after pain. Never did a tear slid down her face or fog her eye. She went staunchly on; yet, out of the corner of her eye, the girl wistfully caught sight of those who freely shed tears on her behalf.

She wanted that.

The girl desired to cry.

On rainy days, the girl sprinted out to meet the teardrops of the sky. As these fresh water tears splashed on her face, the girl pretended that these drops of water came from her own heart. The rain danced down her cheeks as the girl spun in the rain with arms opened wide finally accepting the crying of the sky. Her pain seemed best expressed through this sky encapsulating cry. Yet, only the fresh water of clouds cascaded down her face.

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Still, salt droplets did not come from the girl's own eyes.

Life continued bringing the girl both new pains and renewing old ones. And yet, things had changed somehow. No longer did she face these hurts in the same way that she had before. Before, she had chosen to be strong and show no weakness. Now, the girl wanted to embrace the freedom that she saw in the tear-shedders.

Even with this desire, no tears came.

On a day with no rain but lots of wind, the girl climbed a hill and considered her life. Abruptly, she sat amongst the tall grass. Looking at her hands, the girl noticed a small yellow bud of a flower by her knee. The flower's petals were crushed, bruised, and ripped. Yet, the flower still sought the sunshine. Just like she did.

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The girl's throat tightened as she stared at the flower. Her mind raced. Surely, she would choke and die. Breathing seemed difficult with this strange tightening of the throat. Emotion rushed to her eyes and a liquid warmth filled her eyes and spilled over. The girl let the tears come. She did not wipe them away. She did not laugh in embarrassment. She cried freely. Her skin became blotchy and red. Snot dripped from her nose. And you know what? This girl was beautiful in her tears.

...

"A princess's tears are prized the world over. For centuries, caravans and traders traveled across sand and sea looking for this rare find. Like invisible ink, they are used to compose the sweetest of songs, the most beautiful poetry, and the most adoring love letters. For break-up letters or insults, use crocodile tears."
The Secret Lives of Princesses

Captivation: Perfectionism

Perfectionism.

(more on Perfectionism)

It eats my happiness.
Perfectionism creates a fear within me that I shall not be enough and that the work I do will not be enough to please those around me. Sometimes, it freezes me up so much that I can't move even a teeny tiny step forward.

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I'd love to be perfect. To be perfect would mean no mistakes and no fear of anything - after all, I would be perfect.

Perfectionism - "a personal standard, attitude, or philosophy that demands perfection and rejects anything less." (found at dictionary.com)

The pursuit of perfection is life-draining, throat-numbing, failure-focusing, hand-trembling, brain-short-circuiting, depression-inducing, workaholic-making, and just plain unsatisfying.

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Mistakes are rarely world-ending. After all, has the world ended yet? Nah, it still seems somewhat intact although it does seem to be hanging on by only a few threads in some places. Mistakes create learning experiences. Mistakes remind us that we are imperfect individuals (we can relate to complete strangers in our imperfections).

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Perfectionism. It puts a bad taste in my mouth. I am not perfect. I shall never be perfect. My desire to reach perfection is like trying to reach Nirvana. Impossible.

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I hate that I'm not perfect. I hate my brokeness. I'm not perfect and I have nothing to offer. And yet. And yet, a flawless and perfect God loves me. He chooses to pursue me, a girl who terrorized babysitters and teachers alike with my stubborn, pig-headed ways - a girl with a sullied heart. Although I was once a curse, He's has turned me into a blessing. This Creator God who could have turned away from His creation chooses rather to turn toward His creation with love. He bought my heart with His life (when I give it away for much less). He died for me. He scarred Himself for me.

I am imperfect meaning that I'm a bit broken in places. It's a good thing that this God who loves me is in the business of healing.

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Instead of chasing perfectionism, I think I will chill in the presence of a perfect God who accepts me in my imperfection and is making me into something new.

Inspired by People: Family

Priorities, priorities.
Get your priorities straight.
I've heard that line a lot. Mostly in movies to irresponsible characters and sometimes to myself. Over the past couple of months a thought has been very much on the fore front of my mind.

Family.

I am thankful for my family. Because we're crazy. Because we don't get along perfectly. Because we know how to irritate each other in the least amount of time possible. And yet, we love each other. I don't know how or why we love each other, but somehow we do.

In my family, I'm the oldest child - the guinea pig, the test drive child, the one that the parents learned on. I had 18 lovely years at home in the security of the family nest. I had 16 years with my sister where we lived under the same roof and only 13 years with my brother. I adore these kiddos.

via (I mean I don't look exactly like this. Maybe a bad hair day)

My mom - she drives me crazy (yep, she'll probably see this). We're very alike; yet, we're not. She speaks her mind always (a blunt honesty that makes me cringe, but i'm also slightly jealous of). My mother has a servant's heart - that is how she chooses to love on people. My mother is a solution-finder. My mom is the one who carries home-made bread to the neighbors - not on a yearly basis, but more on a weekly basis. She's a good steward of the things that she's been given.

via (bread. isn't this just awesome?!)


My dad - he's a quiet soul, but there's a lot more to him than meets the eye. We're also very alike; yet, different. After all, I'm a girl and he's a guy. Growing up, people commented on how much I looked like him (except that i was a girl). My dad has the gift of encouragement. He uses words. He uses hugs. He uses music (did i mention that he recently decided to relearn guitar?). I have never doubted his love for me or his belief in my ability to succeed. He's steadfast.

via (watching my dad put forth the effort to relearn guitar was pretty inspirational.)

My sister - another quiet soul with a charismatic creativity. She's the type that walks into department stores, eyes up the clothing, returns home, and creates the desired item (why didn't I get that ability?!). She's a listener. She's sweet in an innocent and loving way. I like to say that she's my built-in best friend (on a side note, when we were youngsters, we rarely fought. But when we did, it was fast and furious).

via (So my sister's sewing isn't quite like this. But, you get the idea)


My brother - a technical friendly genius who likes to help people. My brother has befriended a good handful of elderly neighbors and is aiding them with their computer abilities. Never have I met such a boy with such a heart to serve other people. He's always been a smiley person with an eagerness to please others. Although he leaves me in the dust with his technical talk sometimes, he definitely is a help to have around when one can't figure out the TV, DVD, and Dish (seriously, tech-savvy brothers should be a part of the package for these things).

via (this looks exactly like my brother. well, except for the caricature part!)


I am thankful for my family.

It's so easy to take the things right in front of you for granted. It's easy to see everything bad about these people who live so close to your own life. It's so easy to complain about what we don't have or what we do have. But, can you practice thankfulness even when you don't feel like being thankful? Life moves quickly. So be thankful.

What kind of awesome family do you have?

Captivation: Women of Gaza

I am captivated by this image taken by Tanya Habjouqa in her series entitled Women of Gaza.

I implore you to go look through the Women of Gaza photography HERE.

A Wild Flower Walk

Feet in hot pink mud boots with a basket on her arm, my cousin set out with me on a walk. We went in search of wild flowers. For days, we'd been driving down these country roads watching black-eyed susans nod their heads at us. For days, queen anne's lace sophisticatedly taunted us from the windy freedom of the side of the road.

Yesterday afternoon, we went in search of beauty.

As the hot sunshine made sweat slide down our backs and our mud boots plodded along the road, our eyes searched out bright bits of colors. Like children (for we are children sometimes), we hunted out these treasures of color.

Long before our walk had ended, our basket brimmed with flowers. My cousin walking beside me sighs and says to me, "I feel so relaxed right now. I don't really know why I wasn't relaxed before, but now I am."

I looked at her oddly. Musing on her words, I could only thing that sunshine, flowers, buzzing flies, sweat, and a comfortable camaraderie are therapeutic. More than that, we were participating in an activity that girls had done for decades. We sought beauty.

Summer begs for idyllic adventures and simple activities with those one loves. It's so easy to appreciate pictures of nature from the view of our couch and computer, but there is nothing like a personal snapshot of nature that one sees in the midst of the bugs, sweat, and sunshine. Perhaps a personal snapshot won't last as long as paper and ink; however, a personal snapshot is like a slideshow that never stops. Keep creating these moments for yourself and others.

In twenty years, I might not remember this wildflower walk. But, I will remember this summer spent with my cousins. And who knows, my cousin might recall this walk.

Go pick some wild flowers and revel in the beauty that has been granted us on this earth. And have a lovely Independence Day!

via

Silly Fear, Get Out of my Life!

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light not our darkness that frightens us. We ask ourselves 'who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others. "
~ Marianne Williamson

"The greatest mistake you can make in life is to be continually fearing you will make one."
~ Elbert Hubbard

"Inaction breeds doubt and fear. Action breeds confidence and courage. If you want to conquer fear, do not sit home and think about it. Go out and get busy."
~ Dale Carnegie

"Thinking will not overcome fear but action will."
~ W. Clement Stone

Most of my summer so far has been me experiencing new challenges in every area of my life. Suddenly, I'm realizing that somehow I need to balance growth in every area of my life. How do I manage all of this? I don't know. Mostly, I'm just afraid. I'm afraid of failure. I'm afraid of disappointing those I love. I'm afraid of wasting peoples' time. I don't sing in the shower anymore. I brood. I don't dance much anymore because I'm afraid people will see. I stare into the sky. How glad am I that God is not legalistic and that I don't have to follow a bajillion rules to please Him. I'd fail or never start following the rules because I'd be afraid of messing up. Silly me, allowing fear to sap the strength from the bones and the smile from my face. Apparently, I need to get busy and not dwell on this fear. :)

May you live in freedom today and kick the spirit of fear out of your life.

Funny Stories from Life

Did you know there is an Ultimate Goat Fansite? Now, you do.

I've never been around goats before except at petting zoos, but apparently, I live at a type of petting zoo these days. I went down to where the goats were with my cousins and this one goat, Dunston, decided that my bracelet must be food. Thankfully, he only tried lipping it.

***

This past week, I went into work at the university. I stopped to talk to a ph.d student. Halfway through the conversation, he asked me what I usually do for lunch and then followed up his question with an offer for lunch.
My inner reaction: "Wait, what? Me? You do know that I'm in undergrad, right?"
My outer reaction: "That would be cool. I can't today, though. I'm going to talk with Dr. So-and-So. Maybe another time!"
I got back to my desk and sat in shock for a good 2 minutes. Shrugged and went back to work.

***

Have you ever confused body lotion and regular lotion? I have. Generally, I end up covered in body lotion only to realize that it's not rubbing in as I would expect. Looking like a poor beach bum who bathed in sunscreen, I frantically try to come up with some solution to this spectacular new layer of lotion on top of my skin. Tip to other confused individuals: A towel.

***

Sitting in the stands for my girl cousin's softball game, my boy cousin (who happens to be 5 years younger than me) says, "I wonder how many people here think that we're dating." I laugh off his statement.
On our return drive home, my girl cousin turns to me and chirps, "Guess what! My friend though you were my brother's girlfriend."
What could I do but laugh?

***

Walking into the bathroom while talking on the phone with my dear friend (who happens to have a cooking blog - check it out!), a spider slightly shorter than my pinky finger lounged on the floor of the shower. After informing my friend about the spider and unsuccessfully trying to kill it, my friend suggests that she yell at it. So while she yelled through the phone at the spider (distracting it), I killed it with my green flat shoe. Now, that's teamwork even when separated by a couple of states.

***

Hopefully, these little tidbits have left you with a small smile on your face. Have a lovely weekend and I hope adventures find you in your biggest moments of ennui!

Singing in Michigan

Perhaps you have missed my presence in blogosphere. Perhaps, you didn't even notice my absence. However, I feel that I should explain that I have been traveling throughout the Upper Peninsula of Michigan this past week with my college choir. My time consisted of eating, driving, sleeping, eating, singing, eating, choir concert, eating, and talking with the host families. We stayed with five host families throughout the week. Each church that we performed at somehow managed to find families to host 47 people.

Some fun quirks about my host families.

Host Family #1: This hospitable magazine mom not only generously shared food and family history with us, she also offered us her 23-year-old single, very-dateable, medical-biology-studying son. She said he was attractive. I didn't believe her until I saw a picture. Deep-set blue eyes, square jaw, solid muscular body. I'm surprised that with that physique and his encouraging mother that he isn't dating anyone.

Host Family #2: This family has been in my acquaintance since the beginning of my college career. They placed four of us choir girls in one of their daughter's bedrooms. Two of us slept on an air mattress. It deflated during the night. I woke to the giggles of the girls as they tried to figure out how to rectify their deflated sleeping space.

Host Family #3: At this house, we ate fruit and popcorn. In the morning, I went to the bathroom to find the cat sitting in the bathtub. When I went to pee, the cat tried to jump in my lap. Yeah, that was interesting.

Host Family #4: This old, retired couple owned a house set far back in rural Michigan. The house was designed and built by a Civil War architect. It was a true beauty. The bathrooms were as big as a small bedroom. I felt that I had walked into a history novel. I would have stayed if I could.

Host Family #5: We resided in a small bedroom within a house that reminded me of a log cabin. The eleven-year-old daughter of this family attended both of our Sunday morning concerts at her church and promptly decided that she wanted to attend my college and be in the choir. Apparently, we had a pretty big impression on her.

Choir Tour went beautifully and I enjoyed almost every moment of it. Every once in a while, crabby people happen, but I guess that's to be expected!

Don't worry all! I didn't forget about the giveaway. I shall be announcing the winner soon!