Carlene

If you have been friends with me for very long, or have read any amount of my blogs, I am sure you are aware of my fascination with airports.

I won't bore you by repeating myself...too much anyways. Coming and going. Meeting and greeting. Airports and aircrafts seem to be the crossroads for so many wonderful things in life.

All that said, each time I board an airplane, I look forward to seeing who I will be seated by and the stories I will get to hear. Yes, I am that annoying stranger you dread sitting by who will make you enter into conversation for the majority of your air travel time.

The day after Thanksgiving, I headed to the airport to travel to Phoenix to visit my sister and her family (I'll spare you from talking about my nieces right now. You know I could talk about how much I love them all day and then some more once I caught my breath). I booked my flight for  6:30 a.m.

In addition to the lack of sleep, I didn't account for the silence that would follow during my travel as a consequence.

As it turns out, most people prefer to keep to themselves during air travel. This truth is amplified at before 8 a.m. The closed eyelids and whimpers of snores in the seat next to me signaled that the only conversations I would hear during that flight would be between Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks through my ear buds (You've Got Mail never seems to get old, does it?).

My return flight to Dallas after my week long visit, however, made up for the initial leg of the trip.

Standing in line to board the plane, a couple in their late 50's began to talk to me. The smiles on their faces were telling of a story waiting to be told, so I, in turn, asked them where they were traveling to and why. As it turned out, they were headed to Albuquerque for the birth of their 3rd grandchild. They told me they had 6 kids of their own. The love in their eyes and warmth in their voices matched what they said. "Celebrating new life and family never gets old."

On my flight to reach my connection in Albuquerque, I sat next to a woman named Barb. She owns a company that makes the concrete blocks used to build WalMarts and told me all about her daughters upcoming wedding. While my conversation with her was completely pleasant, that's not what I am writing to tell you about.

As I boarded my flight in Albuquerque to reach Dallas, I searched for a window seat that was open not in the very back of the plane. I spotted one about midway and asked the woman on the aisle if the seat was taken. She told me no with a smile and let me slide in. As the flight attendant signaled that we were going to take off, the woman on the aisle and I realized that we had an empty seat between us, and we both agreed we were happy to have the extra space. We shared a laugh and introduced ourselves.

Her name was Carlene.

Have you ever met someone that exuded joy? I am not sure I had ever met someone who fully fit and deserved that description before that flight. Carlene is in her mid 60's and had short, brown hair. Her eyes had a smile of their own and her voice seemed to be the agent to deliver that contagious smile to anyone she talks to.

Carlene was traveling to Dallas to see her niece in a school production of the Little Mermaid. I shared the details of my trip to Phoenix with her, and before I knew it, we were sharing pictures, stories, and the things going on in our lives like we had known each other for years.

Carlene had just returned from a trip to Africa three weeks earlier. She shared her photos and stories with me for more than an hour. She showed me pictures of lions, ostriches, and trees that looked like they were taken straight out of a scene from the Lion King. She told me how she danced with a local tribe in South Africa and about a "tent" she stayed in during one leg of her trip that had marble bathroom countertops.

As it turned out, this wasn't the first trip she had been on. She retired from a printing company (we bonded over talking about photography and journalism) several years back and is now a part of a small travel group that travels the world centered out of Idaho.

In addition to her travel group, Carlene takes a trip with a group of 13 girls she went to high school with each year. She told me that even though they are now in their 60's, each time they get together, it is like not a single day has passed since their high school graduation.

Later in the conversation, I learned that Carlene was widowed in 1990. I told her I was sorry, but she told me not to be. Here is what she said instead. "When that happened to me, I had a choice. I could let the sadness define my life, or I could get out there and keep living. I've chosen to fill my life with places, experiences, and the love of my family. That choice to live has given me more joy in the past 23 years of my life than I could have ever hoped to experience my whole life."

She advised me to do the same thing...to get out and see the world and not take any person or experience in my life for granted. She looked me in the eye at the end of the flight and told me that it was lovely to share conversation on our flight. When she stood up, she looked back and told me that she knew good things were going to come in my life. She said she could just tell. I hope she is right.

I don't know Carlene's last name, I don't have her phone number, and I probably will never see her again. However, I hope to take a little piece of Carlene with me for the rest of my life. She had experienced joy, and she had expereinced life and did what came natural to her on that flight.

She shared it.

That's the thing about joy. It's contagious. It's evident. It's life giving.

I may not have traveled the world (at least not yet) like Carlene and have a few less years under my belt, but as I look ahead and look at today, I know this. I have the opportunity to continuously choose joy. We have all been given life and the opportunity to live it.

 A life well lived in my opinion, is not measured by the amount of money you make or the number of posessions you have, but instead by the moments you choose to live fully. Moments, people, and  opportunites, no matter how big or small, are placed in front of us each day.

Amongst the chaos and even in the negative, there is always good if you look for it. As long as God is real, and He always will be, we can trust that He has our best in mind and is present if we will just look for Him. Do we choose to dwell on the past and wallow in our sorrows, or do we choose to live? Joy is found in living each moment and filling life with the love that is already around us. Carlene reminded me of that.

To be honest, I don't know what my life holds or where I will be in ten years. I can only pray that wherever that is and whoever is involved, that I can experience half the joy and half the life that Carlene shared with me on that 2 hour flight.

Thank you Carlene and thanks to each of you who already fill my life with joy. Each of you are a blessing, and I am more thankful for you than you know.

I couldn't hope or pray for more than this. A life filled with joy that can't help but be shared with others.

Here's to new adventures.

Life is beautiful isn't it? I was reminded of that today.

Today, my second niece, Harper Sophia Codd came into the world. I saw her for the first time today on FaceTime at the hospital (isn't technology grand?) in Phoenix. Just as I knew she would be, she is beautiful and perfect. I'll be honest, the tears were flowing on my side of the screen, and I am sure they will once again when I meet her face to face in a few weeks.

The past week as we were all awaiting her arrival into the world (she took her sweet time), I became a bit nostalgic. I began looking through old pictures of my niece, Audrey, who is now 3 and a half years old.

Living in a different city, it has been breathtaking each time I have gone to visit to see the changes that can happen even over a few months. I remember crying the first time I held Audrey when she was a newborn baby. It seems I blinked, and before I knew it she was running around the living room, laughing when I spilled my cereal, singing songs, and asking me to paint glitter on her fingernails. Last week when I called, she told me her Bible verse of the week and told me all about Jonah going to Ninevah (I think she is pretty smart, but I’m a bit partial).

Being an aunt has hands down been one of the biggest blessings and joys in my life.  There aren’t words to describe the way my heart has grown for that little girl over the past 3 years.

After hundreds of pictures (literally. I feel as an aunt it is my duty to always have a camera in hand) and countless memories, today we start a new chapter. The phrase "favorite niece" is gone from my vocabulary, but I gladly exchange it for two new ones: "big sister" and "little sister". I can't wait to see this relationship unfold with my two favorite angels. 

Last week, I was talking to Audrey about when I will come to Phoenix to visit in a few weeks. I asked her if we could go on some adventures when I got there, to which she replied with a twinkle in her eye, “Oh I looovvve adventures.”

Helen Keller said, “Life is a daring adventure, or nothing.”

I think she and my niece have the right idea. Each day we are given is a new adventure. A journey into the unknown.  Do we dare to approach it as such?

The days we are given are numbered. I don’t know what that number reads for any of us, but I do know that no number of days could be large enough to discount the beauty and joy to be uncovered each day.

Life is short. Take a risk. Open your heart. Be yourself. Find your passion. Sing the song that only you can sing. Live the life God created you to live.

You know the scene in the Pixar movie UP that recounts Carl and Ellie's life? It makes me cry every time, but that is beside the point. In it, they have an adventure book that they fill with memories.

I want the pages of my life to be filled with adventure. By that I mean, I want to live a life where I wake each day and embrace whatever is in front of me, simple or not, familiar or unfamiliar, near or far. I too want to love adventures and love life. I believe we are called by God to love and seek out what that looks like for the people and situations we come into contact with each day.

Life and love are both beautiful, aren’t they? Don’t miss out on either. They are both right in front of and all around you. Here’s to new adventures. Here’s to new life. And here’s to loving every step of the way. 

And here's to my favorite 3 year old princess, Audrey. I can't wait to watch your adventure as a big sister unfold. This is just the beginning. You are going to change the world. You have already changed mine.

Happy birthday sweet baby Harper. Your parents have done a phenomenal job raising your sister and teaching her the love of Christ, and I know they will do the same with you. The world may be new for you today, but you are already loved more than you could ever know.

Oh, and here’s to many, many more pictures. You only regret the ones you don’t take. 

In case you were wondering what 3 years of nostalgia (and 3 years of hairstyles) looks like, here is a taste. Time flies.

 

 

Monday mornings and coffee mugs

Are you superstitious? I'm not. At least I don't think I am.

Although I occasionally find myself knocking on wood, most superstitions seem rather trivial and far stretched when I think about them.

I looked up a list of common superstitions, and all the ones you would expect were on the list including, Friday the 13th, walking under a ladder, breaking a mirror, and opening an umbrella indoors. Though I have never broken a mirror, I have walked under a ladder, lived through many Friday the 13th's with no notable harm, and have opened a handful of umbrellas indoors (in my opinion, it is best to check that the umbrella works before you step outside with one that doesn't in a downpour), and the promised impending "bad luck" that follows these actions has yet to catch up with me. Knock on... never mind.

My actions Monday morning, however, made me question the logical connection I make between my actions and the impending "luck" to follow.

Yesterday, I followed my usual "before work" routine. I got out of bed (with an extra hour of sleep... thank you daylight savings), got ready for work, headed to the kitchen, and turned my Keurig on. I placed a blue coffee mug I purchased in Destin, Florida reading "The Donut Hole" on the side under the brewer and pressed the button to begin brewing my daily dose of caffeine (the first one anyways). While the water heated up, I went to the cupboard to get a pan out to start making breakfast and abruptly stopped.

Several thoughts crossed my mind. It's Monday. It's going to be a good day. That's not the coffee mug I want to use. Where is my favorite coffee mug?

I quickly found what I was looking for (a deep floral mug I purchased at Anthropologie in college) and replaced the blue mug with the floral one before the coffee began to drip. That was a close one.

At 6:30 yesterday morning, it was perfectly logical that starting the day by drinking coffee out of my favorite mug would greatly improve my Monday trajectory.

Can the color and shape of my coffee mug actually impact the outcome of my day? Probably not. However, we all have our quirks and rhythms we choose to walk to (please tell me I'm not the only one), and honestly, many things appear logical before sunrise that probably are not.

Most mornings I am in a rush. No matter how early I wake up or how much preparation I make for the next day the night before, I always find myself scrambling to cook my eggs, down a cup of coffee and make it out the door by 7:30 (Thank goodness my television doesn't pick up Good Morning America, I would have to wake up an hour early to compensate).

I always seem to find time to make a warm breakfast, change my clothes two times, and pick out the perfect coffee mug, all of which seem to be of the utmost importance at the time. It's the things that I let slip through the cracks, though, that truly have an impact. Something I read yesterday reminded me of that.

Psalm 5:3 In the morning, O LORD, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait in expectation.

No matter what I do or how I prepare for my day, sometimes I forget that I am not the one in control. I am not in the driver's seat. I can't change the world or my own life on my own. I am so quick to forget that the Lord is the one who guides my every step. He is the one who gives me opportunities, and all good things and all blessings come from Him. 

If I am so quick to nourish my body (which I know is important), why do I sometimes neglect to nourish my soul. I love in the verse above where it talks about the morning. I have always been a morning person. There is just something special about knowing that a whole day lies ahead with moments, places, and stories to experience. This verse is such a great reminder that the Lord wants us to invite Him to go through each moment and experience of the day with us. 

The mornings I neglect to pray, the mornings I neglect to take time to stop and listen, and the mornings I neglect to spend time in the Word, I can almost always notice a difference. Not a positive one. So many days, after a few hours have passed on the clock,  I notice my thoughts becoming anxious or negative and a heavy feeling in my heart. I never once have stopped and traced those thoughts to my coffee mug. More often than not, when those feelings arise, a crucial step in my morning more than likely was neglected. 

"I lay my requests before you and wait in expectation."

We don't serve a God of luck or one of superstition, but one of promises. One that we can approach and trust that He will act. We can present our day to him in the morning and expect Him to act. We can expect Him to work in our lives and in the lives of those around us. He works in the good and the bad, and in the crazy and the mundane. 

I want to have a heart that draws me to the Lord from the moment I wake to the moment I sleep. I want to invite Him into my day before I even head to the cupboard or lay my fingers on a mug. Lord give me that heart. Fuel my mornings and fuel my day with a desire to be closer to you walking hand in hand, moment by moment.

Tomorrow is Wednesday. It is going to be a great day. Lord, I invite you to walk through it with me. Open my eyes to see the good, the beauty, and the opportunities you place all around me. 

Life around the table.

A couple of weeks ago, I had the pleasure of two of my worlds colliding. A group of women that I am in a small group with at church came to volunteer for the nonprofit I work for.

The homeowners I get to meet, the stories I get to hear, and the conversations I get to have are by far my favorite part of what I do. Building up to the volunteer day, I was thrilled to get to share a small piece of that with this group of friends who have gained a special place in my heart over the past year.

The couple who welcomed us into their home that Saturday morning might just be two of the most delightful people I have ever met. Mr. B is a World War II veteran, and he has been married to Mrs. B. for 60 years. Their children are grown, one a missionary in Russia and the other the pastor of the local church they attend. Their living room is covered in family photos, reminiscent of years of heartfelt memories. Love lives in that home and you can feel it as soon as you walk in the door.

In the list of home repairs they asked for, Mrs. B added one request on to the end, one for her favorite room in their home. The kitchen. That's where we came in. By the time we were finished with our volunteer day, the walls and cabinets were a lovely light mint green color. Though the transformation was beautiful, something else resonated with me more.

After we painted, we put everything back in its place including the kitchen table. Though the home and kitchen were small, the table was not. The ratio of space it took up in the room spoke to its value and importance in the home. Mrs. B is constantly in her kitchen baking Amish bread (apple, pumpkin...you name it, she bakes it) and stores the loaves in the freezer to hand out to anyone who visits her home. The day our group painted, Mrs. B was at a church retreat, but baked two fresh loaves and left them for a snack since she knew we were coming. After Mr. B took a look at the paint job, we all gathered around the table, sliced up the bread, and shared what i will always cherish as a memory together.

While we were surrounding the table, Mr. B asked us all to write down our names so his wife could pray for us each by name. He kindly told us that she prays for everyone in America. We all gladly obliged. How can you say no to that?  He told us fellowship is a big part of his and Mrs. B's life and assured us that we were all welcome in their home any time we wanted to stop by.

I am currently reading a book by one of my favorite authors, Shauna Niequest, called Bread and Wine. One of my good friends, Allison, introduced me to Shauna (I like to think we are on a first name basis), and I was immediately hooked. Shauna speaks my language- food, fellowship, and stories. In all of her books, this one in particular, Shauna highlights the beauty of living life around the table. She insinuates that some of life's best moments happen while sharing the breaking of bread. I can't help but agree.

I don't know about you, but I love food. I love to bake it, cook it, and eat it. I love the colors, the smells, and the tastes. Though God created us all uniquely, there are some things we all have in common, one being that food is an essential part of our lives. I believe that beauty comes in sharing that commonality together. Perhaps God created that need in the human body to draw us together for one common purpose, to create a central meeting point in our lives, a point to stop and to share. The chance to share an old memory and the opportunity to create new ones to cherish in the process.

Some of my favorite times are spent sitting across the table from those that I love the most. Whether it is cooking a meal together or sharing conversation over a cup of coffee, there is something about the table that I love.

I love to listen, and I love stories. I love learning where people have come from, what they are going through, and what God is teaching them through it. Maybe thats why I love the table so much. It creates  a space for all of those things. A space without technology, without the scurrying of feet to get somewhere, and without an agenda.

Sharing a meal is an invitation to share the heart. Though I would love a table large enough to seat all of my closest friends, I am just as happy with one set for two.

I think Shauna and Mr. and Mrs. B have the right idea, and I hope one day, my table can be as inviting as theirs. A home, a table, and life aren't made to be empty. They are meant to be filled. Filled with heartfelt relationships and deep love and overflowing with stories of life's beauty and God's goodness.

May your life always hold a place to call home. May your home always hold a table. And may your table always be overflowing with recipes worth sharing, those people you cherish the most, and moments that make you stop and recognize God's love and blessings each and every day.

{fresh air}

Fresh air. It's a necessity, isn't it?

"Take a deep breath." "Why don't you go get some fresh air?" These are phrases typically said to us when we need to slow down, take a chill pill, or gain new perspective. Our words and actions can speak volumes, and often, those actions apparently signify that there is something we need more of-- fresh air.

Two weeks ago marked the last full week of summer. Oklahoma temperatures didn't disappoint, giving us all a nice show of temperatures in the 90's with a steady dose of humidity. Starbucks had released the Pumpkin Spice Latte early this year as a part of a "ten year celebration", sweaters and boots flooded the department stores, and the Hobby Lobby aisles were already transitioning over to Christmas decor. Everything surrounding us signified that Fall had arrived (a false sense of reality mind you). However, walking out the door of Starbucks with a steamy hot PSL into a balmy 95 degrees leaves much to be desired.

The after affects of this dual season limbo, it seemed,  were apparent every way I turned. Hobby Lobby and Starbucks are to blame. Someone has to be, right? Anticipation is a good thing sometimes, but once it takes precedence over being grateful for the present moment, it becomes a detriment. I could see it in traffic, in the demeanor of clients at work, and even in my own general disposition. I believe I even used the word "cranky" to describe myself one day. I'm never cranky. Something was wrong. My boss and I decided that we both needed to sit out on our front porches in temperatures chilly enough for a sweatshirt, with a warm coffee mug to lift the muggy air and demeanor seeming to surround everyone we encountered that week. We needed some fresh air.

 Lucky for us, our prayers were answered, and as the calendar changed seasons, so did the air.  A cool front swiftly arrived with a does of fresh crisp Autumn air. One of my favorite things to do is to watch the sunrise. Last Monday, I woke up a few minutes early, got ready for work, and headed to a coffee shop patio. The clock on my phone signified I had a few minutes to spare before the sun made it's scheduled arrival. I ordered my coffee, found an east facing chair on the patio, and I waited. As the colors began to spread on the horizon, I took a deep breath. A smile quickly spread across my face. It was the fresh air I had been waiting for. The air was crisp, my sweater was warm, and the horizon was wide and beautiful.

In the past week, I have encountered countless breaths of fresh air. I have the pleasure of meeting many new faces each week at work. The conversations I was blessed to have this week were evidence of the fresh air surrounding us. I encountered more joy, thankfulness, and optimism in the past week than I have in the past month. Maybe we all just needed a change.

Fall is my favorite time of year. I love the colors, the leaves, the smells, and the tastes. The list could go on and on.  Maybe more than anything else though, I love the change. The contrast between Summer and Fall is one of the largest characteristically between seasons, in my opinion. Along with change comes new opportunities, fresh beginnings, and the chance to discover something new and beautiful that seemed to be lost in the long summer months. A change in the seasons almost seems to be a forced and necessary "breath of fresh air".

Sometimes I think we get too set in our routines, bogged down with our schedules, and so consumed with our own lives that we forget to look up and recognize what is already surrounding us. Whether it is Summer, Spring, Fall, or Winter, we are surrounded with things to be grateful for, creation to be in awe of, and opportunities to make the world a better place. Sometimes it takes a change in scenery, seasons, or situations to grasp our attention long enough for us to recognize the gap between where we are and what it takes to get us to where we want to be.

Life is full of seasons, not just the ones on the calendar. The good news is though, God provides changes in our own personal seasons just when we need them. We don't have to wait 3 months for the calendar season to change to get a good dose of fresh perspective. Too often, we view change as a negative thing. We focus on what we have lost, the inconvenience, and ways we can avert shifting the way we do life. Maybe what we view as harm, God intends for good. I think the seasons in our lives are full of teaching moments. Without change, we wouldn't grow and we wouldn't move forward, and perhaps we would miss out on being a part of the very thing God created us to do. I pray that my life is full of seasons of purpose, seasons sent by God himself.

Lord, open my eyes to the seasons and changes you place in front of me. Don't let me become consumed in my desires for my own life. When I do and when I fail, send me a breath of your fresh air. Fill me up, refresh me, and guide me. Send me seasons that challenge, shape, and mold me into who you want me to become. Guide me to where you want me to be and who you want me to meet. Give me a grateful heart and servants feet no matter what season, long or short, I am in. Amen.

A penny for your thoughts.

A couple of days ago, I was cleaning out my closet. I found a lot of things that I won't bore you with, mostly singular items I had "misplaced" like socks and earrings. One item in particular though, I found an excess of. Pennies.

I found pennies on the floor, in the bottom of purses, and lining the edges of plastic tubs I used when I moved a year ago. I made a pile and decided I would deal with it when I was done cleaning. When that time came, however, I wasn't sure what to do with them. I was tempted to dump them back in the bottom of a drawer. In an attempt to have an organized closet, I decided that would be an unacceptable choice. Instead, I found a small "bank" shaped like an elephant a friend had brought me back from India. It had been displayed on my bookshelf for months, but I had forgotten it's original function. The pennies from my closet filled the small elephant to the brim.

When I was younger, I had several piggy banks (they were shaped like pigs, not elephants just to clarify). In them I placed any spare coin I could find. As a 7 year old, cash, coins in my case, was king. For some reason, I found joy in dumping all the coins out, counting them, and then filling my pig once again. We eventually would trade the coins in for cash, but not until I had saved enough pennies to make an unnecessary purchase on the toy aisle at Target or Walmart.

Now, since I use a debit card for most purchases, I find coins to be somewhat of a nuisance. They come in handy for some things, like purchasing 75 cent drinks at Quik Trip in the summer. Even still, I am referring to silver colored coins. Who wants to count out 75 pennies for the convenience store cashier (I don't recommend this unless you want a dirty look from the person in line behind you)?

I am guilty of throwing away a penny a time or two and vacuuming up my fair share as well. Please don't scold me. I know it's bad.  Most of the time though, I leave them where they are, ignore their value, and decide I will deal with them later.

Last week, I was out on a volunteer site to take pictures for work. These particular volunteers are out every Wednesday and have come to expect me stopping by to take photographs of the progress they make on their projects. Our conversation usually consists of them explaining construction terms to me, talking about the current weather, and me being scolded for wearing ballet flats on a construction site.

Last Wednesday however, one of the volunteers got on the topic of his faith and soon realized I was a believer too. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a penny and handed it to me. He said he keeps a handful of these in his pocket to give to special ladies such as myself.

This, however, was not an ordinary penny. Right in the center, there was a hole in the shape of a cross. The volunteer looked at me and said, "God is good, isn't He?" I quickly agreed. He then told me that volunteering reminds Him of that fact each week. "The Lord is good. He gives us things to do and shows us people we should help."

I walked away toward my car thinking what great perspective this man had. I then began to wonder how many opportunities to help and serve others I miss out on because I don't look for them, brush them aside, or think they are too little to make a difference.

Whether I choose to recognize it or not, pennies have value. One penny may only be worth one cent, but multiplied, pennies added together can make all the difference.

It is easy to give small opportunities to serve a "penny's" glance. We ask ourselves if the small things we do can really make a difference. We sometimes get overwhelmed thinking about the world's problems , decide we can't make a difference because the dent we would make would be so small, and instead of acting, push these opportunities to the side of our mind in a "pile" to deal with later.

What would happen if we began to look for these opportunities that are so easy to overlook?  What if the things that we think have small value have the most value in God's eyes?

I don't think God has called any one particular person in the world to end world hunger, end poverty, and implement world peace on their own. I do however, think we forget that we as believers are all a part of one body that works together.

1 Corinthians 12: 27 says ^"Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it." 

Though we may feel the impact we can make on our own is small, we have to remember that the small workings of many aren't so small any more once they are added together.

God places different opportunities in front of each of us to serve Him and others each day. The opportunities I see will be different than the ones placed in front of you. You have the opportunity to make a difference in the day and life of someone else that perhaps no one else will. No matter how big or small the opportunity may be, the Lord has given it to you. You just have to choose to see it. 

I know I need to stop vacuuming up my pennies. You don't have to tell me twice. I know they have value. Even more so though, I want to make a conscious choice to open my eyes to notice the small things God places in my path each day. Opportunities to love and chances to serve. Things that shouldn't be brushed aside to deal with later.

I don't ever want to forget that those things that have little value in the eyes of man and appear to be only specks on the sidewalk of humanity, when looked at through they eyes of the Lord, are magnified in value beyond what we can imagine.  

Thanks for being in my box.

Thanks for spending last Thursday night with me. You might be scratching your head and thinking I have finally fallen off my rocker (I caught you. Shame on you for thinking of me that way.) You might tell me you were watching a game on tv, that you were out at your favorite restaurant, or even that you were sitting at home on your couch. Regardless of what your schedule read, you probably would still argue that you most certainly did not spend the evening with me. As I often do, I agree to disagree. Even if you were doing something else, some of you were here with me, too. In my box.

I am by no means a hoarder. These days, I might consider myself more of a minimalist actually. However, there are still some things I can not and will not bring myself to part with. On the top shelf of my laundry room, I keep a box. In it, I store every letter, sticky note or card that has been given to me. I started this collection of sentiments during college and plan on continuing for the rest of my life.

There is a certain intentionality, thoughtfulness, warmth, and love that can only be ascertained through receiving and reading a handwritten note. Whether it is a birthday card, an encouraging note, or a verse written out on scrap paper, these words, when imparted with a pen onto paper, become timeless.

We live in a text messaging, Facebook stalking, say it when its convenient kind of world. Almost all communication is done through technology. Bookstores are closing, and the written news is making its way to a virtual context. The United States Postal System has begun to cut it's workforce, and it seems the time of the handwritten note has passed. If we want to communicate with someone, we pick up our cell phone, which is most likely already in our hand, and type out a quick text message without even having to stop what we were already doing.

Don't get me wrong. I love your text messages. I love the convenience just as much as you do and would be more than frustrated if I had to wait a week for the postal system to get you my message asking you how your day is going. I would ask you on Monday, you wouldn't receive it until Friday at the earliest, and then you would probably be confused as to which day I was asking about. Let's avoid the confusion and keep the modern communication going.

I know this isn't 1940. Postage stamps aren't always readily at hand, and the world is quickly technologically advancing whether I like it or not (seems as though Apple doesn't call me to ask me my opinion on such matters...their loss).  Forgoing modern communication methods won't do us any favors. Your boss and your best friend will probably be angry with you if you stop answering their text messages and emails. We can't have that. I know those are two integral people in my every day life.

However, just because we participate in and embrace the new, does that mean we have to abolish the old?

Back to last Thursday night. I had a night free at home for the first time in weeks and a couple of hours until a friend was stopping by. I pulled out my box from the top shelf of my laundry room and began to sift through. My box is overflowing and won't stay shut without a large rubber band. It will soon need a companion to help hold its contents. As I flipped through pieces of paper, envelopes, sticky notes, and postage stamps, warmth filled my heart, the kind of warmth a latte gives you on a crisp Fall day.

In my box I found letters sent from foreign countries you sent me while you were abroad. I found notes you wrote me during class in college. I even found the cloth hankie you let me have when I was crying in my dorm room my freshman year of college. In my box, I found memories we made, laughs we shared, landmarks we celebrated, and burdens you helped me bear. On Thursday night, in a pile of paper with curves of ink, I found our friendship and the love that will always be between us. And I found it because you cared. You took the time to stop what you were doing. You were intentional. When you wrote me that note, you might not have known what you were doing. You gave me a gift that I will treasure for the rest of my life. Those words you wrote on my birthday in 2007 not only blessed and encouraged me then, but also in September 2013. The thank you note you wrote me in 2009 reminded me to pray for you in 2011. Your words are timeless and, in that, so are you.

In a note I found that one of my journalism professors gave me upon graduating from college, he wrote this: "I suppose I now begin a close relationship with nostalgia, one of the perks of growing older."

I hope I always have a close relationship with nostalgia. Though it is important to live in the present and for the moment, it is important to remember where we have come from and the moments and words that have made us who we are today. Thank you for filling my box, my heart, and my life. Thank you for your time and your encouragement. Thank you for your love. Thank you for your words. They have made me who I am and continue to fill my heart today.

Thanks again for a perfect Thursday evening. Each of you filled my living room and my heart to the brim. You have touched my soul and my being. Whether you live near or far, know I hold you in my heart and always will. I hope someone can touch your life in the same way you have touched mine. Thanks for being in my box.

Skylines and Mixtapes

Do you have a favorite kind of scene in movies? You might love a good high speed chase. The moment when the guy gets the girl might send your heart racing. Or maybe you live for the moment when good wins, and the bad guy is locked in a dark underground cellar to meat his grueling fate, the kind of fate that created that crude saying about karma. (My mind is trailing to The Call starring Halle Berry. Apparently this movie left a mark on me. Watch it. Wait, no don't. I'll let you decide.)

Though each of these scenarios make for a great movie scene, none of them make the top of my list. I lean toward the more overlooked scene, but much more meaningful in my opinion. You'll probably know what I am talking about if you watch many 1990's Romcom's or if you are prone to watch Lifetime movies (Be honest. You have been sucked in by one a time or two). 

In this general scene, the protagonist is sitting in the passenger seat of a car looking out the window. Their hand is usually resting under their chin, and they are lost in their thoughts as the scenery outside the window continues to change. More often than not, the quintessential song to capture their current emotion is playing over the radio, and even though they aren't saying a word, you, being the audience, become lost in the character's thoughts and seem to know exactly what they are thinking. If the character is sad or introspective, it will always be raining, and the track playing will be nothing other than a song that is most likely requested 7 out of 10 nights on the "Love Songs with Delilah" portion of a radio broadcast...either that or an acoustic version of a song that used to make you smile, that somehow, after instrumentals are removed, now has the power to make you cry. In a different variation of this scene, the character will be walking down the street, and the camera view will turn upwards toward the city skyline, an upbeat song will begin to play, and you will see the character realize that they have the world at their fingertips and that the possibilities are endless.

A couple of weeks ago, I was walking to meet a friend for lunch downtown. My destination was particularly far away, so I decided to pop in my earbuds. I turned on one of my favorite acoustic albums and began to walk. As I walked, I began to look up, around, and in every direction. Music filled my ears, and, though I was silent, thoughts began to fill my head. The sky was blue, the only clouds in the sky were puffs of white, and the immensity of the structures surrounding me was overwhelming.  I began to notice the details in the architecture surrounding me, the beauty, the craftsmanship, and the planning it took to get there. As the guitar strings sounded on my playlist, I had one of those moments where I realized how small I am, how big the world is, and how exciting it is that God placed me in a life waiting to be explored and discovered. I couldn't help but wish I had a video camera in hand to capture the reality and essence of that moment. I can only wonder if film makers have had a similar experience which inspired them to create the type of scene I previously mentioned in the movies they create time and time again.

It seems that music, especially in certain situations, has the ability to provoke thoughts and encourage reflection. It is a bridge between shared thoughts in both the past and the present between strangers who never have and never will meet. Listen to the radio for an hour, and you probably will find a song with something you can relate directly to (depending on the station you tune to of course).  Watch your favorite movie or television show, and you will most likely notice that background music is present 80% of the time. We don't always notice it's presence, but we would probably notice it's absence.

What is it about these tracks? What about a mixtape helps us feel like we can better define life, thoughts, and emotions? Here's my take on it. Walking downtown with my earbuds out, I tend to get distracted. I hear a car screeching to a a halt on my right, hear an ambulance to my left, and pick up bits and pieces of conversations of each cluster of businessmen I pass. Walking with music, I noticed, makes me stop. It makes me focus in a way I couldn't otherwise. I feel the emotion within the song and seek to transfer that feeling to what I can see all around me.

Too often, we miss the beauty and the detail in the scenery surrounding us. Too often, we are afraid to shut out the noise and distractions to listen to our own thoughts. I would consider myself to be a deep thinker. I tend to be introspective anyways, however, those moments like I mentioned always catch me off guard.

I hope I never forget how small I am and how big the world my God created is. If I let that slip away, I would forget how much of the world I have left to see. One way or another, I am going to see as much of it as I can. God created a world and a life for each of us. It's waiting. We just have to look around to see it. It might take a song to make you stop, or maybe an intricately designed skyline.

Whatever that trigger might be for you, don't miss those moments God created just for you. Moments to stop, look, and reflect. Deep thoughts interwoven with seemingly perfect lyrics and chords. This is your life, and it's your song. God wrote it for you.

No matter how much we may want it to be, life is not a movie. It's not always a walk through Central Park with the perfect tune playing. There are tears, pain, joy, and surprises to experience along the way, and all of our problems aren't solved within a 96 minute running time.

I think that is ok though.  I don't know what track will play next in my story, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I don't have to know because he does. He is the perfect conductor and the ultimate storyteller. The scenery passing me by and all that I see around me is no mistake. He placed me right where He wants me to be with the view He wants me to have today to help remind me that I am a part of His world and His story, not mine.

Goodbye Duct Tape. Hello Sally.

Good riddance.

Whenever I hear this phrase my mind instantly reverts to the Green Day Song "Good Riddance" also commonly referred to as "The Time of Your Life". I know, I know. Green Day is so 1997, but for some reason I love this song, and it makes it on to many a roadtrip playlist in my car.

Maybe I love it because it always concludes the bird show at the Texas State Fair. If you've been, you know what I am talking about, and yes, the bird show is hands down my favorite part of the fair. I think the real reason though is that I love reflecting on life, where it has taken me, and all I have learned from it, and the lyrics do a pretty good job of summing this up.

All that aside, I found myself saying the actual phrase, "good riddance" a few weeks ago as I handed over the keys to my red Liberty and glady signed the title on Sally.

For those of you who have not known me very long, let me give you a brief rundown on the history of my car ownership.

When I turned 16, I inherited a 1995 Dodge Neon that I fondly referred to as "Dentene". No, I do not have an obsession with Dentene wintergreen gum. A couple of years before, a hail storm in Dallas with softball sized hail left it's mark, literally, on hundreds of cars in the metroplex, including Dentene. Dentene got several "marks". In addition to the small craters covering the vehicle, the paint too took a hit in the storm, leaving the car  speckled white. The air conditioner did not work (let me remind you, I lived in Texas), the radio gave out, and the material that once clung to the ceiling hung down if not held up by staples, and even those fell out on the way to school only to be found in my hair during second period. My mom called this car a character builder, and she couldn't have been more right. This may not sound like a dream car to you, but I learned to be thankful to  have a car to get me from one place to another. In that car, I drove by myself to school for the first time and locked my keys in the car at least 15 times (3 of those times it was running). I got in my first wreck...with a stationary car in the culdesac (when I knocked on the man's door to tell him what I had done, he said, "My God will forgive you for what you did," in an ominous voice and shut the door). In the car, I shared laughs, tears, and smiles. It was the first large thing I owned, and I was proud to have it. I learned that makes and models were just names and that I wasn't entitled to a brand new car that I would have no business driving anyways.

Yes, that was me in high school. And there's "Lips". 

Dentene's successor was a 2003 red Jeep Liberty that never received a solid name. I first took to
calling her "Big Red" to keep in line with the chewing gum nuance. In college however, a friend named her "Lips", which frankly just made me uncomfortable, so I tried to forget anyone ever called her that. Name aside,  this car marked the beginning of a new chapter in my life. I packed her up with all my belongings and moved to Oklahoma in 2007 to a college where I knew no one. It quickly became the home to countless Sonic runs with new friends who would change my life and my path forever. My college roommate and I decided we needed to embroider our names in the driver and passenger seats. We never did, though I wish we had. In that car, I drove to Mississippi, Colorado several times, Florida, Missouri, and Kansas to name a few. There I shared, tears, laughs, belted out "Redneck Woman" with the windows rolled down more times than I can count,  learned that I needed glasses to drive, and switched drivers in a moving vehicle on a road trip (Mom, I'm sorry you had to find out this way). During these years, I learned who I was, what real friendship looked like, how to take ownership of my faith, and began to gain a vision of what God wanted my life to look like. In 2011, I packed up the Liberty one last time and moved to Tulsa, my current home. As I drove away and looked in the rear view, I shed tears for all I was leaving behind, the people, the memories, the life lessons, and the moments. I then shed more for the new, unknown road ahead.

My life quickly began to flourish in Tulsa, but the Liberty's began to decline. The gears shifted on their own when the temperature dropped below 32 degrees, and the only way to roll up the back window was with an excessive ammount of extra strength duct tape. It was time.

Meet Sally. Yes, I named my car after a Pixar character.

After months of searching, I found Sally, and the rest was history. On the way to the dealership to
trade in the Liberty for my light blue Hyundai, I told someone I was taking my last drive in the Liberty. I then said it. "Good Riddance". They emplored me that my words were a bit harsh and that I should cherish the old while embracing the new. At that moment, all I could think about was handing over my keys for a set of new ones. When the time came to switch, and I sat down in my "new" compact car, I began to reflect. Surprised?

There I was sitting in a parking lot. I had almost lived in Tulsa for two full years. As I looked ahead at Tulsa, Oklahoma, there were no longer tears in my eyes. What was once new and unknown was now a life that I love and look forward to each and every day. My life was full of people, experiences, thoughts, and beliefs that weren't even a flicker in my mind when I made that drive in my Liberty two years earlier. The things that were once new and unknown are now some of the things I consider to be the biggest blessings in my life today.

Looking out my windshield, I began to realize that I look forward to the "new and unknown" in front of me in the next moments, days, months and years. The world is full of open road, books to read, stories to hear, adventures to have, people to meet, and lessons to learn.

Going into the unknown though, I am not empty handed. My hands and my heart are full of a past with people who have loved me and I them, experiences, memories, heartache, and joy. The things I have left behind have not really left me at all. They are the very make-up of who I am and lay their fingerprint on each decision I make and each step I take. God created that fingerprint just for me. He orchestrated every line, curve, twist and turn. He knew who I needed to be to make the decisions I have to make today and set me on the path to get here.

My fingerprint is unique and so is the road that God will send me on today and every day in the future to create the print He wants me to leave on the world.

No matter what I drive, where I live, or where I am employed, I know that God is using each moment in my life to shape and mold my mind and my life. Even better, He gives me a choice. I can discount the experiences I have or I can see them for what they truly are. Beautiful. These moments of my life aren't beautiful because they are full of glamor and perfection. That's not true at all. These moments, the good and the bad, are beautiful because they have made me who I am today and have kept me moving, growing, and changing, writing the pages of my life story.

I am learning that Green Day songs are better left for the bird show anyhow. Many things are good, but I don't think "riddance" is one of them. There are a few things that are though. Good Life. Good Memories. Good Savior. Great and endless possibilities.

Fireflies

Last Friday night, I had one of the my favorite experiences in Tulsa, Oklahoma thus far. I headed to the Philbrook Museum of Art with one of my closest friends. We made our way to the back of the property, paid our seven dollar entry fee, and with lawn chairs in hand proceeded to walk into a picturesque summer night.

The museum plays movies on a large screen every Friday night during the month of July. If you have not been to the museum grounds, you need to take a walk through their grass with bare feet to fully comprehend the experience these movie nights provide. The grass is soft and perfect, the flowers were blooming, and the sun had set. Have you watched the movie, The Wedding Planner (yes, the one starring J-Lo)? Picture the "movie in the park" scene. All you need is a security guard named Burt, a bag of all brown M&M's and a slow dance, and the scene on the art museum lawn would be identical.  Needless to say, the scene was perfect. The only light was the one of the projector against the screen, or so I thought.

That particular evening, the museum was showing an old Humphrey Bogart film titled Beat the Devil. I couldn't tell you what the movie was about though. I was distracted for 95% of the film. I was surprised by the small number in attendance at the event. Looking around at blankets spread out and couples all around, we determined that the men in attendance were among the smartest in the city and that even a date with a stranger at this event would leave almost any girl in a state to fall hard and fast. Men, there are 3 weeks left in July. This might be your chance. You're welcome. Ladies, don't say I didn't warn you.

People watching, however, was not my only distraction. Before the film began, as I was looking around, I began to see little flickers of yellow light. Fireflies.

Looking back, I have memories of being a little girl and spending summer evenings out in the front yard. As soon as I saw that first flicker, I would run inside to grab a cup, probably one of the plastic ones I got with my kids meal during Sunday afternoon lunch out. The pursuit would then begin. I would follow the flickr, catch a firefly, and then let it go. I was too concerned about their well being to let them suffocate in my cup. Then I would begin the process all over again.

Last week, as I was sitting on the museum lawn reminiscing, I decided I needed to catch one. One flew close enough, and I caught it in my hands. I didn't even need a plastic Chili's cup.

I looked at it between the spaces in my fingers and it wasn't what I expected. It almost looked like a housefly. It was black and honestly kind of ugly. If I saw it flying around my head in the daylight, I probably would have tried to swat it away. I sat for a while and waited for it to light up, but it was a stubborn little lightning bug. It just sat there. It wouldn't light up until I let it fly away.

Call me crazy, but I think people are a lot like fireflies. It is easy to look at a mass of people and identify them to be just that. Each face becomes just another in the crowd. We don't think twice about the person who walks past us on the downtown sidewalk. For all we know, they are just like all the rest. Who are all these people though? I could walk past a world renowned author and not know it. Maybe we are missing the light.

Psalm 139:14 says, "I will praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made."

I think the Lord has put some kind of light in each of us. A light that is both wonderful and unique. Just like a firefly, that light might be more evident in certain settings than in others.

But whether or not others choose to notice it, the light is there and it is a part of who we are. We each have been given a set of unique talents, gifts, abilities, and character traits to live our lives to their fullest potential and bring the most praise to the Creator.

A firefly's light shines in the dark. Your light may shine on a stage in front of people or maybe it shines in a classroom full of students. Perhaps your light shines behind the scenes or maybe through conversations you have with others.

Whatever your light is, learn what it is, and learn where you shine to your fullest potential. I believe that no one is just a face in a crowd. The Lord only creates beautiful things. Yes, that means you, too.

Let your God-given light shine. The world won't be able to look away. The beauty and light of the Lord is something to be shared, captured, and shared once again with others.

On to the next.

Sunday, June 9, was the quintessential summer afternoon, at least in my book. My parents and grandfather stopped in Tulsa on the way back to Texas from a wedding. We sat on the patio, overindulged in enchiladas, and took a stroll around what I would qualify as the most beautiful gardens in Oklahoma. I returned to my apartment with a smile on my face and a warmth in my heart, the kind of warmth only a perfect summer day can bring (I'm talking figurative warmth here people, despite the rising Fahrenheit reading on the Weather Channel app).

To cap off the afternoon, I filled up an over-sized glass with sweet tea and headed to my summer abode, the apartment pool. Over the past few weeks, I have noticed several "constants" in this particular venue.

One. Pool goers, generally speaking, are under the false impression that everyone wants to hear their music...on full blast. Some take it to a whole new level and bring portable speakers to make sure even those on the opposite end of the pool hear every word Jay-Z utters, speaks, says, mumbles...whatever rappers do these days. I always say I am culturally unaware and choose to be that way. How am I supposed to keep this up if I hear the pop culture top 20 playlist on repeat against my will?

Two. There is a small handful of faithful pool goers. If my apartment complex had a color card membership program like Starbucks, this particular group would have their gold card in hand, not for the number of Frappacinos they purchased, but instead for the amount of hours they spend soaking in Vitamin D. These "gold card holders" are a diverse group. Some are unusually bronze couples who I am assuming have tanning oil as a line item on their budget considering the amount of times they re-apply, some are parents with unusually loud (or maybe its normal...I am single and childless, so I wouldn't know) children, and some are loners with a book, like me. I am pronouncing myself to be a gold card holder. You have to be one to know one.

Three. Apartment pools are a prime hangout for care free, summer-loving, jobless, high school students. There are several ways to spot this particular breed at the pool, one being their conversations. Confession. I eavesdrop.

One conversation in particular that day (one I overheard, not one I was having) stood out in my mind. As I was reading my book, two girls, of the high school breed I previously spoke of, came and sat down in the two chairs to my right. I left my headphones in my apartment that day and was, therefore, subject to overhearing their conversations. Call it eavesdropping if you want, but I equate it to listening  against my will, much akin to the Jay-Z music that was simultaneously blaring over someone's portable speakers.

Let's call the two girls Amy and Sarah to make this less confusing. The conversation went something like this. Amy looked over at Sarah and started talking about how it was her first day at the pool for the summer. She said she loved summer and was so glad to be out at the pool. Sarah quickly agreed that pool days were "the life." However, Amy chimed in with a quick "but." She said she did love summer but was ready for fall. She said summer was nice and all, but she couldn't wait to be drinking pumpkin spice latte's, pulling out her boots, and carving pumpkins. Sarah, being a high school girl, once again quickly agreed with her friend Amy by saying, "yeah, I am so over summer."

Several thoughts ran through my head as I turned my attention back to my book. First came a bout of sadness for these two girls. One day, more like five minutes, of the pool and they were already over it? I had spent a good ten hours at the pool already that week. They didn't know what they were missing out on. Second. Sarah is fickle. She needs to work on having her own opinions. I was a Sarah in high school. Good thing that's over. Third. I, too often, relate to Sarah and Amy's outlook in different areas of my life.

If you are anything like me, you place the future, whether that is a job, a season, an event on the calender, or a stage in life on a pedestal.  I make my way through days, weeks, and sometimes even months looking forward to that next thing. I can recall so many conversations on the phone saying I am so excited for "such and such"...that will give me something to look forward to and get me through the next couple of weeks.

However, when the event arrives, the season changes, or we reach our goal, the moment we have been waiting for somehow seems anticlimactic once we begin looking toward the next thing. On to the next. 

Summer is finally here, but maybe I like fall better. On to the next. I met the one and got married, but I really would be happier if I had kids. On to the next. I got a job that I love, but I would rather be a stay at home mom. On to the next. The holiday party is finally here, but what's on the calendar for next weekend? The list could go on and on. And it always does. But what are missing with all this "looking forward" we are doing? Sometimes I think it is a lot.

Today I had a conversation on the phone with one of my favorite people in the world, my papaw. I love everything about him, especially his outlook on life. For as long as I can remember, every time I ask him how his day is, he says, "Every day is a good day." It never fails to bring a smile to my face.

Every day really is a good day though, isn't it? Today is here, and it was given to us by the Lord. Shouldn't that be enough? Over the past few months, I feel like I have been learning to cherish each moment and each day for what it is. It's a lesson I have and am still having to learn over and over again. No matter how much time I spend trying to plan and figure out my future, it doesn't change the fact that the moment I am living is the present one. The more I try to think and plan, the more God shows me how wrong I am, how right and perfect He and His ways are, and how beautiful and mysterious the present moment is.

Though I may not know what my future holds, what next weekend looks like, or what song is going to come over my apartment neighbor's portable speakers next, there is something I do know. God has given us each one day to live at a time. That is all we are promised. What a shame it would be to miss out on the mystery waiting to be uncovered today because we are too busy pondering the mystery of tomorrow.

Today is here and so are you. Tomorrow will come, but you won't get this moment back. Every day is a good day, and I think today is a good day to start living like we believe it.

You wouldn't lie to me...would you?

I am starting my week unusually refreshed. I was blessed to take off the past week for a "staycation" if you will.

Two of my best friends from college came to Tulsa to visit, relax and do virtually nothing for a week. Pure bliss. We spent hours every day by the pool, built a vacation snack bar on my buffet table complete with birthday cake Oreos and gummy bears, and only watched films that rated at 10 on the chick flick scale.

You might look at how I spent my days off and think I wasted them, when I could have spend them somewhere other than my apartment. After this week though, I recommend placing the "staycation" at the top of your destination list. The perks are limitless. No travel cost, free lodging, and no jet lag. The list goes on. However, ranking above the pool time and El Guapo salsa, the people I got to spend the week with take the cake.

There's just something about those friends God places in your life. The kind of friends that you can be yourself around, let the ugly show, laugh until you cry, and cry after that. My heart nearly bursts with thankfulness every time I think about the amazing women God has placed as friends in my life both near and far. To all of you who sit and listen to my jumbled thoughts and ramblings and wait patiently as I repeat them again the next week, thank you. There is no pricetag to be placed on the honesty and truth that comes from a true friend. I know the advice and words from these special people God has placed in my life are true and honest, nothing less, even when it hurts. Friendship has no hidden agendas and not a hint of deception. I think that's why time spent in the presence of a true friend, in my opinion, is a refresher like no other.

Today, in the 4 year old class I help in at church, the Bible story was about Balam and his talking Donkey. Each week the past month, the story has ended by reminding the kids that we can know the story is true because everything in the Bible is true. The kids laughed at the thought of a talking donkey, but when asked the question, "Do you believe this story is true?" one boy in particular knew the answer.

He quickly shouted out a boisterous, "YES!". One of the other leaders asked him how he knew. Here is what he said: "It is true because God says it is true. He is my very best friend."

He didn't hesitate. He didn't give exceptions. The fact that God said it with his standing as his best friend was enough. He believed it.

This was one of those moments for me where time seemed to stop. If God's word, as our Savior and best friend, was enough for this four year old boy, then why isn't it always enough for me?

Have you ever played the game two truths and a lie? If you haven't, it goes something like this. The person who is "it" tells three statements to the group, two being true, and the other a lie, and the group has to guess which one is the fallacy. I have played it, and I hate it. I don't always do well under pressure and am not a good liar. When put on the spot to come up with three statements, I usually say something entirely too obvious like...1) I work for a nonprofit 2) I have one sister 3) I have a pet tiger.

While I don't love the giving side of this game, I am not too fond of the taking either. My friends, being better at this game than I, usually issue three statements of which I have NO idea which one is a lie. When the secret is revealed, I am usually surprised, and unjustifiably hurt that I was deceived, even though it was a part of the game.

Too often, I treat my relationship with God like He is playing this game. He is always it. He fills my life with his word through prayer, thoughts, and passages of scripture. I believe most of it to be true, but have some sort of general hesitancy when it comes to certain statements. 1) God is love 2) The free gift of God is eternal life 3) God's timing isn't always my timing. The first two, yes. That third one, though.... 1) Jesus rose from the dead 2) God hears all of our prayers 3) All good things come from the Lord. Numbers one and three I am sure about, but number two? What about that prayer I have been praying for weeks?

This kind of thinking has to stop. The scary thing is, most of the time I don't even realize I am engaging in it. I know logically that everything God says is true, but that knowledge gets stuck somewhere on the path from my head to my heart. Even though God proves himself to me over and over again, my actions still too often show that I believe I know best for my life and that I am in control of my future. It took a four year old boy with childlike faith to remind me that when it comes to my relationship with God, the head and heart have to work together on the same premise. Everything God says is true. No "if's", "and's", or "but's".

 If I can find rest and refreshment in time spent with the people dear to my heart, how much more rest, peace, and comfort can I find in my Savior, the best friend I could ever ask for. Everything he has promised me is true and He really does have a plan for my life. I have a book full of his promises at my fingertips daily and the opportunity to be in conversation with him at all times. If I rested in the honesty, purity, and truth of this relationship, there would be no room for worry or stress.

My friends went back home on Friday. It is back to work this week. Deadlines will come up, slots on the calendar will fill up, and things will not always go my way. As history shows, with many of these things, stress levels will rise, and the "staycation high" will fade away. Through the ups and downs, vacation time or not, one thing never changes. The best friend I could ever had is right here, living life right along side me, guiding my every footstep. The talk is always real, true, and available, whether I am here in Tulsa or halfway across the world. His word is honest, and he is waiting for me to come to him to be refreshed.  All of his promises are true.

All truths. No lies.

Let's Celebrate.

Last Thursday, on the way home from work, I stopped at the bookstore. A friend at lunch that day told me a book I had to read, and the bookworm in me couldn't wait 3 days for Amazon shipping. I found the title at the second bookstore I ventured too, that is after making several calls to find a store that actually had it on the shelves.

I made my way home looking at the dark clouds in the rearview and headed up to my sanctuary for the evening. I set my purse down, grabbed a book and a cup of chai, and of course my favorite quilt. As I started to read, a chapter in, I looked up and out the window after hearing a deep rumble from the sky and watched as it began to pour.  There's something about an afternoon downpour that stops me in my tracks. Perhaps it is the fact that I can see the drops and hear them as they hit the ground. I don't know about you, but evening rainstorm send me into a quick coma like sleep.

With my book in my lap, I began to look around my apartment. It was clean for the first time in what seemed like weeks, a candle was lit, and I was sitting still. I couldn't remember the last time that had happened. Sometime between the months of March through early May, my calendar and life seemingly, turned into a timetable with slots instead of a fresh pallete full of moments. Bullet points that left no room for interjections.

I realized I hadn't read a book in two months, and I hadn't baked in maybe three. I couldn't put a pinpoint on the last time I had spent an evening with nothing planned. If you know me very well, I thrive on those moments. You like to spend your evening out with 22 of your closest friends? I like those nights, but if I am honest, I probably would prefer to sit on my couch with a book and a 1990's rom-com rolling in the background on my tiny television.

While I am only a chapter or two into my recent read, I could be completely missing the point, but here is what I have taken from it so far. The author talks in the intro about how we are sitting around waiting for our "moment". You know, that moment in the movies where they get the job, catch the bad guy, win the award, or say their vows. We wait. We watch. We press onward. Somewhere in that waiting game though, we forget to experience. We are waiting for a celebration when that moment arrives. The author suggest that perhaps the celebration is in the current moment, not in THE moment we think we are waiting for. The celebration is now. The celebration is life. Are we missing it?

Once the rain stopped, I went out to my porch. The trees were green, the ground was wet, and the unmistakable scent of an Spring rainstorm was in the air. The clouds were still there, but pockets of blue and sunshine peaked through the clouds. The birds were singing, and the crickets were chirping. It was one of those moments. A moment worth celebrating. Sometimes I forget I don't have to be sitting in the middle of the mountains to notice the beauty in Creation. It's right here in Oklahoma. It's right over the railing of my apartment balcony. A beautiful picture is surrounding us. It's moments like those, where I sit and count the drips of water from the porch railing on my toes, that I wonder how many more of these moments I miss, moments of pure, uninterrupted peace and bliss.

The title of the book I am reading is Cold Tangerines. The author says she wants to live a life where she enjoys cold tangerines among the other little things in life.

Have you ever seen one of those over-sized colorful plates in a gift store that says "Celebrate Everything"? You know, those ones that look like you could make it at "paint & party" but way better than anything you (or at least someone with my limited art skills) could make yourself?  I have seen them more than a dozen times, picked them up, and immediately set them down after being appalled at the astronomical price tag on a 8 inch diameter piece of plaster. As I continue to read this book, the phrase painted on the plate keeps crossing my mind. Perhaps those words should be painted across my heart and become the shades through which I see my world. 

I want to live a life worth celebrating. I don't want to wait around for hypothetical celebrations culture tells us we need to be fulfilled. I want to take deep breaths. I want to travel far away and see things I have never seen. I want to notice the shape of the leaves on the trees outside my window, and I want to sit in a hammock every chance I get.

The truth is, life isn't always relaxing, and I don't always have an open schedule. I have to remind myself that those little moments, moments full of awe and wonder, are just as present in the busy times as in relaxing ones. God is present at all times and so is his faithfulness. With an ever present God in the midst of a chaotic world, we are sure to find beauty, wonder, and moments worth celebrating. We just have to be willing to open our eyes and train ourselves to look for and engage in them.

The gift of the moment is enough reason in itself to celebrate. The more we look deep into those moments we are given, the more we will notice what the Lord has had right in front of us all along. Look around. Live. Breath it in. How can we not celebrate?