The Queen MAB Manifesto

Tea for Effort

2011-02-01T16:21:00.012-06:00

Get it? I'm blogging. See, I can do it. Even if that means that I haven't since last month... Are you judging me? I think you're judging me. Stop it.

Today is my little blog's 5th birthday. I have big dreams for her during the next year. I wish I'd spent more time with her this past year, but like my Granny said... "Wish in one hand and {insert something entirely inappropriate here} in the the other. Which one do you have more of?" Here's to hoping I'll produce much more {again with that inappropriate thing} this year on the Manifesto.

January is National Hot Tea Month. As in, last month was National Hot Tea Month. The irony here is that I began drafting this blog in early-January and it sort of seems silly to post it on the first day of February. So to mix things up a bit, I'm declaring February an extension to National Hot Tea Month.

Years ago, I was a coffee drinker, but when the caffeine began to give me heart palpitations, I made the switch to tea. While I appreciate the smell, taste, and texture of coffee, there's really no comparison to how well tea administers a solution to my every mood. And, the options are endless.

Since it's award season, I've compiled a little list of my favorite teas...and some of my not-so favorite.

Best Black
Republic of Tea Ginger Peach

I fell in love with this particular tea when I was working at Books-A-Million in high school. Our Joe Muggs cafe featured a selection of Republic of Tea. I worked the customer service desk with a little old lady named Arlina, who complained often of her fibromyalgia flare-ups. She drank Ginger Peach and would re-use the tea bag several times with fresh hot water. Anyway, I was intrigued by the sweet and spicy aroma wafting from her mug, and it didn't take long for me to become hooked. This tea has little bits of peach pulp dried amongst the leaves, and has just a touch of heat from the ginger.

Best White
Celestial Seasonings Perfectly Pear

One of the things I love about white tea is the caffeine lift but in a delicate, feminine package. White teas undergo very little processing (except from the sun) and much less fermentation than black teas. This makes them naturally sweeter and softer. I would recommend white tea to a new tea drinker who wants a little more panache than an herbal. Both Republic of Tea and Mighty Leaf make fine white teas, but my favorite is this little gem from Celestial Seasonings. I remember many a lazy Sunday afternoon sitting at my old apartment, the Aspen Bungalow, enjoying a cup of Perfectly Pear with a good book.

Best Green
Tazo Zen
This green tea is not boring like I find some green teas to be. It's the perfect afternoon tea because it's so refreshing, featuring flavors of lemongrass and spearmint. Just one inhalation of this tea delivers invigoration while simultaneously soothing the senses. You can quote me on that. I like to drink Zen after work and before I head out again for evening plans.

Best Oolong
Mighty Leaf Orchid Oolong

Christmas of 2008, my mom was given a Mighty Leaf sampler pack as a gift at work. ML tea bags are made of silk and stitched with unbleached cotton, and the pouches are large, allowing the curly, twisted leaves to float around, maximizing the brew. The quality of these tea bags makes them a bit pricier than most, averaging a little over 66 cents per bag. In the sampler pack, I found the Orchid Oolong, and prepared a cup while writing this blog post. I found this tea to be light and smooth, with a fragrant tropical floral scent. It steeps a soft beige and yields a quiet response. Orchid Oolong makes me feel like I'm at a spa retreat.

Best Rooibos
Numi Red Mellow Bush

In high school, my brother worked at a coffee, tea, and smoothie shop in Hendersonville. The store eventually closed down, and my brother came home with some of the leftovers. Part of the stash included a large selection of Numi teas, including Red Mellow Bush. This tea is made with rooibos, a native South African tea leaf. The flavor is smoky, earthy, and rich, and feels like a late-September afternoon...warm and windy.

Best Herbal
Celestial Seasonings Honey Vanilla Chamomile

My roommate, Amy, first introduced this tea to our household several years ago. Celestial Seasonings ups the ante with this chamomile tea, adding honeyed vanilla. I'm not lying when I say you can taste the vanilla and the honey coats your throat. I drink a cup of this before bedtime almost every evening.

Best Breakfast Blend
Bigelow Earl Grey

When I began drinking hot tea on a regular basis, my taste generally trended toward softer, herbal teas. It wasn't until I went to London in 2008 that I began to enjoy tea with bold, unique flavor. I ordered Earl Grey with my cucumber sandwich and scone at The Orangery Tea Room in Kensington Gardens. It came with rich cream and sugar cubes, and I found a new obsession. The Bigelow variety is some of the best that can be found Stateside. The bergamot oils in these tea bags are so potent that the bags turn bright yellow in their foil lined wrapper. Bigelow's Earl Grey is one of my favorite morning traditions.

Best Afternoon
Republic of Tea Blackberry Sage

I get restless at work everyday around 2 p.m. When I open my tea drawer (yes, I have a tea drawer in my office), I typically reach for the can of Blackberry Sage. It combines the caffeine of a black tea with the fruitiness of an herbal tea. The sage adds a kick of pepper, and I find that this tea helps me to kick start my productivity.

Best Chai
Bigelow Spiced Chai

I've had some really bad Chai teas. Sometimes they're too spicy, burning the throat with the aftertaste, or they aren't spicy enough, creating only lightly seasoned water. I've found that Bigelow produces an amazingly spicy Chai, but it still manages to be smooth. I like to enjoy a strong cup of hot chai with a splash of International Delight Sugar Free French Vanilla creamer. This is the beginner tea that I would recommend to a coffee drinker, wanting to make the switch.

Best British
Fortnum & Mason Queen Anne

On our first night in London in 2008, we visited the famous Fortnum & Mason department store on Piccadilly. My sole purpose in shopping was to stock up on British tea. If there hadn't been ten days of Europe left on our trip, I probably would've filled up my suitcase. My favorite tea purchase is the Queen Anne. It's some of the strongest, blackest tea I've ever experienced. It's so dark that you can still smell it through the packets, even though the box is closed. It's genuinely British, and deserves to be brewed long and hard, and then rewarded with a generous amount of milk and a heaping tablespoon of sugar.

Best Seasonal
Bigelow Pumpkin Spice

Autumnal-inspired teas always hold a special place in my heart. In the spring and summertime, I typically drink lighter, fruity teas, so by Fall, I want something that compliments the changing of the leaves and the crisp weather. I'm kind of a sucker for pumpkin anyway, so any tea that features the flavor has me sold. This tea is like eating a piece of pumpkin pie in a cup, with a strong side of cinnamon and clove.

Best Nighttime
Celestial Seasonings Sleepytime

Even if you aren't a regular tea drinker, I bet you've reached out for the stuff when you're sick. You want something hot, light, and soothing. Celestial Seasonings Sleepytime tea is the perfect combination of calming chamomile and cool spearmint. It simultaneously relaxes you to sleep and helps clear the head of congestion. In my humble opinion, this tea should be a staple in your kitchen cabinet...or in your nightstand.

Best Non-tea Tea
Tazo Organic Apple Red Herbal Infusion
Technically, this "non-tea tea" has a base of African rooibos, but there's so little of it that it's more accurate to call this a cider...or, as Tazo calls it, an "Herbal Infusion." Once brewed in very hot water, you can taste the apple, caramel, and cinnamon saturation. Because of it's natural flavor, you don't even need to add sugar...it's already sweet.

Best All-Around
Republic of Tea Honey Ginseng Green

I'm really excited to share this tea with you. It's my favorite for several reasons. First, I dig the subdued caffeinated assistance. Second, the Chinese green tea offers powerful antioxidants targeting cancer, heart disease, and promoting general circulatory health. And third, the flavor of this tea is incredibly unique. I attribute this to the twang from the ginseng. I enjoy this tea with meals, and it's my old standby when I visit a cafe or beverage shop offering Republic of Tea. I especially like it with a slice of fresh lemon.

A list of the "best" is not complete if you don't round it out with the "worst."

Epic Fail
Twinings of London brand teas
I've given this tea brand more than a fair chance. I've tried their herbal teas, their black teas, and even their green teas, and all were met with disappointment. For some reason, these teas fail to steep well even in the hottest of boiling water and turn out weak and flavorless. From a company that's been around since the early 1700s, I expect more. My guess is that in the overall history of the company, they were committed to fine ingredients and excellence, but somewhere along the way, they sold out to cheaper processing and commercialization.

Honorable Fail
Lipton brand teas
For your general, all-American iced tea purposes, Lipton will do. Their basic bags get the job done for the masses. But when they got into the specialty hot tea business several years ago, they may have been feeling a little too ambitious. Their herbal line tends to create a bitter aftertaste, and their pyramid line leaves a large amount of sediment floating in my cup. There's nothing more unpleasant than sipping dirty tea.

And now for something really fun...

In celebration of The Queen MAB Manifesto's 5th Birthday, I'm giving away a tea gift basket valued at over $50 in tea and tea-themed goodies. All you have to do is leave a comment. You can wish my little blog a Happy Birthday, or tell me your favorite kind of hot tea, or anything else that you'd like to imprint in cyberspace. One entry per person, please, and no entries past Friday, February 4 at noon. The winner will be chosen randomly and contacted by email on Saturday.

Thank you kindly for reading, friends. I appreciate you.

Auld Lang Syne

2011-01-03T22:16:00.003-06:00

I'm three days late for my New Year's post. Once you fall off the wagon, it's really hard to get back on. My blogging suffered greatly in the past year, and I intend to claw my way back into the driver's seat. And just like in AA, there's always a first step. My first step is my much beloved first post of the new year. It's one of my yearly favorites because I get to chronicle my growth throughout my tumultuous twenties. Tumultuous? That's putting it nicely...

Hinging on developments during the last half of 2009, I spent the majority of January through March 2010 in a fever-pitched love haze. Looking back, I remember that time was characterized by a happiness and fear as we took the next steps in our relationship, and I tried to figure out if he would handle my heart honorably.

Turns out, he didn't. After I got back from Europe in April, three days after my birthday, he broke up with me. The days and months that followed were dark for me. All I remember about May were my tears. I can honestly say this was the hardest thing I've personally yet to experience in life.

But, during those months of utter heartache, my God held me every step of the way. He gave me the freedom to weep, to ask why, to anger, to forgive, and to heal. At times, He offered comfort, and at other times, He offered gentle discipline and rebuke.

I call those months my "pain moment." In every person's life, there will be one, and sometimes more. God allows these pain moments because, ultimately, they drive us back to Him. This experience has taught me to seek Him solely. I still cling to Psalm 23:1 - "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not be in want." Because of my pain moment, I am a different woman heading into 2011. Praise Him!

One day in June, I stopped crying. And that's when things started to get sunny.

In June, I went down to Orlando for SBC and got in some much needed beach time. And I even got to drive to Tampa to meet my dear friends' new baby, Norah. Also in June, my new small group Bible Study girls began a "summer siesta," as we began to build a foundation for friendship and accountability.

July was typical: Steph and I, poolside. In mid-July, Mom and I road-tripped it down to Atlanta, and I got a hefty does of laughter and love. The last bit of July was rounded out by fun on the lake with my best friend, Amy, and her family...especially her two silly kiddos.

In August, I stood beside my dear friend, Katie, as she pronounced her marriage vows among the thick Mobile humidity.

I started off September in the Keys with Molly, as we declared our "Adult Spring Break" a slap-in-the-face to the boys that broke our hearts earlier in the year. It was one of the best and most fun trips of my life, and I look for it to be a regular Labor Day weekend tradition. Also in September, I enrolled in Bible Study Fellowship, an international organization dedicated to hosting Bible classes on a weekly basis that promotes individual study, small group discussion, and homiletics. We're studying Isaiah and will be in the book through the end of the course in May. I've really loved BSF, and it's kind of kicking my butt in a really good way. I don't know that I've ever been in an environment that so deeply dissects the Word of God, and I'm learning so much!

In October, my roommate Amy began making plans to move to South Africa to do mission work at Living Hope. Her decision created a domino effect for the Foxes on Knox and was an impetus for me to make a decision of my own. Alongside our family realtor, I began to search for a home to buy. Much of the last quarter of the year was spent driving around neighborhoods, attending open houses, making appointments for showings, debating pros/cons, and narrowing down my choices. At this point, I'm unsure of where I will be living when I move out of Fort Knox on February 28, but my pain moment taught me that God's already on it.

Thanksgiving was spent at Ben and Brittany's this year, and it was nice to mix up the traditions a bit. And Christmas was one of the most relaxing and enjoyable I've had to date. Mom, Dad, Stella, and I spent most of our time fireside watching it snow outside.

2010 has been a tough year for relationships. I lost a dear friendship of mine to unwise choices and pride. But I did regain a friendship that I thought was gone. I'm convinced that where there is a mutuality in Christ, time will offer humility, forgiveness, and heal old wounds.

My small group Bible Study grew exponentially this year, as we studied Romans, Proverbs, Jonah, Haggai, Habakkuk, and a Deeper Still study, Anointed, Transformed & Redeemed.

I read a lot of books this year, and a few really were spectacular:

City of Thieves by David Benioff
The Forgotten Garden by Kate Morton
Let the Great World Spin by Colum McCann
God & Guinness by Stephen Mansfield
Cutting for Stone by Abram Verghese

I was having sushi with Stephanie last night, and I confided in her that I'm considering shutting down the Queen MAB Manifesto. It's been five years, and as much as I love to write, I pretty much failed at it during 2010. The older I get, the harder it is for me to be transparent and put my thoughts and feelings out there. And with my commitment to BSF, and a greater personal commitment to God's Word, much more of my free time is already spoken for. I really, really, really don't want to give up. I'm going to give it another year and see how it goes. Here's to 2011!

The Gift That Keeps On Giving

2010-12-22T09:58:00.000-06:00

So, hi. It's been a little while. I've missed me. I'm hoping to get back in the saddle in the New Year, and there might be some things cooking in my life that will supply adequate blogworthy fodder. We'll see...

Anyway, I thought I'd share a little heartwarming story with you in the meantime. The names have not been changed, as to not protect the not-so-innocent. You can't make this kind of stuff up, folks...

My longtime friend, Amanda, celebrated a birthday back in early November. As a birthday gift, I presented her with a $10 iTunes giftcard. During the next month, Amanda would occasionally comment that she didn't know how to spend the giftcard. In fact, at one point, she almost purchased the Glee Christmas album, but my disdain for its low-brow contribution to pop culture gave her pause.

Fast-forward to Friday, December 10. Our mutual friend, Rhonda, hosted a party to celebrate her 30th birthday. The festivities were underway, and Amanda and I and a few other mutual friends are gathered nearby Rhonda as she opens her cards and gifts. Rhonda opens Amanda's card and pulls out a shiny blue iTunes giftcard. Immediately, I see a red flag go up.

I looked at Amanda and shot at her, "no you didn't." I repeated that sentiment several times as she turned beet red and began to giggle sheepishly. When my suspicions were confirmed, my mouth fell open and those around us began to howl with laughter.

Here's the thing... It's not that she re-gifted the giftcard I gave her. It's that she had the audacity to do it at an event that I was attending! And she thought I wouldn't notice? Nothing gets by me.

If it weren't so tragically comedic, I might have been really mad. But, tis the season for mercy and grace, right?

Speaking of re-gifting... There is something that you can re-gift anytime of the year, and that's the love of Christ Jesus. And to give that love away is to receive it back ten-fold. It truly is the gift that keeps on giving. Merry Christmas!

Photos from Rhonda's 30th Birthday Party

Photography by Joe Hendricks (Rhonda's Husband)

Lana, MAB, Rhonda, Amanda & Lisa

5/8 of the original Crazy Eight (See Picture Below)

Spring Break 2007

Blue Steel, ya'll

Cruise and Repeat.

2010-10-31T14:38:00.001-05:00

Considering that it's the last day of this month, and we've already had our first frost, I figured it might be productive for me to make an attempt to blog for the first time this October. I'm tempted to begin my Paris posts, as they are the longest overdue, but on this crispy Sunday afternoon, I find myself longing for the open sea and warm sand.

On a very early Thursday morning in September, Molly and I departed the Nashville International Airport for Charlotte, and then for Ft. Lauderdale. Molly's benevolent "uncle" secured us seats in First Class, and we didn't waste any time getting, well, wasted. Ok, not really... But we sure did start our morning with twin screwdrivers and the gourmet trail mix, not offered to those chumps sitting in Coach.

We arrived to the cruise ship port about two hours before we were set to board, but we were thrilled when Royal Caribbean allowed us to board early. After a quick lunch, we were stationed by the pool, and the boat hadn't even set off yet. Molly and I scoped out our fellow cruisers, and we were delighted to see a herd of thirty-something men crowded around the poolside bar. Several hours later, we were called to our designated Muster Deck for a safety demonstration, and met Rusty and Ben, two of the herd from earlier. Some witty banter later, Molly and I found our cruise ship companions for the trip, along with the necessary gate key to the rest of the Bachelor party. The next four days were quite adventurous...

Dubbed M&M by R&B

The next morning, Molly and I were early birds, up at 7 a.m. to watch the boat port into Key West. Molly's friend, Rob, met us at port and gave us the keys to his truck so we could pay a visit to the Southernmost Point of the United States. We were shocked to see so many wild chickens...crossing the road.

Key West at 7 a.m.

About an hour later, we returned to the port, and followed Rob aboard his boat, as he was taking us out to sea for the day to kayak, snorkel, and dolphin watch with his excursion company. We spent the morning kayaking through the Mangrove Islands, with the occasional snake sighting in the reeds. The kayaking tour was one of my favorite things about this vacation, and I really can't wait to do it again. After kayaking, we donned snorkel gear and spent a couple of hours underwater, swimming with the creatures of the sea. Our trip back to shore included a fast-pace dolphin chase, and we were rewarded with a few sightings.

Royal Caribbean's Grandeur of the Seas

Molly and I only had a couple of our hours left in Key West before our ship set back out to sea. We booked it to the Ernest Hemingway Home, and found ourselves acquainted with a quiet Cuban bungalow and its polydactled feline inhabitants. Bidding adieu to Key West, we boarded the boat for a late lunch and a nap poolside.

We greeted our evening with the Captain's champagne reception, followed by a formal dinner, and a lame cruise ship game show and even lamer karaoke. Luckily, we ran into the "herd" in the piano bar, and then danced the night away in the Viking Crown Lounge until the wee hours of the morning. We saw the sunrise while in the hot tub, and met some new friends in the process. It's funny how time doesn't really apply when you're on a cruise ship.

Molly & MA ready for formal night

MA and Greg

Molly & Eric try escargot

Pat, Eric, MA & Molly

Kindly, our cruise ship didn't port into Cozumel, Mexico until 10 a.m. Molly and I had reservations at the exclusive, upscale resort, Nachi Cocom. After a short cab ride, we were situated at our private hut with a margarita in hand. The view of our exotic locale was characteristic of scenery I'd once only seen in postcards. The water was turquoise and the wind was blowing softly...it was pure heaven. Molly and I relaxed for hours, pausing intermittently for a swim in the ocean, or for lunch delivered to our chairs, or for a drink at the pool bar. At one point, when we'd napped in hammocks, Molly was so inebriated with happiness, that she rolled right out of the hammock, with her feet still entangled. All I could do was cackle from my hammock, too tickled to help her. Thank goodness two gay men sauntered by, found amusement in her predicament, and picked her up by her wrists and ankles, swinging her just like her hammock. Molly and I were all too sad to leave Nachi Cocom, and didn't do so without homemade vanilla and coconut ice cream.

That evening, we had a few hours to nap and get ready for dinner. The ship had set out to rough waters, and I could feel the boat rolling back and forth as I applied my makeup. By the time I was ready, I told Molly that I felt sick and I was going to go to the top deck for air. I met back up with her for dinner, but pushed my Italian meal around on my plate, and finally retired to the room early for Dramamine and bedtime. It was such a night killer to be seasick, but thankfully, it was the only time on the boat that I felt that way.

On Sunday, we spent the entire day poolside, relishing our last day at sea. The day was sprinkled with nice distractions, like the Parade of Flags, the belly-buster contest, and a stint at the rock climbing wall. Molly and I, along with our new friends, watched the shade form over the pool as the day came to a close. After dinner, we rounded out the evening with a really bad "farewell show" and then danced in the lounge until morning, hoping to prolong our trip as long as possible.

Our friends from our dinner table

Our new friend, Sasha

Rusty & Ben

Eric & Nic

We don't really remember their names, but they were hi-larious

Compliments of our room attendant, Harry...Howard...

Molly and I were genuinely sad to board an airplane back to Nashville, but flying First Class sure does help. Since we got back, I've been itching to cruise and repeat. I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed a cruise vacation, and lovingly refer to this trip as one of the best vacations of my life.

It's not me. It's you.

2010-09-22T20:54:00.005-05:00

About a month ago one Sunday morning, I was sitting in the church balcony, three rows from the front. It's where I always sit, and alongside me, sat my three friends, Mandy, Amy, and Casey. The worship service began, and our missions minister stepped onto the platform and took the microphone. He called one family out from the congregation, and asked them to join him on the stage. It was a family of five; a father, mother, two boys, and a girl. Otherwise known as, the classic American family.

Our missions minister began to share the story of this family. The live in an affluent area of town, and are supported by the father's well-paying job. But, something was missing, and the father expressed discontentment of the life he'd built. Owning the finest of material posessions couldn't satisfy the undercurrent of purposelessness. One day, the husband and wife sat down together, and felt the call to go on a mission trip to South Africa. In the meantime, they also felt led to adopt a little Ethiopian girl into their family. The mission trip turned into a mission, and they now live as full-time missionaries, serving the people of South Africa.

The missions minister proceeded to call another family to the stage. This family was led by the brother of the wife of the first family. The second family was so inspired by the first family, that they also felt God's incredible call of the extraordinary. The family, already with two young children, entered the adoption process in Ethiopia, and adopted eight brothers and sisters: seven boys, and one girl, all under the age of 14.

As they shared their stories of hope and change, I wept. While I am so proud of these two families, I couldn't help but wonder why God hasn't given me a husband that feels the call of greatness. And, not greatness defined by the world's standards of money and power, but greatness in sacrifice and love.

More than anything on this earth, I want to find my husband and build a family that is in constant pursuit of God's purposes for our lives. While I do believe I can live God's purposes for me now as a singleton, and ascribe fully to the principles in 1 Corinthians 7, I realize that from the beginning of time, God created man and woman for marriage as an institution that is good. As much fun as I have in my singleness, and as much as I'm learning, I long dearly for a "suitable helper."

I know the three girls sitting next to me in church that day feel exactly the same way. In fact, I have tons of girlfriends who are extraordinary, Godly single women longing to be married. And I'm acquainted with tons more through work, church, and social activities. Most of these women are single single, meaning they haven't had a kiss, much less a date, in years. Some of them are dating, but the guys they are dating don't share their values, and eventually they end up heartbroken...either because the guy ditched the relationship, or they marry him and pray everyday that he step into the role God calls him and out of mediocrity. On very few occasions does a single, Christian girl meet a guy that loves Christ first, and he pursues her fervently, like Christ pursued the church. On these occasions, we rejoice.

I'll be honest: I'm rather sick and tired of the culture of wimpy, passive, spineless, directionless, indecisive, and selfish men of the 21st century. Many of the men that fall into this category are Christians, which makes it even worse. Seriously guys, what gives?!

Let me be very clear. I am not a feminist, and I am not male-bashing. I am in praise of strong men who exercise their masculinity in a healthy way. My perfect man is dirty, rugged, and everything God created him to be. He knows what he wants, and he isn't afraid to take the risk and fight for it. He needs a woman to be his softer-side. And most of all, he's masculine enough to embrace God's purposes for his life.

I shuffled through the stack of mail today, and my weekly issue of Newsweek arrived. In my own personal opinion, Newsweek is a bit behind the times. My friends and I have been asking guys to "man up" for years.

As single Christian women, we don't want perfection. We know that's impossible, as we ourselves are imperfect. All it takes is a desire to seek God, and a demonstration of effort. I believe that if a man is truly seeking God's plan for his life, the fear will fall away and a Man of God will emerge. And I do believe that many of these changed men would see value in the honest pursuit of a woman, and ultimately, marriage and fatherhood.

Men, we are praying for you. Fathers, brothers, uncles, grandfathers, boyfriends, ex-boyfriends, husbands, ex-husbands, bosses, leaders: we are on our knees for you. We know it's hard, and we know that Satan is attacking the family unit, starting at the top down...with you. But, you are created for more, and we want to be at your side to support you. Won't you let us?

On the first day of fall...

2010-09-22T08:25:00.000-05:00

....my Visa gave to me! Well, not really. There are too many starving kids in Africa (and the United States) for me to justify this pair of granny boots from Anthropologie. But oh me, oh my, how I adore thee. Happy Autumn!

The Girl Who Played With Fire

2010-09-12T21:06:00.000-05:00

Steph and I sat out at the pool this afternoon for a couple of hours, soaking up some late-summer sun. The wind was crisp, and it felt like the beginnings of autumn, but we've still got 10 days until its onset. It's tempting, but I'm just not sure I'm ready for it yet.

The pool isn't the only thing I'm hanging onto. I'm going to miss the carefree days of summer when they end. My arsenal of extracurricular exploits is dangerously increasing, especially as fall arrives. Several nights a week are already committed, and I'm looking at designating one or two more. In addition, I am still ardent in my commitment to move my "Write Nights" up the list. There's still some good material rolling around in my hard head. And, I have a couple of personal goals that I'm bent on achieving this fall. It's going to require that I master the art of discipline, something that's always seemed to allude me.

At some point, something's gotta give, and that something might just be my sanity. I may lament about this out loud to make myself feel better, but the pots are still boiling on the stove, and I'm still in the kitchen cooking. Hopefully, I don't burn the place down.

Raincheck

2010-08-30T21:10:00.000-05:00

It's Monday Night Write Night, and while I have a really great blog post cooking, I'm going to have to bow out prematurely. Kip, my hearty little Dell laptop, is going through puberty. My friend, Garrett, took Kip home for a bit to teach him how to man-up. It's no big deal, really...just some growing pains. In the meantime, I bogarted my roommate's MAC to punch this out, and quickly realized how much I miss my PC. I mean, you people with your trendy-ass computers...

I hope to eek out some time on my lunch break tomorrow at work to blog about what I'd originally intended. I love it that some of you are keeping me accountable to write each week! You don't know how much that means to me! Until then...

Encyclopedia Brown

2010-08-23T21:56:00.009-05:00

It's been a long time since I waxed ecstatic about the products in my beauty arsenal that are the creme de la creme. I love product reviews, and rarely buy beauty products without research and recommendations. So, I hope Encyclopedia Brown can help you in your quest for enhancing your hella-good looks.

Just as I was a convert to a high-end straightening iron, my old ways of a styling with a cheap curling iron have gone. Sarah, my incredibly talented stylist, recommended I purchase a HOT Tools curling iron, made by Helen of Troy. It wasn't outrageously expensive ($25 from Folica), but it produces the best curls I've ever had. I'm sure that's because the golden wand heats up to 450 degrees, just like my Solia flat iron. I purchased the one inch barrel, and look forward to maximizing its use as my hair grows longer.

Speaking of hair, mine is fickle. One day, it's greasy a la Elvis, and the next day, it's reminiscent of Einstein. If I go sans styling product, it's limp. If I use styling product, flyaways dance from my crown. And extended use heat styling certainly doesn't help. I think I might have found a balance in John Freida's Frizz Ease Hair Serum in the Thermal Protection Formula. I run a pea-sized amount through my post-showered hair, and then I add my styling product du jour...whether that be mousse, root-lifter, etc. I find that the serum keeps my hair feeling smooth and silky, yet it doesn't weigh it down. I was pleasantly surprised. You can find similar products like CHI Silk Infusion, but you'll pay almost triple the price.

I've been a contact lens wearer since the eighth grade, and for years, I purchased cheap and generic contact solution. Several months ago, I was dealing with a particularly unpleasant bout of dry-eye, and on a whim, I purchased a bottle of Alcon Opti-Free Replenish. It cost almost double what my cheap bargain basement bottle of contact solution costs, but I'm now a believer. The bottle claims to keep eyes moist and fresh for 14 hours, and I can attest that it walks the walk. Sure, it sucks to pay more, but I don't blink out my contacts while staring at my computer screen at work anymore. And, I use coupons.

Ya'll know my battle with cystic acne and pesky blackheads, as if I'm a 13-year-old boy going through puberty. My Yaz staves away much of the hormonal breakouts, but summertime with all its sunscreen and sweat isn't kind to my face. Lately, I've been dealing with a lot of excess oil and as a result, breakouts. When Mom and I were in Atlanta, I was experiencing a large flare-up and a trip (trips) to Ulta was in order. Searching for a pore-clearing mud mask, I picked up c. Booth's Deep Cleansing Volcanic Mud Mask. I think I was drawn to the word "volcanic," as in "the crater-size zits on my chin are volcanic." This stuff is thick, goopy, and black as tar, but it sure does mop up the the BP spill on my chin. It says to only use it once a week, but I've been using it every night...and it's working. When I was in Mobile for Katie's wedding several weekends ago, I subjected Katie, Hadley, and Tyson to my nightly mud mask routine. I realized that if I paint the mask on strategically chosen areas of my face like Wooly Willy, I could entertain the girls. The first night, I wore a Rollie Fingers-style mustache, followed by a beard. The next night? Hitler.

Disclaimer: The above photo is the result of a late-night and too much sugar. By no means do I pledge allegiance to Hitler, the Nazi party, or hate. I'm just sayin.'

For those particularly stubborn zits, I've been dabbing on a bit of Bye Bye Blemish Drying Lotion before bed. It's pink like Calamine lotion and it smells unpleasantly like sulfur, but it shrinks the zits overnight.

Thanks to the economy, I've been on restriction with salon manicures and pedicures this year. I've taken to buying quality nail polishes and nail tools, instead of forking out the dough on a professional application. The first gem I've discovered is Nailtiques in Formula 2. It's a nail protein that fixes peeling and splitting nails. I saw improvement in the strength of my nails in a few days.

Because I've been doing my own nails, it's imperative that they dry quickly. I typically only have time to sit down for a mani or pedi before bed, although, sheets and wet nails do not mix. At the recommendation of an associate at Cosmetic Market, I purchased a Seche Vite Fast-Drying Topcoat. This is the same top coat used by your local salon, and it wasn't kidding when it claimed to be fast drying. I can go from wet nails to under the sheets in less than ten minutes. And, not a crease or a smudge by morning. I kid thee not.

Lastly, I'm sort-of addicted to OPI's beautiful array of nail polishes. They really are the best. My favorite summer color is "My Chihauhua Bites," part of the Mexico collection. It's a sassy red-orange, almost coral. I get compliments on it often when it graces my fingers and toes. I've also been a huge fan of "Greenwich Village," enjoying the pop of green peeping out of my sandals. My nail color of choice for my upcoming cruise will be "Catch Me in Your Net," a blue-green glitter, that will perfectly outfit me for snorkeling in Key West.

Do you have a favorite OPI color? Some colors are synonymous with my friends: Ashley L. loves "Cha-Ching Cherry," Stephanie D. loves "Cajun Shrimp," Mandy. G loves "You Don't Know Jacques!," Natalie W. loves "Strawberry Margarita," and the list goes on.

Write Night, Numero Uno

2010-08-16T18:49:00.112-05:00

{Insert feeble, prosaic comment here regarding my lack of writing in the past month-and-a-half.} *Ahem.*

Several weeks ago, Mom asked me near the end of a phone conversation, "so, when are you going to start blogging again?" I responded how every normal adult would respond: I burst into tears. I desperately want to put my thoughts and experiences down on paper, or at least punch them into cyberspace, but my writing always seems to fall by the wayside. Sometimes, it's just the easiest thing to put-off when I get busy. I'm determined to change this, although, I know you've been hearing this from me throughout the past year.

I've decided that Monday nights will be my "Write Nights." I normally leave work at four on Monday, pick-up Danielle (the girl I mentor at the CWJC), grab a bite to eat with her, and then drop her off at school. From 5:30 on, I'm pretty much free. I've been filling this extra time with grocery shopping, coffee with friends, special errands, and sometimes, an early bedtime. But, I'm hoping to get back in the habit of pursuing my favorite pastime.

Anyway, I haven't exactly been sitting around on my tokus...I'm a busy gal. I enjoy being busy, especially when it's characterized by friends and family. Here's a bit of a 42-day recap:

In mid-July, Mom and I took a long weekend road trip to Atlanta. I'm finally at the age where I can really appreciate my Mom not only as my "Mom," but also my best friend. I love-love-love being with her, and traveling with her. We didn't have any real reason to go to Atlanta, but it was still a good excuse to stay in a nice hotel, lay by the pool, shop, eat good food, and giggle a lot. We embarked upon downtown Atlanta for our very first visit to IKEA, and while I didn't buy much, I was thrilled by the cheap wares.

A weekend later, I hit the road for East Tennessee to visit one of my best college friends, Amy, her husband, Nathan, and her two sweet bebes, Eva and Reed. Another one of my best college friends, Ashley, also rode in for the weekend and we boated, waterskied, swam in the pool, drank some good wine, and laughed a lot. I already miss them....especially Eva and Reed. It's always nice to hear little babes laugh, call out your name, and give you lots of hugs and kisses. It's food for a single gal's soul.

A weekend later, my old roommate and dear friend, Emily, returned from Paris for a little stateside vacay. We spent a humid Friday evening inside the chilled Frist Center for the Arts. The main exhibit is "The Golden Age of Couture," an exhibit that features post-WWII fashions from the houses of Dior, Balenciaga, Givenchy, Balmain, and others. In addition to the dresses, the heels, the hats, and the accessories, there was also a collection of fashion photography by Richard Avedon. Beyond the main exhibit, the Frist featured a blown glass presentation by Dale Chihuly. The large glass installations are amazingly beautiful, in and of themselves, but it isn't until you see the documentary that you really begin to understand how much sweat and labor is poured into each piece. It was a very nice bonus to end our Frist visit. After leaving the museum, we were en route to Miyako for sushi, when we practically ran over the Blidge. I cannot elaborate on that...it's too politically incorrect. But let's just say that both of us were screaming with laughter.

I don't know how hot it's been where you are, dear reader, but it's been pretty damn hot here. And by hot, I mean oven hot. It was one of these impossibly Sunday afternoons that we celebrated my friend, Joe Hendricks 35th birthday. Here's a picture of Amanda, Amy and I from the party. I think we look cute.

In early-August, Hadley and I packed up the car after work on a Thursday evening and set out for Mobile, Alabama. My sweet friend, Katie, got married on August 7, and the wedding weekend was full of fun and festivities. At Katie and Gary's baseball-themed rehearsal dinner, we played wiffle ball, and it was so dadgum fun. The weekend was characterized by quite a bit of laughter. When we were setting up the reception hall on Friday, Tyson (another one of Katie's bridesmaids) noticed that the DJ station was positioned in an interesting location: "Is the DJ going to play Baby-Got-Back underneath the crucifix?" Other memorable moments included the beehive positioned on our heads for the ceremony. Donna, the hairdresser, teased my hair higher than Snoop Dogg. I couldn't help but break out into song and dance, a la The Supremes. Even with our southern bouffants, we still looked right purty.

My Bible study ended our "summer siesta" of weekly coffee-dates, and began a Deeper Still Bible study with Priscilla Shirer, Beth Moore, and Kay Arthur called "Anointed, Transformed, and Redeemed." The study examines the life of David from three unique viewpoints. I'm super-excited that my girls are enjoying it so much.

This past weekend, I spent Saturday with the parentals, and we went to East Nashville's TomatoArt Fest. I'd never been before, and I was anticipating a small grouping of booths. I was wrong, and pleasantly wrong at that. Rows and rows of booths stretched down the arms of Five Points, featuring local artisans, antiques, delightful junk-wares, unique food vendors, all with an emphasis on the "tomato." Throw in some local musical talent and it was a delightful time. We lunched at one of my favorite Nashville establishments, The Dog. I love introducing my parents to new local restaurants, even more so when they like it as much as I do.

Late last week, my good friend Molly and I booked a cruise to Key West and Cozumel for an extended Labor Day weekend. This will be my first cruise experience, and I'm excited to see what the hype is all about. We're flying to Ft. Lauderdale first class, thanks to Molly's sweet uncle. I've never flown first class either. It's going to be a time of lots of firsts. We're in the midst of planning what to do while we're there. I may have to drag Molly along, but I aim to visit ol' Ernie Hemingway's home, and pet a few of his polydactyl cats. Yep, I like cats. So sue me, all you cat haters. Anyway, we hope to spend lots of time in a pool chair, on the beach, or tossing back some much deserved margaritas while we're there. I'd love some suggestions of what to do in Key West or Cozumel, or simply some helpful cruise tips.

In between the above, my time has been filled with countless social dinners, birthday parties, afternoons at the pool, catching up with old friends, and so much more. The past couple of months have been fabulously uplifting, and such a contrast to my second-half of April and May.

See you again soon. I promise.

Resiliency

2010-07-05T19:31:00.001-05:00

Lately, I've been well. I daresay that my little trip to SBC energized me for resiliency. I'm guessing it was the time with friends and the ocean, not the Southern Baptists on steroids. I digress... Anyway, I have this habit of looking up the definition of words I fancy. Resiliency is one of them. It just rolls of the tongue, eh? Dictionary.com states it so well: the power or ability to return to the original form, position, etc., after being bent, compressed, or stretched; elasticity. Elasticity...now that's a fine word.

Speaking of resiliency, I'm experiencing an end-of-twenties crisis. Some of you are privy to the terrible-awful-no-good-very-bad-thing that dropped in my lap in April, and I've been emotionally working through the fallout in these past few months. In response, I decided to grow my hair out. Sure, it's not bizarre, but I needed a change. Something that says, "you hurt me, but I'm still fabulous...with long hair, too." I haven't had long hair since 1998. And by long hair, I do mean long strands that barely danced above my elbows. Then, one weekend, Nikki Morgan and Andrea Irwin and I went to visit Nikki's sister, Naomi, at Union University. Naomi had this cute, college-girl, inverted bob, and I decided that I too must have a cute, college-girl, inverted bob, even though I was a high school twerp. Off with my hair! I cried, initially, but then got over myself when I realized how fantastic it looked.

So, here we are twelve years later, and it's taking longer than I thought it would to grow it out. It's actually beginning to brush my shoulders, and that's exciting. My new Solia flat iron is also exciting. I'm going to be Whitney Port in no time.

I'm not deliberately neglecting Paris blogs or even blogging in general, but life has certainly taken precedence the past few weeks...er...months... The past two-and-a-half weeks have been exceptionally busy, and have trended toward some friendship themes. A very good friend of mine was lamenting to me recently that she's going through a bout of friend-less-ness. It's something natural that we all go through, especially in our twenties, as we move through different stages of life.  These friendships ebb and flow, some of them growing stronger, and some of them fading away. Ironically, I'm experiencing both extremes right now:

I have an old acquaintance who is very slowly turning into a friend.  I don't get a lot of face time with this "friend," but I do recognize even this little bit of time is valuable, and I'm called to continue planting seeds. I am reminded of my purpose by her.

I have an old friend who is very slowly turning into a new friend. I know my friend is hurting. I'm not sure of my role in helping to mend the hurt, but she's certainly on my prayer radar. I am burdened by her.

I have an old friend who I recently reconnected with on a Spiritual level. She is someone who has known me for a very long time, and our similar life stages rekindled the friendship. I am edified by her.

I have a few friends that I can count on to walk beside me in matters of singleness and in Spirituality. These women live their lives set apart. I am inspired by them.

I have a few friends who are incredibly ambitious, and make many sacrifices in their lives to strive for personal success. I am motivated by them.

I have a friend who is leaving one stage of life and entering a new one. I am joyous for her.

I have a friend that is undergoing some personal trauma and loss. She is rebuilding, and I'm carefully walking alongside. I am humbled by her.

I have a friend who is new, and our connection is by circumstance. I am excited by her.

I have a friend who never fails to put a smile on my face. I am laughing by her.

I have a friend who has run away. I hope she comes back. I am saddened by her.

I have a friend who is far away. Our friendship has survived oceans. I am stabilized by her.

I have nine friends, spread out across this country. They define a large piece of my life. I am grounded by them.

Recently, my dear friend Courtney (who embodies a few of the descriptions above) introduced me to Strengths Finder 2.0. One of my top five strengths is "Relator." My Relator strength is defined by how I "enjoy close relationships with others, and find deep satisfaction in working hard with friends to achieve a goal." After I completed Strengths Finder, I realized that I have a passion for enriching and equipping the women in my life as my relationship grows deeper with each of them. In the past few months, I've been asking God to clearly define my purposes (because there are many more than just one).  My desire to see women be God's best continually arises again and again. I don't know quite what to do with that yet, but it's at least a hint of what may be to come...or of how to prepare. It occurred to me that maybe all of these diverse women in my life are contributing to something greater. I'll be sure to let you know when I figure that out. Until then...

Tornado Chaser

2010-06-13T19:57:00.002-05:00

This morning, I got up early and loaded up the car for a day at Cocoa Beach. On my way, I noticed the sky was clouding up pretty heavily. As I approached the bay port at Cape Canaveral, I glanced up ahead of me, and noticed a finger-shape extending from the wall of cloud. It kept growing, stretching down toward the water. I screamed out loud in excitement, "it's a tornado!" My foot hit the gas pedal, and I sped toward it, hoping to get closer to take a picture. But just as soon as it was there, it was gone. Still, I couldn't help but smile. The day was starting off well.

I arrived at Cocoa Beach and found parking at the public access. The beach was already crowded, so much so that I had to weave in and out of groups of people just to get to the shoreline. I settled down on my towel, and listened to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore...and the conversations next to me:

--"Wow, Funyuns! I like Funyuns!" (middle-aged man with mullet and severe southern accent)

--"I got a new flag at the Oak Mill Flea Market. It's a rebel flag with skull and crossbones." (same middle aged man with mullet and severe southern accent)

--"Girls are fun. You just gotta make sure you get one that's rich so she can buy you stuff." (same middle aged man with mullet and severe southern accent, speaking to his friend's pre-pubescent son)

A few hours at the beach were worth enduring Redneck Bojangles. This has been the best SBC yet, and it hasn't even started!

My favorite moment of today:

2010-06-12T21:37:00.002-05:00

You might be a Southern Baptist if...

2010-06-11T22:14:00.002-05:00

It's that time of year again... The SBC, a.k.a. the Southern Baptist Convention, a.k.a. [insert censored nickname here]. It's okay. I'm Southern Baptist and have been so for 29 years. I'm allowed to say it. But, I say it with love.

I flew into Orlando today, and was greeted promptly by the oppressive heat. Seriously, it's the kind of heat that even when the air conditioning in the car is on MAX, the backs of my knees still sweat. Is that TMI?
Are we way past that on the Manifesto?

I walked up to the Hertz counter at the airport this afternoon, and panicked when I realized I forgot to pack my business credit card. Without it, I can't eat. And when I don't eat regularly, I get cranky. Thankfully, my sweet roommate,Wendi, is currently applying for the sainthood, and kindly FedEx-ed it to me for Saturday morning deliver. Wendi, you can have a coke.

I was driving along one of Orlando's eight-lane roads today (which may or may not have had a damn toll booth), and I saw a dancing tooth. As in, a molar. It had googly eyes, a cartoon smile, and iridescent blue legs. And when I say dancing, I mean that bicuspid was shakin' it like a polaroid picture. I couldn't take my eyes off him. I may drive back by there tomorrow to shoot some live footage of that dancing fang. Strangely enough, the tooth had no signage. But even if the passersby could identify the dentist belonging to the pimped-out tooth, should we expect any detours for spontaneous cleanings? I digress...

For lunch today, I had sushi. Amy and I have a longstanding dream to open up a drive-thru sushi restaurant. We get tired of waiting 15 minutes for a to-go order from Miyako, or walking into Peter's in a swimsuit. When I was in L.A. last summer, I saw several McDonald's-esque sushi places that looked legit. Today, I ate at Sushiology. It didn't have a drive-thru, but with its casual-dining atmosphere, colorful menu, and pricing model, it was reminiscient of a fast food restaurant. Maybe someone with a lot of money will throw a pretty penny at a blonde, white girl to open up one of these joints in Nashvegas. And, I just know Keith and Nicole would come sign my restaurant wall, too.

I'm staying at a Quality Inn, and it ain't so quality. Nor, are my motel neighbors. Orlando brings in all kinds of folk. I'm pretty sure I saw most of them congregating at the pool today. And now, they're bumping Spanish rap outside my door and tossing back some cheap beer, likely before they go across the street to the Ice Bar (a bar in a freezer). The television has only a handful of channels. Among those are the tourist channel (featuring the twofer at the Pondergrossa) and the hotel channel (analog slideshow of 70s hotel photos, amenities listed a la Comic Sans). So, though I am shy to disclose, I was forced to watch Nancy Grace tonight. She was all over Joran van der Sloot like a duck on a june bug.

Tomorrow, I drive to Tampa to visit Tina, Patrick, and their new edition, Norah Josephine. I am so excited to hug on some baby (and so are my screaming ovaries). I need the love. Tina's kicked-breast-cancer's-ass-and-proud-of-it-friend, Rebecca, will also be there for a visit. I love her company, too.

I'm still working on Paris blogs, but let's be real... Those things are beasts that must be tamed. I will deliver, but for now, you will have what the cook is serving.

April in Paris

2010-05-31T22:00:00.010-05:00

One thing I will never do again? An overnight bus ride from Amsterdam to Paris. Em and I saved ourselves around 50 Euros, as the other option was the pricey and sleek Eurostar, but I still don't know if I can say it was worth it. After a long day outside in the cold and rain, a hard seat and drafty window weren't appreciated. At some point in Belgium, alternating between sleep and awake every 20 minutes, I wanted to stomp my feet. I might have whimpered a little bit, but I can neither confirm, nor deny.

Eight hours later, as the clock struck 6 a.m., we pulled into the Paris bus station. I was beyond drained, and it was all I could do to drag my suitcase through Paris to Emily's apartment. But, I was there...finally in Paris!

A three hour nap makes the baddies disappear. The Paris day was bright and Em and I walked around the Hotel de Ville plaza, enjoying the warmer winds and people-watching. You know you're in Paris when you see lovers displaying their love among the crowds. Parisians aren't afraid of love. They're in love with love. And you can't help but get swept up in the romance.

We met Emily's friend, Awna, at Parc de Buttes Chaumont for conversation and people-watching. It was really nice to meet Awna, as I'd heard so much about her from Emily, and she's a part of Emily's Parisian life. Late in the afternoon, we parted ways from Awna, and Em and I went to the market and the boulangerie for supper supplies. It was a lazy day first day in Paris, but I prefer to think of it as "slow," and keeping with the culture.

During my visit with Emily, her normal routine of work and school persisted, so I'd made plans for some day-long excursions. Tuesday morning, I set out for the Paris Vision travel agency, as I was to spend the day visiting Monet's house in Giverny and the Chateau de Versailles. I can't speak highly enough of the Paris Vision agency. On my last trip to Paris in 2008, we took a trip with Paris Vision to the Champagne region of France to visit various wineries and the quaint city of Reims. Not only are their trips organized well, as to maximize the sights, but their staff is very professional and their buses are very clean.

Anyway, the bus set out of a dawning Paris, but not before a drive down the Avenue des Champs-Elysees, and a loop around the Arc de Triomphe.

The sun was full and overhead by the time we arrived in Giverny. We were set free to explore Claude Monet's home and gardens, and the tiny, yet picturesque town of Giverny. Monet's cottage is stately in pink stucco, with bright green trim, matching the ambling ivy gracing its walls. Monet was a homebody, and seemed to take great pride in making his home comfortable for his guests. I especially loved his kitchen, bordered in pastoral blue and white Delft tile, and painted a cheerful, sunny yellow. In the middle of the spacious kitchen, a long dining room table floated between the stove, sink and fireplace. If guests always seem to find themselves stationed in the kitchen anyway, why not seat them there as well? I loved the coziness of it.

I spent a little while in Monet's front yard gardens, the Clos Normand, navigating my way around the large Asian tour group that descended upon the grounds. Behind Monet's front yard gardens, the pond sits, a tributary diverted from the Seine. It was easy to see why Money painted so many versions of his Waterlilies. The garden is so quiet and serene, and there are so many angles and perspectives from which one sees the light differently. I was at peace this morning, and while I would've loved to share the experience with someone else, it was nice to be alone with my thoughts.

Monet's House, Gardens, and chicken. How pastoral.

After spending a good bit of time at the pond, I wandered into the sleepy town of Giverny. Most buildings in the town are white, and it reminded me of Alys Beach on 30A in Florida, but without the ocean. I found a small park, and settled on a bench, soaking up some vitamin D and doing a little bird watching.

My little bird friend singing at my feet in Giverny

The bus loaded up, and hungrily, we rolled into our lunchtime destination, the Moulin de Fourges. The old restaurant features an operating water mill, rolling the River Epte through it's spokes. I'm an adventurous eater, but on some things, I have to draw the line. The first course was a three-fish pate, which I liken to canned cat food. It was disgusting, and oddly enough, my tablemates practically licked their plates. One thing I love about the French is the presence of wine at lunchtime. My glass of rich red wine was never empty, and was a perfect compliment to the traditional French cuisine of boeuf bourguignon.

The bus was quiet when we set off for Versailles. I tried to stay awake to the French countryside, but my eyes wanted to nap. Awhile later, we arrived in Versailles. The city of Versailles is pretty incredible, especially considering Louis XIV designed its avenues and architecture as rays, all pointing up to the Chateau de Versailles. He called himself the "Sun King," respectively.

Our tour began among the other five billion people touring the Chateau that day. Seriously, there were hoardes of people there. And, while the French do wine well, they don't do air conditioning as well...or at all. Man, it was stuffy in those seventeenth century rooms. I did see some lovely textiles, ornate furniture, and haughty portraits of French royalty, including many paintings of Marie Antoinette herself. After our tour, we were given time to explore the intricately landscaped gardens. It's a majestic sight, for sure. Monarchy and its extravagant opulence fascinate me.

One of the coolest places in all of French history: The Chateau de Versailles

On the way back to Paris, we passed the Ile des Cygnes, featuring one of the Statue of Liberty monuments in Paris. I heard of it, but never actually saw it before then. It was nice to see a piece of Franco-American history in the city.

Six days left. Stay tuned...

Who is Oman?!

2010-05-18T00:15:00.000-05:00

And so it continues...

Saturday morning, April 3, I met Emily at the Amstel Station around 7 a.m., as she'd arrived on the overnight bus from Paris. We hauled her stuff back to the hotel, and got ready for a full day in Amsterdam.

Our first stop of the morning was the Dappermarkt, Amsterdam's most famous food and flea market. A cold front moved in that morning, and the wind bit at our faces as we shopped. The clouds kept rolling in, and we lamented at the gloomy day. This didn't, however, keep us from buying. I snapped up a beautiful slate blue pashmina, a grey and black keffiyeh, and a emerald green scarf for my mom. We walked to the end of the markt, to the canal, and saw an old windmill resting at the top of the bridge.

Cheese Shop at Dappermarkt

Em and I hopped the tram to Elandsgracht in Westermarkt to shop a little at the De Looier Antiekmarkt. I didn't buy anything, but it's still nice to have a look at European antiques that are scarce stateside. We were starving by the time we finished browsing, and waded through the rain to Sara's Pancake House for some authentic Dutch lunch fare. The service was extraordinarily bad, but the pancakes were delicious. Em and I split a proscuitto, banana, and cheese pancake, and the combo of savory and sweet was delectable. For dessert, we shared an apple, rum and cinnamon pancake. We left stuffed.

One great thing about Amsterdam is the convenient and fast GVB tram service. Amsterdam is relatively small anyway, only about five miles wide and ten miles deep, and with the tram service, you can get from one side to the other quickly. This is why it's easy to hit-up most of Amsterdam's tourist attractions and boros in one day.

So, Em and I skirted across the city to one of our most anticipated stops, The Heineken Experience, at the original Heineken Brouwery. The Brouwery is no longer used to produce Heineken, but instead has been turned into a musuem with interactive exhibits. And, the price of admission even gets you a few pints of the pale, golden lager. We spent several hours exploring the museum, viewing the Shire horses, walking across the sticky beer-stained floors, and sipping some ice cold Amsterdam culture. The fresh, free beer alone made it well-worth the price of admission.

There was still a lot of cloudy day left when we departed the Brouwery, so we headed over to Dam Square to walk around. We were lucky enough to be present to witness a large crowd engage in a pillow fight, as afterall, it was International Pillow Fight Day. I know, right? The cold was really beginning to bear down at this point, so Em and I ducked into the Nieuwe Kerk.

The Nieuwe Kerk (New Church) sits in the city center of Amsterdam and has been around since the 15th century. It's a gorgeous, Neo-Gothic building, but a bit spiritually shallow to be a once Protestant church. Our iAmsterdam pass gained us free admission, and we began touring the exhibition, as the chuch is now a musuem. The exhibit, titled OMAN, featured artifacts, tools, weapons, books, and even ornate burqas. We walked through the entire exhibit, and at the exit, I paused, puzzled. I looked at Emily, and said questioningly, "what I want to know, is who is Oman?!" Emily stopped and stared at me, and then she burst out laughing. "Oman is a country in the Middle East, not a person." Oh. Well, I wondered why this church was showing off all of his stuff. The two of us continued to laugh about this, but somberly expressed our sadness at the irony of the exhibit in a Christian church. So many churches in Europe are no longer churches at all, but only historical landmarks that promote a secular worldview and contribute to spiritual darkness on this continent.

Em and I emerged back into the late-afternoon, and browsed a bit at the adjacent Magna Plaza shopping center. We were getting hungry for dinner by this time, and I was excited to take Em to my favorite Amsterdam restaurant, Ankara. But much to my dismay, my Turkish delight turned into a tapas restaurant, and eliminated most of their menu. We dined anyway, and the tzatziki dip redeemed the experience.

Can you believe we packed that all into one day? Well, I'm not done yet. After dinner, the tram took us over to Museumplein, and we took advantage of a photo op in the rain, at the I Amsterdam sign in front of the Rijksmusuem. Soaking wet and cold, we made our way over to the neighboring Leidsplein, to grab a comfy wingback by the fire at the Americain Cafe. Em and I spent the last couple hours of our evening resting over tea and sympathy...and sugared confections.

Early Sunday morning, Em and I drug our luggage to Centraal Station to stowe our bags in the lockers. The Centraal Station janitorial staff was on strike, and we were both totally grossed out by the amount of filth the train station collected. The stench wasn't a pleasant way to begin our day...especially since it was Easter morning.

Centraal Station

The rain began again, today, a steady downpour. We bought train tickets to Schiphol Airport, and then waited in the grey for the bus that would take us to Keukenhof Tulip Gardens. Em and I had been looking forward to visiting fields of cascading tulips for months, and the rain only slightly dampened our spirits. Afterall...He is Risen!

Forty-five minutes later, we arrived and began our descent into the park. At first we were a bit puzzled. We saw lots of greenery, lush grass and palatial trees. But upon closer inspection, hidden among the landscape were thousands of tulip bulbs, just peeking their stark green leaves out of the ground. My heart sank. With the cold and wet early April weather, our arrival to Keukenhof was premature.

We ducked out of the rain into one of the greenhouse pavilions, and were transported into a magical land of indoor tulip gardens. Every variety of tulip known to humanity was grown under this big glass roof. Some tulips were speckled with unique colors, and their edges were frayed like a peony. Other tulips were so gargantuan they brushed our hips when we walked by. It was an amazing site, and for a couple of hours, we photographed the different varieties.

My favorite.

The rain was still strong outside, but we ventured deeper into the gardens, hoping to see multicolored rows of Holland's own flora. The yellow tulips seemed to be the overachievers, ahead of the curve, leaving their blue and red and purple sisters sleeping in the ground. Emily and I were so disappointed, but we tried not to be. The sight of a proud windmill did excite, and we continued to amble along. After a few hours, we were cold, wet, hungry, and a bit cranky. We boarded the bus back for Amsterdam.

Lonely, unbloomed tulip field.

Yesterday while we were exploring Westermarkt, we passed a pizzeria emitting the most wonderfully fragrant oregano and basil and garlic. Our hunger remembered this pizzeria, and we spent long minutes on the bus ride back in anticipation of lunch.

In an Italian-induced coma, we swam to Musuemplein, and found our place in line for the Rijksmuseum. By that time, the cold settled over the afternoon, and we shivered in the wind. For an hour-and-fifteen minutes, we waited, attempting to entertain ourselves. Sometimes, it wasn't hard. Like when we snickered at the Asian guy behind us practically making out with his hot dog. Other times, we didn't think we'd ever enter Rijks.

Lovely woman in the courtyard of the Rijks

We did, finally, and pored over the collection of Rembrandt, Johannes Vermeer, Jan Steen, and other artists from the Dutch Golden Age. We were plum exhausted upon completion of the musuem, and headed uptown to find Melly's Cookie Bar near the Dam. Realizing we had a few more hours to kill before we boarded the overnight bus (i.e. Hell on wheels) to Paris, Em and I grabbed our hot beverages to go, and we walked up to the canal belt. Our iAmsterdam passes comped us a boat cruise through Amsterdam's historic canal system.

Emily aptly referred to our little ship as a death trap, and right she was. Our windows were inches from the murky water, and the wooden boat frame creaked and groaned at each sharp turn. With no ventilation, we became a bit claustrophobic, and suffered through the rest of the ride. This is one tourist trap that you'd be hard-pressed to get either of us to recommend.

We knew we needed dinner soon, as it would be a long bus ride without something on our stomachs. Em and I lucked out and found a little corner cafe called Soup Kitchen. The food was cheap, but the company warm, and we sat there for a long time talking and laughing at Amsteram as she walked by our window.

Our time in Amsterdam came to a close, and we reluctantly found our way to the Amstel Station to route ourselves to Paris. After inhaling a bit of second-hand doobie, we climbed into the bus and settled in for an eight-hour nap.

That's all for now. Next, April in Paris.

Plan B

2010-05-06T19:11:00.002-05:00

One morning a couple of weeks ago, I walked up to our front counter at work to wash my tea mug, when something caught my eye. It was the audio version of Pete Wilson's new book, Plan B: What do you do when God doesn't show up the way you thought He would? One of the perks for working in the book industry are the free promotional copies. But, I'll be honest...if it hadn't of had Pete's name on the top, I probably would've walked right past. Several good friends of mine are involved at Crosspoint, Pete's church, and I've enjoyed hearing him speak a few times, myself.

Anyway, I kind of half-heartedly chuckled, and rolled my eyes up at God, as I picked up the audio book and returned to my desk. My wounds from my own Plan B experience were fresh (ok, still are), and the last thing I wanted to hear was how God's plan was better than my own. I do believe, however, that Pete's audio book was divinely placed there, especially for me...even though I wanted to chuck it against the wall (Sorry Pete, it's me, not you).

As I'm working through this, I'm realizing that healing and uncertainty aren't necessarily mutually exclusive. I can accept God's sovereignty, but continue to be baffled by the reasons why. I can bear these painful scars of hurt in my body, but still manage to find joy in my soul. I can act by the spiritual wisdom of my mind, but cry out to God from my heart.

My beloved city is currently working through its own Plan B experience. Despite the ugly destruction and immeasurable suffering, I continue to see and hear of sacrificial love for others. And I have faith that God can use the bad to produce good. I believe this for Nashville. I believe this for myself.

I Amsterdam.

2010-04-21T22:28:00.038-05:00

Tonight, I begin the monumental task of chronicling my European vacation. Bear with me, in the weeks to come, as I unpack. Considering the condition of my heart right now, the distraction is nice.

I left the States on the evening of March 31 on a KLM flight to Amsterdam. As I jettisoned over the Atlantic, I battled bouts of nausea (placing blame on either the plane food, or the rapidly fluctuating cabin temperature, or my inability to sleep despite exhaustion), and watched one man fall out on the aisle next to me. By the time I arrived at Schiphol, I was a zombie. Somehow, I managed to make it to the city, and finally to my house-hotel around noon on Thursday.

My innkeeper met me at the front door of Helmers Inn, the place where I would spend the next three nights. Greg was a delight, and apologized that the room wasn't ready yet. He checked my luggage and said he would have the room ready in about an hour. I walked around the corner and found a little bakery-cafe called Vlaamsch Broodhuys to have lunch: think Dutch Panera. My first meal in Amsterdam:

As I sat at the window bar, the sun beamed through the window, as if to say "welcome." I enjoyed my meal in leisure, watching the bikers pedal by. I kind of had to pinch myself...I was in Amsterdam!

By the time I arrived back at Helmers, Greg had the room ready. He left me to my own devices, but not before he asked if I smoked "the ganja." He wanted to make sure I knew the best smoking coffeehouses. No thanks, I said. I just say no.

I unpacked a few things, bundled up against the wind, and headed out. This was my fourth trip to Amsterdam, so I arrived with a list of my favorite shops to hit, as well as sights to see. It did feel a bit weird though, as my previous three trips were on official Adtec business and I spent most of my time at IBC at the RAI.

I headed over to the Westermarkt area to walk along the grand canals and do some shopping. I wanted to visit the Anne Frank Huis, but the line was about an hour long. I punted and went to the Westerkerk instead, one of the few Protestant churches remaining in Amsterdam.

Prisengracht Canal (Princes Canal)

I spent the next few hours shopping in Westermarkt, visiting my favorite Amsterdam store, Kitsch Kitchen. By the time evening rolled around, I'd been up for more than 36 hours with no sleep, and let's be real...I'm not in college anymore. I picked up dinner at the market, went back to my hotel, and was in bed by 7.

Friday morning, I awakened fresh and ready to brave the wind and cold. I hit the Waterlooplein flea market first thing, and despite the occasional bong and porno tape, I made several purchases...like hair clips adorned with peacock and quail feathers. After browsing for awhile, I hopped the tram over to Muntplein to shop at the Kalvertoren department store, and specifically HEMA, a Dutch Target.

Munttoren (Mint Tower) on the Singel Canal

I strolled down the Singel Canal in search of Chocolaterie Pompadour, a little cafe I'd read about in one of my travel guides. I found it...

I enjoyed my solitude, Earl Grey, and strawberry tart over a novel and warmth. A little while later, I made my way to the Spui area to visit Begijnhof, an inner court featuring the "English Church" and home to Catholic single women. Upon walking through the big wooden doors at the portal of Begijnof, you leave the bustle behind and find instant peace and quiet. Immediately to my left, I found a wall of carved and painted mini-vignettes featuring well-known Bible stories.

Proof I was there.

De Krijtberg

Lunch was a fried cod sandwich from a street vendor. I couldn't quite bring myself to go for the raw herring sandwich that is authentically Dutch lunch fare. Fish in hand, I took an afternoon stroll through the Bloemenmarkt, Amsterdam's floating flower stalls. U.S. Customs and Border Protection doesn't allow tulip bulbs to immigrate in my suitcase, so I only marveled at the amazing size of some of the bulbs.

An Amsterdam Staple

My cheeks had windburn after being outside all day, so I was pleased to get some time indoors on Friday evening. I spent several hours in the Van Gogh musuem, and while my eyes feasted on his gorgeously rich Sunflowers, Irises and self-portraits, I was disappointed in the bulk of the collection. The man painted some beautiful, but he painted a lot of ugly, too. I'm just sayin.'

I dined alone that night in Leidseplein, Amsterdam's entertainment district. Actually, my table for one afforded me the opportunity for some good old-fashioned people watching, so I guess I wasn't alone afterall. Either way, I wouldn't be alone tomorrow, as Emily was going to arrive on the early bus from Paris! More to come soon...

Beauty for Ashes

2010-04-16T23:54:00.000-05:00

Today is the day I celebrate each year as my spiritual birthday. Twenty-three years ago, I made the most important decision of my entire life, as I asked Christ to enter my heart and transform my soul. At six years old, I didn't understand how this decision would equip me to handle the failures, surprises, and train wrecks that a fallen world inevitably creates.

A dear friend of mine lost a baby around this time last year, and is persevering through her grief. I received an email from her recently, and I was moved by her words: "This is an extremely difficult time of year for us, but I don't think that anyone can be more grateful for Easter than a mother who has lost her child." Incredibly wise words from a woman who knows the resurrection of Christ yields beauty for ashes.

I am experiencing some deep hurt today, and this hurt isn't likely to fade for awhile. But I know I am not walking in this hurt alone, and my Savior is at war against the source of the pain and ugliness on earth. We win, by the way.

If you read this, and you are hurting too, know that you are loved. Christ died for you, then conquered death for you, and you don't have to resign yourself to hopelessness and despair. There is a perfect purpose for you, a peace that passes all understanding. All you have to do is receive.

"...and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor."

Isaiah 61:3

March 2010! March 2010! March 2010!

2010-03-31T09:48:00.008-05:00

Hello. I forgot I author a blog. No really, I did. March, who?

March arrived quietly. My roommate, Amy, and I were relieved no apocalypse occurred. When Amy and I moved into Fort Knox two years ago, we assumed our house (and our lives as we then knew) would self-destruct, kind of like the messages sent to Inspector Gadget by Chief Quimby. Poof! It didn't happen, and we're still here, although I can't count how many times the phrase "March 2010!" has been shouted in my house in the past two years.

My cheapo straightening iron died a couple of weeks ago. In the meantime, I ordered a CHI off eBay for the bargain price of $53 bucks. It arrived from China in a brown paper wrapper, and broke as soon as I plugged it in. The cord came entirely out of the base of the unit. Pretty sure that's not supposed to happen. And, I stupidly touched the metal end that fits inside the unit, while it was still plugged in, curious to see if I could somehow fix the appliance. I got shocked. Cheap thrill, I guess. Meanwhile, I got an email from eBay saying that I'd purchased a fake, and to make sure I don't send any money to the seller. A little late for that...

In mid-March, I traveled to a foreign land to be with a handsome man, and fell a bit further down the rabbit hole. My adventure created more questions than answers, but the uncertainty is worth it because he makes me smile.

Two weekends ago, my college sorority girlfriends (a.k.a. The Menagerie) and I celebrated a little over ten years of friendship with our sixth annual Spring Menagerie Weekend. As eight of us (we were down two) piled in the living room of our hotel suite, I was reminded again of our precious friendship. These girls have seen me at my best, and they've also seen my ugly. Their wealth of collective wisdom sure does bless me.

I have good friends in my life that like to ask, "what is God teaching you right now?" This month, it's a few things:

a) He's using a friend of mine to impress mercy upon my heart. Ya'll know...mercy is not exactly my forte. But, He's deliberately putting me in situations that require an outpouring of grace, and while my obedience in this area is fitful, I do see Him changing my heart.

b) I've always known God cares about the details (2 Kings 6:1-7), and I saw this in action a couple of times this month. A dear friend lost something very special, and after some faith in action, the something special returned. I experienced a major inconvenience in the 11th hour, but a presumed impossible solution was provided to me. He's a God that numbers the stars in the sky (Psalm 147:4), the hairs on my head (Luke 12:7), and every care in my heart.

c) Paul asks in Romans 6:2, "we died to sin; how can we live in it any longer?" My Bible study and I pondered this exact question last night. Sure, we can supply an endless string of churchy answers, but ultimately, our own personal desires drive our choices. So, will I harness the power of Christ within me to avoid sin when temptation arises, or will I rest on my laurels and accept that it's just "human nature"? And, by sin, I mean the big ones and the little ones...like stealing a 39 cent peanut butter packet from the cafeteria because I wanted it for my english muffin.

Today at two, I begin a series of travel that will place me in Amsterdam for four days, then Paris for eight days. I will be in Amsterdam for two days solo, and then my old roommate, Emily, will arrive from her home in Paris for the remainder of my stay in Amsterdam. We'll then take an overnight bus to Paris, so I can experience some authentic Parisian life.

So, for the next fourteen days, I plan to do the following:

--People watch at "Brown Cafes."
--Bounce from the corner bar that serves Heineken exclusively, to the opposite corner bar that serves Amstel exclusively, and discuss which is the better Dutch beer.
--Scavenge for cheap souvenirs, knock-off sunglasses, silk pashminas, and delightfully-unique junk at large outdoor flea markets and antique stores.
--Build a rijsttafel and eat Turkish kebab at my favorite Amsterdam restaurant.
--Dance through the tulip gardens at Keukenhof on Easter Sunday.
--Admire ancient churches with a new perspective, thank you Ken Follett.
--Fall in love with the city of lights...again.
--Tote a baguette, a wheel of brie, and a bottle of Burgandy to picnic on the lawn of the Tour Eiffel.

--Pretend I am Marie Antoinette, the Queen of France, and the Chateau de Versailles is my home.
--Walk through the valley of death amidst the plague-stacked bones of the Catacombs, and cemeteries full of dead authors and artists.
--Savor falafel in La Marais, the Jewish Quarter of Paris.
--Ring the bell of the Notre Dame, a la Quasimodo-style.
--Spend some precious time with my precious friend, Emily.
--Eat pain au chocolat everyday and drink copious amounts french wine.
--Admire the haute couture of the Yves St Laurent exhibit at the Petit Palais.
--Buy an oil painting from a Parisian street artist.
--Worship at Hillsong Paris.
--Celebrate my 29th birthday my last night in Paris.

Also...

--Take my cues from Bret & Jemaine.

I've already scheduled a good cry for when I come back into work on April 14. When I got back from Paris in May of 2008, I burst into tears at work the next day. Sure, I might blame some of it on residual jet lag, but I've got to figure out a way to live like a Parisian everyday.

Until then, au revoir!

Happy Birthday, Mom!

2010-02-28T04:53:00.000-06:00

Earlier in the month, I posted my appreciation to my Dad on his birthday. My dad is a great man, but he has an amazing counterpart that contributes to his success as the leader of our family. That counterpart is my Mom. Today is her birthday. I'm thankful for her, and here's why:

My Mom always tells me she loves me. Always. She's very generous with her affection, and her hugs and kisses make my heart happy. Sometimes, I go home to visit my parents just so I can have a little cuddle-time with my Mommy. I can't ever imagine that I'll ever stop feeling like her little girl.

My Mom is the hardest working person I know. Seriously. The woman gets the job done. She's not satisfied with anything but her best, and will put in 110% even when less would be acceptable. I won't call her a workaholic though...she's not in it for the pride of a job well done. She believes she's responsible for shaping hundreds of children every year as an elementary school Principal, and her passion for these little lives is unmatched.

My Mom has an amazing ability to plan and organize, whether it be a school fundraiser, a baby shower, a Christmas Eve Brunch, a vacation, or any other event. God gave me the spiritual gift of "administration," but He placed me underneath my Mom's example in this area to strengthen my own ability.

My Mom is an incredible Mom. When Ben and I were growing up, Mom always had a hot meal on the dinner table when Dad arrived home from work. She knew the value in a family gathering for supper each evening, and as a result, some of my most joyful times spent with my family as a whole were in our dining room. She happily fulfilled all of the traditional wifely duties, but did so while working outside the home full time. She's a Super-Mom! I'm not so sure that she ever actually slept...

My Mom made family life fun for Ben and I. In the summertime, she took us to the childrens museum, to the movies, to the pool, and so many other places. She made us fun snacks like "apple smiles," and fixed us hot chocolate to thaw us out from playing outside on a snow day. Mom played games with Ben and I, and read books to us. She wrote me notes telling me how much she loved me, and put them in my lunch box. She even joined us when we wanted to play basketball in the driveway each hot summer night. Mom was very involved in my adolescence, leading my Girl Scout troop, and becoming my Acteens church leader. My memories of childhood don't exist without her.

My Mom taught me to be an independent gal. Ben and I were responsible for chores, helping with laundry, yard work, and many other tasks that teach a child how to operate as a self-sufficient adult. She didn't wait on us hand-and-foot, thank goodness. No spoiled brats allowed in her household. This parenting philosophy paid off. I appreciate her disciplines now more than ever, as a single woman who is responsible for her own well-being.

My Mom always puts others before her self. She is incredibly self-sacrificing. I am not this way naturally, and as a result, I constantly notice this fine attribute of Mom. Mom would happily give me anything I need, even if she has to do without. It's a beautiful thing to realize this about my Mom, so I can try to give back to her like she gave to me.

My Mom and I love to laugh together. She's silly, and keeps me in stitches when I'm with her. Somehow, my Mom and I find ourselves in the craziest situations when we're together. When we get tickled at something, the laughter becomes the kind that's all movement and no sound, accompanied by tears running down our faces. She and Dad brought Ben and I up in a family with an emphasis on humor, so she's acquired some pretty thick skin from all of our relentless teasing...but don't think she can't dish it out!

My Mom is the farthest thing from high maintenance as one can get. She wants for nothing, and is satisfied with what she's been blessed. Mom is a model of thankfulness for me. Come to think of it, I don't know that I've ever even heard her complain!

My Mom is incredibly talented. The woman can make anything. She does it all. She cooks, bakes, sews, crafts, constructs. And, she does it well. She's creative, she's resourceful. She's my go-to whenever I'm stumped in the kitchen, or I need a pair of pants hemmed. If there's ever a question, my Mom has the experience that leads to the answer.

My Mom always recommended the high road, and taught me the importance of pursuing right. She did this not as a moral obligation, but as a responsibility to teach me God's way. Her "mom-isms" are still stuck with me, and my children will likely hear them someday. "Do unto others, as you would have them do unto you." "Kill 'em with kindness." "Holiness before happiness."

My Mom takes great pride in her appearance, but she's not obsessed with vanity. This was always very refreshing during my tormented teen years. I believe that so much of a girl's self-esteem and confidence is modeled by her mother. My mom taught me to see both my inside and outside beauty as defined by my Creator, not by the lies imparted by the world.

My Mom always shows interest in everything I say or do. While she already knows me inside and out, she has a constant desire to know me better. I know I can trust her. She's earned the title of my Best Friend.

Happy Birthday, Mommy! I love you!

To CHI or Not To CHI?

2010-02-22T19:41:00.004-06:00

I consider myself a frugal fashionista. While I've been known to pony up a little more cash for a pair of nice jeans, high quality shoes, or the best in cosmetics, when it comes down to it, I'm a bargain basement kind of gal. I won't tell you some of the places I buy my clothes, for two reasons: 1) you wouldn't believe me by the way I dress, and; 2) I don't want you to bogart my suppliers. Seriously...I spend very little on clothing, but my closet is packed.

Anyway, it's all about making choices. I spend more on cosmetics with better ingredients, and justify the value for my dollar when my skin stays clear. However, when it comes to hair tools, I'm a cheapo. I've never spent more than $15 bucks on a curling iron or flat iron, but I'm starting to wonder if it's time for an upgrade. My Conair ceramic flat iron I got from Target is starting to lose it's ability to heat up, and let's be real...it never worked that well anyway.

For the same reason that I can't bring myself to buy a weather center, I am hesitant to acquire a professional flat iron. I've lamented to my roommate, Amy, many times that I would love to have a CHI. But spending $150 on a metal and plastic hair contraption seems to wane in importance, considering the number of starving children in the world today.

Before I absentmindedly plop down my debit card, I'd like your honest opinion. If you are a professional flat iron user, please give me the 4-1-1 on your investment.

I'd like to know:
--Which brand/model flat iron do you use?
--How long have you owned it?
--Have you experienced any manufacturing issues with the product?
--Did you previously own a cheapo flat iron?
--If so, can you tell the difference? How?
--What kind of temperature range should I seek on a professional flat iron?
--What's the difference between a $150 CHI and a $75 CHI?
--Are there brands that make a professional flat iron better than CHI?
--Would you recommend I upgrade?

Queen MAB Consumer Reports appreciates your feedback!

Extraordinary

2010-02-13T13:28:00.001-06:00

Since the time I completed my first Beth Moore Bible study (Stepping Up) back in fall of 2007, I've been dying to meet Christian author and speaker, Beth Moore. I am one of thousands of women who has been encouraged by Beth and taught how to study the Word. She empowers me to be who God created me to be. I'm so very thankful for her.

So, back in November, I was approached by Tyndale to host Beth at my Franklin LCS for an author signing event for her new book, So Long, Insecurity. Clearly, I jumped at the chance, and spent three months planning and promotion in anticipation of the event. Finally, last Thursday, I met her.

As I pre-flapped and passed books to her during the signing, I watched as woman after woman approached her, humbly offering their appreciation. And to each woman, she edified and encouraged, hugged and loved, laughed and cried with them. She made every woman in front of her feel like the most important person in her world.

While I spent some conversational time with Beth on Thursday, I failed to tell her how much she's influenced my life. I should've told her that my Bible study girls and I lovingly call her B-Mo. I should've told her that she helped unify my Bible study and taught us how to dissect Scripture daily. I should've told her that her Anointed, Transformed & Redeemed study of King David's life helped me conquer my own bondage to sin. I should've told her that she helped me see Esther's courage and faith so I could seek mine from the Lord. I should've told her that every morning I recite the Five Statement Pledge of Faith from Believing God. Instead, I smiled at her, hugged her, and simply thanked her.

Clearly, God has given Beth a supernatural gift to love women, and has made her this special instrument to be used for His glory. Beth is just a simple woman who God made extraordinary. I realized that God can also do that in my own life. He can take this simple, ordinary girl and make her into something incredible too.

At Risk

2010-02-09T21:53:00.000-06:00

risk: (noun)
1) exposure to the chance of injury or loss;
2) a hazard or dangerous chance.

I've been thinking a lot about risk lately. For, perhaps, the first time in my life, I found something I'm willing to take a gamble. And this scares the living hell out of me.

Certain cliches designated as the themes of the American "romantic comedy" are pretty and convenient; such as, "the bigger the risk, the greater the reward." But Hollywood doesn't make movies with themes like, "the bigger the risk, the greater the damage." That doesn't sell.

My risk could turn into something beautiful. Or, it could be a train wreck.

That I'm even willing to talk about this somewhat openly is a big step outside my type-A comfort zone. I can't help but to be guarded. 28 years of singleness will do that to a girl. Can I get an Amen?

I'm so afraid of getting hurt. So afraid. But, I know two things:

1) God is sovereign.

2) He hasn't let me down yet.

Happy Birthday, Dad!

2010-02-06T18:39:00.002-06:00

At my Bible study retreat several weeks ago, we watched an Andy Stanley video series called "Go Fish," focusing on evangelism. Andy asked us to write a letter to the person that led us to Christ, and tell them how thankful we are for their influence.

That person in my life was my Dad. I believe it was a Sunday afternoon in April of 1988. I was about to be seven years old, and I think I asked questions that prompted him to tell me how to have a relationship with Christ. I remember Dad emphasizing the eternal importance of my decision, and then leading me through a prayer. I also remember him telling me how proud he was of me, and that I should go tell Mom. I was baptized about a week later on Sunday, April 16, 1988.

Today is my Dad's birthday. I am so thankful for him, and here's why:

My Dad has always been the spiritual leader of my family. He made it a priority for my family to be at church on Sunday morning. He encouraged us to read our Bibles, pray, ask questions about our faith, and get involved in ministry. Dad taught me to swim against the current, and to pursue righteousness and holiness. I credit Dad with laying and cementing key bricks in my spiritual foundation.

My Dad dearly loves my Mom, and he dearly loves Ben and I. There were times when Ben and I were growing up that Dad was pulling 70 hour work weeks. However, he still managed to coach my basketball team, lead Ben's boy scout troop, help me with my math homework, and so much more. He always put us first, and I never doubted it.

My Dad always believed in me, always encouraged me. I've mentioned this before, but around nine years old, I decided I wanted to be the first female President of the United States. Some of you (myself included), are probably rolling your eyes, but Dad never did. He said, "do it." In fact, he said "do it" for anything that I expressed interest. He gave me way more credit than I ever deserved--believed in me much more than I'm capable--but it was given to me nonetheless. Dad never put limits on my success. As a result, I'm always excited to call dad with good news, especially when it involved school and now, my career. His approval means so much.

My Dad always makes me feel special. He never fails to ask me what's going on in my life, and he remembers the details. I can tell that it's important to him to be involved in my story. How extraordinary is it for a single girl to have a man in her life who loves her this much?

My Dad has a heart of gold. He is kind to the core, and aims for servanthood. Mom and I laugh because Dad always seems to find himself in situations where he is helping complete strangers, even though it may be incredibly inconvenient. But, he never complains, and I love what this says about his character.

My Dad impressed upon me the importance of mercy, grace, and forgiveness. He taught me to manage expectations with people, and to always give someone the benefit of the doubt.

My Dad was a strict disciplinarian, and set strong boundaries in his household. I was constantly challenged growing up, and Dad didn't put up with any misbehavior. But, he also knew when to bend, and when to give.

My Dad manages his family finances responsibly. He always advised me to default to saving a dollar versus spending a dollar. Dad encouraged me to open a savings account at an early age, and to live within my means. And, maybe even more importantly, he led me by example in tithing. As a result, I've always been able to joyfully follow suit.

My Dad is the funniest person I know, hands down. He has this unique ability to make me double over in laughter with the simplest facial expression. I can't be in a room with him without giggling. I get him, and he gets me.

Freud, say what you will, but my Dad is the yardstick, to which all the other men in my life must measure up.

Happy Birthday, Daddy. I love you!

Four Seasons

2010-02-01T21:20:00.003-06:00

My roommate, Amy, just walked in my bedroom and sang Happy Birthday to my blog. You see, The Queen MAB Manifesto turns four years old today. Four years of documenting my tumultuous twenties. Priceless. I only wish I began sooner.

Reviewing four years of cheers, fears, and tears, I chose one favorite post from each year.

In 2006, a quiet evening of knitting with Natalie turned into the Mousecapades.

In 2007, I learned 26 very important lessons.

In 2008, I closed the chapter on the Aspen Bungalow, and opened a new one at Fort Knox.

In 2009, Courtney drew a picture on my dry-erase board. Maybe I'll get her to add another bird soon. And if not, I know I'll be just fine.

Thank you for faithful readership, for your encouragement, for your challenge. I appreciate you.

I can...but I won't.

2010-01-31T21:17:00.000-06:00

Tonight, I began the 11-week Beth Moore Daniel Bible study during my quiet time. Several years ago, I studied the book of Daniel in-depth with my small group. We memorized twelve verses from the text, one from each chapter. Our main source of supplementary information was a commentary written by James Montgomery Boice. I hold the book of Daniel near and dear to my heart, as it's one of the first books of the Bible that I studied inductively.

Fast forward a few years, and it's time to dig back into Daniel. While God taught me so much during that first go-round, He's got even more to teach me now. Tonight, it is self-control.

Self-control and discipline have always been seemingly untouchable for me. For the formative years of my life, it didn't matter much, as I walked a straight and narrow path. Then, when I hit my twenties, I began to take little (and some big) detours from this path. Sometimes, that wasn't a bad thing, as I escaped the shackles of legalism that controlled my life. But, in the process, I also caused myself a ton of heartbreak by dabbling in a friendship with the world, and seeking to glorify myself and my personal desires.

I'm finally back on a fixed path (not necessarily an easy one), and I'm learning what it means to choose to live obediently---not because it is required of me, but because Christ transformed my heart. And, in that, I must not only exercise restraint with my choices, but also realize that my choices shouldn't be driven by self-glorification, but by the pursuit of holiness.

Paul says in both 1 Corinthians 6:12 and in 1 Corinthians 1o:23 that "everything is permissable, but not everything is beneficial/constructive. Everything is permissable, but I will not be mastered by anything."

So, basically, as a sanctified believer, I have the freedom to make simple choices about where I go, what I do, who I engage, etc. But while I am covered by both my sins and my transgressions (Psalm 32:1), I have been empowered by Christ to make wiser choices about where I go, what I do, who I engage, etc.

Beth said on the video tonight, "I can...but I won't." I am saying tonight, "I can...but I won't." Sometimes, the first step is to say it aloud. Isn't that what they teach you in AA? "Hi, I'm Mary Anna. I'm a self-aholic."

"But Daniel resolved not to defile himself with the royal food and wine, and he asked the chief official for permission not to defile himself this way." Daniel 1:8

He could have. But he didn't.

Peace.

2010-01-30T11:31:00.001-06:00

Foodie

2010-01-29T22:43:00.001-06:00

Nothing would be more tiresome than eating and drinking, if God had not made them a pleasure, as well as a necessity. ~Voltaire

1) How do you take your eggs? Soft-poached

2) How do you take your coffee/tea? For coffee, black. For tea, two Splenda and sometimes a splash of cream.

3) Favorite breakfast food? Grits

4) Peanut butter: smooth or crunchy? Crunchy

5) What kind of dressing on your salad? Balsamic Vinaigrette

6) Coke or Pepsi? Diet Coke or DDP

7) You’re feeling lazy, what do you make? Bowl of cereal. Or, I call Amy and beg her to go to Miyako with me for some SUSHI!

8) You’re feeling really lazy. What kind of pizza do you order? Hawaiian

9) You feel like cooking. What do you make? Baked chicken with green beans and creamed cauliflower.

10) Do any foods bring back good memories? Cheese grits remind me of Christmas

11) Do any foods bring back bad memories? Eggplant reminds me of a really mean ex-co-worker I once traveled with to Amsterdam. I could say her name, and many of you would groan, but I'll exercise restraint.

12) Do any foods remind you of someone? Sugar cookies remind me of Mamaw

13) Is there a food you refuse to eat? Squash.

14) What was your favorite food as a child? Pizza

15) Is there a food that you hated as a child but now like? Green Beans

16) Is there a food that you liked as a child but now hate? Pretty much any processed food that comes in a box and can be found in the freezer section.

17) Favorite fruit and vegetable: Nectarines. Bell Peppers.

18) Favorite junk food: Ice cream

19) Favorite between meal snack: Apple & peanut butter

20) Do you have any weird food habits? I like fruit and raw vegetables at room temperature, not refrigerated. I find the fruit or vegetable loses its flavor when too cold.

21) You’re on a diet. What food(s) do you fill up on? Lean, grilled meats, vegetables, fruits, and I cut out sugar.

22) You’re off your diet. Now what would you like? Pasta!

23) How spicy do you order Indian/Thai? I like a strong spice level, but not extremely hot spices.

24) Can I get you a drink? Red wine, or a cold beer.

25) Red or White Wine? Depends on what I'm eating, but if I'm just sipping, I'll always choose red...unless it's a hot summer night and a front porch is involved...then it's a cool, crisp white.

26) Favorite dessert? Ice cream.

27) The perfect nightcap? A bowl of crunchy cereal with 2% milk.

And now, it is your turn to share!

Twas the Night Before the Blizzard

2010-01-28T22:24:00.001-06:00

'Twas the night before the blizzard,
when all through the Knox;

Not a creature was stirring,
not even a Fox.

The snowboots were sitting by the door with care,
In hopes that Frosty would soon be there.

The roommates were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sleeping late danced in their heads.

And Mary Anna in her bed, with Uma's whirring rap,
Had just settled down for an overnight nap.

When out on the lawn there fell such a smatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the blinds and and peered through my lash.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But long icicles, and the most snow in a year.

With the weather forecast so accurate and right,
I knew in a moment my Friday was white.

More rapid than rain, the school closings they came,
And I whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now Sumner! Now, Davidson! Now, Williamson and Smith!
Off, Grundy! Off, Cheatham! Off, Trousdale and Wilson!

To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Now stay home! Stay Home! Stay Home all!

The chatter of cold held tight in my teeth,
And the steam of my hot tea encircled my head like a wreath.

I had a smiling face and a full breakfast belly,
That shook, when I laughed, as I watched the tele.

I spoke not a word, but went straight to relaxing,
But then decided, I better work on my taxing.

Then laying my finger aside my nose,
I ran outside, and froze my toes!

I sprang into the snow,
to my roommates gave a whistle,

And out the door they all flew,
like a speeding missle.

But they heard me exclaim,
as my snow angel was in sight,

"Happy Snow Day to all, and to all a lovely white!"

Sew What?

2010-01-27T22:23:00.003-06:00

Because it's a slow night in the blogosphere, because I like lists, and because I've still got a little Las F in my blood, I give you five tools for keeping your wardrobe looking brand new:

Sewing Kit
It should include the basics like neutral-toned threads, needles, safety pins, and a few buttons. If you really want to get adventurous, throw in some hem tape. There's no reason you should throw out a perfectly good shirt because it's missing a button, or ship out a pair of pants because of a raveled cuff. And, you don't need to be a seamstress to effectively doctor your garments. Remember...it doesn't have to look pretty, it just needs to be functional.

Rit Dye
I've got a pair of pants in my closet that are a rich shade of burgandy merlot. After a season of wear and wash, they start to look a bit tired and faded. For a few bucks each year, I make them brand new again by dying them back to their natural shade with a bottle of Rit Dye. All you need is a cup of salt, your kitchen sink or washing machine, and about an hour to perk those pants right up! Rit also works extraordinarily well for dark jeans and black pieces that seem to fade out fast.

Lint Shaver
I was given a black sweater coat for Christmas one year while I was in college, and it's still a winter staple...especially now that sweater coats rotated back in style. The coat is wool, and habitually forms lint balls on the undersides of the arms and on the backside. Invest in a battery-powered lint shaver, and spend about ten minutes on your knotted sweater. Not only is lint shaving rather satisfying, I promise your sweater will look brand new.

Cedar Blocks
This fragrant wood not only initiates nostalgia, but it also repels moths. Protect your winter coats while they hang in your hall closet during the off season. Hang a few cedar blocks (you can buy them with a hanger hook) among your clothes, and when winter hits, you won't be caught with holes in your pockets.

Mesh Bag for Delicates
If you can't spend the time hand-washing your bras, you can at least give them a little extra support while they're in the spin cycle. A mesh bag will keep your delicates from twisting around and getting hung on other garments inside the washing machine. In addition, you can throw in scarves, shoestrings, lingerie, pantyhose, or any other unmentionables you don't want to snag.

If You're Into It

2010-01-26T08:02:00.000-06:00

Flight of the Conchords sing a song called, "If You're Into It." Bret croons to his new girlfriend, Coco, and Jemaine provides accompaniment on both vocals, a toy piano, and the Bell Lyre, a.k.a. the portable glockenspiel. It's rather inappropriate, but if that doesn't bother you, it's hilarious. Otherwise, keep reading.

I digress...

Here's what I'm currently into:

My Berlitz French Phrase-a-Day desktop calendar
Today's entry is "Etes-vous celebataire?" That means, "are you single?" Interesting that the French word for "single" borrows the latin root, "calibatus," meaning "celibate." Just sayin. Anyway, this was an entry from last week:

It's been hanging outside my office, and has become a commonly uttered phrase around the marketing department.

My Hello Kitty stamp
I found this while digging in the Dollar Bin at Target. From time-to-time, Tar-zhey will carry cheap Sanrio items, and my inner elementary school girl takes note. When I was in fifth grade, I belonged to a Sanrio Club, and we met on the concrete steps out on the playground. I think the club lasted for about three days and then we disbanded. But it was fun carrying around my Kerokerokeroppi clipboard for a little while. Obviously, I didn't quite leave Sanrio in the past, and can now stamp Hello Kitty's head on my PPS routing sheets.

My Daily London Fog
It's really a tea latte, and while I stray from the original recipe, it sure is better than any pathetic Starbucks creation. I take one part hot water, add 1/4 part sugar free french vanilla creamer, two Splenda packets, and one Bigelow Earl Grey tea bag. I love spending my morning with the Earl.

The "Sia" station on Pandora
Pandora is customizable, internet-streaming radio. I don't know how I'm able to listen at work, but that must mean my computer somehow reaches around our company firewall. Big Brother has banned Pandora access from all company computers. So, I'm not that I'm complaining. I'm digging the "Sia" station right now, featuring the likes of Zero 7, Kate Earl, Feist, Mazzy Star, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Amiee Mann, Thievery Corporation, A Fine Frenzy, Cat Power, Fiona Apple, and Frou, among others.

Dried Mango Slices from Trader Joe's
Siebe brought a package of these flat orange beauties to our Bible Study retreat. It was like instant obsession, and now I'm hooked. Chewy, sweet, and satisfying. I imagine dried mangos will be on the banquet table when I get to Heaven someday.

Redbox
Whomever is the genius behind this Redbox contraption may as well be my idol. I'm pretty cheap, so their one dollar price-tag on new releases suits my fancy well. And, there are five Redboxes located within three miles of my house, making it convenient to rent the mindless droll Hollywood pumps out these days.

Shady Lady Palette from The Balm
Santa (a.k.a. yours truly) stuffed my stocking with this nine-shadow palette for eyes at Christmas. The tones are woodsy and earthy...just the way I like my men (in case you forgot).

Possibility
I'm excited about someone and something on the horizon. Hopefulness feels good.

Dead Sea Nail Buffer
My sister-in-law, Brittany, got accosted at the mall a little while back by a kiosk salesman, pimping the "Dead Sea Nail Buffer Block." She reluctantly gave him her hand, and he got her fingernails shining like glass in no time. She mentioned that she almost bought one for me for Christmas because she knows I like to do my own nails, but the little bugger cost 30 bucks. So, my sweet brother, Ben, got online and found the same thing for pennies on the dollar, and gave me one for Christmas. I love this little gem, and it really does create a blinding sheen, much better than the drugstore buffers. My fingernails shine like the top of the Chrysler Building!

Running a pen out of ink
I prefer certain types of ink pens. I must be my father's daughter, since my Dad asked me for two boxes of his favorite gel pen for Christmas. Today, I sent a green Uniball Vision, fine point pen to the office supply graveyard, i.e. my trashcan, as it ran out of ink. And, I found the experience strangely satisfying, as if I saw something through to fruition. That's not all... The retiring of one pen means that I get to select a new pen out of my pen cup. The possibilities in my pen cup seem endless, and I chose a red Uniball Vision Elite.

It's the simple things in life, folks.

Tonight

2010-01-25T23:02:00.000-06:00

Tonight, I tried to empathize over a piece of pepperoni pizza, but realized instead I will never truly understand.

Tonight, I felt helpless when my Mom mentioned her tooth pain.

Tonight, I practiced kindness from the heart, and not just from the mouth.

Tonight, I accepted an invitation to be a bridesmaid in a sweet friend's wedding and gushed at her newly purchased wedding dress.

Tonight, I produced my copy of Dave Ramsey's self-published, first edition, autographed, Financial Peace, and commented on the "David Koresh" glasses he wore in his book jacket photo.

Tonight, I giggled as one roommate crushed, and one roommate crashed.

Tonight, I learned a bit about Southern Germany, and things associated with rocketry.

Tonight, I got that giddy feeling one can only get when in very special company.

The Cats

2010-01-24T19:50:00.004-06:00

I'm back from a relaxing and quiet weekend at Rock Island State Park with my Bible study girls, and I already want to go back. There were only four of us that went, as Steph was sidelined by the plague at the last minute. Sadness. But, while we missed her, we had fun, nontheless.

We arrived to an empty park on Friday night around nine, and our check-in instructions were taped to the Park Ranger station window. As we rolled back into the park to the cabin area, we noticed that no cabin was occupied. Must be a slow month for Tennessee State Parks. Anyway, as soon as we got the car unloaded, we realized we weren't alone afterall...

These little buggers were peeping in on us, mewing, wanting some attention...err...food.

While we slept, they must have rallied the troops, because these lovelies were up to greet us at the crack of dawn. I'm thinking they were drawn by the smell of bacon grease...

Here's our lovely Cabin #9. I was totally impressed with how spacious, clean, well-decorated, and furnished our Rock Island Retreat was, especially since we stayed in that train wreck of a cabin at Standing Stone State Park last year.

Saturday morning, the four of us trekked out for some nature and hiking. It only took about ten minutes to get my camera propped up on top of my car so we could have a group photo in front of our cabin.

Front: Mandy, MA. Back: Molly, Siebe

Our first stop was to have a look at Twin Falls, just downstream from the Great Falls Dam. I'm not so sure why the water was a greenish-gray color. Not exactly appealing, yet still pretty darn gorgeous.

After our stop at the Falls, we did some hiking in the park. At one point, we stopped on a bridge overlooking a babbling creek. Mandy decides she'd like to balance beam, "Dirty Dancing" style, over the creek. Needless to say, that didn't quite work out...

Along the trail, we saw quite a bit of water roaring through the gorge, including these whitewater rapids.

After a few hours of hiking, we returned to our cabin and wolfed down some PB&J out on the picnic table in our backyard. The cats swarmed and surrounded us, and it kind of felt like we were in some twisted horror film, and we were about to be eaten alive by rabid cats.

Later that afternoon, I went to the kitchen to close the window, and saw this:

Creepy.

It poured rain on the drive home today, but it was worth the weekend of praising the Lord with my Sisters.

Retreat

2010-01-22T15:29:00.000-06:00

This dragging week is almost over, and my weekend is just about to begin! I'm traveling to Rock Island State Park tonight to retreat with my Bible study gals. It should be a time of learning, fellowship, relaxation, and laughter. And, if the weather holds out, a little hiking too! I'm so excited!

While I'm gone, I will be sans internet and phone service. And, I couldn't be happier. So, I'm breaking the 31-day NaBloPoMo Challenge on Saturday. You won't hear from me tomorrow. Secretly, I need the break. January's been a long month. But, hopefully I'll be refreshed and back in the blogosphere on Sunday. Until then, happy weekend to you!

Say Hello to My Little Friends

2010-01-21T21:09:00.008-06:00

Do you hear the crickets? I do. They're the sound of me staring at my computer screen, unable to come up with anything worthy of a blog post. So, I'll let my friends do the work for me tonight.

Practicing Creativity
My dear friend Courtney is a card crafter. She recently released a set of photopolymer stamps for purchase. And her artsy creations are always featured in card magazines. Check her out!

The Adventures of The HandyGraham
A college friend of mine, Graham, is one of the best "handymen" in Nashville, and he's making his livelihood on fixer-uppers. He's even been given several Nashville Scene awards for his services. But, a little over ten years ago, I sat alongside him in our Journalism courses. The kid knows how to write too and has some very interesting insights on life.

The Pioneer Woman
While I don't know Ree personally, I do know that I want to be her. She's a reformed city girl, now married to a cattle farmer and the homeschooling mom of four kiddos. She cooks, she bakes, she writes, she decorates...and she takes photos to prove it.

Big Mama
Her name is Melanie, and she's a mama from Texas. I love reading about her daily shenanigans and her delightful comments of witty self-deprecation. And her daughter, Caroline, is such a ham. I'm pretty sure she's my alter-ego. I love it.

Tartlette
Helen is a French pastry chef living in South Carolina. Her food photography is some of the finest on the internet, and I guarantee you'll drool. Check out her polenta croutons from Wednesday!

Bitter Grace

2010-01-20T20:28:00.001-06:00

On my lunch break today, I swam upstream amidst the downpour, to the Nashville Public Library. My goal was to pick-up a History Channel documentary on the twelve apostles for our Bible study retreat this coming weekend. So, I'm bebopping along, listening to my high-heeled boots click along the marble floors and echo off the lobby walls of our gorgeous downtown library. I looked good today, and I don't mind saying so. My hair was bouncy, I had on dangly earrings, and my sapphire blue satin top shimmied as I walked. Let's just be real....I strutted across that library, and I knew I was being noticed.

After conducting my library-related business I sashayed back across the marble floor, and made my way to the exit. I must of had momentum when turning the corner, because in a mere second, my foot slipped out from under me and I took a great fall. Thankfully the only people who saw was a young mother and her toddler, but I was still mortified, nonetheless. What's with me and my ability to walk lately? Do other people have these issues?

My name literally translates to "Bitter Grace." Mary, meaning "bitter," and Anna, meaning "grace." Are Mom and Dad prophets? Did they know they would raise such a clumsy daughter?

If you would like further evidence of my spazziness, let me take you back to January of 2006. I was one of the few females employed at a technology firm in East Nashville, and I was constantly fighting against perception that the PR girl was just around to "look pretty."

On Friday afternoon, I'm sitting in our conference room with about fifteen other men, including our company President, Vice Presidents, and my boss. Another female coworker was in the room with me, and she was sitting right beside me. The room was silent as our President spoke, training us on a new product the company would release a few months later.

I'm sitting in an old, rickety, rolling office chair with only four legs at the bottom forming an X shape. I assume this chair was built in the seventies, before the days of safety codes and product standards. It's nearly impossible to find a rolling office chair these days with any less than five legs for stabilization.

So, I've got my legs crossed, and a stack of paperwork in my lap. I lift my hand, and the top sheet of paper flutters away, and down to the floor. I lean over to pick it up, legs still crossed, and my female coworker does the same. She realizes I'm going to get to the paper first, so she straightens back up. As she does, her right leg extends behind her, and she accidentally kicks one leg of my chair.

The chair shoots backward, and I shoot forward, onto the ground. My legs are still crossed under me, and one foot is tangled in the chair. My chin has a burn rash from where it hit the carpet. And the worst part is I can't get up quickly enough.

Now, picture a silent, serious room, full of men with big egos, and a 24-year-old girl, trying to prove she can hang with the big boys, but instead, flails like a fish on the conference room floor. I've never been more embarrassed in my entire life. Except, maybe, since the time I accidentally walked into the men's restroom at Outback when I was eleven years old. Forgive me for not knowing the difference between "sheilas" and "blokes."

I'll be honest, though...I've told the above story many times to many people, and it's never failed to illicit peals of laughter from my audience. It is funny. On my way home from work that day, I called Mom and told her what happened, and I cried...but I laughed too...just like you are right now.

But, Perfect Love Drives Out Fear.

2010-01-19T21:51:00.004-06:00

I laid in bed the past few nights, unable to sleep. I didn't get a lot of rest this past weekend, and as a result, I've been really tired this week. But when I lay my head down on the pillow, I can't seem to turn off. My brain is moving 90 mph, as I mentally review my "to do" list. But really, there is something a bit more threatening going on inside my head, and it's called fear.

While I do understand the personal source of my fear, I feel unable to conquer its presence in my life. Ultimately, a fear translates to a lack of faith in my God and His plan for my life, so clearly I've got an issue to confront.

I spent some time tonight referring to my notes from Beth Moore's Esther Bible study I completed back in the Spring. In week five, we learn that Esther makes the decision to approach the King to ask for clemency for her people and to expose Haman's evil plotting. The magnitude of risk in even approaching the King was high, especially for a woman. And, to publicly stand up against her manipulative enemy? Esther had a right to be feel daunted.

But as Mordecai reminded Esther in 4:14, "who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?" It's simple, really. Christ conquered death, gave me eternal life, and intends for my life to reflect His glory and power. Who am I to be fearful of my circumstances?!

So, I will seek wisdom from His Word, and put my fear at bay. Beth says that the most frequent command in the Bible is "do not fear." Here's just a sampling:

"There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love." 1 John 4:18

"See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me." Isaiah 49:16

"But now, this is what the Lord says---He who created you, O Jacob, He who formed you, O Israel; 'Fear not for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine.'" Isaiah 43:1

"Do not be afraid; you will not suffer shame. Do not fear disgrace; you will not be humiliated. You will forget the shame of your youth and remember no more the reproach of your widowhood." Isaiah 54:4

"But blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in Him. He will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit."
Jeremiah 17: 7-8

"For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of Sonship." Romans 8:15

"For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline." 2 Timothy 1:7

Remembering Dr. King

2010-01-18T08:54:00.005-06:00

In my sixth grade gifted enrichment class, my teacher asked us to write a paper on our hero or heroine. For reasons that I'm still not sure of, I chose Martin Luther King, Jr. Afterall, what does a 12-year-old white, upper-middle class, white girl have in common with a middle-aged, Baptist preaching, black man? On paper, not much. But even as a sixth grader, I understood the significance of equality for all, and just how ugly society can become if there aren't men and women like Dr. King to stand up for the validity of all of God's creation. I am excited and honored by Dr. King's legacy to our country, because he fought not only for African-American rights, but human rights for all. I remember him today with pride.

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. And so we've come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we've come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the "unalienable Rights" of "Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note, insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds."

But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. And so, we've come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice.

We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. And those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. And there will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people, who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice: In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again, we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.

The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. And they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom.

We cannot walk alone.

And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead.

We cannot turn back.

There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their self-hood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating: "For Whites Only." We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until "justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream."

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. And some of you have come from areas where your quest -- quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive. Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed.

Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends.

And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of "interposition" and "nullification" -- one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; "and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together."

This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with.

With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

And this will be the day -- this will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning:

My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing.

Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim's pride,

From every mountainside, let freedom ring!

And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.

And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.

Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.

Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania.

Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado.

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California.

But not only that:

Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia.

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee.

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi.

From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:

Free at last! Free at last!

Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!

And the award goes to...

2010-01-17T23:07:00.002-06:00

Award Show season is officially underway, and while I could care less who wins what, I love feasting my eyes on the gorgeous dresses! Tonight, actresses sashayed across a soggy red carpet at a rainy Golden Globes. I had to make myself narrow it down to my top ten favorite dresses, but I left room for five honorable mentions.

10. Her Twilight character was fashionably minded, so it shouldn't be a surprise that Anna Kendrick knows how to pick an award show dress. Her intricately beaded Marchesa gown lends itself to the A-list Hollywood players.

9. If your dress boasts sequins and a belt, you're guaranteed to make my best dressed list. Paula Patton's Kaufmanfranco creation is sure to score high on the critics' lists too.

8. Ginnifer Godwin has good consistency in her red carpet choices, but she's not afraid to be daring. Not many people can pull of a pixie 'do, or a dress that makes a statement like this Vionnet cobalt number.

7. America's favorite administrative assistant, Pam...I mean Jenna Fischer...traded in her cardigan and oxfords for a 1920s flapper-style Halston gown. It suits her slim figure well. But I did see Jim on the arm of Emily Blunt. I hear they're engaged. That's just wrong.

6. Who says that comedy and glamour don't mix? I'd like to high-five Amy Poehler for her chiffon Jay Godgrey choice, but that probably wouldn't be very ladylike. The floral touch at the shoulder is nice.

5. I'm not sure if Penelope Cruz has ever looked anything but elegant on the red carpet. She's not afraid of classic black and lace, and I imagine she floats across the pavilion in this dress from the Giorgio Armani Prive Collection. It's hard to tell from the photo, but adorning this dress is 69 carats of Chopard diamonds. Seriously.

4. Young Hollywood has a new face, and it's Kristen Bell. This Jasmine di Milo satin frock gives a girl curves in all the right places, and shows off her fabulous gams. And it still manages to exude class and style.

3. I'm not ashamed to admit that I want to be Tina Fey, with all of her quirkiness. I probably wouldn't have chosen this Zac Posen dress for the red carpet, but she somehow pulls it off. I think I can hear Gene Kelly "Singin' in the Rain."

2. I squealed with Glee the first time I laid eyes on this dress. It's clearly Oscar de la Renta and has the tulle skirt to prove it. Lea Michele has a long career ahead of her, so why not bust out a top designer dress on your first red carpet run?

1. I love, I love, I love. Sand is a difficult color for success, but this classy lady, Jennifer Morrison, wins the evening. The dress is made by Puerto Rican designer, Luis Antonio, and satisfies my deep desire for ruffles. Lots of ruffles. Look at the way she's got her hand on her hip. She knows.

Honorable Mention - As a woman ages, it becomes a bit more daring to wear bold jewel tones, like the royal purple Bottega Veneta dress worn by Sandra Bullock. But she knows that her big night needs a big dress. Nice job, Sandy.

Honorable Mention - Old Hollywood never goes out of style. Toni Collette glams in this Elie Saab beaded, art-deco gown. She's golden.

Honorable Mention - She's nuts, and her bosoms are a bit in your face, but Mariah can still pick a win with a Herve Leger dress. Girl's got an hourglass figure like the opening credits of Days of Our Lives.

Honorable Mention - Here's that sequin thing again. I can't help it. If it sparkles and glitters, I'm attracted like a moth to a flame. This Stella McCartney dress is a step outside the box for her, and I'm digging it's edge. But, Anna Paquin, the shoes have got to go.

Honorable Mention - Eggplant is a safe choice, but that doesn't mean it doesn't impress. Rose Byrne's Lanvin column dress is elegant and chic.

Practical Provision

2010-01-16T16:32:00.003-06:00

I love it how God is a God of everday miracles. You might remember the shipping issues I experienced earlier in the month. Well, a solution has been provided.

CERI is going to allow me to write them a check and they will buy winter clothes, toys and school supplies for Marina and Veronica. And better yet, they will hand-deliver the goods, and take photos of the girls receiving their gifts from me.

So, what am I going to do with the box of clothes and toys I have on my hand already? I'm looking for a family with two preteen girls that might be in need of some warm clothes. If you know of anyone in need that might benefit from these, please let me know. There are two sets of clothes (sweaters, pants, pajamas, etc.), toys and school supplies. The clothing sizes will fit Girls size 12-14 and/or Juniors 0-2.

Thank you, God. Thank you for loving two orphans in Moldova, and loving two little girls in Nashville.

Joy!

2010-01-15T23:59:00.001-06:00

Tonight, God answered my prayer, and I am joyful, and so very thankful!

"Wait for the Lord and keep His way. He will exalt you to inherit the land." Psalm 37:34

"Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever." Psalm 23:6

"The Lord will indeed give what is good, and our land will yield its harvest." Psalm 85:12

Cereal Eater

2010-01-14T19:58:00.002-06:00

Sunday nights at my house while growing up were cereal nights. The four of us would arrive home from evening church, and pour ourselves bowls of crunchy bran and puffed rice just in time to watch Life Goes On and America's Funniest Home Videos. Cold cereal was part of my childhood, so why shouldn't it have a place in my adulthood?

I was eating a bowl of Corn Flakes tonight, and I announced to my roommates that I could eat cereal everyday for the rest of my life. I'm not so sure I'm willing to stand behind my statement in a court of law, but I sure do love cereal. So, I got to thinking... Why do I love it so much?

Mom tells the story of when I was a baby, standing in my crib in the wee hours of the morning, calling out, "O's!" She would go to the kitchen, fetch me some Cheerios, and then return to bed, knowing she'd scored another couple of hours of rest. Cheerios are still my favorite. They taste like home.

Memories hang around in my head of Ben and I fighting over the last bowl of Kix, or the toy in the Golden Grahams box. I remember the awe of the Wheaties box, especially the ones featuring Michael Jordan. They were going to be collector's items one day, so we delicately removed the bag of cereal, and carefully pasted the tabbed top back in place. Empty Wheaties boxes collected dust on my brother's bedroom shelves for years.

Certain cereals are synonymous with members of my family. Dad always really liked Crispix. I thought Crispix were kind of boring. Grandpa ate Raisin Bran. And my Granny liked All-Bran. Bran must be a right of passage into old age.

And then there are those cereals that hold a special place in my heart...

--Frosted Mini Wheats satisfy my inner 6-year-old and 70-year-old at the same time.
--I will neither confirm, nor deny, that I used to suck the cinnamony-sugar off the little pieces of "bread" in Cinnamon Toast Crunch.
--Christmas would fail to be Christmas if there wasn't a bowl of Chex Mix lying around getting stale.
--Cookie Crisp are better eaten dry.
--Is there really such a thing as a Grape Nut? They are break-a-tooth good.
--It's worth eating the stale bits in Lucky Charms for the rainbow of marshmallows. You take the good with the bad.

So, what are your favorite cereals? Favorite sugar cereal? Favorite adult cereal? Favorite healthy cereal? Cereal that brings back memories?

Social Baptist

2010-01-13T21:01:00.000-06:00

A friend of mine shared a really funny story today, and reminded me of the wide-ranging diversity within the body of Christ. Over the Christmas holiday, she brought her new boyfriend to a Baptist church one Sunday morning. The boyfriend was raised Catholic, and is not a current church attender. It just so happened, that week was Communion Sunday. In the Catholic tradition, members approach the altar, sip wine out of a chalice, and tear off a piece of bread to eat. In the Baptist tradition, round trays of miniature capsules of grape juice are distributed, as are tiny pieces of unleavened bread.

As the trays were being passed, my friend noticed that her boyfriend had a puzzled look on his face. The service ended, and later in the day, her boyfriend questioned, "how is it that Catholics drink real wine, and Baptists don't, yet they serve the grape juice in little shot glasses? I looked around and everyone in the sanctuary is throwing one back in unison."

Anybody else sensing the irony here? Especially considering Baptists are so polarized in regard to alcohol consumption. To a casual observer, Communion Sunday at the Baptist church looks like nothing more than a bunch of frat guys on a Saturday night.

Due to the nature of my current life circumstances, I am not at liberty to commentate concerning the relationship of alcohol and Christianity. But someday, I will have things to say. Lots of things. That is all.

Eau de Granny

2010-01-12T21:52:00.001-06:00

I've got nothin' for you tonight, folks. Nothing.

My only point of inspiration (if that's what you want to call it) came while at work today. I walked past an older woman, and noticed that she smelled like, well, old woman. Why is it that when a woman turns a certain age, I guess about 60 to 65, she begins to smell like an old woman? Do they sell a perfume called "old woman"? You know the smell...powdery and cloyingly floral...and of mothballs.

Truth-be-told, I'm perplexed tonight concerning matters of the heart. I'm moving forward through my uncertainty, albeit blindly. I'm standing in the middle of a seesaw, balancing two opposite reactions carefully, desperately trying to find some middle ground. Do I merely exist with passivity, or do I go out with passion? Do I choose to wait, or do I move? Fight or flight? I just don't know.

If you can't say something nice...

2010-01-11T20:25:00.003-06:00

For book club in January, we are reading A. J. Jacobs' The Year of Living Biblically. In a nutshell, Jacobs, a self-professed Agnostic with Jewish roots, decides to follow every rule in the Bible literally for one year, in an attempt to discover why the Bible is culturally relevant. On Day 70 of his journal, Jacobs invokes Psalm 34:13, "keep your tongue from evil, and your lips from speaking lies." In his attempt to follow this passage literally, Jacobs has the following to say:

"The Bible has at least twenty passages condemning gossip. In English editions, translators use words such as slander or talebearing or unwholesome talk or evil tongue.
This means I can't join in when my coworkers discuss a certain boozy actress who scribbled obscenities on a bathroom mirror, or the rumor that a news anchor is about to ditch his wife for a younger woman...
The problem is, if you really want to be biblically safe, you should go much further. You should avoid almost all negative speech whatsoever. Here's how one of my Bible commentaries defines evil tongue: 'This refers to any derogatory or damaging statement against an individual--even when the slanderous or defaming remarks are true--which if publicized to others would cause the subject physical or monetary damage, anguish, or fear.'"

Courtney and I were sitting in her office today discussing gossip, after which, we just finished gossipping. After a brief review of Jacob's day 70 journal entry, Courtney and I decide at 1:23 p.m. to abstain from "gossip" for one day. This is not only defined by exchanging information about someone, but also by elminating any negative speak of others. We laugh, and within minutes, we fail. Do you know how hard it is to keep your tongue from evil, even when you're not deliberately gossipping? And, let's be real. A lot of people we're around on a daily basis act the fool. There's a lot of temptation afoot.

Here's how the rest of the day unfolded:

1:47 p.m. Courtney and I are working on an event, when I comment about the loveliness of the author. Courtney looks at me in disgust and says, "whattttttt?" I snap my fingers and tell her that I set her up for failure, and we laugh...because we both share the same feelings toward this author's countenance.

2:19 p.m. Courtney and I walk upstairs to the cafe, and I see a hanging image of soup over the hot bar. I ask her if I'm allowed to say "that soup looks gross." She says no, because "someone made that soup, and your comment might hurt them." We ponder over this one for a few.

2:23 p.m. We pass a co-worker on our way back downstairs and we ask his opinion on the matter. He feels as though we are allowed to criticize soup, as we are criticizing the inanimate object without reference to the person that made it. As we turn to leave, Courtney reminds him that it is guaranteed that we won't talk about him on our way back downstairs. This strikes us all as rather hilarious.

2:29 p.m. Again, we pass another co-worker. It's someone that Courtney and I both have a strong distaste for. We look at each other in silence. Courtney looks at me and says, "tough day to start this no gossip thing."

During our pledge, I realize what a failure I am at keeping up with the rules and regulations. No, seriously, I suck. And, praise the Lord that He sent His perfect, sinless Son to die for my sins, so that I may live wholly and eternally. I don't have to measure myself to a scale of deeds and misdeeds. I am saved by grace, so that I can't boast. What freedom from the shackles of legality! Now, this serves as my foundation, but with freedom comes much responsibility. It is my job as a follower of Christ to ascribe to Psalm 34:13, because the acceptance of His grace changed me.

Etsy Betsy Shopper

2010-01-10T21:45:00.002-06:00

I'm way late to the game on this one, but I have a newfound love and it's name is Etsy. A craftier verson of ebay, Etsy is a site that sells homemade goods from thousands of different sellers. I haven't actually ever purchased anything...until today.

In preparation for my trip to Paris in April, I've been looking for a stylish and lightweight messenger bag. I found hundreds on various sites, but was turned-off for several reasons. Either the bags were made of Italian leather and cost hundreds of dollars, or they were outfitted with cheap iron-on graphics, a la high school, or they were built instead to tote laptops. Alas, Etsy came through for me, and I bought this chic, handmade canvas messenger bag. It's exactly what I was looking for. I also bought a birthday present for my sister-in-law. Done and done.

My Bible study kicked off our new year tonight, and we met at my house for some grub cooked by yours truly. I made cornflake chicken, roasted roma tomatoes, creamed cauliflower (a.k.a. fauxtatoes), and Siebe manned the sauteed green beans. For dessert, I made a spiced pear pie, and it was delicious. I so enjoyed all of the food prep and cooking, and still plan to make it my full time job someday. Someday.

Saturday by Numbers

2010-01-09T20:53:00.001-06:00

2 hours slept-in
200 calories burned waxing the hardwoods
1 boxed-up Christmas tree
119 degrees inside my steamy shower
19 degrees outside my front door
Billions of snowflakes and flurries
11 minutes waiting in line at the grocery store
3 trips to my car to retrieve groceries
14 frozen containers of homemade chili
6 peeled pears
1/2 cup of brown sugar
1 pie
2 loads of laundry
3 movies
3 lazy roommates
11 p.m lights out

Bad Date, Good Company

2010-01-08T22:56:00.001-06:00

When my roommates and I made plans today to see a movie after our already planned dinner outing, I knew it was going to be fun to write about afterward. However, I didn't count on a below average meal and a subpar chick-flick.

Since Wendi moved in, the four of us haven't been around to hang out collectively. We tried during the holidays, but sychronizing our calendars failed. So, our meal out tonight was to officially celebrate the new Fox on Knox.

We've been wanting to try Whiskey Kitchen, a restaurant just off the Gulch that opened in early Fall. WK sits in the same location as the now defunct, Agave Tequila Lounge. And, it's definitely a step-up in regard to decor and ambience. Think dark, woodsy, masculine. Just how I like my men. I digress...

Anyway, we were seated at a four-top cafe table, and perused the menu for winning entrees. Despite throwing around a few phrases including "truffle oil" and "fire-roasted," the menu was comprised mainly of glorified bar food. Hamburgers. Chicken Sliders. French Fries. Fish-n-Chips. Wraps. You know the drill. Wendi and I ordered burgers, Amy a veggie wrap, and Arica fish-n-chips. My burger was good, but not any more special than a burger I've eaten elsewhere. And Amy's veggie wrap was a sorry sight for eyes...and soggy, at that. Arica had the clear winner, but can you keep a restaurant open on one entree?

The service was less than stellar, too, but by this point, my expectations were rather low. The only redemptive factor to our experience was our time spent hypothesizing as to why the odd couple at the booth adjacent to our table were fighting. Not that four single girls take delight in that kind of thing...

After leaving, never to return, we hopped over to Green Hills to see Leap Year at the theater. The last time I was at this Regal, I took a dive into a pool of butter. I won't lie and say that the threat of an encore didn't haunt me, especially as I was wearing the same pair of heeled boots. My steps were deliberate this time.

I settled back into the seat, enjoying the previews, and anticipating a good ol' fashioned sappy and predictable chick flick. Well, it was sappy and predictable...and pretty all-around terrible. There were holes all through the plot line, and the dialogue was atrocious. And, I have to wonder if Hollywood is running out of unique scenarios for romantic comedies. How many movies have you seen in the last year where a couple pretends to be married as to create advantage amidst their current plight? Too many.

I left the theater disappointed. I paid ten bucks for the good stuff, and all I got was lousy street crack.

Punk'd

2010-01-07T20:48:00.002-06:00

About 1:45 this afternoon, my co-workers and I were sitting quietly at our desks working, when Big Brother came over the loudspeaker to make an announcement. Due to the inclement weather, we were being sent home at 3 p.m. A chorus of yelps were heard throughout the marketing and merchandising department, including my own. I think I lifted my hands in the air and said "testify!"

Three minutes later, an email rolled into my inbox. It was a meeting invite to Matt and I from my boss. The meeting titled, "budget revisions," was set for 3:30 p.m., thirty whole minutes after LifeWay goes on lock-down. I hollered over my cube at Matt, and told him to check his email. What the heck?

He walked over slowly, and looked just as dumbfounded as I did. We said things like, "can you believe this?" and "why would he do this," and "is this a mistake, and "a meeting of this nature could last hours." About that time, Nathan walked past and I yanked him into my office. Swiveling my computer screen around, I exclaimed, "you've got to see this!" Nathan, of course, laughed. He thought it was hilarious that I was so happy to get a teensy bit of a snow day, only to have it yanked out from beneath my feet.

I picked up the phone and ordered Courtney over. She saw it and gasped. How could this be??? Courtney said, "surely not. He was probably in the bathroom or something when the announcement was made."

I looked up at Matt with desperation and said, "what are we going to do???" He said, "let's go talk to him. C'mon." As I stood up from my chair, I glanced at Courtney and said, "oh, we can't! He clearly wants us to stay." "You're right," she commented. "You don't want him to think you aren't committed."

"Well, at least give him a call and ask him what this is about," Matt said.

I picked up the phone, and dialed my boss' number. "So," I said casually. "Tell me about this budget revision meeting this afternoon."

My boss laughed and said, "April fools." Puzzled, I looked up as Courtney and Matt are rolling on the floor with laughter. I'm confused....were you two in on it? About that time, Nathan waltzes by laughing, and I walk over to my boss to demand an answer. He's already outside his office doubled-over in laughter. Courtney and Matt tell him that they almost got me to go over to his office like the Spanish inquisition.

I've been going on and on about the weather all week long, so they thought they'd pull a fast one on me. Well, it worked, and it was hilarious. But it's on. They don't know who they're messing with.

Courtney and I are probably even. After our big interoffice Thanksgiving lunch, I placed all of the leftover rolls in Courtney's desk drawers. She didn't find them until about a week later...and I heard her scream down the way when she finally did. By that time, they were crumbly and hard as a rock.

Matt and I are definitely even. I've tormented him since day one. See here.

I have an understanding with Nathan. It's called, don't mess with him and he won't mess with you. Unless you count the time that I jammed Twizzlers into his phone cradle or hid his chicken biscuit...

And my boss? He gets a "Get out of Jail FREE" card." Why? Because he's my boss.

God of the Airmass, God of the Orphans

2010-01-06T20:20:00.003-06:00

Courtney and I were dining at our favorite Mexican joint today for lunch, and yakked of the cold weather that's blanketed our fine state. With a pitiful look in her eyes, Courtney says to me, "Do you know who I feel really sorry for when it gets so cold out?" Sympathetically, I nodded. I knew exactly who she was going to say. As I opened my mouth and stated "the homeless," Courtney simultaneously said, "my dog." We both sat there a minute and burst out laughing. Sweet Courtney. I love her, and her little dog too.

Speaking of the weather, I think I have a problem. I am to embarrassed to admit how many times I refreshed weather.com today in my browser window. By noon, I'd almost given up hope of a work-cancelling snow day tomorrow. But then something miraculous happened. My browser refreshed, and a new alert appeared:

... SNOW WILL ACCOMPANY ARCTIC BLAST... A REINFORCING ARCTIC AIRMASS IS DIVING DOWN THROUGH THE NORTHERN PLAINS WITH TEMPERATURES IN THE SINGLE DIGITS ACROSS THE DAKOTAS AT EARLY AFTERNOON. THE LEADING EDGE OF THE ARCTIC AIRMASS WILL MOVE DOWN INTO WESTERN MISSOURI THIS EVENING AND INTO FAR WESTERN TENNESSEE AROUND DAYBREAK THURSDAY. SNOW IS ALREADY FALLING IN ADVANCE OF THIS SYSTEM WHICH WILL MOVE INTO WESTERN MIDDLE TENNESSEE JUST BEFORE DAYBREAK AND THEN ADVANCE EASTWARD DURING THE MORNING... AND CONTINUE INTO THE AFTERNOON... BEFORE TAPERING FROM THE WEST. THE LEADING EDGE OF THE ARCTIC AIRMASS IS EXPECTED TO PASS THROUGH NASHVILLE DURING THE EARLY AFTERNOON ON THURSDAY WITH WINDS SHIFTING TO THE WEST AND BECOMING GUSTY. THE LEADING EDGE OF THE ARCTIC AIR MASS IS EXPECTED TO REACH THE PLATEAU BY 5 PM CST. SNOW AMOUNTS ARE EXPECTED TO RANGE FROM 1 TO 3 INCHES.

This so-called "arctic airmass" could be the insurance I need for a day off work. I quickly alerted Nathan and Courtney to my discovery, and was met with skepticism. Nathan wondered, "what is an arctic airmass anyway?" Well, Nathan, an airmass is a large volume of air defined by its temperature and water vapor content. Arctic is an adjective describing the thermal characteristics of the airmass, classifying by its source region. Hence, Antarctica.

Weather.com, you speaketh love poetry to my soul.

After work today, I drove to the UPS store to mail a package to an orphanage in Moldova. I sponsor two Moldovan orphans through Children's Emergency Relief International. I began sponsoring kids with CERI in 2005, when the Nashville-based partner organization, Sweet Sleep, began building beds for children in orphanages. Through Sweet Sleep, I was able to buy my two girls, Ana and Angela, wooden bed frames, mattresses and bedding. CERI allowed me to correspond with the girls through letters, providing a Romanian translator, and also allowed me to send clothing and gifts to the girls. About a year ago, my first two girls were removed from the orphanage and placed in a permanent home with a family. I was so joyous to see the system at work! Moldova is the poorest country in Europe and contributes heavily to sex trafficking. Victory for two girls!

Soon after, I was assigned two new girls, Veronica and Marina. Aren't they lovely? They're holding the clothing and toys I sent them for Christmas last year.

Last year, I was able to send the box of goods to CERI in Texas, and a mission team took the items over and delivered them to the girls in person. CERI set me up to do this again in right before Christmas, but at the last minute, they ran out of room in their suitcases. So, I need to ship the box of goods myself.

Now, back to today. I arrived at the UPS store and lugged in the 13 pound box. I filled out all of the customs forms, itemizing every piece of clothing and toy in the box. The UPS employee measured my box, punched the numbers into the computer, and then formed a frown on her face. She looked up at me, grimaced further, and said, "I've got bad news." In my mind, bad news was anything near $75 for shipping. I anticipated a $40 tab, but would've bit the bullet and paid the $75 anyway. I braced myself for the worst, and it got worse. "To ship UPS to Moldova, it's going to be $511," she said. My mouth hit the UPS counter, a la Roger Rabbit. She continued, "Or, we could make arrangements to send it USPS and that will cost $178." I shook my head in disbelief. After a minute or two of subdued panic, I thanked her for her help and walked out the door with the box in my arms.

I'm going to get in touch with CERI and Sweet Sleep tomorrow to see if there's some way I can get the items packed for a team trip. But mostly, I'm going to pray. I know God wants two Moldovan girls to have warm sweaters, new jeans, clean socks, school supplies, and even a few toys this winter. I don't know how He will work it out, but I know that God takes care of the birds...so he'll certainly take care of Veronica and Marina. Please join me in praying for His sovereign solution.

Snow Day To-Do List

2010-01-05T21:15:00.007-06:00

Take heart, citizens of Middle Tennessee. Meteorologist Mary Anna Brown is monitoring the weather minute-by-minute, anticipating the snow "event" headed our way. The following paragraph, straigh from weather.com, is sweet music to my ears:

MAIN IMPACT... 2 TO 4 INCHES OF SNOW ACCUMULATION... FOLLOWED BY BLOWING AND DRIFTING SNOW. THE SNOWFALL WILL STICK TO ROAD SURFACES WITH NO MELTING... AND STRONG NORTHWEST WINDS WILL CAUSE A PERIOD OF BLOWING AND DRIFTING SNOW. THIS WILL CAUSE TRAVEL PROBLEMS OR DELAYS ACROSS THE MID STATE.

Considering the last time my employer shut down due to inclement weather was in 2002, I'd say it's a long shot that we'll be closed on Thursday. But I'm wishin,' and hopin,' and thinkin,' and prayin'. I'm plannin.' That's right, I'm plannin.' Here's my snow day to-do list:

--Sleep until I wake up (which is, unfortunately, not what it was when I was 12).

--Romp around in the snowy yard in my pajamas (because I'm not getting out of them) and Kroger sacks over my slippers. Please refer to the snow that visited our home in March of 2008 (photographic evidence below).

--Remove the ornaments from my pre-lit Christmas tree, and then throw the tree in the garbage (as the entire upper-half of the tree failed to light up this year).

--Pluck my eyebrow. Yep, two have become one. Divorce proceedings are in order.

--Clean the crystal chandelier in my bedroom. I've noticed the three inches of dust for months, but I've been too lazy to get out the step-ladder.

--Survive on leftover Christmas Chex mix, because it's the only thing I have left in the pantry that's edible. And I'm not as prepared as the other Tennessean's who went to the grocery for snow rations.

--Take a nap, as I "slept in" until 6:30 a.m.

--Lament to my roommates that I don't have a boy who will roll around with me in the snow.

--Watch a Full House marathon on ABC Family and tear-up when DJ and Steve break-up.

--Look at my matted, greasy hair in the mirror, and decide to brush my teeth instead of showering.

What is on your snow day to-do list?

The ol' ball-and-chain

2010-01-04T21:27:00.001-06:00

I've finally put my finger on why my blogging of 2009 stalled. It's called, my j-o-b. I spent eight precious hours at work today doing someone else's bidding, when I could've been frolicking all over the world enjoying life. And, creating memories and interesting experiences to blog about.

I don't hate my job. I even like my job. And, sure, my job puts a roof over my head, clothes on my back, and food on my plate (and a lot more). I'm so, so, so thankful for that. However, if I'm not living life to my full potential because of this eight hour ball-and-chain, is it really worth it?

Herein lies the issue. It's getting late and I don't have anything to blog about. And this is day one of being back at work. I've got 19 workdays left in January. It's going to be a long month. Thanks for sticking with me.

They Were Lovely Because He Loved Them.

2010-01-03T22:07:00.001-06:00

On my way to church this morning, the Jonny Diaz "More Beautiful You" song came on the radio. It wasn't the first time I'd heard this song, but I cranked it up loud, as I knew the Lord wanted me to absorb it's words.

It's the New Year. No one, and I mean no one, I know doesn't have some sort of resolution regarding their personal health, including myself. Lose weight. Work-out more. Eat better. Get more sleep. Take vitamins. This goal intensifies dramatically among my girlfriends. Especially my single girlfriends. Why is that? Because we want husbands, and we believe that if we can just somehow change ourselves, then we will finally be wanted.

I'm in a really good place right now, but I won't lie and say that I don't deal with my own demons in this area. I've bought into the lie that my own betterment is the key to snagging a guy...even though I am secure in Christ's love for me. I constantly worry about being rejected, unloved and alone. How I can teeter back and forth on God's Promise to me? I just don't know.

As if Mom has a sixth-sense for these things, I got an email from her today. The subject line said "you" and inside she told me she saw some recent pictures of me on Facebook and that she thought I was "soooooooooo pretty." Thanks, Mom. Thank you for understanding that your daughter needs to be told these kinds of things by her Mother. Thank you for teaching me to say these things to my own daughter one day, as I know she will struggle with being good enough too.

Arica shared a passage with the roommates yesterday from The Jesus Storybook Bible by Sally Lloyd-Jones. The JSB is an illustrated book of Bible Stories for children, but it's written in contemporary language, like a Message Bible. She opened to the Creation story, and read to us the following passage:

So God breathed life into Adam and Eve.

When they opened their eyes, the first thing they ever saw was God's face. He whispered their names to them and taught them who they were.

And when God saw them he was like a new dad. "You look like me," he said. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever made!"

God loved them with all of His heart. And they were lovely because He loved them.

And Adam and Even joined in the Song of the stars and the streams and the wind in the trees, the wonderful Song of love to the one who made them. Their hearts were filled with happiness. And nothing ever made them sad or lonely or sick or afraid.

God looked at everything He had made. "Perfect!" He said. And it was.

But all the stars and the mountains and the oceans and galaxies and everything were nothing compared to how much God loved His children. He would move Heaven and Earth to be near them. Always. Whatever happened, whatever it cost Him, He would always love them.

And so it was that the wonderful love story began...

How beautiful is that?! And how true! Think how our culture would change if we women embraced God's love for us, and we started telling the other women in our lives how much they are also loved for just how they were created!

Post-Christmas Cheer

2010-01-02T21:26:00.005-06:00

Christmas came again today for the Foxes on Knox. We gathered together this afternoon and opened our stockings together. Filling my stocking is a tradition I began back in 2004 when I moved into my first post-collegiate apartment in Cool Springs. I was living alone at the time, and I came back to an empty apartment after being home with family over Christmas. It was depressing. So, the next Christmas, I filled my stocking and wrapped presents for myself, all before I left for home. When I returned after the holidays were over, I had a second Christmas to cheer myself up. I feel that if you are single around the holidays, you need a little extra love in your life, and if that comes through the personification of Santa, then so be it.

Emily's last full day in Nashville was today, and we celebrated her one last time this morning with a pancake breakfast. Emily's old boss asked us to gather around Em and lift her up in prayer, and he referred to us as her "spiritual sisters." We're a good lookin' bunch of girls, eh? Can you believe we're all single? I know, right?

This evening, Arica, Kaylan and Bethany initiated me into the Chuy's cult for dinner. Chuy's is a Texas-based Tex-Mex chain that has arrived infamously to Cool Springs. We got there early, so our wait was only an hour-and-fifteen. The floodgates opened after we arrived, and the wait slowly crept to two-and-a-half hours for those latecomers. The chips and pico were superb, and I had some yummy baja tacos. Not so sure about all of those crazy Texans, though...

I'm tuckered into bed right now, Uma's zhuzhing happily, and I've got a book date with Salt. Aren't you jealous of my single gal rock star lifestyle? I would have a hot mug of tea in my hand, but our electric tea kettle died today. We're going to have a memorial service for it tomorrow if you'd like to attend.

1000 Pieces to my Utopia

2010-01-01T22:39:00.007-06:00

Here it is almost eleven p.m. and I'm dangling precipitiously on the edge of the first day of the year, a.k.a. the first day of my NaBloPoMo. I better be careful not to fail before I even start. Fair enough, I've been working on a 1000 piece puzzle that my roommates broke out of the box yesterday. I only invested, oh, about five hours on it today. Several hundred tiny pieces of foliage? No match for this puzzle sleuth.

As I worked this gorgeous puzzle today, I couldn't help but wish I was the little old woman inside the brightly lit, warm home, with the little old man sitting beside her. The tiny sign inside hung over their heads proclaimed "God Bless." There is a chimney for roaring fires in the wintertime, and a hammock for naps in the spring. There is a golden retriever on the front porch, a lazy cat, and plenty of woodland creatures, including a five-point buck peeping carefully out from the tree line. I imagine there is probably a big grille out back for hamburgers. And, two adirondack chairs, side-by-side on the front lawn, perfect for gazing at the flowers, or the reflection of the mountains on the lake. This is my utopia, and I dearly hope one day I arrive.

So, as it is the first day of the year, resolutions, or goals, or whatever you want to call them, are in order. In 2010, I would like to:

a) add a new knitting stitch to my arsenal;
b) blog more often (duh);
c) learn a working knowledge of French;
d) read and inductively study the book of Isaiah (I began this about three weeks ago);
e) grow and gain discipline in my prayer life.

Also, in conjunction with Pete, I will be reading through the 31 chapters of Proverbs on a daily basis in January. Set Free Church on Skid Row reads through Proverbs each month, and this exercise is reminiscent for me of my time studying the Bible with the homeless in L.A. I will share some of my Proverbial insights this month, and I challenge you to jump on the bandwagon with me.

Lastly, I will refer to my January 1, 2008 post (which borrowed from my January 2, 2007 post) regarding the year ahead:

Discover and manifest the woman God created me, on a physical, emotional, and spiritual level.

This is not simply a resolution for 2010, but a statement for how I will live my life...to infinity and beyond!

Last Call

2009-12-31T15:04:00.002-06:00

As I anticipate the changing of the guard, I reflect on the year 2009. It didn't start off so well, but reading back through my past blog posts, I realize it wasn't so bad afterall.

364 days ago, I was at a car dealership, making the largest purchase of my adult life so far. Some of you might remember how ugly this experience was for me, but I'm happy to say that Rick James and I are doing just fine.

In January, my Bible study and I began to learn how to study the God's Word using Jen Hatmaker's Modern Girls Guide to Bible Study. It wasn't a short process, but it sure did teach us how not to be intimidated by the ultimate collection of 66 books. Our hands were held through James and 1 & 2 Peter, and then we were on our own in John. I experienced more of the Bible (thus the Holy Spirit) in 2009 than any other time in my life. And I saw my girls begin to thirst for God's Word, some of them for the first time.

Mom and I took a trip to Park City, Utah in early February and I saw more snow than my eyes have ever feasted. I've seen a lot of positive change in my relationship with my Mom this year. I think we're both learning to have a mother-daughter relationship as two adults. I write this with tears of joy in my eyes, as Mom is my dearest best friend and I've loved watching our understanding of each other grow in 2009.

Nearing the end of February, I got on Yaz, and made one of the best decisions I've made all year long. Who knew that a pill a day could keep the horomones at bay?! Seriously, I'm a different person now than I was in February, now that everything is peachy with my body chemistry. Mom and I were reflecting on this the other night, and she confirmed my suspicions: she's also noticed I've been much happier since Yaz's inception into my body. If you need further proof, Em made the comment at Miel the other night that she's noticed I've been much more content this year than ever.

Like a spring chicken, I abandoned my brunette locks in March and went back to my natural blonde. While brunette served me well, I never truly felt like myself. Blonde is who I am, and whom I shall remain.

My birthday was on Easter Sunday this year, and I was honored to share my day with the anniversary of my Savior's resurrection. To celebrate my 28th birthday this year, my friends and I packed 28 care packages for the homeless and delivered them on the streets of Nashville. That my sweet friends would care enough about me to give of their goods and sacrifice their time meant so much to me.

In late April, I saw Ben Folds in concert at the Ryman, sans friends or a date. I went solo. And it was not only an enjoyable night of music, but a liberating experience for my independent psyche.

On April 30, my sinuses underwent a major transformation and re-routing of sorts. I woke up fitfully from surgery with the most pain I've felt in my entire life. But, the pain was worth the gain, as my chronic sinus headaches have disappeared completely.

I don't remember if May brought flowers, but it did bring an opportunity to further my education...my vino education, specifically. I enrolled in a Wine 101 class at Fido, and for six weeks, drank some fabulous wine, and ate a lot of good food (compliments of one of the best Chefs in town, John Stephenson).

In June (more specifically, June 16), I made a decision to purge some toxicity from my life permanently. I wrote down the date in Sharpie on Post-it's and tacked it all over my room and bathroom. I want to remember that date forever, as the date I officially decided to let the Lord be "my Shepherd" (Psalm 23). Nothing can seperate me from the LOVE of Christ, as I am my Lord's and He is mine.

Also in June, I got over my pride and made a decision that opened numerous doors for me in my personal life. During the process, I met someone in July that might potentially stick. We'll see what 2010 holds for this relationship.

In July, I traveled to the West coast to love on the homeless and the rejected. I found out fast that they had more love for me than I could ever begin to give them. The lessons I learned about poverty and hope on this trip will be passed on to my children, grand-children, and maybe even my great-grand-children. My life will never be what it was before Skid Row.

August was a slow month, but a stressful time at work. Steph and I stretched out our weekend sun time well beyond the other regulars, and I spent some precious time with my dear friend poolside.

In September, I met my Merea, Danielle, the girl I am mentoring at the Christian Women's Job Corps. While not without its frustrations, this relationship is one of the most important I invested in during 2009, and will so for the future.

October held a trip to the beach with Mom, Dad, and my parent's third child, Stella the Puppa. As I get older, I realize how precious this undivided time is with my parents, and I don't want to take advantage of one minute.

On Halloween, I traveled to Lynchburg with several other fabulous singletons. The eight of us ate lunch at Miss Mary Bobo's and then toured the Jack Daniel's Distillery. It was a quintessential Tennessee experience.

November yielded the most glorious, spectacular display of autumn leaves in my memory, and accompanied a trip down the Natchez Trace with Siebe and Aubree. My pool time caught up with me in November, as my dermatologist pointed out some pre-cancerous keratosis, and cautioned my sun worship. 2009 may have marked the end of my weekends at the pool.

December was a blur, of course. In addition to the multitude of Christmas gatherings and parties, I began to say au revoir to my dear friend, Emily, as she journeys to Paris in a few days. I was witness to a beautiful presentation of Christ's coming at Andrew Peterson's Behold the Lamb. And I heard Rob Bell wax philosophy-times-Jesus.

I read a lot of really great books this year: Pillars of the Earth, Infidel, Middlesex, Wild at Heart, The Help, and The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society.

Closing out my 2009, I celebrated a delightful Christmas break with my family. Dad built me a roaring fire everyday, and I spent some nice quality time with my parents. It was also good to see my brother and sis-in-law, even if it was blink-and-you-miss-it. Mom and Dad both cooked some amazing food this year. Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without cheese grits. And the Wii certainly was the source of a lot of laughter and trash talk. I'll never forget the sight of my Mom boxing, nor of her hula hoop skills.

Tommorrow begins NaBloPoMo. I'm up for the challenge, but I do feel the pressure. This reflection on my blog posts of 2009 helps me remember why I write: for me, not for you. But nonetheless, I do appreciate your support and encouragement. See you in 2010!

May 28, 2010

2009-12-23T14:50:00.004-06:00

Local Honey

2009-12-21T12:10:00.003-06:00

'Tis the season for tradition, and so Emily, Amy, Arica and I dined together last Wednesday night to celebrate the end of our united homefront, as Emily moves to Paris in January. Our choice of the Sylvan Park French restaurant, Miel, was apropos. Located across from Bobbie's Dairy Dip, Miel is a hidden gem tucked on a quiet side street off Charlotte Avenue.

From the moment we entered, we were treated like royalty, and all our needs were promptly met. The four of us were seated at a tight, yet cozy table, and while most of the tables in the room filled quickly, it didn't detract from the warm atmosphere.

To our delight, the food prepared at Miel is all organic, originating from locally owned farms and artisan growers. As soon as we were settled, the waiter delivered four tiny saucers of duck confit with fig on a fluffy pastry tart. It was just one savory bite, but enough to wet the appetite. Soon after, fresh, out-of-the-oven baguette rounds arrived at our table.

It took us a little while to order, considering everything on the menu looked mouth-watering. That, and there was only one venison entree left in the building, meaning Amy and I fought over it...and she gracefully conceded. My entree of choice was the Free Range Axis Venison accompanied by truffled spaetzle over pureed cauliflower and carmelized brussel sprouts in a citrus glace. Amy had a Parisian Sweet Potato Gnocchi, Emily a tender Osso Buco, and Arica a Grilled Flank Steak. My venison was a tad bit rare...okay, it was practically blue in the middle. Emily took one look at it and said, "your venison is mooing." I said, "no, it's snorting. Deer don't moo." I still ate it though, and it was delicious.

The four of us were stuffed, but stopped to make room for dessert. I had a non-traditional creme brulee, as it was served in a molded sugar cup, and was more the consistency of thick pudding than a light creme. Still tasty though.

Miel translates from French to "honey" in English, and for our closing experience, the waiter delivered four tiny spoons with a dollop of honey and a dot of pollen from a locally owned bee farm. Our evening rounded out with good, affirming conversation, and bittersweet closure as Em departs soon.

An Al-Qaeda Christmas

2009-12-01T21:58:00.001-06:00

Sunday afternoon, I was sitting in the living room downstairs and I glanced up at the mantle. My roommate Arica set out the Willow Tree Nativity set over the weekend. My eyes wandered to the wise men, and I did a double-take. Evidently, Osama Bin Laden has killed off one of the wise men, and is dangerously close now to the Baby Jesus. This is soooooo not funny, but I laughed my head off anyway. I have a sick sense of humor, folks. Sick.

You too can be a Meteorologist!

2009-11-29T19:13:00.000-06:00

It's not a secret to my friends and family that I am weather-obsessed. If you'd like historical evidence, click here. Weather.com is perma-tabbed on Mozilla, and I check it in regular intervals throughout the day. I need to know any fluctuations in temperature, even if it's just a couple of degrees. A few degrees might mean the difference between a scarf and a parka and as a former Girl Scout, I shall always be prepared.

One reason I love rain so much is because I enjoy tracking its approach into Nashville. The squall lines normally roll in from the West. If I zoom down to street level on the radar map, I can almost predict to the minute when I'll hear the drops pummeling the roof over my head. And you don't want to know what happens if there's a snow prediction or a tornado warning. Tennessee weather can be volatile, and that's just the way I like it.

My weather addiction gets worse when I travel. Weeks out from my trip, I begin to monitor my destination's weather patterns, as I plan what I will pack. In February when Mom and I visited Park City, the planets aligned to combine travel and snow. Remember this?

Recently, after enduring a bad week at work, I considered quitting my job and enrolling in meteorology school. When I realized a meterologist's educational foundation is built upon mathematics, physics and chemistry, I gave that dream up fast. Mom, do you remember my semester of high school chemistry? *shudder*

And now, to my point: Today, I opened my email and began deleting spam messages. But, one subject line caught my eye: "Unique Gifts from the Weather Experts." Oooooooh. Tell me more!

The email arrived from WindandWeather.com and features eight varieties of "weather stations," digital panels that inform of current weather conditions, predict future weather patterns, and alert of warnings and emergencies. They even calculate barometric pressure and indoor/outdoor humidity levels. One even features the current moon phase! And, they're gorgeous, complete with stainless steel and wood-tone accents. The Wind&Weather people got to me with marketing phrases like, "be smarter than your local weatherman," and "analyze data and details like a meteorologist." What can I say? I'm an easy sell.

I was so excited, I hiccupped a rain cloud. I'd made up my mind to ask Santa (a.k.a. myself) for a weather station for Christmas. It would be perfect on my nightstand, right next to the Holy Bible. But, alas, I'm now suffering from sticker shock, as most of these beauties cost upward of $100, and some are even closer to $1000. That doesn't exactly jive with my single-gal income, nor does it jive with my desire to spend my money on worthier pursuits, like feeding children in Africa. Guess I'll stick with the internets...

Get off my back, already!

2009-11-24T10:40:00.004-06:00

Hello, my name is Slacker. I used to update my blog weekly, if not daily. Evidently, I now only update monthly. This needs to change. Natalie is currently participating in the NaBloPoMo challenge, where you post everyday for one month. I can't commit to this in December, but it will be one of my January resolutions.

So, what's happened in the last month and six days? Not much. Lie!

In late October, myself and eight other singletons took a field trip to the little town of Lynchburg, Tennessee for a Southern meal at Miss Mary Bobo's, and a tour of the Jack Daniel's Distillery. The weather was chilly and crisp, and we were rewarded with a colorful display of fall foliage along I-24 and 231. For months, I'd heard Amy wax on about Miss Mary Bobo's and her delicacies, but I'm not sure I really understood just how good. She didn't exaggerate when she obsessed about the macaroni-n-cheese. It was heavenly. And most of the other plates and bowls of food served by Bobo were laced with Gentleman Jack, like the baked apples. Yummy. Over our whiskey-iced carrot cake for dessert, we speculated on just how "well" Jack and Mary knew each other.

After lunch, we ventured over to the Jack Daniel's Distillery to take the walking tour. The large museum lobby was beautifully arranged with educational displays and mini-exhibits. It was at that time that we realized that Jack was a wee little man of all of about five feet tall. He seemed to command the respect of his employees and business partners though, and he was quite a ladies' man (a Napoleon complex, I presume). The hour-long walking tour was both informative and fun. We visited the Rickyard, the Cave Spring, Jack's office, the Copper Stills. The sour mash vats looked like vomit, but smelled intoxicating. Our tour guide let us "huff" the whiskey as it was mellowing through charcoal, and you got a contact high from the scent. Our last stop was the Barrel House, where we saw hundreds of barrels of aging whiskey. It was a good day to be a Tennessean.

The following weekend, Siebe, Aubree and I packed a picnic lunch and traveled down 70S to the end (the end is the beginning is the end) of the Natchez Trace Parkway for a little scenic tour of the fall foliage. After harrassing some wild turkeys, we unpacked a picnic and lazed in the sunshine for a little while. After a short hike, we headed home.

Two weeks ago, Mom and I took the early train to Chattanooga so I could tape a gift guide television segment for work. Mom was along for the ride to make me giggle, but she tells everyone that she's on-board to do my hair and makeup. This has become an annual trip for us, and I love the undivided time I get with her on Tennessee's open roads. It's worth her complaints about my driving (insert obligatory Philadelphia "Scotttttttttt" joke here).

Last week, my roommates and I re-signed our lease, and effectively bought ourselves another year of singleness. Actually, the lease runs through February of 2011, so maybe a little bit more than a year. I'm not so sure about the singleness part (I will neither confirm nor deny), but I'm excited to ring in a new year with three fabulous roommates.

On that note, I'm losing one roommate this weekend, and gaining another. Emily is moving to Paris in January, and while I am oh-so-sad to lose her to La Ville-Lumiere, I am insanely jealous of the amazing time I know she will have. Oh, and did I mention that I've already booked my flight to Paris for April?! And, my new roommate, Wendi, will be fabulous, I'm sure.

Sunday afternoon, I went to the Green Hills Regal to see New Moon. I'm officially a wolfpack supporter now, thankyouverymuch Jacob Black. And wow, were there a lof of pre-pubescent teenage girls squealing in the theater everytime he would take his shirt off. Don't tell anyone, but I was squealing on the inside, too.

As we were getting up to leave, Siebe noticed that someone sitting behind her spilled a giant tub of buttered popcorn at our feet. There were pools of butter five seats wide. We were very careful not to slip in the greasy mess as we were exiting our row, and I thought I was home free as I took the steps down to the bottom of the movie theater. All's well until I hit the tile floor at the bottom, and London Bridge came falling down. It's not everyday that one can say, "I fell in a puddle of butter."

Speaking of grease, I have an update on my cleansing oil routine. Last time I left you, the Kiehls product was up to bat. But, I benched that product fast. The oil was so thick that it was like smearing vaseline on my face and then trying to wash it off with water. It never emulsified, so it just sat on my face. I have a rather large sample of the L'occitane product, and I'm using it now, but I don't think it's going to be a keeper. It breaks through the make-up well enough, but it burns the fire out of my eyes. That's a problem. I went to Cosmetic Market yesterday to try and get some samples of the Shu Uemura oil-cleansing product line, but they all contain mineral oil. What gives? Still working on trying to get a Bobbi Brown sample, and finding a few more brands that might be worth a try. At this point, the Origins product is probably going to win out, but geez, I hate the packaging! Why couldn't they have bottled it in pump form?

Sunday evening, I was reminded that my little transitional neighborhood is still undergoing transition. During Bible Study, Mandy and Stephanie's cars were both broken into. Surprisingly, none of their electronics or valuables were stolen, but their personal items were littered around my block. As we swept up glass off the concrete and taped up their windows with garbage bags, we couldn't help but be thankful that they both were safe and their stuff was intact. But don't ask me my thoughts on the Metro-Davidson Police Department. The 862-8600 number? It's a sham.

I'm headed home Wednesday for Thanksgiving. I'll travel with the fam to Jackson, Tennessee on Thursday to visit Mom's side of the family, and then Ben and Britt are going to hit town on Friday. I think we've got family plans to go see the The Blind Side Friday night. So excited about that. Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I'm thankful for you!

Who said I didn't have anything to blog about?

Sunday Evening Musing

2009-10-18T20:51:00.001-05:00

The first frost of the season arrived last night and was waiting for me on my windshield this morning when I left for church. I've been counting the trees along the OHB corridor of I-65 as their leaves change. This morning, the number went up significantly.

This afternoon was the Menagerie's annual Family Day at Barfield Cresent Park in Murfreesboro. I've known these girls for ten years, and remember when they were all dating their husbands and having their babies. I'm so humbled at how our love for each other continues to grow despite how different all of our lives are. And I don't know that my sweet friends realize how much I love their husbands and their babies too. I won't lie...I envy (albeit affectionately) their life stage, as I continue along in my singleness. But, it's hard to be bitter when I get to share my Capri Sun with my best friend's 2-year old daughter...especially when she grins at me and says, "mmmmmmmmmm."

Twice today, I had to drive past a sign that marks my past. Twice, I was reminded of how God has redeemed, freed, and transformed me!

I've used up my Boscia sample completely, and I'm not exactly taken. The product delivered on the cleansing, but it contains some kind of menthol ingredient that makes my eyes red. I've moved to the Origins product now. It smells a little like patchouli, which I dont mind, but I miss the citrus scent of the Lancome product. I tried to get a sample of the Bobbi Brown Cleansing Oil at the Belk counter last Thursday, but they were out of sample jars. At some point, anyway.

The past week was such a relaxing vacation. Seriously, I haven't thought about work at all, and even kind of forgot it existed. Here's why:

Oxymoron

2009-10-08T09:32:00.005-05:00

For years, if you tried to convince me that rubbing oil on my face was a good way to rid my face of oil, I would've shut you down. Until now.

Throughout my teen years and into adulthood, I've had excessively oily skin. My bangs (when I had bangs) would stick to my forehead by the end of the day, and I would battle against new crops of acne on a weekly basis. I've purchased just about every product on the market heavily laden with salicylic acid, benzoyl peroxide, and sodium laureth sulfate, only to be met with irritation and flaky dryness in spots...but the zits continued. My skin is oily, yet sensitive, and now, as I've hit 28, it's begun to dry itself out naturally. And with that, the fine lines have started to appear. In addition, since I've been on Yaz since January for my hormonal breakouts, I've noticed a huge difference in my skin's oil production.

So, my cleansing routine involving all of those harsh ingredients is a thing of the past. But it's been a battle to determine what works for my changing skin. Foaming cleansers are too drying. Cleansing creams don't seem to break down the makeup enough. What's a girl to do?

I read recently that a cleansing oil is beneficial for melting makeup and dirt without stripping your face of moisture. Desperate for a fix for my growing patches of dry skin, I've been on a quest to find a natural oil-based cleanser. After some research, I've composed a list of products I'd like to try.

I went to Sephora last night to stock up on my Bare Escentuals foundation, and while I was at Green Hills Mall, I got samples of the following products:

Lancome Huile Doucher Remove-All Deep Cleansing Oil

Boscia MakeUp-BreakUp Cool Cleansing Oil

Origins Clean Energy Gentle Cleansing Oil

Kiehls Oil-Based Cleanser and Make-up Remover

L'Occitane Almond Apple Cleansing Oil

I've got about ten more oil cleansing products that are on my list to try. I haven't been able to find them in retail, which means I can't get samples. I'm working on this.

Last night, I used the sample of the Lancome product to wash my face. I was instructed to pour about a teaspoon of oil into my palm, and massage into my face and onto my eyes. Then, I wet my fingers, and continued to massage the product into my skin. When emulsified by water, the product becomes like a cleansing milk, and then rinses away. I was shocked at how well it removed my makeup, leaving not a trace of concealer or eyeliner. My skin didn't need an immediate application of moisturizer, and all night long, I had a hard time keeping my hands off my soft, clean skin. And, I loved the citrus scent of this product. But, I do know that the Lancome oil contains mineral oil, which will be the death of this product for me. Mineral oil is a byproduct of the distillation of gasoline from crude oil. Mineral oil is commonly found in thousands of beauty products, but is widely known to clog pores and do all kinds of bad things to your skin and body. So, this will probably be my only go-round with the Lancome product.

Tonight? Boscia.

Spoon Me

2009-10-02T11:05:00.001-05:00

Last night, I was at Marissa's house for Book Club when she began to set the table for dinner. On the menu for the evening? Soup. Hadley and I were sitting in the living room chatting, when Marissa interrupted and asked, "Mary Anna, do you want a big spoon or a small spoon? I know you're particular when it comes to your spoons."

"I am? Oh yeah, I am..."

You see, there's a big difference in the functionality of a big spoon versus a small spoon. Depending on the viscosity of a substance, either spoon may be employed. For instance, soup and cereal require a larger spoon, as to gain surface area for the liquid or substance (in my case, Cheerios or Frosted Mini Wheats) to rest. Inversely, a small spoon is necessary for foods like yogurt and ice cream, as smaller bites are required.

While the above paragraph describes the normal, everyday thoughts rolling around in my brain, I didn't realize others might also be privy to my neuroses. On one hand, I was pleased that a good friend of mine knows me so well that she thought to ask me what type of spoon I prefer. On the other hand, I wondered, am I really that weird?

I hear the train a comin'

2009-09-30T09:02:00.001-05:00

I was laying in bed last night around midnight, trying to sort through a point of frustration for me right now, and I heard the blaring horn of a freight train about a mile away. This is a sweet and comforting sound for me, as it sounds like home. I've been able to hear the train every place I've ever lived. It used to echo off the trees on Calendar Lane and bounce through the hills of Long Hollow into my childhood bedroom at night. When I was in college, I could hear it whistle through the courtyard into my dorm room window. My first apartment post-college was located at one of the highest points in Cool Springs, and the I could look down and see it rolling along the Vanderbilt Legends Club in the valley. And now, the trains roam in Berry Hill, filling all of 12 South with their cacophony. It's a simple pleasure, really, but one that is uniquely mine.

Humble Thyself

2009-09-29T08:58:00.002-05:00

Yesterday around 4:15, I picked up my CWJC merea, D, from her janitorial job at Vanderbilt. She hopped in the car, and I started driving toward Hillsboro. We were on our way to The Dog of Nashville, a gourmet hot dog restaurant off Belcourt. As we approached a gas station on our left, I commented about how high the gas prices are around here, and wondered if they would ever go back down. She chimed in agreeably, "I know. I used to be able to make a phone call at a pay phone for 25 cents, and it's gone up to 50 cents now."

Ouch. I am complaining about the affordability of gas to a person who has no car, no cell phone, no cable television, and barely makes ends meet. I am complaining to a person who takes the city bus and who walks miles to get from place to place. I am complaining to a person that never has access to the convenience of a phone ringing in her purse, and who struggles to locate pay phones, as they're becoming more scarce these days. I am complaining to a person who works weekends and cleans up after the messes that others make.

Cut yourself a big ol' slice of humble pie, Mary Anna.

Leaf, P.I.

2009-09-28T13:06:00.001-05:00

The fall foliage tracker and maps are up on the Weather Channel. You can view them here.

I believe a weekend drive down scenic Natchez Trace is in order soon! This is going to be the most gorgeous Tennessee autumn!

Autumnal Nostalgia

2009-09-27T21:26:00.002-05:00

We're officially five days into my favorite season of the year, yet today was the first day that actually felt like autumn. All of this rain we've been having has suppressed the crisp air and amped up the humidity. The sun is finally back. So, what did I do to celebrate? I went to the pool. Steph and I spent three glorious hours in the sun and we barely broke a sweat. And, we managed to save a drowning grasshopper and kill two bumblebees with one stone. Just doing our part to make the world a better place.

An anomaly occurred Friday night, when all four of the foxes on Knox found ourselves without plans as of 8 p.m. So, we texted some girlfriends, piled in the car, and headed down to the theater in the hood to watch the late showing of Fame on opening night. As we entered the building, we saw five or so other gals we all knew with the same intention. Imagine that....a grand total of 13 single girls without dates on a Friday night. Shocker. Anyway, Fame was rather lame, but it was nice to get out of the house.

I got my London and Paris '08 photos organized this weekend. The plan is to build an album on Blurb. After carefully combing through thousands of pictures, only 300 made the cut. I'm envisioning a 150 page album, and thankfully, Blurb will accommodate in an economical fashion. So many other sites charge at least a dollar per page after 20. Ridiculous.

Bible study was at 50% tonight, as Siebe, Steph and I were the only ones in town. We just started a new study on the twelve apostles, with John MacArthur's Twelve Ordinary Men as our framework. One overriding characteristic of the twelve is how ordinary these men were. Christ didn't choose Jewish scholars on purpose...He wanted people that were weak, so His glorification couldn't be justified by human intention. We asked ourselves the question, "would Christ have chosen me, among His thousands of followers, to be His disciple?" That's a tough question to answer. I'm sure I wouldn't have been one of the twelve, based on my own pride and self-righteousness alone. As I'm seeing myself grow in my relationship with Christ, it's becoming evident that He's refining my impurities. It's a difficult process, but one I am thankful for. Lately, I find myself praying Psalm 139:22-24 often, albeit reluctantly.

One item on the agenda for the week... Find someone tall to hand wash my car. My assigned parking "spot" at the house happens to fall downwind of our big pine tree in the front yard. RJ is caked with sap, and on top of that, dirt. He's been through the automatic several times, but this is going to take some elbow grease. And, my 5'4 isn't able to see the roof, much less reach it.

A few minutes ago, I got an email newsletter from the alumnae relations chair of my Alpha Delta Pi chapter in college. Sorority recruitment was a couple of weeks ago, and seeing the pictures of all the shiny, happy coeds in their starchy letter shirts sent pangs of sweet nostalgia through my body. I remember running into the chapter room on bid day with my bid card in-hand, having no idea how impactful those four years of Greek life would be for me. Such a happy time, and what a great joy to look back exactly ten years ago, and realize that I met some of my "life" friends on that day.

Santa's Elf

2009-09-20T20:28:00.002-05:00

I'm in the market for a new digital camera for a Christmas present to myself. My Canon Powershot bit the dust in May of 2008 and I haven't been able to afford to replace it until now. It was the end of my last day in Paris, so at least the timing was apropos. And, I can't really hold it agains the camera itself...I was the one who dropped it.

I cleaned out a junk closet at the house this weekend and came across my 35mm Canon Rebel SLR with my big fat Sigma lens. The camera is in flawless condition, and means so much to me....but it's not digital. My parents gave it to me for high school graduation, and it was my constant companion in college to document my shenanigans and a tool for my photography classes. It even accompanied me on my first trip to Amsterdam for a work trip. When I learned how to develop my own film and prints in college, I always thought I would someday have a darkroom and an expensive projector. I think that dream has died with the digital revolution and Photoshop.

So, it's time to buy a new point-and-shoot. My budget is around $300 or less, but I'd like to keep it on the $200 end. I want something that works reacts well to motion, as well as in low-light conditions. Canon is my brand of choice, but I'm also open to Nikon, and maybe some other industry leading brands. And, I'd like a camera that has at least 7 mpx with at least a 4x optical zoom. Lastly, my Powershot was on the large size with a finger grip. I'd like something more the size of a cell phone. Any suggestions? Any warnings?

E for Effort

2009-09-14T20:17:00.007-05:00

As you may have figured out, I'm struggling a bit right now with writing. Don't ask me why. Life is good, but very steady and slightly boring right now. But, I'm trying to make the effort again. My wise friend Courtney says, "one must practice creativity."

I met with my new Merea last night at the Christian Women's Job Corps. I am a mentor in a program for women in poverty. A Merea is the Hebrew word for friend. We'll call my Merea "D." I won't lie, this time around is going to be a challenge for a variety of reasons. The last lady I mentored, "G," was very motivated and was well on her way to accomplishing her goals by the time we were introduced. I feel very illequipped to mentor "D," but that's where I'm going to have to be very trusting of God.

This past Saturday night, we celebrated Katie's birthday at "Bluebird on the Mountain." The Bluebird Cafe hosts a series of summer concerts on the front lawn of Vanderbilt's Dyer Observatory. It was such a calm, cool evening, and I enjoyed sitting there with a glass of red wine in one hand, a slice of brie in the other, surrounded by friends in lawn chairs. And, it's always a privilege to be reminded of Nashville's endless talent pool.

Katie, MA, Amy, Hadley, Arica

I've been doing a lot of reading lately. My book club book is a Pulitzer Prize winner called Middlesex. It's about the three generation-passing of a genetic trait for hermaphroditism. A girl is born in the 60s, but never menstruates, and finds out at age 15 that she is genetically a he. It's a weird, yet fascinating read. It could potentially be one of the best books I've read, based alone on the intricate and detailed character development.

Last week, I was invited to attend a listening party at work for Steven Curtis Chapmans' new album that hits stores in November. Steven was very transparent when he described his family's sorrow of the loss of his little girl last year, and all of the questions that one asks God through something like this. I'm not normally a SCC fan, but I haven't stopped listening to the pre-release copy I stole off Courtney's desk for the past week. The words to his songs are absolutely beautiful, and there are a couple of phrases that make tears well up in my eyes every time I hear them.

Speaking of work, we were notified recently of some major changes in how we structure our store zones. These changes affect me in a major way, but so far, I've not been given the resources or help to adjust accordingly. It's going to be a difficult process...even more difficult than the challenges I'm currently facing. I'm choosing to take it day-by-day, and do my best, despite this nagging feeling of failure I deal with constantly. I'm remembering John 8:44 in this.

Perhaps there is something going on inside my four walls that I won't talk about on this forum. But, it's good, and I do believe it might stick. It's going to require me to relinquish control and take a risk, and that's clearly hard for me. We shall see.

It just started raining outside, and that is such a beautiful sound to me. God sure does know how to love on me.

You're the Inspiration

2009-09-05T20:14:00.001-05:00

I've been feeling terribly uninspired and uncreative lately. This is not like me, but I haven't been able to shake it. Any suggestions?

Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo

2009-08-18T13:44:00.002-05:00

My co-worker, Nathan, knew I was having a bad day at work today, so he brought me this:

Despite that it lights up and makes a really cool magic wand sound, it was somehow powerless to the work scattered around my desk. And it certainly hasn't dropped my rich husband out of the sky--don't think I haven't tried that. But each time I push the button and wave it around, I feel better!

Gaze into my Crystal Ball

2009-08-05T11:48:00.002-05:00

A few minutes ago, I walked out of my office and up to the kitchenette to wash my hands for lunch. My co-worker, Darrell, was standing at the other end of the counter, in front of the microwave, heating his lunch. I asked him, "what are you having for lunch?" then quickly said, "no, don't tell me. I want to guess."

So, I stood about three feet away from the side of the microwave (I couldn't see the front), and tried to guess based on the smells emanating from the side vent. After a few moments...

Some kind of pasta?

Yes.

Broccoli?

Yes. {Laughs}

A white cheesy cream sauce?

Yes!

Oh, and cubed chicken!

Yes! {As he pulls this out of the trash}

Darrell's response to this? If it were the Middle Ages, we'd be burning you at the stake right now...

Concrete Memories

2009-07-30T12:19:00.007-05:00

Several weeks ago, my aunt and uncle were in town to visit the family. Along with my mom and dad, they came and "kidnapped" me one Sunday afternoon to give me the Brown Family Historical Tour of Nashville, Tennessee. I know, right? I so enjoyed it, though. It was so fun to pass by their grade schools, the Dairy King, schoolmates' houses, and so much more. I even got to see the hill where my dad's bike chain broke while he was delivering newspapers on his paper route. And, the grove of trees where he went flying off his bike.

We went to visit the house in southeast Nash that my dad and uncle grew up in, and the gentleman that now owns the place was outside working on the lawn. The five of us piled out of my uncle's truck to ask the guy if we could look around the backyard of the house. It's the south, so no one's a stranger.

Of course, he said yes. We walked to the side door of the house to find the concrete stoop my dad and Grandpa laid. My cousin Tyler, brother Ben, and I had all placed our handprints in the wet cement back in 1986. Tyler was six, I was five, and Ben was three. Here's the picture:

I've bumped up the contrast so you can see it a little better. Tyler's hand is on the left, and that's a "T" above his hand. Mine is in the middle with an "MA" on top, and Ben's is on the right with a "B." I can remember stretching out my hand really wide, and enjoying smashing it into the wet concrete. Ben, on the other hand, threw a fit because he didn't want to put his hand in the concrete. I remember that mom made him. So he did, and he squeezed his fingers together tightly so they were all in a line. That's why his handprint looks more like a blob.

This image is the original date: AD 86. I guess my dad or Grandpa were trying to be funny, but that's not unusual.

City of Angels

2009-07-26T21:22:00.002-05:00

I brought a lot back from my trip to Skid Row. One thing is the adenovirus. I was already sick going into the trip, and evidently my crippled immune system couldn't handle the funk. I went to the doctor on Thursday, and after my swine flu test came back negative, the doc diagnosed me with the adenovirus. It's basically an infection of the respiratory system, and it manifests itself in different forms, including pink eye. So, there you go. Needless to say, I've been quarantined from all regularly scheduled activities since late last week. Dr. Mom has been taking good care of me though, and I'm going to work tomorrow, bloodshot eyes and all.

It's been interesting living the aftermath of my trip. The world clearly turned without me while I was gone, and this past Monday, I found myself feeling helpless. Granted, I didn't feel well anyway, and that may have contributed to some of my blood, sweat and tears, but still... The work in front of me seemed so meaningless (it actually is meaningless), yet it is still my responsibility. My goal is to keep the beginning of my new week in perspective.

I learned enough lessons for a lifetime in a mere week's time. Here is only a little of what impacted me permanently:

--My definition of success is altered. Before the trip, I would've said that a homeless/addicted person should get help, get clean, get a home, get a job, get a car, get a family, and live the american dream. But I'm not so sure that's the answer anymore. I spent time with the men that live at Set Free Church, and listened to their stories of abuse, addiction and homelessness. All of them are now clean, and some work odd jobs here and there, but they all live in community in bunks in the garage bay of Set Free. They are the "disciples" of the church and they are in full-time ministry to the people living on the streets of Skid Row. Their lives don't fit into the prettiness of the "American Dream," but they're loving God and serving others. They know a return to their previous cultures would mean an extreme amount of temptation. So they choose otherwise. Now that, is respectable and a wise way for living. I can learn from this.

I was unloading some of this on Emily the other day, and she sent me this quote by Booker T. Washington: "I have learned that success is to be measured not so much by the position that one has reached in life as by the obstacles which he has had to overcome while trying to succeed."

--There is a homeless lady named Joanna that is a faithful attender of Set Free Church. Joanna loves Jesus, but she also loves the bottle. I don't know her full story, but I know she's been an alcoholic for many years, and she's been drunk each day I've seen her. On the morning of our outreach fair, we pulled up and Joanna was out in front of the church on her hands and knees, scrubbing the sidewalk with a brush and bleach. This is the same sidewalk that I've seen people urinate and defecate upon. Because of her love for the Lord and for the church, she felt it was her responsibility to humble herself and make the sidewalk presentable for the fair. I don't know if Joanna will ever conquer her addiction, but I do believe that she is my sister in Christ and that I will see her healed in Heaven one day. She's gonna see me healed of my "pretty sins" too.

--At the end of the trip, Brother Mark, a man living at Set Free that I respect immensely, came up to me and told me that he had been watching me all week, and that he was proud of the mercy and compassion that I was able to show these men and women. Tears came to my eyes, and I was so humbled that I barely could mumble a "thank you" to him. Truth is, I'm not a merciful or compassionate person. On my spiritual gifts tests in the past, I've always rated the lowest in those areas. But I found it so easy to love on these people while I was there. On the plane ride home, I asked myself why it is so hard to love on co-workers, some friends, some family, or others that pass by me on a daily basis? I'm making an effort to change this, to lengthen my short fuse, and to genuinely start to love those that are sometimes unlovable. Christ did it for me....does it for me....will do it for me.

--During my nine days in California, I learned what a true disciple of Christ looks like. I watched Robert paint a homeless lady's nails at the outreach fair on Saturday because there was no one else around to do it. Ivan gave away one of his own shirts to a homeless man in need of a shirt for a job interview one afternoon. Even though beds are available at Set Free, Brother James sleeps on the dirty concrete floor of the sanctuary because he says "it puts him at the feet of God." I watched as Ernie stopped and prayed over a homeless man taken with seizures on the streets. Thomas gave a homeless man food out of his own pantry. Brother Mark is so patient with people each morning when he's leading Proverbs, and doesn't rush them as they read or expound on what they're learning.

These men live in deplorable conditions, but I never heard a single complaint about the heat or the filth. Instead, I heard praises for their many blessings. These men know the Word inside and out. They have eternal perspective, and know that living for Christ is serious business...it's a matter of life or death. These men are a brotherhood, and they watch out for each other and protect each other. They say I love you, and they really mean it. They took me into their home, welcomed me, and blessed me far more than I could ever bless them.

I won't lie...I was not ready to come home. Sure, I was sick, and out of clean clothing, and I missed my family and friends...but I didn't want to come back for fear that I will fall back into my comfy rut. Please don't let me, okay?

I'm working on getting a web album of pictures together. Stay tuned...

Goodnight, Hollywood Boulevard

2009-07-18T22:02:00.000-05:00

I'm flying home tomorrow evening, but I have one more Skid Row experience left: a Sunday morning church service with baptism. The baptismal is a oval-shaped, aluminum tub that is propped up on some milk crates. I know it's going to be a very special time tomorrow morning.

I am so very sad to leave. So, so sad. This past week has impacted my life permanently, and I can't wait to see how it's going to change my ways and my perception. I have so much more to tell you, but need some time to process. I'll catch up with you at some point next week.

Thank you so much for going on this journey with me. Your support means more than you know.

When the Lights Go Down in the City

2009-07-16T16:49:00.001-05:00

I have only a short update for you this evening, as I am leaving with the group in a few minutes to go to a LA Dodgers game. So excited for a hot dog and some MLB!

--We set out on the streets today to pass out fliers advertising the street fair we're hosting on Saturday. We'll close San Julian from 6th to 7th Avenue, and set-up free food vendors, clothing booths, a stage for live music and other entertainment, games, etc. I'm so excited about the opportunity to tell a lot of people about Jesus!

--The bulk of our time today was spent out on the streets and in Gladys Park. I met one man named Waterhouse (I know, right?), and as he rolled himself a fat doobie, he told me that he was a raggae drummer. I invited him out to come perform for us at the fair. I met another man named Twin. He looked like a gang-banger, but he was a poet, and an intellectual. He's also going to perform for us at the street fair. I didn't get to play chess today, as the guy with the chess set wasn't going to be at GP until later in the day. But I did get to talk with one of the chess players, a very nice guy named Bob. And I got to see a street-ball game, and was totally impressed.

--I found out today that Set Free Church attendance climbs monumentally the last week or so of the month. Why? The government checks have run out, and the money to buy drugs is gone. So, I hear that they come in droves and that the place becomes standing room only. Interesting how people turn to God when the "pleasures" of this world fail to provide for them.

--I didn't see Carla today. She was MIA. The more we've thought about it, the more we think that she might be demon-possessed. Or, maybe schizophrenic or MPD. Either way, it's evident that there's spiritual warfare going on inside her.

--We've been a little tickled this week at all of the "amens" and "brother/sister" and affirmations that are so freely admitted. And now we've found ourselves picking up on these words and phrases. Watch out BBC...Eric Fallati won't be the only one hollerin' on Sunday morning!

--I love getting to spend time with these men and women. The longer we are there, the more they are opening up to us. I'm hearing stories of painful childhoods, abuse, bad parenting, and so many other horrible things. No wonder they became so addicted to the things of this world. But I'm also hearing many stories of redemption and transformation. There are naysayers that believe that addicts are incorrigible. And while not everyone succeeds in breaking free of addiction, there are many that do. To see their passion is so inspiring.

More to come. Amen!

Hollywood Babylon

2009-07-15T21:49:00.001-05:00

With all that I experienced today, it might as well have been the length of an entire week. Today was a day of firsts. Today was a day full of burden. Today was a day of hope. Here are the highlights (and some of the lowlights, too)...

--At the beginning of 10:30 a.m. Bible study, I was able to lead the church on a raucous rendition of the "fruit of the spirit" song. Homeless men and women doing the banana? Priceless.

--I said "good morning" to Carla, and she called me a liar and some other words I will censor. I won't lie...it hurt deeply. Gotta keep reminding myself that I just need to keep showing her love.

--Met a man named Moses. He was incredibly filthy, barefoot, and mentally incapacitated. But we had a good conversation, nonetheless, and in his eyes I could see what he once was before addiction took hold of his life. At one point, he asked me if I liked Crystal. I said, "oh yes! Yummy hamburgers!" And he said, "no, no, Crystal. Crystal Meth." Right.

--Made a new friend named Eduardo. He's from Mexico, and didn't speak a lick of English. I speak gringo spanish, but the Lord provided me with enough to talk to him. He was a very sweet man, who seemed to be free of addiction, but was still struggling on the streets. I hope I see him again. He blessed me.

--Robert and Ernie, two of the previously homeless/addicted men in leadership at Set Free, gave us a tour of the neighborhood. We visited the Volunteer Center, a place that provides housing, bathroom facilities, job assistance, and other aid. We toured the Midnight Mission, the main rescue mission in Los Angeles, the Union Rescue Mission, and the Lamp, a mission for the disabled and mentally handicapped. We were privileged to visit the Jonah Project, a Christian mission under construction in a donated 40,000 square foot, four-story structure. In case you don't know what a blessing this is...Set Free Church operates in a 5000 square foot facility. Their rent each month is $7000. Imagine what rent would be for the Jonah Project if they had to provide for themselves.

--Walking around Skid Row today, I saw a man sitting on a curb, lift up his shirt and shoot heroin into his belly. Then, he removed the syringe and twirled it in his fingers like it ain't no thang. A few minutes later, I saw a man smoking his glass crack pipe. Toto, I don't think I'm in Brentwood anymore...

--During our break today, we drove to Hollywood and Beverly Hills. I laid eyes on the Hollywood sign, as well as the sights along Sunset Blvd, Robertson, and Rodeo Drive. I wasn't terribly impressed.

--On our afternoon walk to the urban Gladys Park, I happened to fall in line walking with a girl that looked to be about my age. She was very pretty, but had tons of sores on her face, arms and legs---likely meth sores. She didn't look strung out, but instead, very broken down. It seriously hurt my heart. She continued to walk beside me, and I asked her name. Jessie. She mumbled that somehow she began to hook on the streets. I didn't get much more, because she just tucked her head. And then I asked if I could pray for her. She said yes. So, as we walked down East 6th Street, I placed my hand on her back and prayed for her. It was one of the most important and most privileged moments of my entire life.

--We arrived at Gladys Park to some street ball games, and people gathered. I walked over to a group of four men playing chess, and watched them go back and forth for a few minutes. It was nearing six p.m. by this point, and the guard sounded the bell to close the park. I asked the men if they would be around tomorrow---I wanted a go at it. So, tomorrow, I have a chess date. I can't wait!

So tired, but so joyous!

The Last Resort

2009-07-14T22:40:00.002-05:00

So much to say, so little time before I need to turn in. Tomorrow is a 6 a.m. day.

The group with a BBC Connect Mag and a Set Free cover story

This morning, we traveled a couple of hours to Cabazon, a very small desert town southeast of Los Angeles. Both the men's and women's Set Free Ranch is located in a trailer park in the town. Think a lot of dirt, mountains made out of rocks, a lot of dirt, poverty, and more dirt. My first impression? This place is awful. And that's kind of the point. Most of the LA rehab centers are cushy and expensive, and seem like more of a vacation than a detox. So when an addict goes to rehab, it's rather easy to be motivated to kick the habit...at least for a little while. Then, when you dump them back into their environment, they're right back to where they were before. Set Free's goal is to disciple these men and women in the "desert" or the "valley," so that it won't be such a culture shock when they return to the real world. And evidently, it works.

When a man or woman accepts Christ at any of the LA Set Free Churches, they have the opportunity to live at the Ranch for 60 days. The first five or so days are spent in the "grace room," where they are able to detox naturally. Then, they join the rest of the participants and it's "beans, rice, and Jesus Christ" discipleship. In the sixteen year history, over 10,000 homeless/addicted men and women have "graduated" the Ranch.

Today, we spent our time at the women's Ranch. Think a poorly lit trailer, limited air conditioning, and a big tented "patio" area where they eat, fellowship, and learn. This ain't the Ritz. You've got women coming in each week, and women graduating each week, so it's typically an unrefined and spiritually immature crowd.

On our way into Cabazon this morning, we picked up a lady named Charlotte, one of the Set Free transfers to the Ranch. Charlotte has been an alcoholic for a very long time, and that a couple of stints in rehab hadn't kept her off the bottle. She felt like the Ranch was her last ditch effort to get her life straightened out. When we picked her up, I met her 13 and 16 year old daughter, and it was humbling to see them urging their mother to go to the Ranch. I was empowered to encourage Charlotte to stop the cycle of addiction in her family and show her how proud of her that we are.

Anna and I were in charge of leading today's devotion, and we spoke about Psalm 23---a chapter that I became familiar with as a child, but has recently has new meaning to me. It was difficult for me to be transparent in front of these women, and to try to establish a connection with them, as I didn't know if they would think that some pampered Tennessee girl could relate to them in any way.

After the devotion, we coupled up with different women to give them manicures with supplies that we'd brought with us. I sat down next to a lady named Valerie. She was very quiet at first, and I began to ask her questions about her life as I filed her nails. It took a few minutes of small talk, but she finally opened up and we began to talk about some similar personal experiences that we are both dealing with. She told me that when I was speaking during devotional, it was like I was speaking right to her. Our lives look so different, but our struggle is the same. I was so humbled that God blessed me with the opportunity to minister to her through what I've learned, but that she was also able to minister to me--without even realizing it!

We were all very humbled when we left the Ranch today. In contrast to the women that live at the halfway house, these women were clearly struggling to conquer their demons. And because most of them are new believers, Biblical concepts are very foreign to them. The refinement process is almost never pretty. I should know.

Later that afternoon, we hugged these women goodbye, and we drove to Yucaipa to visit the original Set Free Church, and meet Pastor Willie. It's a testament of what God can do through a simple man with a vision.

I haven't yet mentioned how hot it was today...102 degrees. But evenso, it still didn't compare to the July humidity of Tennessee. There's a constant cool breeze here, and we were able to see hundreds of wind turbines in action. Very cool.

Tomorrow, we head back down to Skid Row to lead the daily Proverbs and Bible studies, and spend time walking the streets to invite people to the outreach fair on Saturday. I covet your prayers tomorrow for safety and opportunity. Many of the people we will be working with will be high on drugs, jaded from prostitution, and generally distrustful of light walking through a very dark place.

Earlier in the week, I met a drug-addicted, prostitute on Skid Row named Carla. While we were briefly at Skid Row this morning to pick up one of the halfway house leaders, I spoke with Carla for a few minutes. After asking her where she was from, she told me to quit being nosy...that it was wrong of anyone to try to live off someone else's misfortunes. I understand her perspective, and it's got to be difficult to watch the "shiny, happy people" come in and out each week and then return to our fluffy-Jesus lives. I want to love on Carla this week, and desire more opportunities to listen to her. Please pray for the victory over the battle going on inside her heart and her head. I really would love to see her tomorrow.

Lastly, I hope ya'll are still getting all of my title-song references...

Californication

2009-07-13T17:54:00.001-05:00

It's around fiveish in LA, and I've got a few minutes before we go grab dinner tonight. Our first stop this morning was the church at 7 a.m. for Proverbs. Each morning, attendees collectively read and discuss the chapter of Proverbs that goes along with each day. Today, Proverbs 13. We go around the room, and each person reads one verse. Then when the chapter is read, we go around the room and every person in the room picks out one verse and tells how it applies to their own life. It's so interesting to hear wisdom and perspective from the homeless.

I realized this morning that the men and women that are making an attempt to clean up their lives have everything to lose. Not nothing to lose, but everything. Each clean day is a victory, but the temptation is not far. It's like climbing up a mountain at a 90 degree angle. If you stop or look back, you begin to slide back down or even fall. You have to keep looking up and you have to keep moving.

After Proverbs ended, we drove out to Compton to the women's home. It's a tiny, two-bedroom, one-bathroom house where twelve women live. And they seem perfectly content. They all share the household responsibilities, and all are in school or have jobs. They can stay at this halfway house for as long as they like. Most programs kick you out after 60 days, and often that's not long enough for a person to establish healthy habits and get back on their feet financially.

Later this afternoon, we drove back downtown to the Set Free Church for the afternoon Bible study. Because Proverbs is so early in the morning, most of the homeless that attends are serious about studying the Word. But in the afternoon, people are finally up and moving, and trolling around doped out. There are long glass windows down one-side of the church, and two sets of glass double-doors facing the street. During Bible study, the doors stay open, and prostitutes and drug-addicts walk in and out. I was shocked (and maybe a little more naive than I thought) when I realized a gentleman had "set up shop" outside the front windows to peddle his dope. It's very in-your-face and unapologetic. These are main thoroughfares, not seedy alleyways. It's a sharp contrast to be listening to someone preach hope and then turn your head and look at the ugliness and brokenness outside.

Later this afternoon, we swung by Pinkberry, a fruit and fro-yo parlor native to Cali. I had a tasty fruit parfait with kiwi, blueberry, strawberry, pineapple, coconut, granola, and the original Pinkberry yogurt flavor. It was yummy, but it didn't last long, and now I'm starving. Off to dinner! More tomorrow! BTW, I hope you're getting my title-song references...

Come Monday

2009-07-12T23:59:00.001-05:00

I've only been in California for a little over 24 hours, but it already feels like days---in a good way, though. Our flight arrived ahead of schedule on Saturday evening, and we were starving. Pastor Ron, the leader of Set Free Skid Row Church, met us at the airport with a 12 person van on loan for the week. One of our trip leaders, Kim, knows the area well, and took us to dinner at a Mexican joint (and a joint it was), called El Tarasco, at Manhattan Beach. So, within two hours of arriving, I got to see beach, the Pacific Ocean, mountains, and a gorgeous California sunset. Oh, and some delicious Mexican food.

We arrived at our hotel around 10:30 that evening, and were, unsurprisingly, exhausted. Check-in didn't go smoothly, as the hotel booked our reservations, but didn't actually block off any rooms in the system. So for an hour and a half, we didn't think we were actually going to have a place to sleep that night. I was a zombie by this point. After shifting some things around, I finally laid my head on my pillow at 12:15 a.m.---that'd be 2:15 a.m. Nashville time.

Five a.m. came a little too soon. We traveled to downtown Los Angeles this morning to participate in Sunday morning worship at Set Free. The church is basically a big room with stained and bent chairs, a stage, keyboard and a make-shift sound-system. I had some time to mingle with the regulars and the guests before the service. Donald, a gentleman who is struggling with addiction, sang me a song before the service. I asked him, "did you write that?" He said, "no girl, that's Flo Rida." Right.

The service began with a solo from Pastor Ron, but it wasn't really a solo, as the congregants were singing the song loudly too. After a couple more songs, the Set Free choir, led us in worship. I have never heard a more painfully tonedeaf version of "Shout to the Lord," but all I could think about was how beautiful it was, and how it must sound like sweet, sweet music to my Lord.

The offering was taken up next, and I watched as homeless men and women pulled cash out of their pockets to place inside the plate. I know, right? It was incredibly humbling to watch. And humorous too. I watched two men make change in the offering plate, and the "deacon" hold the plate like it wasn't a big deal.

Pastor Ron gave his personal testimony this morning, and talked about how he struggled to release himself from his own snare of sin addiction, but that the Lord never gave up on Him. While his message translates well to his homeless attenders, it also struck a chord with me. We are all so different on the outside, but we all still need Jesus and his saving grace. After the benediction and prayer time, we mingled a bit more and then left to come back to the hotel.

Our only day of "free time" was today, and our leaders had a surprise for us. They took us to the Santa Monica Pier and Venice Beach. We ate lunch at a little beachside pub and then walked down to Venice Beach to see the muscle men, then onto the Pier. I was shocked and amazed to see how many people were crammed on the beach and in the water. It was a sharp contrast to Gulf Beaches, even on a crowded day.

A local anti-war organization set-up an exhibit of crosses to signify the number of casualties, both American and Middle-Eastern, of our current "war." It was disturbing, yet oddly a beautiful exhibit.

I walked through the throngs of people down to the beach to dip my toes in the Pacific Ocean. I can now mark that one off my list. It was ice cold, but clean.

I'm sunburned, and tired, and headed to bed. We have to leave the hotel at 6:10 tomorrow morning to make "Proverbs" at Set Free. More about that soon. Goodnight!

California knows how to party...

2009-07-10T15:03:00.001-05:00

...a little too well. Tupac might not be so proud, now that Los Angeles is home to one of the largest homeless/addict populations in the United States. I depart tomorrow afternoon for Los Angeles, to serve this population on the streets of Skid Row. During the trip, my church team will be working with Set Free Church to distribute clothing/necessities, serve meals, conduct Bible studies, facilitate church services, street reach, and generally love on the unloved.

Set Free Church was founded in 1993 in a storefront building of Yucaipa, CA. Led by Pastor Willie Dalgity and his wife, Marsha, they made it their mission to take the message of Jesus Christ to the streets of their community to minister to the homeless, hurting, addicted, hopeless and forgotten people in needs of God's love. Sixteen years later, there are more than 60 Set Free Churches scattered throughout California and the United States.

Set Free Church is different than any homeless shelter or addiction program. Among providing for homeless men and women, they hold daily chapel services to share the good news of Christ. If a man or woman accepts Christ, they are offered the opportunity to board a bus to the "Ranch," a camp two hours away in the California desert where it's "beans, rice, and Jesus Christ." This gets the homeless out of their destructive environment. After arriving at the camp, addicts are given around a week to detox naturally, and then begin discipleship alongside the others. It's 60 days of intense Bible Study, prayer and worship. The participants also learn some job training skills, life skills, etc. After 60 days, the participants are required to get a job, and they move to a "halfway house" of sorts in Compton. Some participants go on to start Set Free churches in other parts of the country---the "redeemed" homeless are mentoring the "lost" homeless. This same model of an inner-city church and "ranch" is used at all 60 Set Free Churches

Here's a little bit about what we will be doing on a daily basis:

Saturday, July 11 - Arrive

Sunday, July 12 - Downtown LA at Skid Row Church: Lead devotional

Monday, July 13 - Los Angeles Women's Home: Build relationships, give manicures, love on these women.

Tuesday, July 14 - Set Free Women's Ranch in Yucaipa, CA: Build relationships, lead devotional, love on these women

Wednesday, July 15 - Downtown LA at Skid Row Church: Lead Bible studies, fellowship, serve meals, pass out clothing/necessities

Thursday, July 16 - Downtown LA at Skid Row Church / Street Reach in Skid Row: Lead Bible studies, fellowship, serve meals, passout clothing/necessities, invite those on the street to come to outreach fair

Friday, July 17 - Downtown LA at Skid Row Church / Street Reach in Skid Row: Lead Bible studies, fellowship, serve meals, passout clothing/necessities, invite those on the street to come to outreach fair

Saturday, July 18 - Downtown LA at Skid Row Church / Street Outreach Fair: Conduct street fair with free food, clothing/necessities, live music, preaching, etc.

Sunday, July 19 - Depart for Home

I would appreciate and covet your prayers while I am away. You can pray specifically for safety, focus, authenticity, love, kindness, mercy, and acceptance. Also---I'm a bit under the weather with a sore throat, and I would love prayers for healing before my trip. If time permits, I will blog while I'm on the trip. Until then, thank you for your thoughts and prayers!

Insert Irreverence Here

2009-06-30T21:20:00.003-05:00

My craving for dinner tonight was for sushi at Miyako, but when the wait for a to-go order was going to be about a half-an-hour, I went home and settled for a bowl of frosted mini-wheats and a Stella Artois. I can't remember the last time I actually cooked a hot meal for myself. Such a shame...but no time!

I'm booked solid for the next two weeks with visits from out-of-town friends, mission trip meetings, training sessions at the Rescue Mission, a wedding shower, Book Club, dogsitting the Puppa, and even dinner with a dear, old high school friend I haven't seen in *ahem* ten years. Oh, and did I mention that I hold a 7 to 4 as well?

I'll be lucky to get some pool time and fireworks in during this favorite holiday weekend of mine. Only if I had a man and a grill... But at least I'll have my single girlfriends, and if I'm lucky, maybe a hot dog at the Sonic.

My wine class ended last Wednesday night. Perfect timing, really. We spent our last class creating our own blended wines. We were given three white wines and three red wines and told to mix them for an original concoction. My group won the white wine category, and I was really proud of that. I think I even did jazz hands when my instructor announced the winner. Don't tell anyone. I love to win.

SBC was, well, S.B.C. Some of you are privileged to know how I've been referring to the event, and it certainly didn't fall short of my expectations. Let's put it this way.... On the way up to Louisville last Friday, I fell downwind of a truck shuttling horses at 30 mph on a ten-mile stretch of 65N. The parallel? Both were a whole 'lotta ass.

Fringe Benefits

2009-06-18T14:48:00.000-05:00

My interest in my sorry excuse for a freelance career is waning as I get busier and the market dries up. One publication that I wrote for semi-regularly is on its way to folding. But the premiere issue of Fringe Magazine released earlier this week, and my article on up and coming songwriter, Jaclyn James, is on page 39, right beside Mr. Dave Barnes. Ch-ch-check it out. I won't lie...I'm kind of pumped, and just slightly motivated.

Last night was my mid-week vino break at Fido. Several of the wines we sampled were meant to be illustrative, rather than enjoyed. For example, we sampled a fortified wine from South Africa, called Weltevrede Golden Muscat. The wine is meant to be served during the dessert course, but I hated it--as it is cloyingly sweet. Imagine fermenting yellow raisins and candied orange peel, and you come out with something similar to cough syrup. But, it was nice to at least try the wine and gain some knowledge about fortified wines.

My favorites?

Cassone La Florencia Chardonnay from Mendoza, Argentina
This lighly oaked white had a perfect balance of sweetness, with a creamy hint of vanilla. It was delightful. And that's all I have to say about that.

Vinedo de los Vinedos Tannat from Atlantida, Uruguay
My wine instructor chose this wine to teach us about tannins, plant polyphenols that cause a dry and puckery feeling in the mouth following consumption of a red wine or unripened fruit. For instance, when you drink either iced or hot tea, the last few sips are dry and bitter, as the tannins have settled to the bottom. In wine, tannins come from the grape skins. A tannat grape is one of the best examples of a wine rich in tannins. My instructor illustrated the effect of this wine as a "fat tongue."

Dierberg Syrah from Santa Ynez, California
This wine is ranked in the top ten of American Syrah in 2009 by three different publications: Wine Spectator, Wine Advocate, and Wine Enthusiast. As with most Syrah varieties that I love, this wine was dry, smooth, and overflowing with dark cacao, coffee and sweet spices.

Our Menu:

Grilled Peaches with Caramel Dressing, garnished with parmesan, mint and basil
Local Zucchini and Squash, stuffed with Kentucky Gouda and Fennel
Chorizo, Beef and Veggie Burger with Fig and Artichoke Mayonnaise on house-made Poppyseed Sourdough Roll
Home Fries with Sea Salt and fresh Garlic
Gingerbread Tea Cake filled with Lemon Curd, drizzled with Balsamic Reduction

I leave tomorrow for Louisville, for my annual author signing stint at the Southern Baptist Convention. I'm sure it will be a jolly good time, replete of three-piece suits, beards, and good ol' fashioned conservativism. I will have a lot of time to blog, but not a lot to blog about. Afterall, it is Louisville...

Worship 101

2009-06-14T21:18:00.000-05:00

It's no lie...I'm a dummy when it comes to the world of praise and worship music. I've been a Christian for 21 years, was raised in the church, live with three women who are fiercely loyal to the praise tracks on their iPods, and work in corporate marketing for one of the largest Christian retailers in the United States. Yet still, I am clueless.

I grew up listening to secular music, and garnering a great understanding and appreciation of an eclectic variety of artists and albums throughout the ages. Some of my happiest memories are tagged to songs that define my current life stage. And who expresses emotion and the circumstances of life better than the poetic artists writing these songs? My iTunes library currently holds 32.1 GB of music in the form of 663 albums/23.5 days. I estimate that only about five percent is composed of religious content. And that's probably a generous guess.

In the church, I cut my teeth on Baptist hymns. They will always be my first choice when it comes to praising my Savior through song. If you experience the unfortunate event of standing next to me in church during A Mighty Fortress is Our God, you might not be able to hear yourself sing because of my loud soprano. I can't get enough.

I have an issue with praise and worship music. A large portion of the songs are (in my humble opinion) incredibly cheesetastic, and quite frankly, they annoy me. And I tire of singing a chorus ten times in four minutes, as is indicative of many praise songs.

I want to learn. I want some praise and worship to call my own. Half the battle is knowing where to start. Will you please help? I have a $25 iTunes giftcard burning a hole in my pocket. Can you suggest artists, songs, choirs, albums, etc? Teach me, o wise ones.

Heavenly Lightning

2009-06-12T10:21:00.004-05:00

Lovely Friday to you. Yesterday was a much better day for me, and I anticipate a good weekend ahead. I'm supposed to go to the Nashville Sounds game tonight with my Mom and Dad, unless it rains. I really want to eat a hot dog and see the post-game fireworks. And I'd love some pool time tomorrow, followed-up by Hadley's birthday party at Arrington Vineyards.

It stormed a big one last night, with tons of rain and lightning. I love storms. I know they're dangerous and frighten most, but I really do love them. It occurred to me this morning that I'd like for God to host lightning shows when I get to Heaven. It's obvious from the Bible that lightning is a tool of the Lord, and that He holds it in ultimate control. Can you imagine the Creator of the Universe putting on a show like that?

I didn't anticipate this blog post moving in this direction, but... What would you like to see in Heaven? My pastor, Mike Glenn, commented the other night about the Bible's description of Heaven, and how we sell it short. For instance, when we think of the pearly gates, we think of hundreds of pearls, all linked together. Instead, the Bible says that each gate is a single pearl, the (forgive the pun) mother of all pearls. And streets of gold conjure up images of the yellow brick road. But no, the gold is so pure that it's as transparent as glass. It's going to be the most glorious sight I've ever laid eyes.

The Bible does a great job to establish Heaven's brilliance, but also inspires me to wonder what else awaits at my final destination. I know there will be great feasts. But will it be food that I've tasted and loved on earth, or yet-to-be-discovered delicacies, reserved only for heavenly beings. And, what about animals? I'd love to lounge around with a big, beastly lion without fear of getting my head bitten off. Just sayin.

Moving on.... Wednesday evening, I attended my weekly vino class. Kind of like my art class used to be, my wine class has become my mid-week distraction from the sometimes harsh realities of life. Our main topic of study was communication of the art of wine, and we learned how to describe wine as you would describe a personality, build a basic wine vocab, and use different flavor concepts to define a wine's character.

Our menu for the evening:

Cucumber-Melon Gazpacho
Tuna Tartare with Hazlenuts and Avocado
Sesame Marinated Coconut Shrimp
Pork Loin stuffed with Goat Cheese, Cherries and Walnuts
Mexican Chocolate Cupcakes

In addition to dinner, we were given fruit pairings that matched up with each of the wines sampled. Of the eight wines, I had several favorites:

Eradus Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand
This unique Sav-Blanc was very creamy, not typical of the variety. We were given a slice of grapefruit to help us identify the flavor in the wine. This wine was also served alongside our Tuna Tartare, as it pairs well with sushi.

Austin's Pino Noir from Geelong, Australia
Our instructor taught us the proper wine swirling method, and to seek flavor topnotes just from the wine's aroma. It's gonna sound odd, but I detected a salty bacon hint from this wine. I was right...salty meats smells are often detected on dark red wines. And at the same the flavor was very cherry. This wine would pair nicely with a hearty steak and potatoes meal.

Baguala Torrontes from Valles Calchaquies, Argentina
The Torrontes grape was a lost variety from Portugal, that made it's way over the years to Argentina. The minute this wine hit my glass, it smelled sugary--but in a floral way. It's essence of pear and pineapple shone through, making it a very sweet wine. I envision a cool, late summer night on the front porch with friends, and this chilled beauty.

Syan Shiraz from Pyrenees, Australia
My instructor compared a Shiraz to a kid with ADD. You never know what you're gonna get, and it changes every time you take a sip. This blackberry-blueberry noted Shiraz was dry and chocolately, and by far, my favorite of the evening. No surprise there.

Broc Cellars Petite Sirah from Paso Robles, California
The Petite Sirah is actually a the lovechild of a Durif grape and a Syrah. We were served this last wine alongside our Mexican Chocolate Cupcake. It matched the hot and spicy quality of the confection, and sent me along that evening with a nice finish.

Scheduling Bananas

2009-06-09T14:47:00.000-05:00

Do you ever have one of those "I'm about to flip out" moments, during a really inopportune time? I feel that way right now, at work. I can feel the horomones and emotions bubbling just under the surface, and I feel like I could break down into screams and sobs right now. But to the outside world, I look cool, calm, even bored. WRONG.

No time for a freak out though. I'm getting my hair cut tonight, and it's off to Kairos after that. I'll have to save it for bedtime.

Free Horse to Good Home

2009-06-04T20:58:00.003-05:00

I acquired a stray pet recently. His name is Charley, and he's a horse. While we were in Florida, I was sleeping peacefully one night. Around 3 a.m., I awoke with an amazing shooting pain in my left calf. I had no earthly idea what was going on. My leg seized up, and I sat up in bed and started crying because it hurt so bad. I couldn't flex my foot, and I just laid there and whimpered. The next morning, I told the gals about my experience, and they laughed and said that I had a Charley Horse.

Now, I know it may seem surprising, but I've never had a CH before. When I played soccer in high school, I would have Achilles flare-ups, but never anything like this. Charley was sore the week following, and I've noticed him rearing his head the past couple of days. I'm ready for Charley to find a new home.

Last night was my third Wine 101 class at Fido. I'm beginning to make some casual-acquaintance friends, even though I probably won't ever see most of them again. Our focus of the evening was "the winery," and we discussed topics including vintage, harvesting methods and seasons, fermentation differences in whites versus reds, malolactic fermentation, oak barrels versus stainless steel tanks, and wine balance in regard to fruit, acid, sugar, tannin and oak. The food was extraordinary, but the wine was only so-so, even though we tasted nine. My two favorites:

Huarpe Lancatay Malbec from Argentina
We were shown images of Malbec grapes, and they're the loveliest color of blue. Almost a periwinkle, or a Carolina blue. The skins are slightly transparent, and the grapes are large, round red pulps that shine through the skin. This wine was made from late-harvest Malbec grapes, and the wine was heavily bodied with a high alcohol content. It was incredibly fragrant, and pleasantly, but not overwhelmingly, sweet.

Three Saints Cabernet from Synez Valley, California
By far, the winner of the evening. This cab spent it's entire pre-bottle time aging in an oak barrel, bringing out a strong smoky flavor. It was incredibly smooth, yet strong, and it tasted expensive. And, it is, retailing at $25 a bottle.

Our Menu:

Coconut Chicken Rice Cakes with Lime Sour Cream and Chow Chow
Grilled Shrimp Tostada with Rhubarb BBQ Sauce and Mango Hot
Trio of Handmade Pizzas--
Classic Margherita
Lemon Mayo with Feta, Spinach and Figs
Chorizo with Tomato Pesto and Golden Raisins
Local Organic Pulled Pork on Handmade Buns with Cider BBQ Sauce and Slaw

I received some news today that upset me, although it is probably not upsetting to most of the free world. Camerin Courtney, author and columnist of the Christian Singles Today Newsletter, has been axed by Christianity Today due to the flailing economy. For the past five years, I've read Camerin's columns on a weekly basis, comforted by her straightforward honesty about life as a Christian singleton. I've read her books, and felt as though she was a wise friend, sharing her own struggles and learned lessons. Not only am I disappointed that the newsletter is folding, but I'm also struck with a pang of sadness at her words:

"This isn't how I thought goodbye would look. Our goodbye, single friends. I thought there would be a great guy ushering me into a new season of life. I thought saying goodbye to you readers would coincide with saying hello to married life or to some other new ministry or vocational pursuit. Instead, our parent company Christianity Today International has recently made the very difficult decision to discontinue ChristianSinglesToday.com. And this is our last newsletter."

I, too, thought Camerin's exit from the Singles newsletter would be the end of her singleness. I not only mourn the loss of her job, but I ache for her continued aloneness---the way I ache for my own aloneness.

Spiritually, I'm having a tough time right now hearing God and believing what I know to be true. I admit, I'm a little (okay, more than a little) irritated at Him right now. Life doesn't look like I want it to look. And because of that, I haven't wanted to read my Bible, pray, or even think about holiness. I know I'm acting like a rebellious teenager, and I'm pushing buttons in my anger. I know this can't last...shouldn't last...won't last.

I do take great comfort and humility in remembering that He knows me better than I know myself. And even during this period of heartache and defiance, I know He hasn't left me.

Psalm 139: 1-12
For the director of music. Of David. A psalm.

O LORD, you have searched me and you know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise;

you perceive my thoughts from afar.
You discern my going out and my lying down;

you are familiar with all my ways.

Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O LORD.
You hem me in—behind and before;

you have laid your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.
Where can I go from your Spirit?

Where can I flee from your presence?

If I go up to the heavens, you are there;

if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea,

even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,"
even the darkness will not be dark to you;

the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.

Made in China

2009-06-01T07:49:00.000-05:00

At my local Chinese take-out restaurant, you can purchase Kung Pao chicken, egg roll, Moo Goo Gai Pan, chow mein, fortune cookies, and fine jewelry.

A Grape Week

2009-05-29T13:05:00.002-05:00

Late Monday afternoon, I arrived home from my rained-out beach vacation to more rain. I guess it followed us home. All said and done, we got about five hours of sun, but spent most of the time in our condo watching it pour. It was truly a tropical depression.

Tuesday night I went to Kairos for the first time in almost two years. It's changed quite a bit since the last time I attended. The location moved to the new auditorium, outside the cafe. I've got to iron out some kinks, though. I sat in the floor seats, and I couldn't see the screens. And I also made the unfortunate mistake of sitting directly under one of the air conditioning vents, and froze the whole time. But the worship band was fabulous and Mike's always got a solid Word to impart.

After Kairos, I had my first mission trip meeting. I've mentioned this before with less detail, but I'm going to Los Angeles in July to spend a week on Skid Row, a four-block homeless district in the downtown area. I'll serve food to hungry people, pass out new clothes, facilitate Bible studies, and street reach. The street reach is the most exciting part for me, and perhaps the part I'm best. I haven't been able to stop thinking about this trip all week.

Wednesday evening, I went to my second Wine 101 class at Fido. I learned about the vineyards, the stages of grape growth, how climate affects the yield, the influence of soil on flavor, sugar versus acid in regards to ripeness, and much more. We sampled eight wines, and a couple of my favorites are:

Ameztoi Txakolina Hondurabi Zuri from Txacoli, Spain
To describe it, would be that it tastes like the seashore. Seriously. It was a tart, light, white spritzer wine, made from grapes that are grown in the sand by the Mediterranean Sea. The wine had a salty hint, and was unlike anything I'd ever tasted before. I loved it.

Alkoomi Late Harvest Riesling from Western Australia
It's surprising that I liked this wine, because I typically shy away from the sweeter, dessert variety. It was incredibly sugary because the grapes had been left on the vine to mature much longer than most. The wine reminded me of the Kiona Late Harvest Reisling I had during my senior Alpha Delta Pi wine tasting. Sweet memories.

Chocolate Box Shiraz from Barossa Valley, Australia
My favorite wines are reds, and of the Syrah/Shriaz variety. This will be one I will make a special trip to the store to buy. After a good aeration in a decanter, this wine smelled like rich tobacco, and tasted exactly like it should: chocolatey, with a hint of dark berry.

Warrenmang Shiraz from Pyrenees, Australia
I'm a firm believer that you can buy an excellent bottle for around $10 and that there's no need to shell out big bucks for vino. As a result, I rarely have an opportunity to taste expensive wine. This shiraz retails for $80, and while I still preferred the Chocolate Box (as well as many other $10 shiraz), it was interesting to sample an unprocessed wine. We all noticed there was a bit of sediment in the bottom of our glasses, and found out it's bits of grapeskin and oak barrel. The more expensive wines don't go through a filtering process as do many cheaper wines.

As much as I love learning about and trying new wines, I'll be honest...the food served by Fido is just as much a treat. Our tapas menu:

Organic Sweet Potatoes with Roasted Vidalias
Alsatian Cheese Tart with Applewood Bacon
Pan Fried Trout with Herbs, Feta and Local Green Onions
Kentucky Country Ham Roll-up with Local Organic Beet Greens drizzled in Bacon Vinaigrette
Vegan Chocolate Cookie Bar

I will be imitating the Cheese Tart at my next party, and I was proud of myself for correctly guessing the spice ingredients in the Vegan Chocolate Cookie Bar: cayenne, cinnamon and ginger.

Thursday evening, my Book Club gathered to discuss our latest read, Mansfield Park. Opinions about the book and Jane Austen were passionately split, and we had some great discussion to go along with Carmen's excellent food.

After Book Club, Katie surprised me with her old purse. That sounds funny, eh? Katie has this fabulous Fossil clutch-purse that I've envied for at least a year. I've been very vocal about my envy, too. Several weeks ago, she said she was shopping for a new purse, and that she'd give me the old purse when she found a replacement. I was shocked and elated, and so graciously thankful. Isn't it so cute?! Aren't you envious now?