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She has done a beautiful thing to me

Matthew 26:10-13 NIV
Aware of this, Jesus said to them, “Why are you bothering this woman? She has done a beautiful thing to me. The poor you will always have with you, but you will not always have me. When she poured this perfume on my body, she did it to prepare me for burial. Truly I tell you, wherever this gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.”

I'm drawn to these verses because of the Lord's statement that she has done a beautiful thing to me. It's such a gentle, tender moment between her and Jesus. I imagine all His love for her pouring out just as she poured the oil over Him. It also shows the spirit of women and our substantial role in Jesus' life at such crucial moments like this one. It's a joy to peer in and view such a private-public moment. And I find it interesting that although her name was not mentioned, He says that this moment, "what she has done", would be told in memory of her. That He would take the time to commemorate this woman for all the world to know is touching, encouraging, validating, uplifting, and leaves no room for women who love the Lord to be pushed down, "don't bother her". She is doing this for me, for this key part of my ministry. To prepare Jesus- what a lofty thought! For if Jesus was not buried, it meant He did not die. And without His death we could not be dead to sin, in Christ. In this gospel we don't know who she is, where she came from, nor where she went after this. And so it leaves a blank space for every woman's heart to fill in her name, for her to do beautiful things for the Lord knowing that He is utterly in love and pleased with her.

I'm utterly in love with You too, Lord. Wherever I may have come from, what my past may be, mistakes I may make tomorrow, THIS MOMENT, may it be a beautiful thing done unto You.

Tasmanian Tiger

Anyone who knows me, knows I'm a problem solver. I love puzzles, brain teasers, sudoku, cross words, you name it. I get them emailed or downloaded to my phone. So my teaser of the day was, "Even though the Tasmanian Tiger is classified as a carnivore, why doesn't it eat meat?" And even though I didn't know anything about the Tasmanian Tiger, the answer immediately popped into my head that if it's not doing what it's classified to do, it must be extinct. I was right.

I'm not writing that to brag about how I solved the teaser, I'm writing because it made me wonder, "How many of us could be considered extinct simply because we're not doing what we were made to do or called to do?". Whether it's ministry or a job done well or simply the role you play in a loved one's life, are you extinct? Could someone believe you must not exist because you didn't show up when they needed you? Are you missing from your post? Are you using your gifts to the fullest? Just something I'm going to ponder today and thought I'd share...

Ask. Think. Marvel.

When my girlfriends and I get together there is usually a "hairstory" among us. Sometimes we laugh sometimes we cry. I recently had the unfortunate experience of hearing about something so dreadfully soul stealing regarding a young black woman and the thoughtless words she endured over her hair. And at 3am this is what poured from my heart. So I dedicate this poem to every black woman who has a hairstory.

Ask. Think. Marvel.

When you touch a black woman's hair you touch her soul.
It is a privilege and intimacy that for now only my hairdresser has,
and only three times a year.
Ask.

When you touch a black woman's hair you are touching her strength
and her vulnerability.
Her strength which lifts her head and presses her chin to the sun,
her crown gleeming therein, and yet the vulnerability that can also
be used to hold her back when thoughtless words hurt and aim to destroy.
Think.

When you touch a black woman's hair you are touching her legacy-
the faces of the men and women which tell the story of her blood
and every curl, kink, or nap in her heritage.
Marvel.

When you touch a black woman's hair, whether with words, your hands, or your stares,
you are touching her soul.
Ask.
Think.
Marvel.

When Hope Sings

Some of you may relate to going to church and having that feeling that the day's service was "just for me". Today was one of those days. But this time the personal way God reached out and grabbed my heart wasn't the sermon, it was the music. Or more specifically, the who in the music.

I joined my church going on 12 years ago. It was during a time in my life when I desperately needed change. Going to other churches in the past was just something to do to look like a good person and I frequently glanced at my watch to see when it would be over. But when I attended MY church for the first time that day, I was captivated. The founding pastor was teaching and talking about how God related to your everyday life. He suggested we take notes and I did. I wrote down everything he said with the fervor of a heart that found the change she was looking for. When he finished preaching, I was disappointed and actually sighed, "Oh no, not yet".

Over the years MY church grew me and matured me and taught me. In addition to what was being poured into me, I served in various ministries and soon I became "one" with MY church. It was my second family. Over more years I faced challenges and had to apply "real" faith in my walk. And over even more years, I walked in my relationship with God to the point that church itself had become a groove; something I moved in and out of. It was more a relationship of courtesy than of "oneness".

Even though I still attend faithfully and still serve faithfully, today when I sat in the pew I looked around and thought, "Who is this church?". Not that there is anything bad about my church or drastically different. I'm still a member, I still serve, but lately I'd felt like I didn't belong. While I pondered that in my heart, the choir started to sing. I clapped and tapped and swayed but sighed,"Where's MY church?". They began to pass the mic around to different choir members to sing different solo verses which I hadn't seen them do before and just noted, "hmm that's different" as the mic moved from person to person. Soon I was distracted, and again looked around thinking and sighing, "More people have joined now. It doesn't seem like MY church anymore...". While I faded into a daydream, the voices changed from person to person in the background, but then I heard a voice. It was Hope.

Hope was a soprano who used to sing in the choir in the growing years of my attendance. And honest to goodness, her name actually is "Hope". There are some people whose spiritual gifts are beyond apparent when God uses them. When Hope sang your heart melted into butterflies. The lilt in her voice made you soar as she climbed every note higher and higher. It was always a special treat to me to hear Hope sing a solo. So when Hope left the choir one year, I was hurt. But it happens. You adjust. New choir members come and go just as new church members come and go. But today while I was pondering MY church and looking down at my hands instead of the choir, I heard a voice like a golden thread that went through my heart and thrust me back. It sounded so familiar. I scrunched up my forehead, slowly looked up and saw Hope.

The tears uncontrollably flooded my face and warmed my heart. It was Hope! Now I don't know when Hope joined the choir again. She may have been there for a long time and I never noticed or maybe today was her first day back. As she sang, she cried. And as she cried, I cried more. I don't know what God was saying to her, but I know what God was saying to me. Today, "just for me", God let me hear Hope sing and MY church felt like home again.

MY MOM IS TOTALLY FREAKIN AWESOME!

I had four pairs of jeans stuffed in drawers that were too big for me. These were my favorite jean brand and the store I'd victoriously found them from no longer carries them. Isn't that the way?? I'd given up hope of finding another brand of jeans I could wear. While visiting my mom last weekend I was telling her about my dilemma. My mom (a life-long sewer) simply shrugged and suggested that I take them in.

A novel idea! I was puzzled thinking, is that allowed?!? Isn't there some rule that you have to be a slave to the department stores? If their clothes don't fit, you have to change to fit the clothes, right?? But tonight, I pulled out my sewing machine, my four pairs of jeans and voila, I now have four "brand new" pairs of jeans to hang back up in my closet!!

While I was trying my best to keep a straight line, messing up, pulling out my seam ripper, starting again, breaking a needle, replacing the needle, re-spooling my bobbin, snipping the thread, gleefully snatching my finished product from the sewing machine, then running to the mirror to try on my "new" jeans, I kept thinking of my mom.

When I was little I once lamented (aka whined) about how the other kids didn't have to wear homemade clothes and how their moms didn't make their clothes and why couldn't we buy my clothes from the store, blah blah blah. With calm wisdom she turned to me and said, "Someone's mom made even the clothes you buy at the store. So what difference does it make that YOUR mom made your clothes?" She was right. Somewhere probably in a dark factory, tons of moms are sitting at tables sewing shirt after shirt trying to make a living for their families. But they didn't love me.

They hadn't spent time wandering through Cloth World picking out fabric I would like; pressing tissue paper patterns against my little body while I held out my arms to get my measurements just right. They hadn't stayed up at night so I could have a cute jumper to wear to school the next day.

And even though at the beginning of every school year some families were going to the mall, I was flipping through pattern cabinets. And even though I didn't always like the flowered prints my mom picked out, I had more koolats than I could ever hope for. And even though I didn't appreciate it fully at the time, thanks Mom! You are totally freakin awesome!

Insomnia

The snoozing bear on the side of the tea box had lied and my insomnia mocked me for another night. I turned heavenward and lamented, “Why won’t she let me sleep?” but my whiney prayer only made it to the celestial stratum of the apartment above me and it returned no answer. Stomping back to my bed for the fifth time, after trying the couch, laying flat like DaVinci’s anatomical man on the floor, and then the couch again, I tried to hide from the truth by tucking my head under my pillow. "If I just pretend it’s not 2:33 in the morning, I can trick myself into only needing 4 hours of sleep.". An hour later, I updated my denial, “Ok, 3 hours of sleep.”

Throwing the pillow aside and flipping over, my thoughts paced- Fiction isn’t even my voice… I don’t know how to open her story… What will her name be?... Does she even need a name? …(I google names online) … Maybe being nameless will bring more insight to her character. Will I narrate her as another character or will she tell her story in first-person? But it won’t matter if I can’t hook ‘em with the intro. It has to be catchy…oh I know! “It was a dark and stormy…” wait, that’s been done.

In my mind I began to review the opening lines, character development, and voice tenses of books I’d read. I admired and cursed the talent of their authors. My insomnia, my clock and now They all mocked me. Imaginary Amy Tan laughed at me and bragged she never had a sleepless night over a story. Agatha Christie pointed and laughed from my Kindle screen saver, “I never had to start the same story over and over. Boy you suck!”. Stephen King just stared at me in shame, shaking his head until he couldn’t even bear to look at me. “Yes I know! You were all born fantastic writers”, I pouted back and threw the pillow over my head again.

Moments later I spring from my bed and plop in front of my laptop. Even if this no-named “she” wants to elude and rob me of sleep for one more night, I will have a victory. Trying not to notice the light that will soon leak from the horizon, I declared the blinking curser on the blank page of my laptop the capital L loser and blog about my typical night as a writer. Maybe now I can get some sleep. Maybe.

JUST NAKED

...okay, so I wasn't going to say anything about it, but I want to share! And since it's been 4 months (YIKES!) since I've written on my blog, and considering the season of my life I'm in, this would be a perfect occasion and topic to write about.

Yesterday I went to a Korean Spa/Sauna bath house for my friend's birthday. When I first found out the bath house part of it was communal and buck-naked, I was completely freaked out. I do NOT do communal, especially buck-naked.

Before we went, over dinner we laughed and joked about our insecurities, Ciara's legs, our perceptions of our own bodies and how others would view us. We debated our comfort of nakedness in front of strangers versus friends. Some women were comfortable with the idea. Others, like me, were in dread of it. It was an enlightening discussion. But even as dinner came to a close and the next step was going to the spa, the question stayed with me- was I actually going to *gulp* get naked, or not?

Now just to pause and clarify, it's not like at home I turn off the lights to get undressed or something. It was just the thought of being naked in front of people. You're exposed in the most private of private. There's a vulnerability of showing yourself in any aspect of life, not just your body. And over time I've cultivated the skill of hiding those vulnerabilities well. From the beginning of time we've run to cover our "shame". It's unsettling to know someone else is going to see what you see. And here I was marching off to uncover it!

So as we approached the steps of the spa, I took a deep breath, gripped my toiletry bag tight and was still not prepared for NAKED CITY EVERYWHERE as soon as we walked into the locker room. Naked to my left (DIVERT EYES!). Naked to my right (LOOK DOWN!). Naked at 6 o'clock (OH GOD I DID NOT WANT TO SEE THAT!).

Refuge in locker #99 didn't last long. A uniformed lady informed us to "Take off all clothes now. Panties bra everything. Take shower." What? Now? Here? In front of EVERYONE? The birthday girl was on team "Who cares? This is not bothering me". Me and another girl were on team "Fraidy cat". But there was no turning back. The Naked Now lady wasn't playing. There was nothing more to do then to strip down and "take shower".

We gingerly undressed, sheepishly looking but not looking at each other with "help me" in our eyes. When suddenly, genius hit me. I know, I'll hide behind a towel! My plan was great until I saw the towels were the size of a dish rag...no wait, two dish rags. That would take care of one side but not the other. It was the moment of truth. There was nothing left to do. I held my head up high, chose the front, gripped my towel, and with my behind breezy in the wind, walked to the showers. I was scared but giddy at the same time!

However, easing into the bath did not ease my discomfort until the strangest thing happened. Another lady wearing only a towel turban and a smile says to the other member of Fraidy Cat, "Is this your first time?" She replied, "yes". NAKED lady said "It shows on your face!", then did the most bizarre, gracious, awkward, wonderful thing. She came over NAKED, shook our hands NAKED, and introduced herself NAKED. But suddenly she eased my fears. We just sat around and talked. And as we shared our experiences the NAKED and the stress melted away. I didn't feel NAKED anymore. I was just me.

We went on to enjoy the rest of the treatments meant to tighten our skin, improve our circulatory systems, and detox our bodies, but as I reflect over the night what impressed me the most was the benefit I gained in being free. As women we're set up to compete over or be ashamed of our bodies. But when I looked around (even though I wasn't looking!) and saw women of different sizes, shapes, figures, degrees of cellulite, and levels of plump or non-plumpness it brought a smile to my face. For once we just were; we were just women chilling in 102 degree water.

And even today I didn't think about the ways I need to hide my so-called imperfections. I just smiled and thought about all the other bumpy butts who had a sanctuary for one night. No one to judge. No where to hide. JUST NAKED in every way. I hope to live the rest of my life like that.

Dear Lord,

I’m in a really pouty terrible mood today. Although I was so blessed by the experience of the writer’s conference this weekend, little things got on my nerves and distracted me. Plus bad bad decision-making as I navigated my day also put me in a sour mood. But I think the real source of my crabbiness was recognizing something about myself that I know to be a real issue- self-inflicted glass ceilings. In short, I avoid getting better at things that I probably could. As You know, this glass ceiling appeared at 12 when I realized playing the piano was going to take more work than memorization (just like with the cello, and painting, and drawing, and swim lessons, and…).

This weekend I faced the reality that writing is an art and a skill. I’m saddened by the “skill” of it because it means I have to put in an effort to go beyond my raw natural talents (just like with the cello, and painting, and drawing, and swim lessons, and…). I’m sad because I don’t want to disappoint You by “getting bored” and losing interest. I feel ashamed because I think this is nothing more than pure unadulterated laziness. And I’m hurt because to my utter surprise, I’m not as fantastic as I thought I was. I need to improve.

Am I afraid to finally see how good I could really be at something? Or am I just afraid to see how really bad I am?

You and I have gotten to a point in our relationship that is beyond You telling me what to do and what not to do. I’ve reached an age both naturally and spiritually where You expect me to make well-thought decisions and choices about my spiritual walk and maturity. I have a major personal decision to make and as an awesome Parent, this time You’re silently waiting for me to make it. …

…

…

me too.

The Horror!

This morning I was given a choice. On the surface it might not seem like a big deal. But in this day and age, to some it might seem a radical choice to make. Initially it was brought upon me by circumstances. Then it blossomed into an opportunity for sacrifice. Since I’m currently in the middle of a pretty strenuous fast with my church, I was a bit surprised that an opportunity arose for me to sacrifice more. The additional sacrifice? Not having internet in my home (The horror!).

Every year starting New Year’s Day, for the past three years, my church has conducted a fast.

Sidebar- a fast is basically a commitment of sacrifice for the purpose of spiritual gain. The sacrifice should always be a personal statement to God expressing your desire for more of Him. Your sacrifice might be coffee or t.v. but that wouldn’t really be much of a sacrifice for me. In cases like our church-wide fast, we are sharing a common and typical sacrifice in the area of food. Fasts are very challenging yet very rewarding.

Each year it gets longer- first 21 days, then 30, now 40. We’re doing the Daniel fast which is basically Vegan (no animal products) dietary choices in terms of food with a Sabbath day on Sundays. But the focus of the fast this year is improving our relationships; first with our relationship with God then with others.

So back to my horror! Although I can giggle about it now, and although some of you may have gasped at the sheer thought of it, my first response at receiving the notice that I could not have internet service was pure panic. You would’ve thought I’d just lost my child at the mall. Frantically I dialed the phone company’s number. But every option I chose resulted in an automated voice notifying me “That office is currently closed. Please call back…”. My panic rose. Hanging up, calling again, stating “new service”, hearing “I’m sorry I am having trouble understanding you…”, then repeating “NEW SERVICE!” where everyone in my building would have no trouble understanding me, only again to hear, “I’m sorry that office is currently closed…”. I was horrified. But then when I talked myself off the ledge and stopped panicking, I had a moment to gather my thoughts-“What will I do if I can’t have the internet at home?” And God in His calm and patient way watched my whole panic attack take place, waited for me to stop foaming at the mouth, and gently asked, “What will you do, indeed?”

The past three weeks, I’ve seen God take care of all my needs in abundant shocking ways. Similar challenges were easily overcome or not even a factor. So is there a reason He’s allowing THIS particular snafu? For the first few weeks of my fast I’ve been focusing on re-energizing my relationship with God. I had a lot of distractions and life-challenges in the past few years that frankly, I’d allowed to eclipse my private time with Him. And as the most significant life-challenge comes to some aspect of a conclusion, I’m now having the opportunity to reconnect with Him. And suddenly I realized I was starving.

I’d already been living in a kind of fast and didn’t realize it. I was hungry for peace. I was hungry for quiet. I was hungry for reading His Word. I was hungry for calm. But while being in my current transition, I was removed from the things that distracted me and I was forced to do new things with my thoughts, time, and energy. And as I filled up that void with prayer, reading, and personal growth, I was becoming full again. I’d prayed for my relationship with God to continue to recover. I prayed to let my home be a place filled with His presence where I can relax, decompress, heal, grow, and be refreshed.

So when I looked at the internet issue again, I began to wonder if this circumstance was intentional. I thought about how much time I typically spend on the internet most evenings. That if I had it, it would probably gobble up the quiet time I’ve been enjoying with God. That especially now, I need to stay connected to Him to experience the kind of growth I desire. That, I confess, I’d been relying on “watching church” through my church’s online streaming feed more times than I’d actually been going to church. That maybe, this might be good for me. Instead of a sacrifice, I’ve actually been given an abundant blessing. Now I won’t be distracted by the temptation to waste hours at home surfing, shopping, IMing. Now I can curl up with a good book or spend quality time in verdant prayer more. Now I can challenge myself to break out of my introverted habits and be out in the public, spend time with my friends and family face to face, and actually improve my relationships! Novel idea.

When I went to bed last night I prayed that God would let me know what to do about it in the morning. So when I woke up this morning I felt He offered me a choice. I truly believe that all I have to do is call the phone company and God can and would be willing to resolve the issue. Or I could not call and instead enjoy this time of peace, enjoy this opportunity to interact with actual people instead of getting everything through the internet, and soak my weary soul in the warm quiet of God’s arms. I turned on my computer, wrote out this long blog, and I’ve now made my choice- I’m going to thrive, not survive, without the internet in my home.

You sure you want a King?

On my previous post, I talked about just letting 2010 be about dancing with my Father. Once I'd become liberated by that idea, I started to think more about this concept of just being still, hanging with God, and letting Him take the lead in our dance. It reminded me of when the Israelites asked Samuel for a King to lead the people rather than Samuel's sons whom he'd established as Judges. Yeah, cause most people get reminded of 1 Samuel chapter 8 verses 1-22 when they write out their New Year's resolutions....riiiiight. Again, it's a sickness, just roll with it.

BUT truly, it did remind me of that scene because of what God said in response to their complaints. He basically said, "Look Samuel, this isn't really about your sons or you. This is about them rejecting ME. I was already their King". So God told Samuel to tell them like it T-I-is. He basically said, "Tell them if they want a king so bad, this is how it's going to be with a king over them- he's going to take your stuff and make it his. He's going to make your sons and daughters work for him. Basically you're going to be worse off than you are right now. And when you start being mad, don't come crying to me about it!" And even after Samuel told them that, they still demanded a king. And God said, "Fine! Give 'em a King. I'll even pick one out".

Isn't that just like how we are with Him? We establish a layer in between a direct relationship with God and think it's a better set up. And if we're extra holy, we innocently (kinda) think, we SHOULD have this other thing to guide and direct our lives for us in "partnership" with God. Don't think so? I'll use myself as an example-

- Ok, I wanted to define a career for myself because I wanted to know that my life had a track to ride on. God says, "Why do you need something called a 'career' for that? You have me!"

- I wanted to have $XX dollars in the bank so I know I will have money to fall back on in case something happens. God says, "Yeah being wise with money and being prepared is good, but you don't need to fall back on your money. You need to fall back on me!"

- I was concerned about factoring in new relationships in the future. God says, "Why not enjoy the relationship you're having with me? Cause guess what? I promise you, some dude is eventually going to work your nerves, take up your time, money, and attention."

Oh, and remember I was going to do the right thing and pray He would bless and guide all my "layers".

We try to make that stuff sound all good and smart and right. But know what that stuff really is? *whispering* Psst! Lean in... those are called "idols". Yeah! For real! And despite what Paula, Randy, Simon or the new dudette thinks, God isn't a fan. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not saying He's saying I should hate men, not have some idea of what to do with my life, or save money. But I get His point, especially about relationships cause they are work. And that's putting it lightly.

But just as God was saying to the Israelites, He's saying to us, "Ok, you want all that? Fine. But don't come crying to me when your career is over-demanding, your money is funny, and he gets on your nerves, when you could've just had me!". Again, there's nothing wrong with having goals or guidelines or desires. What'll get you messed up is if you look in your heart and realize you trust those things more than you trust God.

Oh and in case you were wondering, Saul (the King they asked for) did turn out to be a headache. And that's putting it lightly. Not because God purposefully picked a lemon, but because nothing, I mean nothing, compares to God. Man, they should've just stuck with God! I know I'm going to.

Both Awe and Consternation

AWE- Talk about following through!

Click to read-> Allen 18-Year-Old Makes Good On Promise To Orphan


CONSTERNATION- I don't know what was more disturbing, that he did it, or all the comments on the article that only focused on a better rifle he could've used instead. Um, did they read the article?? Hello??

Click to read->A community college student was upset about his grades when he walked into a classroom and fired two shots at his professor before his new rifle jammed

Box Step

On my wedding day, I danced with my father. I'd never ever danced with my father before so I wanted it to go well. The song I'd selected was "Mother Father" by Musiq, which is a sweet song about thanking our parents for all they've done. It's a very simple 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3 box step kind of song. When we rehearsed it, I told my dad all he had to do was step to the beat, turn and repeat. As we danced it was clear we had the same vision in mind- stay on beat, look like we knew what we were doing, enjoy ourselves, and don't step on each other's toes! We accomplished those goals beautifully.

I am all about planning your work and working your plan. So this morning I am planning my vision and direction for 2010. Some of the things I want to focus on are personal growth, finances, Career choices (capital C makes it more grown-up), and having fun. I listed out those high-level things and then itemized various sub-areas I wanted to target by quarter. I will resist color-coding, this time. Yes, it is a sickness, but a very effective one. So anywho...

I was getting a little overwhelmed trying to sort it all out. So I wanted to "first" spend some time praying about God's perspective on those areas (after I'd already listed all of them out, mind you). But as I began to think about what to pray, suddenly I had a soft sweet daydream of myself dancing with God. He gently took my hand and He spoke to me, you haven't had a "Career" in 10 years. Why are you so bent out of shape over having one now? 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3... You haven't ever had excessive amounts of money tucked away, but you've always had enough and have enjoyed life abundantly. 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3... Yes there are some character traits that need to be worked on, but who said I think all the things that bother you are so bad? 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3... If you do get "too old" to do [fill in the blank], who said I felt [fill in the blank] was what I wanted to accomplish with your life anyway? 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3...

And suddenly I realized that the song I have playing in my head may not be the song God has in His head. So no matter how much I stay on MY beat, we wouldn't be dancing together. It was liberating. And you know, God has been dancing with me all my life. Sometimes I looked like I knew what I was doing and He smiled at me and enjoyed those moments with me. Sometimes I've stepped on His toes, but again He smiled at me and got me back on beat. And ultimately it's been beautiful.

So for 2010, I just want to dance with my Father.

Humbled

I never think about stuff like awards or recognition, mostly because I hate attention and it makes me self-conscious. I blush profusely at compliments (If you can't tell, trust me I'm sweating). At media events I've attended, I hid behind someone taller than me to avoid being in the picture; in one, only the edge of my fro-at-the-time was visible. And I recently learned to just say "Thank you [period]" instead of explaining how old my outfit is or why it's unworthy of the compliment. Yeah, I have issues!

So today when the leader of the ministry I serve in at church gave me an "Outstanding Leader Award", I was completely gobsmacked and embarrassed, frankly. In fact, there was actually an award ceremony for it last weekend that I missed. When she'd sent the invitation/email about the ceremony last week, my only thought was, "That will be good for the other people in the ministry to go to. I hope they have fun!"

And although I would normally deeply frown upon drawing even more attention to kind things people think about me, I decided to share it. I'm not going to hide my face (well I did turn away) or shush it (well I did say "Are you serious? No way!" about 3 or 4 times). The inscription reads,

"Thank you for your exceptional servant leadership, excellent team spirit, and exemplary commitment to God and His people."

That is the ultimate compliment and I am so humbled. I want to shout, "I don't deserve it! Don't you realize I screw up on a regular basis???" But I will resist and say, "Thank you [period]" Just don't throw it back in my face when I do screw up! I'm probably screwing up right now! lol

"Everything nourishes what is strong already."

After watching "You've Got Mail" for the umpteenth time, I was finally inspired to read Pride and Prejudice just to see what the big deal was for ShopGirl. I've had moments where like Tom Hank's character, Joe Fox, I rolled my eyes and tossed it to the side yet picked it up again. But I've also come across moments when I'm in awe of the thought-provoking dialog.

One particular exchange about love and romance between Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth caught my attention. They were discussing a former suitor of Elizabeth's sister and how the relationship did not exactly blossom and withered, as it were, upon the young man's attempt to woo her with poetry albeit good poetry-

"I have been used to consider poetry as the FOOD of love", said Darcy.
"Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away." [Elizabeth]

At first I thought it was funny how cynical Elizabeth was being, but truly, she had something there. I paused on that statement -"Everything nourishes what is strong already." That's insightful for many areas of life- spiritually, financially, physically, emotionally, and in relationships- romantic or otherwise. If something isn't already strong with deep roots, even something as "harmless" as love can blow it away like chaff. However, something rooted in strength and health, although it may weeble, although it may wobble, it will not fall down. And to her point, it actually should develop deeper roots and become even stronger yet. So this evening, I'm pondering how fine, stout and healthy are the foundations of my life; lest, God forbid, something come along and starve it entirely away.

If the economic winds came and blew my job away, would my finances be able to stand up against it? If a health issue were to arise, would my trust in God's faithfulness grow stronger? If my best friend suddenly stopped answering my calls, would the definition of our friendship ultimately last? And if I answer "No", to any of those questions, it's not the wind, the sickness, or my friend's fault. It's an indication that something has cracked in the foundation- in my finances, in my faith, and in our friendship.

And maybe I'm projecting a lot onto Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy's passing conversation, but it's inspired me to consider and take stock- What are the fine, stout and healthy things in my life? And what are those thin inclinations that are in danger of a good sonnet? I will spare you the rest of this process, but maybe this will inspire a little inventory of your own! Hey, perhaps ShopGirl was onto something after all...

Both Awe and Consternation

Here is the second edition of Both Awe and Consternation...

First, AWE...How many of us would do this??


Wrong Number Miracle


Now Consternation...otherwise known as Twiddle Dum and Twiddle Dee



13 year old designated driver

New Discoveries

This week I discovered Twitter. And by "discover" I mean in the Christopher Columbus way. Twitter was already there and occupied. But I have made peace with the natives I think.

So my journey began when a co-worker told me about how Twitter can get you connected to the inside scoop from celebrities. Since I'd recently embarked on Facebook, I still wasn't convinced that I would need to add yet another way to have TMI on people. And especially since celebrities aren't really a community of people I spend much time thinking about, I was even less enthusiastic about making the trip. But I joined anyway.

At first I didn't even know where to start. With the question, "what celebrity do I even want to follow?" pulsing through my mind, I managed to add Jennifer Aniston and Chrisette Michele. Chrisette because her music is amazing. Aniston because I'm on team Aniston (rot Brad!) and I can kill at a game of Friends trivia. Pretty soon my list had grown from Bill Cosby to Zooey Deschenel, Q-Tip to John Mayer and back again. So what I'm still trying to wrap my mind around is, is it crazier that I suggested to Serena Williams to get a neti pot because she tweeted that she wasn't feeling well, or that I was able to do so in the first place?

I have enjoyed seeing a glimpse of how the other side lives. But you know what? Other than flying around a lot, celebrities are actually kinda regular people. Soliel Moonfrye (who will always be Punky Brewster to me) is particularly sweet and gracious. Tia and Tamara Mowry can't go 2-3 tweets without praising God for their opportunities. And Serena? Well she usually starts her day by asking "us" to tell her what we are doing that day or how work is.

So I actually feel like I've discovered a secret world of celebrityville that I didn't know about. And although I'm not by any means disillusioned into thinking Alicia Keys is my new BFF, I do feel like an insider. Who knew? There actually is gold in the new world. Me thinks perhaps I've discovered too much?

Both Awe and Consternation

Today I got the idea of documenting things I hear, read or see that will fall into either the Awe or Consternation category. I've noticed that the world never ceases to provide at least one of each on a daily basis. So I intend to make this a new "regular" for my blog. Starting with these:

AWE

US Naval Academy Performance | Kings Firecrackers
http://blip.tv/file/1816913
Army/Navy USA!


CONSTERNATION


N.C. principal leaves after cash-for-grades flap - USATODAY.com
Source: www.usatoday.com
A North Carolina principal is retiring after school district leaders halted a cash-for-grades fundraiser she approved.

Henna tat before and after

25 Things I Learned at the Texas State Fair

1) Banana Praline Waffles, 2 slices of Cheese Pizza, and 2 Midway Rides before 10:30AM do not mix well.
2) Lessons overheard from Father to Son- "Ya bett'r eat all yer food Jr. That's what the fair is 'bout. Don't you know when you leave they ask ya how many corny dogs and cotton candy ya ate and if ya didn't eat 'nough they make you go back?!" Kid didn't buy it.
3) Hot Buttered Corn drippings will spill all over your pants not matter how many napkins you have.
4) Birds at the bird show have everyone trained to believe they are trained.
5) Parrots will not sing Yankee Doodle if they don't feel like it. Yes, no matter how much you smile at them.
6) The Bald Eagle is no longer on the endangered species list. Which is a good thing since, ya know, it's just our Nation's Symbol and all.
7) There actually is a guy with a microphone headset selling Sham Wow.
8) A tiny little woman with fake eyelashes can make beautiful extraordinarily detailed embroidered pictures.
9) Dogs will freestyle dance with old ladies if the beat is right.
10) Suburbans will migrate to the train stop if it means not paying for parking.
11) The last train leaves at 8:37pm. Suburbans do not know that.
12) If you want Monarch butterflies to come into your garden, plant Milkweed because it's a host plant for Monarchs.
13) The Monarch butterfly chrysalis has a gilded edge along the top and no one knows why.
14) Male Monarch butterflies have a tiny little spot on the back of their wings.
15) All Monarch butterflies fly to the same tree in Mexico every year.
16) There's a guy at the Texas Discovery Gardens who is really passionate about Monarch butterflies.
17) People believe that when "the three hunters" finally catch up with Ursa Major "the big bear" constellation that the fat from their cooking pot and the blood from the bear's wounds pours from the sky and turns the Autumn leaves red and gold.
18) The Planetarium eerily still looks exactly the same as when I went there in elementary school.
19) Butter can be carved into an intricate Western Saloon motif complete with life-size people and a dog.
20) In 60 degree weather, a man will dive into a 10 foot pool of water from a diving platform 80 feet in the air.
21) A man who dives into a 10 foot pool of water from a diving platform 80 feet in the air will be bright red and shivering when he climbs out the pool.
22) Ford Robots can see you and crack jokes about your poncho.
23) Pigs really can fly...at least when there's an oreo cookie at the other end of the track at stake.
24) People, even Oprah, will stand in line (or in Oprah's case, have people stand in line) for Fried __________ (Fill in the Blank).
25) You will inevitably find 2 tickets at the bottom of your purse AFTER you leave the Fair.

Everyday People

Walking ...
Everyday People
Ma'am do you like poetry? No thank you...
Ma'am would you like a paper? No thank you...
Ma'am do you know God? No thank you...
Everyday People

Sitting on the bus recently previewed by Running for the bus ...
Everyday People
I sit way in the back, Coughing Man leans way back, I scoot way over...
Chimney steps on accompanied by Stove Pipe. Apparently they're buddies. C leans over to SP... Did he just ask for a light? Oh I hope not.
Coughing Man coughing ... H1N1! Oh I wish he'd stop coughing!
Coughing Man searches for a dirty tissue ...
Shove my nose deep into the crevice of my book. Take a deep breath. Can't hold it much longer.
Coughing Man still coughing. Final Stop...at last! Leap to my feet
Man in front of me; What's that smell?
Man in front of me; What smells like vomit?
Man in Front of Me...
Everyday People

Walking with headphones on...
Everyday People
Everyone sounds like Erykah Badu
Man I'm Ignoring sounds like Erykah Badu
Man I'm Ignoring now waving at me sounds like Erykah Badu
Red light sounds like Erykah Badu
Little White Walking Man signal sounds like Erykah Badu
Door to building sounds like Janet Jackson now
Receptionist sounds like Janet Jackson too. Janet says, "Good Afternoon Miss ------ ." Nod hello to Mr. Janet Jackson.
Everyday People

Thoughts- Same thing tomorrow
These are my E-v-e-r-y-d-a-y P-e-o-p-l-e

Yay God for Fall!

Don't you just love the way Fall smells? It's my absolute favorite time of the year. There's just something about breathing in the cool crispness and the way your ears tingle after a brisk walk. It's Fall and Fall means lots of cool things. So here's my top 10 favorite things about Fall ala David Letterman:

10) A big bowl of chili with cheese and oyster crackers
9) Hiding your face under the covers because it doesn't count as morning if it's still dark out
8) Noticing from the turning leaves, how many shades of red have been missing from your life
7) Oatmeal
6) The warm courtesy air that blows on you when you first walk into a building
5) My favorite red knit beanie with the little knot on top
4) Not shaving your legs
3) Wearing oversized comfy sweaters and baggy pants that hide the fact you haven't shaved your legs
2) Knee-high leather boots which also hide the fact that you haven't shaved your legs
1) Going to the Fair and eating two ears of hot buttered corn!!

I love the Fall! Yay God for Fall!

In Today's Adventure - DART

Our fearless she-ro (someone I know HATES that word! tee hee) expands her urban living experience into her work commute. We find her anxiously awaiting part 1 of the 2 bus ride to work. After equipping her "please leave me alone" smile-shield in an effort to defeat the villainous cat-callers, she gingerly steps onto the bus trying to look cool, like she does this all the time. But then her secret identity is quickly uncovered when the bus driver loudly informs her that she is sticking her bus pass in the wrong device reader. DRAT, FOILED AGAIN!  Scoping out her fellow commuters, she evaluates future weapons to aide her in her adventures. "Shall I spend all the money I'm going to save by riding the bus, and buy a Kindle to entertain myself? Should I invest in good headphones like the lady whose bright red Princess Leia-worthy musical ear cuffs just scream, "I do NOT want to be bothered with y'all today!". Such advanced weaponry to fight off the commuter fiends! Much to be considered...

 

~Next Page~

Next we find our heroine has safely arrived at the transit center. Part 1 is over. But unfortunately she embarrasses herself further (although she played it off really well) when she walked past the bus hub even though she'd already scoped it out the night before. Donning her, "I meant to do that" deflector hair flip, she turns around and plops on an empty bench realizing her part 2 bus that was to leave at 8:07 had indeed just left at 8:07. DOUBLE DRAT! But wait, what's that in the distance? Huzzah! Our heroine sees arriving over the concrete horizon, the next bus! What luck....our adventure continues.

 

~Lsst Page~

The rest of the way to work, her resumed incognito "I do this all the time" disguise remains intact. JUST THEN, she exits the bus and walks across the parking lot. Now realizing that the most harrowing leg of her commute is managing to get inside the building, she makes one fatal turn and walks through a cloud of toxic smokers behind the back of the building. COUGH! COUGH! Has her journey ended after she's come so far?! COUGH! COUGH! Will the Pottery Barn doors open in time for her to escape the fumes?? Has everything come to an end??? Oh no!

Tune in tomorrow to find out if our heroine actually made it to work! And what happens to her when she DUN DUN DUN tries to take the bus back home again! ... DUN DUN!

 

This is definitely one of THOSE mornings

Read Other Post First
...Rounding the corner I didn't notice the Michael Kors display. The valet guys faded into the background and the only thoughts running through my mind were "Wow I feel like a brat! Skipping around appreciating mochas, you should try to help him!..Does he even want a breakfast taco? While you're contemplating turning back he's probably thinking up a sneak attack right now...where's your pepper spray?...Venita stop it, he's not going to attack you he's just hungry."

I stop, feel bad, keep walking, stop again, but keep walking and look at my feet as I slowly drag them up the entry steps. I quickly avoid the front desk guy's eyes because I just KNOW he KNOWS I didn't give the homeless guy a breakfast taco, get in the elevator and let each beep of the floor tell me how terrible I am (26 beeps). Back at home, I sit on the couch close my eyes and ponder- I used to be more carelessly brave about sharing my God with other people. I used to not let fear keep me from giving a hungry man something to eat. I wish I could write that I bounded off the couch, rushed back to the cafe and ordered another taco and with stern concentration did not rest until I sought out that homeless man to give it to him. Instead I sat on my couch, blogged to you guys about it, told God "thanks" for all my blessings, and realize that He is the one who did a sneak attack on me. Not to invoke guilt, but to smile on me and make me think about the things that really matter. So I will probably spend the rest of today thinking about where I could be giving back the things I enjoy the most about Him; whether it's His love, His resources, or His gifts. This is definitely one of THOSE mornings.

One of THOSE Mornings! Yippee!

This morning is one of those mornings I don't feel rushed. I savor these mornings. I woke up when my eyes decided to open not because an alarm beat me into submission. I try to remember what the heck I was just dreaming about, give up, turn over a few more times, then waddle around assessing what kind of day this is going to be. And with delight I realized, it's going to be one of THOSE mornings! Yippee! That means I can brush my teeth (barely), shake my hair out, rub the sleep out of my eyes, decide "do I really want to put on make-up today?" NAH...throw on some clothes and walk to the cafe a block away. It's one of those mornings when I can say it's just going to be me and God today, hanging out, enjoying each other...

It feels like everything is slower. Even skipping down the entry stairs and waving good morning to the front desk guy seems peaceful. Even keeping my finger on my pepper spray trigger as I rounded the corner almost didn't seem as necessary...almost (I mean come on, peaceful but not unaware!).

Rounding the corner means getting to check out the new Michael Kors window display at Neiman Marcus along the way... "I could pull that off!" or "That color is just too bright for me", but "oooh that is so chic!" It was a "Breakfast at Tiffanys" kind of moment. Admiring the hotel valet guys as they run back and forth to the parking garage, looking at the sun bring out the architectural details of the buildings above me and hearing the "swish swish" of my flip flops down the sidewalk washed away the random thoughts that are usually running through my head.

Arriving at the cafe, Patrick proudly tells me he's been perfecting my white chocolate mocha. So as I sit there and watch him, with stern concentration, fluff up the milk foam and add another squirt of chocolate, I again savor, AHHHH it's one of THOSE mornings. Skillfully avoiding Patrick's flirting, grabbing my "no meat please" breakfast taco and already cooled to sipping perfection mocha, I walk back enjoying the warm happiness now sitting in my stomach.

On the way back I see a man looking for his "white chocolate mocha and breakfast taco" in the corner trash can. We make eye contact, he wishes me good morning and I wish him good morning back. Suddenly I'm that much more appreciative of having one of THOSE mornings.

Starting From Scratch

So guess what? My laptop died...AGAIN!! I just got it back today. I'm beginning to wonder if my old laptop got jealous and put a hex on my new one...c'est la vie

In the meantime I've been keeping pretty busy. Although I did experience a couple of totally boring evenings, I think I've done more in the past few weeks than I'd done all year. In fact, I should probably slow it down a bit. Neither my budget nor my stamina appreciates the vigor. Some days have been lower than low. Others have been...strange. And others yet have been pure joy. All in all, it's been interesting.

But tonight my mind is on deeper things than keeping my social calendar full. Tonight I'm pondering what I truly want to do with my life. I'd written before that if on my death bed I look back and know that I tried all the things that interest me, I would feel I'd lead a satisfying life. But today I have a feeling that there's more to my existence than that. For example, my very good friend is a wonder. She's a fabulous single mom, 15 weeks away from getting her Masters, mentors young women and actually has something called "career goals". Her life is very well rounded. And not to compare, but my life is kinda pointy, very uneven and I feel I'm very much behind the curve. Surely I could be doing more...not more quantity, but more quality.

Three years ago I felt my life had a clear plan and purpose. I'd set my goals, worked towards them and felt like I was on the right track. But lately I've been reevaluating the track. A lot of my time, tears, and energy were spent chasing the desire to be a good wife and mom. Correction, my goal was to be an excellent wife and mom. Motivated by that desire, I too seemed a wonder. I was going places with a lot to offer. But now because of life-changes, I have an opportunity to consider why I was on that track to begin with. What if I don't want to have kids someday? That kinda unravels a lot of work I'd put into the past 10 years of my life. This moment is surreal. It's like living in a house for many years- well appointed, maybe a few signs of wear and tear, but familiar. Then suddenly, you open a door and find your foot dangling into an empty world of white walls. And that's when it hits you- "Damn, I'm starting from scratch."

What kind of design do I want the rest of my life to reflect? Is it traditional? Modern? or Eclectic? Do I want to go for the minimalist feel or comfy casual? Do I even want to share it with any "significant" other (grown up or miniature)? It's all a very daunting thing. Sometimes I'm told by those whose gaze drifts away into the distance as though envisioning their own empty world of white, how brave and fantastic a blank slate would be. The mixture of pain and longing in their eyes makes me wince and appreciate my opportunity. But sometimes I look into the eyes of those who are settled in, like my friend. Most of their boxes and baggage are unpacked and they're very comfortable living their lives. Then my gaze drifts back to the well-appointed house I'd worked so hard to establish and there's pain and longing in my own eyes.

Nevertheless, here I am. I need to spend some time really figuring out if I need to tear down some walls, redesign and go for a totally different space. Or if I just need to move into a new place and rebuild on the same framework. So the walls aren't exactly blank. They've just been painted over. However, starting over doesn't come with the luxury of primer! There's still some remnant of the life I'd planned for myself. I have to be true to that. But I'm hoping that whatever design I finally settle on, I can live with it. At least for a little while...

Do what the monkey says!!

These are my slippers. They are monkeys. They make me laugh. They make me laugh because they are monkeys.

But they also have magical powers. Whenever I don't get my way, I lift one foot in the air, scream "Do what the monkey says!" and I win. I win because they make other people laugh. While they are laughing, I get my way.

I love my slippers.

Take Time to Smell the Sheets

I'm just so excited right now about the opportunities in my life. I'm reconnecting with friends and filling my calendar with activities. For example, Friday night I watched The Princess Bride at the Nasher Sculpture Center. It is one of my FAVORITE movies! You have to have an "inconceivable!" sense of humor to enjoy The Princess Bride. (FYI- Nasher plays movies outdoors in the garden during the summer for free. All you do is grab a blanket and/or pillow, a light meal, and enjoy cinema al fresco. Look into it. Cheap date tip #9! Works well for 1 or a party...) I'd been looking forward to it all week. It was such a lovely evening- shoes off, feeling the grass on my toes, laying on the blanket, gentle breeze, a few stars fighting through the downtown lights and treetops... What peace! I have not stopped smiling!

It's so great getting plugged back into the things that bring me joy. Even doing the laundry today had a sense of oneness (Say what!? Now, that's just crazy talk!). Truly, it grounded me in the moment. A kind of "slow down and smell the sheets" thing. And I did. They're warm and soft and smell like teddy bears bouncing on clouds from some reason... But anyway, it meant there's plenty of time for life, success, failures, and the laundry.

With tuppence for paper and strings...

This pic is of the butterfly kite I just ordered and I'm absolutely giddy over going to fly it somewhere soon. Mostly because of all the promise flying a kite brings. Mr. Banks, Bert and the Londoners put it aptly:

With tuppence for paper and strings
You can have your own set of wings
With your feet on the ground
You're a bird in a flight
With your fist holding tight
To the string of your kite

Oh, oh, oh!
Let's go fly a kite
Up to the highest height!
Let's go fly a kite and send it soaring
Up through the atmosphere
Up where the air is clear
Oh, let's go fly a kite!

When you send it flyin' up there
All at once you're lighter than air
You can dance on the breeze
Over 'ouses and trees
With your first 'olding tight
To the string of your kite

Oh, oh, oh!
Let's go fly a kite
Up to the highest height!
Let's go fly a kite and send it soaring
Up through the atmosphere
Up where the air is clear
Let's go fly a kite!

That first verse just does something in your gut. It makes you feel like you can do anything...with your fist holding tight...! I never thought about the therapeutic benefits of kite-flying before, but I'm willing to bet that a lot of today's ills can be solved by it. I mean really, there's just something about running like mad (without watching where you're going no less) hoping, praying, wishing for the wind to catch your kite just so. And then the peace that washes over you when you look back and see your kite dancing in the sky. Because what it's really saying is with perseverance, a little child-like wonderment, and God smiling on you, you can accomplish something fantastic.

But oh, just remember to stay away from kite-eating trees!

Coming Out of Blog Hiding

My late Pastor once said that change doesn't happen until the pain of staying the same outweighs the pain of changing. Recently that scale tipped for me.

And so, I've been hiding from my blog. I've been hiding because I made a major life-changing decision that was profoundly difficult and very painful. It impacted people I care about and respect. And although I am still working through that bitter reality for myself, at this point all I can do is face those who may be hurt, disappointed, angry or confused and say I'm sorry.

I tried very hard to keep the scale balanced. But eventually it reached the point of "rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic"-status. So rather than continuing to hide from the seemingly judgmental eyes of my former posts, the goal of this post is to provide resolution, not understanding. The goal of this post is to face this, mark this, but keep it moving. The goal of this post, like David in 2 Samuel 12, is to get up from the ground, wash, put on lotions, and change my clothes.

And I will continue to Revive...

A Fish Called Tippy

About 10 years ago, I bought a goldfish from the local pet store. I picked her because she had a beautiful long tail and she seemed to be content...well, as content as you can be for a goldfish at the pet store! When I brought her home, I noticed she had a funny little habit of tipping over whenever she stopped swimming. Most times, she was upright and fine. But when she stopped swimming she would tip over on her nose. I thought it was cute and decided to name her Tippy.

One day I was either reading something about fish or watching a program about fish and it mentioned that when fish have a swim bladder infection (the swim bladder is what helps a fish keep their balance in the water) they lose their sense of balance and will either turn completely upside down or tip over. Which would be similar to when a person has vertigo or an inner-ear infection. I was mortified. At that moment I realized that my fish wasn't being cute, she was sick. And I felt so horrible that I'd named her something based on her illness. Immediately I rushed to the pet store to buy medicine for my poor fish. After a few drops and a few days, Tippy didn't tip over anymore.

Recently, I've discovered a kind of swim bladder infection of my own. I'd thought some of my patterns, behaviors, tendencies and habits were just part of my personality and quirks. But when I really looked at the issue and identified the root of the problem, I had the same heart-wrenching realization I'd experienced with Tippy. It's a sobering thing to look at yourself with new eyes. When you recognize that the perception you had of yourself was based on misreading the signs, and that you viewed your history through eyes that couldn't see clearly, it can make you a little off-balance.

Some of you may have heard of Jenny McCarthy's experience with her autistic son, Austin. She'd talked about the first time the doctor revealed to her that her son's habits and tendencies were actually displays of autism. When she heard that, she said she suddenly couldn't see her little boy anymore. All she saw was the autism. The little things she thought were cute- how he would repeat things, how he lined up his toys, and other habits, were suddenly scary to her. I can relate to that. Not to say that I know the pain and confusion of realizing a child has an illness and feeling helpless to do anything about it. But I know the pain and confusion of feeling helpless and trying to understand who you now are in spite of something that's not quite right.

Seeing the horror in Jenny's eyes, the doctor grabbed her by the hands, made her look him in the eyes and firmly told her- he's still your son. After Tippy got better, she was still Tippy- my goldfish with the long beautiful tail. Venita, you are still Venita. And just now my wonderful husband walked in to tell me he will help me work through this and that he loves me. I hope I can see again who he sees.

The Second Time Around - Celibate, Table for One Part III of III

Two Sundays ago, my husband and I plus all the other couples at our church, renewed our vows. Since the first time around was such a whirlwind because I planned and executed our wedding, I didn't really get a chance to savor the moment of exchanging vows. Even the lady we got to do our cake took a moment to tell me to stop running around on my wedding day!

But for the vow renewal, I came prepared. I pulled my veil out of the closet and wore it for the ceremony. This time I wanted to focus on nothing but my husband and every word I committed to him. It was such a touching moment for us. One that we will treasure as much as the first time. Except we didn't dance a tango afterwards!

So with that being said, I am posting the last installment of Celibate, Table for One.

Breaking-up sucks
So God was proud of me, but my heart still hurt. I wanted my sweet Baby back. Words of encouragement from friends fell flat. I didn’t want to hear about how this one guy broke up with his girlfriend and then 15 years later, they got back together, yay! :-| . I didn’t want to hear about someone being broken up with 3 different times over the issue of celibacy and how the first guy ended up getting engaged to someone else a week after he’d broken up with her, yay! oh goody! :-| . And I surely didn’t want to hear those who, with a tone in their voice and disgusted look as though I had green slime on my face, asked, “It was THAT important to you that you let him go? You weren’t trying to be celibate before so why is it so important now?” Followed by, “Well, I guess. If that’s what you want...” :-| . Did I want my boyfriend to break-up with me? Of course not!

It was easy for people to tell me that God had the best for me in the next guy, but that was what they’d said last time. I wanted someone to tell me that I wouldn’t have to say good-bye to The Best anymore and no one was doing that. My heart was fragile and I was tired of breaking-up. I could have felt animosity towards THE CELIBACY, as though it was some sort of disease that I chose to have. But surprisingly, I didn’t. Instead I could only embrace it. I knew that it protected me and gave me the strength I needed to please God. I reclaimed so many things because of my celibacy. I had the peace of mind to know that he loved me because of me. I didn’t have to go through life wondering if he still respected me after letting the hunter catch his prey. I had the courage to stand up and not compromise on my values. I know that it allowed me to enjoy my relationship with open eyes and clearly evaluate his character as a potential life-mate and not be clouded by the blinders that often come up after sex. He cherished me and everyone could see it. Celibacy freed me up to see the difference between the types of love- Godlike-love, friendship-love and sexual-love – and the importance and proper place of all three in a relationship.

Before celibacy, I’d lost my right to stand in confidence through righteousness. Doubt was allowed to roam in and out of my heart because I was not standing in God’s will. Those relationships trained me to use sex as a way for spending time together. It trained me to compromise on other values and my self-respect. It sent a personal invitation to many things that I’d always said, “I would never...” to. I’d tasted a pinch of Godlike-love mixed with sexual-love; or a cup of friendship-love and a pound of sexual-love; or a dash of all three. In celibacy I had a heaping of Godlike-love and a heaping of friendship-love and I could smell the aroma of sexual love baking in the oven and I was sitting at the table ready to eat!

So the moral of the story is, now I understand why it was hard for him. Now I understand and will remember that God loves me. Now I understand that I wouldn’t trade celibacy for what I had before. And so, my man and I got back together and we never broke up again and everything is wonderful now. :-| . Yes, I understand. No, he’s not back. But everything is still wonderful. The moral of the story is I’m still a victorious Rocky Balboa because I took yesterday to change today, and I’m using today to make a worthwhile tomorrow. And I will rinse and repeat. Celibacy isn’t my reservation for life-long loneliness. It just sets me apart from the crowd. It marks me with a seal that says, “You have to be a real man to handle this. Wimps need not apply.” So I sit here alone at my table for one, with two chairs and the aroma of a tasty dish wafting from the kitchen. All I can say is, “Bring it on!"

So the surprise twist ending I hinted about in the first installment is...this was written about my NOW husband and I the first time we dated. At the time I wrote this I didn't know the end of our story. Several years later, we reconnected and started dating again. The second time around he was able to join me on the journey and committed to staying celibate until our wedding night. In the end, the sacrifice, the heartache, and the maturity we developed in our experience gave us the security in our relationship we both enjoy. It certainly wasn't easy, but it is continuing to be worth it. Sometimes it isn't until the second time around that you really get to enjoy it.

Moments with Daddy

Few things are more precious to a daughter than private moments shared with her father. One of my fondest moments was waking up in the middle of the night to find my father having a midnight snack of sardines slathered with Tabasco sauce and a stack of crackers nearby. Although I never admitted that I didn't really care for the salty fishies, I just enjoyed having that moment eating sardines and crackers with my dad. So much so, he often would invite me to join him and I would just go along with it to have our special time together.

Another favorite memory was one day when my father discovered I had come across and enjoyed listening to his Keb' Mo' CD. That summer Keb' Mo' came to town and Dad bought tickets for us to see him perform live. We went on our date to the Angelica theatre and had a great time! One of my favorite Keb' Mo' songs is Lullaby Baby Blues. I vowed to learn the song so I could sing it to my children one day. Back in the days before Lyrics.com existed, I just listened to the CD over and over again until I'd gotten all the words. I came across that scrap of paper that I'd used to scratch out the lyrics today while cleaning up. So I wanted to share the song and lyrics with you.

So this is dedicated to my moments with Daddy...


Lullaby baby blues
time to kick off your walking shoes
and hug the pillow on your bed
and lay down your sleepy head

Hush now no need to talk
hear the ticking of the clock
stars that twinkle, stars that shine
dream and you'll have wings to fly

Goodnight baby blues
close your eyes baby blues
the moonlit sky watches over you
so close your eyes, baby blues

Lullaby baby blues
time to kick off your walking shoes
and hug the pillow on your bed
and lay down your sleepy head

Goodnight baby blues
close your eyes, baby blues
the moonlit sky watches over you
so close your eyes, baby blues
close your eyes, baby blues, baby blues

Funny what you can find in the bottom of a box

So we're in the process of moving. Step 1 was shred all papers that are too old and faded to keep. Step 2 was clean out the garage and get rid of moldy smelling items. Somewhere between Step 1 and 2 I came across a box in the garage that had a few little keepsakes that gave me a giggle so I saved them from the shredder. I figured I'd share...

One of them was 26 Things To Do in an Elevator. And no, I did not come up with these but my sick humor finds them hilarious.

1) Bring a camera and take pictures of everyone in the elevator.
2) Move your desk into the elevator and whenever someone gets on, ask if they have an appointment.
3) Lay down a Twister mat and ask people if they'd like to play.
4) Leave a box in a corner and when someone gets on, ask if they hear something ticking.
5) Pretend you are a flight attendant and review emergency procedures and exits with the passengers.
6) Ask, "Did you feel that?"
7) Stand really close to someone, sniffing them occasionally.
8) When the doors close, announce to the others, "It's okay, don't panic. They'll open up again."
9) Swat at flies that don't exist.
10) Tell people that you can see their aura.
11) Call out, "Group Hug!" and enforce it.
12) Grimace painfully while smacking your forehead and muttering, "Shut up. All of you. Just Shut Up!!"
13) Crack open your briefcase or purse and while peering inside, say "Got enough air in there?"
14) Stand silently and motionless in the corner facing the wall without getting off.
15) Stare at another passenger for awhile, then announce in horror, "You're one of THEM." and back away slowly.
16) Wear a puppet on your hand, and use it to talk to the other passengers.
17) Listen to the elevator walls with a stethoscope.
18) Make explosion noises when anyone presses a button.
19) Ask if you can push the button for other people, but push the wrong ones.
20) Stare grinning at another passenger for awhile then announce, "I have new socks on!"
21) Draw a little square on the floor with chalk and announce to the other passengers, "The is MY personal space!!"
22) When there's only one other person in the elevator, tap them on the shoulder and pretend it wasn't you.
23) Push the buttons and pretend they give you a shock.
24) Call the Psychic Hotline from your cell phone and ask if they know what floor you're on.
25) Hold the doors open and say that you're waiting for your friend. After awhile, let the doors close and and say, "Hi Greg, how's your day been?"
26) Drop a pen and wait until someone reaches to help pick it up, and then scream "That's mine!"

I will not be held responsible if you choose to do any of the above. But I hope one day I can be brave enough to try just one!

Control-Freaking Out

Hello, my name is Venita and I'm a control freak.
Hello Venita!

In case you haven't noticed, it's been almost a month since I posted anything on my blog. It would be easier to say that it's because my life has been so boring these past 30 days that I haven't had anything to write about. How I wish that were true!

In fact, more stuff has been happening than I can keep up with. Good things, but none the less, not things that have provided me the luxury of keeping all my plates spinning in the air. In fact, I feel a little wobbly myself. And as a control freak, it's really perturbing to me!

But I'm going to do something out of character and see if I survive. I'm going to *DEEP BREATH* LET - IT - GO *EXHALE*

I'm not going to have a melt down because I'm not on top of everything right now. I'm not going to feel guilty because I haven't posted anything since April 21st. I'm not going to even think about how we have exactly 64 days to move, or that the ministry I'm working with thrust greatness upon me totally unexpectedly, or that work has been picking up steam, or that I have to buy my nephew a birthday present, my brother a congratulations on your graduation card or that the dust bunnies in our bedroom have appendages and can now move...*HYPER VENTILATE* and *EXHALE*

But it's cool...I'm not going to even think about any of that stuff.

WILL WORK FOR TOYS

If you haven't seen the movie, "The Bucket List", it's truly an inspiring movie. I wasn't too excited about seeing it when it was in the theaters. Mostly because if I had a choice to watch Adam Rodriguez ala CSI Miami for an hour versus crusty Jack Nicolson and Morgan Freeman for two hours, I'd pick CSI Miami. But thanks to Netflix, you don't have to compromise. It came last week and it was so fun.

What I took away from the movie is affirmation of the way I desire to live my life- if I want to know how something works, how to do something, or just get the idea, "hmm I wonder what that's like", I do it. I'm not driven by career or accumulating wealth. I'm driven by curiosity. I really only work to pay for my toys and adventures. I have closets literally and figuratively full of stuff I've tried. If I liked it, it stayed around. If I didn't, eh whatever, now I know. As a matter of fact, in my line of vision is my cello (which I still love, I just don't have the patience for) leaning in the corner, which is next to my bread maker (which was pretty useful actually), and out the window are my gardening supplies (which was pretty fun until the grubs ate my corn stalks) on the balcony. But hey, now I know. And yeah, you don't want to come over. It's pretty junky around here! LOL!

I've recently learned to love that about myself rather than be disappointed in how quickly I get bored. Some might call it flaky. I just call it me. At the end of my life, I want to say I satisfied my curiosity.

So The Bucket List inspired me to keep it up. Instead of waiting until you're about to die to realize you're alive, live now! Life is for the living.

Sarah Connor

I've loved motorcycles ever since I was a little girl. In fact, when I recently broke the news to my parents that I intend to finally get one and my father practically had a heart attack from the news, my mother had to remind him how I've wanted a motorcycle instead of a car even before I got my driver's permit! So it's no surprise that I would still want one. And I have found IT. THE bike.

Now, when I was little, I thought there was nothing better than a Hog. So I mean no disrespect to the Harley-Davidson gods...But right now there is nothing better than a Yamaha Raider S. And I just found out today that they make one in a color called Liquid Silver. *drool* It has totally changed my whole outlook on the custom paint job I wanted to get- Dark purple with a fade to black and a neon green EKG down the middle emphasizing the "V". Instead, the manufacturer's Liquid Silver might just be enough for me. And so, I intend to name her "Sarah Connor". *Choir Sings*

My only obstacle at the moment from getting "Sarah Connor" *Choir Sings* is my husband. He suffers from the same mistake that my parents did long ago; that I should get a car rather than a motorcycle. Well, I was a little kid back then. I didn't have a choice. But this time around, I'm grown. I'm getting my bike!

This Christmas, Momma wants leathers.

One more time for good measure- "Sarah Connor" *Choir Sings*

Isn't she pretty?!