Memories and Proposal Brownies

I'm making my world famous "proposal" brownies tonight. We are having dinner with some friends this weekend and we were asked to bring dessert. I found the recipe in my mom's old recipe box years ago. The most important recipes were kept in her blue gingham cookbook, the pages covered in a mix of my mom's hand writing and my grandmother's. The recipes she saw from a magazine or the newspaper that caught her eye? Those ended up in the newer tin. Not to be confused with the older tin that had hand written recipe cards from friends. The world we used to live in feels so at odds with the way we live now, doesn't it?  Now, I google everything and pick the recipe that looks best! I don't even read the reviews!! Back then, you knew the recipe was probably good if it was hand written on a card; the probability increased if the recipe card had food stains on it. 

I don't know where the brownie recipe truly came from. It might have been a friend, but I can't recall if there was a name on it. I do remember that it was written on the side of a square tissue box. (It was that, or the back side of a greeting card. The truth might be lost on this one.) Simple recipe, very few instructions. Butter. Sugar, Vanilla. Eggs. Flour. There was a time in my life when I made them so frequently that, even though I always pulled the recipe card out, I never needed it. The recipe moved with me when I graduated college. At one point, the recipe made it into the Notes app on my iPod Touch as a back up, something I'm grateful for because eventually I misplaced the card. However, somewhere in the last 10 years, that iPod crashed and I've been unable to restore it. I panicked, thinking all was lost. I found it in an email draft and it is now replicated in my iPhone Notes app, the instructions almost completely removed.

I don't know when I started making them, but my earliest memory is of them being the biggest hit in my church youth group. This is also where they got their name. It was James, because, of course it was. James was 4 years younger than me, so we didn't always run in the same circles, but I guarantee you knew a James. Loud (bless him). Silly. The first person to make you laugh because he never stopped joking around. He was the energy behind everyone. Played drums (again, because of course he did). Again, how it started, I'll never remember, but I have a vivid memory of him, walking down the church hallway with a mouth full of brownie asking me to marry him. 

Now. There is a small chance that this is an amalgamation of memories. The main reason I say this is because the church had a pretty strict policy about food in other parts of the church that were not the Fellowship Hall. Nevertheless, it is the memory I will continue to keep. 

This brownie marriage proposal joke was perpetuated for what felt like years, though I can't really remember how long it went on for. It was a joke that James told. It was a joke that James' friends told. It was a joke that James' mother started telling (to this day, I'm still not sure how much of it she believed and how much of it she repeated because it made everyone laugh). I became very secretive of my recipe, to the point where I would kindly refuse to share the recipe with even close friends. Select friends received the recipe (on a recipe card to put in the Very Important Recipe Box) and a bag of chocolate chips as a wedding present. 

James died 14 years ago almost exactly. It's funny, the last few years have passed by with just a small blip in my heart every March. The first five years were excruciating. 

I wonder who James would have married. Would she have minded if we were all friends still who joked about getting married to each other (even though there was never much of a chance of that happening. Sorry bud.) Would I have given her the brownie recipe if only because it was James? What would he make of MY marriage? 

Remember how I said James was 4 years younger and I didn't run in his circle too much? That all changed after he died. Our friend group got smaller and closer. Suddenly, I was a college graduate hanging out with and enjoying spending time with college freshmen. It didn't seem to bother us, though. And then, by some weird twist of fate,  one of those college freshmen started to fall in love with me. I was very much against it, for the record. I did not make things easy for him. But we became friends. Good friends. Genuine friends. 

And, as they say, one thing lead to another, and well, here we are. Married for almost 11 months. And I can almost hear James laughing at it all.

 The brownies don't get made nearly as often as they used to these days. Sugar is, of course, the enemy. Carbs are the enemy. Chocolate is the enemy. Take your pick of whatever health craze is in vogue at the moment. They are only made for special events because if I made a pan of brownies for myself I would eat the entire pan too quickly. My self control is just not that good. (And I don't think my husband's is any better.) 

 I don't think the brownies brought me my husband. I don't think he married me for my brownies, even though he is a massive fan. But they did help me make friends and brought laughter and joy into my life, and I'll never forget it. Not for one single day. 

 

P.S. I wrote this blog more than a year and a half ago. I find myself making my brownies again and I remembered that I wrote this and never published it. I'm very out of practice (both baking and writing) and I'm feeling the awareness of that as I get ready to hit "publish". I've probably edited this piece more than any other piece I've ever written (including my senior thesis in college), but it still feels like something is missing. It feels unresolved. The grief is still there, when I think about and remember James. Marriage is still new in areas. Life keeps going. We wake up each day and try again, grateful even in the darkness of the season to be given a new day. 

Maybe that is why this post feels unresolved -- the story isn't over. Each day adds more chapters to the story and I'm waiting for the resolution of all the questions and unknowns to unfold. It's like the last few chapters of the murder mystery novel (The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman, of late) where all the pieces fall into place, connections are made, motives revealed, and justice is served, if you are very lucky. Or maybe I'm just wildly out of practice and that's the reason it feels like something is missing. Maybe the feeling will go away after I publish; maybe it won't. Maybe five posts from now it will feel better. That's the thing with stories-- you need to eventually turn the page if you want to find out what happens next. This is me, turning the page. 

P. P. S. When you find a good recipe, do your future self a favor and write it down or print it out. I went to look for a recipe on a website that I have been using for the last few years and it was just gone. Poof. I got a 404 error and my heart sank. The internet is wild and wonderful, but much more wild these days and the days are not long enough to continually look up new recipes for something you love only to have your heart broken. So please, write it down. Save it. I'll even buy you a binder or tin to keep them in. 

 

 

A Thrill of Hope

I've being following along with She Reads Truth advent devotionals this year. There's a whole thing about me wanting to purchase this beautiful bound book that they put together (with all the advent readings, artwork, scripture, etc.) but just couldn't justify the price, but then a friend reminded me that it is all online for FREE so...here we are. 

The reading today talked about hope and joy. How hoping for things at times seems too painful because of disappointment in the past. Man, I felt that. There have been so many times in my life, past and very recent present, that I have been intensely disappointed. 

Betrayed.

Let down. 

Abandoned.

Hope seems useless when things keep blowing up in your face. Looking forward to good things seems pointless because of that tiny annoying voice (that eventually gets louder than you can bear) that says you don't deserve good things.  

In Luke 1:13, Gabriel appears to Zechariah and tells him such news that Zechariah has trouble believing it: "Do not be afraid,Zechariah, because your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you will name him John."

The story isn't new to me, but the thing I noticed when I read it this time was that Gabriel said "Your prayer has been heard." Could he be talking about an old prayer from a young Zechariah and a young Elizabeth? That's always been what I thought. But this time...what if it was a prayer that Zechariah became too used to praying that he forgot he was saying the words? Or what if his faith was so strong that he continued praying for a son, even past the age when it should be possible, because he believed that God could do mighty and miraculous things? 

Your prayer has been heard. 

You are not betrayed. You have not been let down. 

You have not been abandoned. 

Later in the story, after we find out Elizabeth is pregnant and has been secluded for five months, she says, "The Lord has done this for me." (Luke 1:25) She knows. This is no small wink from heaven that might have something to do with her story. This is a very personal event that tells her that God heard her prayer, saw her want, and gave her a son. 

A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices. For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn. 

Ya'll I am tired. This year has been exhausting. That tiny thrill of hope in my soul keeps burning out. I'm afraid to let it in because of all the hurt that has happened. In this waiting time of Advent, I keep reading about Emmanuel, God with us. Fulfillment of prophecy. And I keep coming back to that phrase: a thrill of hope the weary world rejoices. This hope, this Jesus--is enough to make the weary rejoice. And from great personal experience, when you are world weary, not a lot makes you rejoice.  

May that thrill of hope be enough for you this season to say that prayer one more time, to ask God that impossible thing that he has put in your heart. Maybe even to pray a prayer for a situation that seems hopeless, one that you can't see a solution for. 

That thrill? I'm not sure it's very big. It's the goosebumps on your arms, the flutter in your stomach. 

But it is enough.

Everything I Need

I want a lot of things. I'm sure I'm not alone in this.

If you look at my Target, Ulta, or Amazon wish list, this will be clear to you (if not a little embarrassing to me).

I go through my day thinking of things I want: more sleep, more tea or coffee (or another Moka pot of coffee, which is my new favorite thing), more couch time, more TV time, more cleaning time. Okay maybe not so much that last one. But you get the idea. More time.

As I was craving more sleep time (which I'm still kinda blaming on jet lag to alleviate the guilt of sleeping my only free day away...), I found this on Instagram.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by The Gospel Project (@gospelproject_) on Apr 5, 2019 at 5:00am PDT

This is a familiar verse. I learned it in pre-school. It is often quoted at funerals. I learned it "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want." I grew up and learned that "want" meant more than just "desiring things," which I think was hard for me as a child. The Bible says I shall not want! Here it could also mean "I lack nothing," which is also a little hard to process.  Today, the translation caught me off guard. I have what I need. 

I'm not sure how many times I've looked back on a day and said, "I had everything I needed today." If I had to guess, I'd say never. Don't we always want more out of a day? But this verse, with beauty and simplicity, says that with God as my shepherd, I have what I need. Excuse the short grammar lesson here, but the semicolon that connects these two phrases tells us that they are closely related. They go together.  If, then. If God is my shepherd, then I have what I need. 

Like I mentioned, I'm a little jet lagged. Traveling all the way to New Zealand and back will do that to you, I guess. Since I've been back, I've been thinking a lot about what I have and what I don't have.  I have a place to live and closets full of clothes. After living out of a carry-on suitcase for two weeks, I feel overwhelmed with clothing choices. (Is that going to stop me from going shopping today? It is not.) I have a job. Actually, I have two jobs. I have good friends and family (and friends who are like family). 

But even in all that, there are still things I feel I want. And in the same way that I feel overwhelmed with my clothing choices now that I'm back, the wants of my heart started to overwhelm my mind. 

So this morning, reading that in God I have all that I need, my heart could finally rest. It's okay to have wants and desires, I know this. It says in Psalm 37:4 "Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart." The New Testament tells us that our Heavenly Father gives good gifts to those who ask (Matthew 7:11). 

I won't stop asking. I won't stop chasing after God, delighting in the things he has already given me. 

But today? 

Today He is my shepherd; I have everything I need.  

Progress, not Perfection

I know I've said it before, more times than I can count, but it always surprises me when I see it happen. You know what I'm talking about? When everything in your life -- sermons, friends, devotionals, that guy on the radio -- points to a truth you needed to hear? 

Sometimes you need to hear a truth a lot before it actually sinks in. At least, I do. 

Last week, one of my #100DaysToBraveSummer devotionals had Psalm 139:14 as the verse of the day. 

"I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well."

Such a popular verse, heavily quoted, and with good reason. But a few months ago, I found that I loved verse 16 even more, though I hardly ever saw it quoted.

"Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be."

Imagine my surprise when I saw it on a slide during a recent sermon. Okay, Pastor. You have my attention! Actually, the whole sermon caught my attention. Not only had my pastor used my new favorite verse, he continued the whole "say yes to God" theme that Annie has been teaching us from Day 1. How do you become brave? Start saying "yes" to God. Don't wait until the fear goes away. Don't wait until you feel equipped. Say "yes" to what God has next. 

Y'all, I needed to hear that. 

The beginning of June started out okay, but by week two? I was overwhelmed, anxious, a little terrified, and very exhausted. Because I still hadn't carved out a specific time for doing 100 Days to Brave, I missed a lot of days. And even though Annie told us from the beginning to just jump back in when we miss days, that rule-follower-God-won't-listen-if-you-mess-even-just-a-little-bit part of my brain has me feeling like a failure. It starts to tell me that I HAVE to finish the days I missed BEFORE I jump back in. Like I've let Annie down, like I won't be "fully brave" if I skip those days. 

How crazy is that? 

I'm listening to a Matt Chandler series on James while I get ready for work these days, and one of my favorite things he says in the series is that we are working on progress, not perfection. He says it in almost every sermon and I'm so glad he does. It is slowly becoming something my brain spits out at me when I start feeling down about things. Progress, not perfection. Progress, not perfection. 

Repetition is used throughout the Bible to emphasize importance. I don't think it's a stretch to say that hearing truths repeated in different ways, in different areas of your life is used for the same purpose. If you are hearing truths repeated, listen. Tell someone what you are sensing from God and ask them to pray with you or for you. Sometimes saying things out loud helps YOU hear it better, too. 

P.S. Case in point? I had to retype this entire post just to get it to publish. Okay, God. I see you. Progress, not perfection. 

P. P. S. We are halfway through #100DaysToBraveSummer but it is NOT too late to join in! Grab a copy and jump in. July 27th is Day 61. And I'm pretty sure I'm going to turn around and run the devotional again. It is that good, I promise. 

#100DaysToBraveSummer

This post started last Tuesday on one of my other social media outlets and as I continued to type I realized that maybe it was a blog post instead of an update. I'm a little rusty so if it feels a little disjointed, that's because it is. 

What happened last Tuesday that started this blogging idea again? 

Annie Downs. You know, like usual. 

Way back in 2015 (good gracious, has it been that long?) I was working my way through Annie's book Let's all be Brave. I still haven't made my way through it, just in case you were wondering. She later released a devotional called 100 Days to Brave, but since I still haven't finished her other brave book, I didn't think I could pick up her new one. Days turned to weeks and I forgot about all of it. 

I did a search on my blog and somehow only mentioned Annie three times on here? Anyway, I feel like we are friends since we share a love for Scotland (and of the three blog posts, two of them mention Annie in conjunction with Scotland so...) and she turned me on to my resurrected summer music obsession, The Lone Bellow. She speaks my language in so many things and I don't feel so alone in the struggle. Her words challenge me, which is how I got into this whole thing in the first place. 

So when she started #100daystobravesummer read along last week, I thought I would be safe following her first week on Instagram and then moving on with my life. Except, because it is Annie you guys, I read the first two days and decided that this was something my heart needed. I need to be reminded, and more than just on Sunday morning, that I was created to be brave and created for a purpose. I need to be reminded that no one lies to me quite like I do (okay, that one was a Matt Chandler quote, but Annie talks about it too!). And that in order to combat the lies you need to KNOW and BELIEVE the truth about yourself, the truth that Jesus says about you. 

And that is how I started my 100 Days to Brave. 

Sometimes it is hard. Sometimes there are great truths that make me want to camp out on a single day for about a week. Each day feels big and weighty and that alone is intimidating to me. But Annie says we were created to be brave, so I guess I'm going to keep at it. I'm going to try blogging through this summer, mostly because I miss it. I miss creating in the way that feels most natural to me. And hey, diving into a blog that's been on snooze for the last six months is a little brave, right? 

PS If you want to join me, grab a book and dive in! We started on Memorial Day so Tuesday, June 5th puts us on Day 9. 

Finding Joy

I'm grabbing a few moments on this cold Sunday while my tea is too hot to drink and the library is temporarily settled. (Moments like this are few and far between these days!)

I say it every year: finals is simultaneously my favorite and least favorite time of the semester. This year is no exception. Last week was the last week of classes. It was hectic and stressful and was the first time I had a student cry on me about a grade. (The test was taken again, a better grade was achieved, everyone is doing great.)

This week, exam week, is sometimes easier, though not without its own stresses. There is last minute research (that probably should have been done a few weeks ago), last ditch efforts to write 4 papers in three days, and attempts to cram everything you learned all year onto ONE cheat index card. Of course the biggest concern on student's minds is, 'What if the library runs out of snacks before everyone is done studying?!" Don't worry, y'all. I've got popcorn and cookies coming out of my ears. We will be just fine. 

The first few hours today were busy, but honestly? Oh man I loved them. I got to connect with a few of my regulars as well as some of my Exam Regulars.

There was a moment today when I looked at myself and said, "Girl, you LOOK happy."  Feelings are sometimes unreliable in their ability to help you understand the world around you. They are real because they are part of your experience, but sometimes yeah, unreliable. But today, in that moment? My feelings and my reality were the same: I WAS happy. 

It's been a hard year. Not even touching my personal life, work has had more than a few ups and downs. I had three different bosses this year, not to mention an interim person to report to, as well as staff changes at Old Navy. I saw student workers graduate; I had a new batch of student workers start this fall. I had really productive months, and I've also had some really unproductive months. Isn't life a balance anyway? 
So to be able to stop and recognize a good day, I mean, a really good day? I love it. 


As we step into the second week of Advent, I'd like to encourage you to notice those moments. Notice the moments that leave a smile on your face and peace in your heart. 

They might be when you are at work doing what you absolutely love. 

They might be when you finally get home from work to the people that you love. 

And if you have to create your moment? Go for it. Make yourself a cup of tea and turn on that Christmas music.

Notice when you are using your gifts to serve others. 

Look for peace. Recognize joy when you see it. Call them by name and take a moment to be grateful for the gifts that don't need to be wrapped in colorful paper.

Some Sunday School Thoughts

(I'm going to start this post like I haven't been MIA for the last few months and jump right in and trust that we are friends enough for you to forgive me. Thanks in advance.)

We are halfway through our two part Sunday School class discussing Lee Strobel's Case for Christ and Case for Creation books. The Case for Christ I'm more familiar with, though I'm not sure when I would have actually gone through it. I have the book he wrote and dug it out to read at the recommendation of a friend, in conjunction with the class. (I'll confess right now that I also accidentally picked up Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchet's Good Omens around the same time. Guess which one I finished? Yeah, if you guessed the book that would be least relevant to my Sunday school class, you would be correct.) I've missed the first two classes for Case for Creation so I wasn't really sure what to expect in class. I was blown away by some of the intelligent explanations about creation and how some experts talk about creation ex nihilo and scientific evidence in the same breath without contradiction. I love that. At one point, someone in the class drew attention to the fact that "scientific theories change all the time any way!" in, what seemed to be, an attempt to discredit science and bring focus back on the consistency of the Bible. 

My non-scientific heart cried a little. I was reminded of something I read from C. S. Lewis over lent this season (and something I've heard from Matt Chandler a time or two) and eventually chimed in.

Lewis asks the following question: How can an unchanging system survive the continual increase of knowledge? He posits at one point that Christians have little to fear from the acquisition of new scientific knowledge. If we start with belief in the Bible's consistency and infallibility, we are then measuring science against it, not the other way round. But of course, science isn't necessarily consistent! Like the commenter in class stated, scientific theories can change. But (and here is the part I really love), Lewis says that wherever you see real progress in knowledge (or what I sometimes will call "new knowledge") there is some knowledge that is not superseded. 

New knowledge does not necessarily supersede old knowledge. 

I mean, isn't that just the best gift we as Christian's can be given when we are interacting with the scientific community? You want to tell me that this rock is a million years old? Matt Chandler says, "Awesome. Like, where did you find that?!" No, no wait! It's FIVE million years old! Again, Chandler says, "That is incredible!" 
Does the age of the rock change God's existence or my belief that he created the world? Nope. "But it went from one million to five million! That's a huge difference." Our understanding of the scientific world changes with every new discovery that is made. I mean, people once thought that the world was flat and you could sail off the edge. We are continually learning things about the world around us, things that maybe our ancestors never dreamed we would know. 

How do I not lose my faith when science starts telling me things about the world that the Bible doesn't mention? 

Easy.

My belief isn't in the scientific discovery of the day. My belief is in the One that crafted our universe out of nothing. The One who keeps a storehouse full of snow, waiting until the time is right to release it. Do I get excited when new discoveries are made? You bet I do! Y'all remember those 7 new planets they found earlier this year at only 40 light years away? If Earth is the only habitable planet, why did God bother making anything else in our universe? Was it so we could explore and learn about the created world? Did he do it just to show off? Or was it so we could see that the God who created the stars, the moon, the sun, and all the planets (known and unknown) created Earth uniquely and specifically for us? 

I know people sometimes think that because God is SO BIG he couldn't possibly be concerned about a single individual life in this world. But man, isn't that what he is showing us through nature? Of all the planets he created, he put humans on the only one that is able to sustain life. 

So let the rocks be seven million years old, let galaxies be discovered 400 light years away. Let your scientific theories change over time, becoming more accurate, more specific as knowledge increases. 

God still created the rock. 

Grace Is Not Proportional

Is it summer? Is it fall? Is it monsoon season?

We've had quite the change in weather the last few weeks. Don't get me wrong, I love a good hot summer day...but you know, I don't need to be sweating all day long to enjoy a day. These faux-fall days have been so refreshing. I'm not ready for fall just yet, but not being stuck in an oppressive sweat box (aka my apartment) has been really nice.

I'm still working on the Job stuff for you guys, but until I get there, I finally finished the book of Numbers! I never thought I'd be excited to say that. And it's not just because I'm glad to be done with it! It was tedious and long; it was also the first book I picked up a commentary for. And can I make a suggestion? Grab a commentary when you need one! Even if you don't agree with everything or even if you don't read the commentary entirely, it is super helpful to have another set of eyes when you are going over a confusing passage.

The more I read the Old Testament, the more I learn about God. I heard a Village pastor say that we need to change our approach if our main reason for reading the Bible isn't to meet God. That is why the Bible exists: to teach us about God. I am struck by the grace of God, even when Israel is disobedient. The entire book of Numbers up until Chapter 14 is about the Israelite's traveling to the land that God had promised them. We see rebellion and obedience, sometimes in the space of a chapter. And then, there they are! The edge of the promise land. The spies go into the land and bring back a report: "The land is rich, yes. But the people are powerful and huge. We look like grasshoppers to them! We can't attack them!"  Ten of the twelve explorers forgot that God delivered them from slavery and helped them cross the sea floor (while the Egyptians, their former masters, were thrown into the same sea to drown). They forgot that God fed them from nothing in the desert and gave them water from a rock. Their powerful God has provided for them time after time, but even when God tells them that he will give them the land, they get the heebie jeebies and run away scared.

God gives this rant about them, but nestled in Numbers 14 there is this beautiful verse: The Lord is slow to anger, abounding in love and forgiving sin and rebellion. Yet he does not leave the guilty unpunished.

Even in their disobedience, of which the consequence is not being able to enter the promise land, God wants to tell them that he is slow to anger and abounding in love. He could have wiped them out then and there, but he didn't. He could have wiped them out countless times before and after this event. One of the reasons he didn't? Moses prayed for them. It is shocking to me how many times Moses prays for his people, the people who complained non-stop through the desert, the people who complained that they would rather be back in Egypt as slaves than be stuck here in the desert "starving." He prays to God for those people. For those stiff necked disobedient people.
The other shocker? God actually listens.

There is still a consequence for their sin, but God let them live. They had feasts; they sacrificed at the Tent of Meeting. They got married, had babies. God continued to provide for them in the desert. He protected them when the elders of Moab and Midian sought out Balaam the seer to curse all of Israel. He made them successful when they went to war against the Midianites. The Israelites lived. For as long as they lived, they saw the faithfulness of God. How's that for a legacy? Their children learned from an early age that God was faithful and forgiving, but also very serious about obedience. Walter Riggans, the author of the commentary I read, put it this way: At heart [God] is gracious, but he is not to be played with.

God is faithful even when we are not. I almost want to say "especially when we are not." I think sometimes when we drop the ball or mess up, we expect others to treat us a certain way based on our failure. But God doesn't make proportional responses to our failure. He is faithful to his people because he made a covenant long before Moses was born. He is a God of his word, trustworthy in all things. His faithfulness has nothing to do with our failure but everything to do with his character.

The facts were these...

Oooff. 

Did January the last few months absolutely drain anyone else? I have been working on this post since mid to late February. Clearly, I did a great job with it.

This semester started off kinda rough. Lots of students forgot lots of things. Like how to use a library. It was a bit of an adventure helping students back on the straight and narrow, but I think we got there eventually. Semester ended last week, so things are starting to calm down a little bit. A handful of "my kids" graduated last weekend, including a two of my student workers. It was such a great moment for me to see them walk across that stage after four (or five) years of hard work. 

Life slowly returns to normal, whatever that is anymore. 

The end of January brought some emotional upheaval for me. Things are getting better every day, but man. It has been hard. (And yes, this one is still true almost four months later. Healing is a process.)

So, of course, I started reading the book of Job. 

I had a dear friend joke about how "uplifting" the book is and, lovingly, poke fun at my choice. I was afraid she was going to be right, but still, I pressed on. It was next, chronologically, in my reading plan anyway. Might as well just carry on.  

I think we all probably know the story of Job. Dude with seemingly the worst luck in the universe loses his family, his house, his possessions--eventually even his health-- all in the course of a single day. He and his friends sit around for like, 30 plus chapters, talking about all the terrible things that had happened, how God would only punish a sinner, not a righteous man like Job. Not the friends I would want with me during a terrible time in my life. Finally, and miraculously, God steps in and has a dialog with Job. Because of a lot of things, (Job's righteousness and love and devotion to God being part of it), God restores Job's fortune to him, double what he had at the beginning of the story.  

To be honest, I don't think I've ever read this book in its entirety. Sure, you grab the beginning and the end. That's where the meat of the story is if you are going to teach it in a classroom. But the stuff in between? Honestly, y'all, it blew my mind.

I hope to share some of that with you in the months to come. I've since worked my way through Exodus and Leviticus, and Habakkuk. It has been slow going, but in all of it, I still see God providing for his people, in all things. And through the semester and personal ups and downs of life, that has been an altogether encouraging thing to read. 

Happy *cough* New Year! (Achooo!)

Happy New Year friends! 
At the risk of sounding ancient, the more years I see, the faster they seem to roll by me. It seems impossible that it is 2017. Anyone else? 

Of course, I started the new year with a bang: sinus cold! I've been fighting something ugly for the past two weeks now and I have to say, I'm ready for it all to be over. I'm finally on the uptick I think. I hope. My house is a sea of tissues and half empty water glasses. My almost two weeks of vacation was spent putting a Laura-sized divot in the couch and finishing a few TV shows. Not all bad, but now that I'm finally starting to feel better, it is time to join the land of the living...and get to cleaning up the house. (And eventually back to running? I mean UGH but also, do I miss it? Mostly no. But a little yes, too.)

Christmas holidays weren't all bad of course, just intensely busy. Little and Big Sister (husbands and kids) were all able to come home for Christmas. It was loud, it was crazy, it was hilarious and I wish we could have had more time together. 

Guys. I finished that sweater that I've been working on for almost two years! I've already gifted it but I'll see if I can snag some pictures of it and share them with you. Without a big project like that in the background, I'm feeling a little ... sad? But it won't last for long because I'm working with a friend to make a blanket for her living room sofa. It involves a lot of math (that she does mostly. Thankfully.) and counting rows and such (that's mine). The exciting thing about it, though, is that it is something she and I designed together. The first time I'm truly working a large project with a self-designed pattern. I'm nervous but excited to see how it will turn out. I finished a bunch of other projects for Christmas presents and such, so I'm a little in-between knitting adventures. With the freezing weather we've been having lately, I have been in the mood to knit a warm hat for myself. I'm also halfway through a fingerless glove pattern, which besides the blanket, is my only current work in progress. It is a challenge with cables, so I'm in love. The biggest challenge is going to be adding thumbs to it. And well, I've never done that before and it is incredibly daunting. 

I keep track of my reading over at Scattered Wits, but if you were following, I didn't meet my reading goal last year. And I'm honestly doing okay with that. Yes, I was bummed. (Maybe more like a lot.) But one of the reasons I didn't finish was because the larger reading project I had going was reading through the New Testament in a year. That one? Yeah, that one I finished. It has taught me so much about Jesus and the way he asks his followers to live that it felt like I was learning about him for the first time. And Paul's letters have to be some of my favorite books in the New Testament. So this year, I reduced my reading challenge by half and will try to make it through the Old Testament. So that's my biggest challenge this year. I mean, besides the thumbs. 

We've had two snows so far this year. If I hadn't been sick and partially unable to breathe, I was seriously considering a snow walk. I've always wanted to do one of those. We had a light dusting today and there is a call for freezing rain tonight. The weather continues to be frightful, but it is off to work for me. (In the whole "being sick for two weeks," I haven't been cooking too much. Dinner tonight will be very interesting...)

A brand new year with so many new things to come. Some of them are planned. Most of them? Probably not. This year feels like a good year to be extra hopeful, to keep my eyes open and heart ready for whatever happens. New adventures. New friends. More old friends. More life. More joy. 

Once more onto the breach, dear friends, once more. 

The word of the day is SLEEP

Magically, I got up only a few minutes before my alarm this morning. I mean it probably had something to do with the fact that I was up until 3 AM but, you know, whatever. I didn't get a ton of work done but I did get to have lunch with my dear friend Heidi. For about the last two and a half years, I've been spending Wednesday mornings with her and her littlest. At the beginning, I was holding a sleeping baby so she could get some work done. Now, we eat, talk, make tea and generally talk about what is going on in our lives and hearts while Little Man runs around and plays. So while my house didn't get cleaned, my heart got so much refreshment. 

We are just about halfway through this whole extended hours thing for finals. Which means between tomorrow and the beginning of next week, no one will be getting much sleep. Actually, a lot of my students haven't been getting much sleep all week. I try not to come off too much like a mom because hey, I remember those days. I do.  I remember making coffee at 10 pm after the family had long gone to bed and I was tired of looking at the cursor blink on my screen at the top of an empty page. I was (and still am) a salty snack girl and would eat my weight in salsa and chips. I even remember lying to my mom about how much sleep I got. (Mom, I'm really really sorry. Those papers had to come before my mental and physical health.) "Wow," she would say at 6am, "you got up really early today. What time is class?" Oh um, well...Yeah I didn't shower last night because of the paper and so...I'm showering before class...oh hey I have to go now...."

Ahem. 

But anyway, I try to gently remind them that sleep is important. I sometimes even need to remind them to eat and drink water. But then I ask them about what they have going on tomorrow, the presentations and papers that might be due. And they share the things that are going on in their life. I get phone calls with emergency questions and last minute study room reservations. I try to send them off with another gentle reminder about the sleep thing and encouragement for the all the things that they have to do for the next day. 

You know I love it. I really do. But sometimes, it is exhausting. The days run together and my fridge somehow gets empty without me realizing it. I haven't done laundry since last week and the almost empty laundry basket in my room is now overflowing with stuff I have to put away or wash. And I think I was just so exhausted and stressed and ...

And I walked out of the office tonight, took off my heels and threw them in the garbage can. 

Suddenly, things didn't seem too terrible. Because, after all, life is too short for shoes that hurt your feet. 

Pre-Final Week Stress

Oof. 
Today is the first day of late nights at the office and I'm already beat. Ever since the clocks changed, I have been getting up a few hours before my alarm. I've been trying to take advantage of the extra knitting/reading/coffee/whatever time and today I'm regretting it. An all day cleaning extravaganza right into working late...I'm so tired. 
And why am I feeling MORE stressed than the students? 
I say it every year, and I promise I mean it, but I'll say it again: I love this time of year. I love talking to the students I see all semester long and even ones who only find the library in the last two weeks of semester. I love giving them a break from studying, letting them know someone actually does care if they get sleep or get the grade they wanted on that exam. But this year...I don't know. This year feels different. Maybe it is the stress coming right off of the Thanksgiving holiday straight into final crunch time. Maybe it is working every Saturday for the last seven weeks and knowing that I have at least 4 more to go before Christmas...and hey, it is almost Christmas. How did that happen?

And then to top off the day, a student at Ohio State ran over students with a car and then ran around campus with a knife. I had that sitting in my heart all day. Watching kids come and go, thankful that we weren't stuck inside, hiding from all the windows under our desks. What is happening to our world? My heart weeps for the students that are processing through this difficult situation. 

My head is spinning and I'm falling asleep at the computer. Maybe tomorrow will feel better. 

The Most Excellent Way

Summer is winding down and boy, do I feel it. Don't get me wrong, I am loving the heat (it is better than snow...), but I am thrilled that I'll be able to start wearing jeans again without worrying about passing out halfway through my day. Boots and scarves, sweaters and hats. Man. I love me some fall. 

But summer is Project Time at the office and I'm running out of time to finish all the things that need to get done before all the kids come back. And then there's the running that I've just kind of gotten back in the habit of and with my schedule change this week, I keep wondering how I'm going to keep that going strong. 
That's how life has been these last few months for me: busy. I'm trying to crush it all in and sometimes it works. Sometimes I get laundry and the dishes done, clean up the house and even have time to get together with some friends. And then there are days when I'm stopping for my first cup of coffee on my way to work. Exhaustion. Frazzled nerves. I don't know how I can keep it together. 

And then I was reading 1 Corinthians 13 today. Wow. Talk about a shot to the heart. Paul says that even if you are the smartest person in the room, have incredible faith or give to the poor--if it is done without love IT DOESN'T MATTER. 

I'm over here trying to do it all, be super single woman, but I think I've forgotten love. Paul goes on to say that love is not rude, it doesn't envy, and it is not self seeking. Rather, love is patient and kind. It keeps no records of wrong, and delights in the truth. Love is the only thing that will last in the end. 

In the busy of trying to get it all done, sometimes I forget that there are people on the other side of my demands. That should affect the way I behave, shouldn't it? 
Around us we see others use people as step stools to their own greatness, not worrying about the people they hurt in the process. But if we are kind, doesn't that make us doormats? Meek and submissive? 

Maybe? Is that always such a bad thing? Like I've said before, I don't have all the answers. But I was reminded that even if I have everything in order, all parts of my life (including my faith) in order but don't have love, it doesn't matter. Living without love seems to be a waste, then. And who wants to live a wasted life? 

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

1 Corinthians 13:13

Times of Refreshing

Good gracious. Can ya'll believe this heat wave? I've been saying special thank you prayers for the air conditioners at work and in my car.

Believe it or not, even in this heat, I've picked up my knitting needles early. All of a sudden, the thought of waiting until fall to start crafting was too much to handle. I finished 1.5 hats in the last month or so. They are so easy to work up and finish, so it's a real boost to my crafting confidence. (The fact that I'm making them for a ministry at church also helps. It is difficult for me to get involved in church things because of my schedule, so being able to help out this way is very refreshing.)

I'm also tantalizingly close to finishing my first sweater. When I started the project, I had every intention and hope to finish it in the winter months. However, obviously this is now July and I'm still not finished. I will confess, the smaller the ball of yarn gets, the more nervous I become. Will I have enough? With any luck, I can finish before the cooler weather gets here. Possibly my first and last sweater, but never say die.

Last weekend, I was able to take a little time off and join my family for vacation. It has been at least five years since I was able to join them at our usual vacation spot. I forgot how peaceful it was. I took my camera along with every intention of taking a long walk and lots of pictures. Instead, I'm sharing two shots with you and they were taken by my three year old niece. I was just fooling around, taking a few pictures of her brother trying to steal bacon from my dad's breakfast plate (which was the cutest thing in the world, by the way). She wanted to try and so I showed her what to do. She took one of me and my mom and one of my dad. Of course, she insisted on seeing them right away. The glories of digital cameras. I'm not thrilled with how I look, but my precious, precocious, darling girl took them and well, I'm pretty impressed with her.

The vacation didn't last too long (for me anyway) and it was back to work the next day. However, due to lack of cream for my coffee and ready food in my fridge, I found myself up very early on Tuesday morning, armed with a cup of black coffee, heading to the grocery store. I went to my parent's house to do a few things for them and then sat down with my coffee on the back porch and pretended I was on vacation still. I sat on the of the porch, with a few bright rays of sunshine warning my feet. For almost a moment, I forgot I had to go to work in a few hours time. It was wonderful.

I try to capture that feeling on my dinner breaks at work now. I grab my food and bag (with either my book, my bible or my knitting) and trek across campus to a brick patio that tends to be pretty abandoned this time of year. There's a small fountain that helps block out some of the extra noise. It feels like work sometimes, to get everything ready and then move it all and then move it all back when my hour is up, but I tell myself that it's like a mini vacation -- from work, from my day, whatever I might need. And usually, that time away from the desk is exactly what I need.

I will confess that the running has taken a bit of a back burner. Of course I'm blaming the heat. It couldn't be at all that I hate running or sweating. Ahem. Anyway. With any luck, the heat will back off and I'll be back at it soon. (Though, if the heat wants to stay, that's okay too.)

It's Friday so that means my day is packed with both refreshing and non-refreshing things. It's the day I try to run all my important errands (grocery store, library, things I've been meaning to do for a long time but just haven't been able to find the time...) and then take care of boring things (laundry, cooking, dishes, general cleaning...). Friday is my one night for sure free through the week so I try to pack it full of friends and relaxing. Which sometimes makes the day feel long and exhausting, but you know,  in the best possible way.

Joy in snap-shot moments

Howdy ya'll. 

It's been a while, I know. These last six months have been rough. Some of it's the winter. Some of it is just life. I'm not going on grand adventures any more. (Well, not as much, any way.) Things have kind of settled into a bit of a routine and it is hard to see the new and wonderful things that happen when so many of my days feel exactly the same. 

But this weekend, I had a few of those really clear moments. You know what I mean? Those moments you want to take snap shots of and remember forever. And then I remembered. Those snap shot moments are the things that make life good. The moments you want to remember are sometimes just the every day things and they are just as good as those big adventure moments. 

Things like: 

Rocking my one year old nephew to sleep. He plays with the little tuft of hair above his ear as he falls asleep and it's just the most precious thing I've ever seen. 

Receiving knock-you-over hugs from my niece. She's decided we can be friends again (after a few weeks of not wanting to talk to me) and I absolutely love it. She also likes to try on my pink 4.5 inch heels and "walk" around the living room. Lord, give me strength. 

Standing outside under the stars watching fireworks. It's a simple pleasure, watching fireworks, but it always feels like magic to me. My heart always wants to call out, "More fireworks, Gandalf!" 
(Bonus: listening to those songs that make you proud of your country while watching fireworks makes me a puddle of emotions and tears. Just me?)

Getting giant hugs from kids that adopted me as aunt and that moment they don't get up and fall asleep on my lap. I am "Lulu" to a hand full of kids (young and older) and it is my absolute pleasure to hear them yell my name. 

Noticing that orange-pink color thing that seems to only happen in a sunset. Have you ever noticed this? The sky will do this amazing kaleidoscope of colors, the perfect shades of pink and purple and orange. It almost seems like a waste, to have such a perfect sunset one moment and POOF! gone the next. But I wonder if it isn't God's way of telling us, "Yes, today was good. Picture perfect almost. But now it's time for another day. Watch out-- you won't believe what's coming!"

I get so hung up on getting things perfect. Do you? It's a hard habit to break. But watching the sunset last night...I don't know. It reminded me that at the end of the day, the sky is wiped blank. All that beauty is there for a moment and it is gone. But if we are allowed to see a new day, who knows what wondrous things await us?

'Tis the Season

Even though the world as a whole tends to take a collective breath around Thanksgiving and Christmas, what with days off and such, my life tends to get a little busier than usual. Once I hit Thanksgiving I know finals are just around the corner. My schedule changes at school, so that throws me off; things at the store start getting crazy right after Halloween and continue to be crazy until mid-January. 
Needless to say, by the time Christmas comes around I'm ready to beg, borrow or steal just to get some time off to rest. Oh, but then there is shopping. And cleaning. And wrapping presents. And did you remember to do office gifts? Are you out of coffee? For like a week? Do you remember the last time you did laundry?
I've written about it before and I'm sure I will do it again next year. I feel totally out of spirits and almost like I need to turn my Christian card in, but Christmas is hard for me as an adult. 
 
Growing up, I LOVED Christmas. So much. I would start listening to Christmas music in July. JULY, people. I mean I see it now, that's a little crazy. But I couldn't get enough of Christmas carols and the warm memories that Christmas would bring for me. Twinkle lights and candy canes, sugar cookies and Christmas trees-- these were things I loved. I don't know if it the stress of finals and end of term papers and grades that I suffer vicariously through my students or the whole retail mess (that I promise I am still thankful for) but somewhere in there, I get so downtrodden. Could I please just have a break?!
I had my annual "Christmas is overwhelming me and I know it shouldn't be!" meltdown on Friday (sorry Jen) and after some hugs and love from mom (thanks Mom), I think I started to calm down. 

 Saturday saw another busy day at the store, which is par for the course, especially as it was the last Saturday before Christmas. But since it was Saturday, it also meant that I could cross one more thing off my to-do list: stop at Jo-Ann's for the needles I needed to finish a Christmas present. They had exactly what I needed and I think I found myself skipping back to the break room for the second half of my break. I got a lot of odd looks from my co-workers and one even commented, "Wow. You are really REALLY happy." And then I realized. I was happy. I was excited about SOMETHING. And I liked it. 

So even though I really was half-asleep this morning getting ready for church (I guess that is what happens when you spent 1.5 hours finishing a knitting project and feeling so pleased that you just.can't.fall.asleep...) I was excited to get to church. And even though I didn't drink enough coffee and got there a tad late, I was glad to be there. And even though I had to leave to go to work (to sit in a very QUIET library), I got to sing some Christmas carols with my people. And like the giant nerd that I am, found myself crying. THIS is where my heart longed to be. Not at work or running around getting stressed out, but with my church family, with my actual family. Making time to sit and sing and learn. And maybe that's the key: MAKING time. I kind of expect Christmas spirit and joy to just happen. In the crazy traffic and cranky customers, I just expect joy to be sprinkled on my like fairy dust. 

But that can't be right, can it? In today's sermon, Pastor Tim made a very interesting point. We hear it every year: In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world...and everyone went to their own town to register. We read and think, "Yes, okay. This needed to happen because of prophecy and we know that God keeps his word. Of course this makes sense." But stop for a moment and consider: taking a census takes TIME. It wasn't a whim. Caesar didn't just wake up one day and decide, "Census! Great idea!" God gave him the idea IN ENOUGH TIME for him to think it was his own idea (probably. God is sneaky like that sometimes.), talk to his advisers, and get the word out. And then enough time for word to go out to the entire Roman world. And enough time for everyone to hear it. Enough time, now that people know, to pack and make arrangements to go home. AND, of course, it all has to coincide with Mary's pregnancy so that Jesus will be born in the right place at the right time. This isn't magic, ya'll. This is a carefully planned historical event. If you want to have a good party, let God plan it. 
Anyway. I digress. The thing is, if the first Christmas took planning and lots of preparing, what makes us think that every other Christmas won't require the same amount of planning? 

So with that in mind, I'm going to prayerfully and mindfully prepare for Christmas. Not just by putting up the tree and lighting my Jack Frost candle (plus, I've already done that), but by choosing joy and choosing to make time to focus on the sacrifice that Jesus made by leaving Heaven to come to earth.
And right now, choosing joy looks like making a cup of tea to warm my fingers and my heart. Nothing speaks comfort like a cup of tea! 
I hope you remember to choose joy this week! 

But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause GREAT JOY for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord."

Luke 2:10-11