just in case I ever forget...

remind me that life is meant to be shared with others.

remind me that my experiences are not just for me alone.

remind me that the beauty I see in nature, someone else needs to witness.

remind me that I am also here to share this truth with others.

remind me, just in case I try to go into the wild.

restoration

At my office, we took a "strengths" test to better understand one another and ourselves in our working, professional environment. One of my five was "Restore". I like that word, rather enjoy it actually. It does fit me. I enjoy putting puzzles together, repairing broken items. As a matter of fact, one of my biggest annoyances is being in a situation in which I can't "troubleshoot" my way out of, one in which I cannot fix.

In fact, some of my most painful memories are ones in which I watched things crumble before me as I watched helplessly. I firmly believe in restoration, reconciliation, putting Humpty Dumpty back together again. (Am I the only one who hated the part of the story in which he fell, irrevocably broken forever?)

I am also blessed to have examples of that kind of restoration taking place. For example, my relationship with my own mother. While not perfect, we have an amicable relationship. One would not look at us, and have any sort of idea that there previously existed a chasm between us. I grant this sort of reconciliation to Providence.

But, what happens when things don't get put back together again?

I am getting used to the idea that not all things get restored. it's just not that simple.

but, there is beauty in hope, hope that something can be restored, even if it's not the exact way I had originally pictured.

--may I have the eyes to imagine a new picture--

what a mother might do for a child

I just finished reading a book by Jodi Picoult titled, The Pact. Essentially it is a love story. a love story between a boy and girl. a love story between friends. a love story between a parent and his/her child.

I have thought these last few months how easy it is for parents to stand by their child, even during the most difficult of circumstances. I understand that there are bonds there, that no one can break. I also sometimes wonder about the length a parent may go in protecting one's child.

Would I lie for my child if I thought it would ultimately save him/her in the end. Would I lie to my child to prevent them from experiencing pain?

In no way, am I a mother. But, I think I have an understanding of the role a mother has, a very limited one, albeit. I can understand how a mother can stand by her son, believing him, trusting him, standing by him. And since it's something I can at least fathom, I should not be shocked when a mother will stand by her side even if there's evidence promoting an entirely different truth than the one he may reveal to her.

He is flesh of her flesh, bone of her bone.

(side note: how comforting it must have been for Jesus, even while under excruciating pain, to see his mom there, defending her son, believing in her son, trusting her son, until the very end.)

a mighty heart

i just finished watching a movie regarding the kidnapping of Daniel Pearl, and his wife's quest to find him...I remember reading about an interview with Angelina Jolie during the filming of the movie. I was instinctively glad she was doing a movie like this. I was glad the movie was being made.

After watching this difficult portrayal, I am still glad the story was told. It is definitely not a touchy, feel good kind of movie. It doesn't have that sort of fairy tale ending.

It should be watched. It should be discussed. It should spark something in all of us. It made me realize, if I haven't before, that there are two kinds of reporting...There's the sort of reporting that one does in discussing what a celebrity had for breakfast. Then there's another sort of reporting. It's the kind a person may risk one's life for...the kind that ends up on the news trying to explain what a terrorist's motive(s) could have been on 9/11....

I understand that journalism can have it's own slant, and that there's not really any unbiased news anymore. Everyone wants their viewpoint represented. I am just grateful that there are people out there who still choose to do the kind of reporting that matters. For it is far more lucrative to report sensationalism.

telling stories...

...here will be rambling at its finest...

Is it wrong to want to be famous? I don't want to be the sort of Paris Hilton/Brittney Spears sort of famous, but the kind that's under the radar, non-glamorous, almost unimportant. I have been feeling lately that I want to share stories, individuals' stories that might not otherwise make it on paper.

how does one go about doing this? and is this a silly request? I am no journalist. I am no reporter. I am not capable of such things. So, the question is where is this coming from? this strange desire that makes no sense to me....

It seems to be driving me as of late. I can't escape it even when I try to diminish the thought by rationalization...explaining that I am not cut out for such kind of work, detailed, literary. This kind of work requires someone perhaps smarter than I am, one with an education, experience,etc. yet, this feeling of "storytelling" is still there. It does not escape....

these are the reasons why I wish i could meet myself 5, 10, 0r 20 years from now...I want to see what this hickish, small-town girl is doing with her life...what has she accomplished?

maybe the story is just a simple one of having a little money, great friends, and just some local interests(dancing, volunteering, etc)

if so, why all these outlandish thoughts in my head??? maybe I just like telling stories to myself to feel better about my lack of vision....hmmm....

alive and well

thankfulness...be thankful...those are the words that I remember hearing from a woman when I prayed for deliverance from my past...that sort of charismatic deliverance that meant you didn't walk the same, act the same, talk the same anymore...You've been delivered and changed...

As I think of today, I think that i while I am somewhat lonely, I have no reason to be...I am loved by others, and I hope to love them as well in return.

One year ago I was lying on a couch, confined to staying in bed recovering from a car accident. I was lonely then to, but appreciative to simply be alive.

Even many years before that, on Thanksgiving day, I found myself in a home of a "high society" 90 year old woman who took me back in time, through stories, pictures, and architecture, for she boasted that she had designed the blueprints of her home all by herself. She in fact mentioned these stories more than once....That thanksgiving is the one I still cherish most after all this time. I could see that we were the only ones visiting her that day, no one else, and all we were doing were bringing her some cold leftovers.

I am still thankful to be alive, but I want to "live" like that 90 year old woman...she was truly alive.

slow cooker

it seems that everything in my life is progressing slowly...slower than I had hoped... I am not a huge fan of crock pots...the waiting....it never really appealed to me....except in the fact that I was doing other tasks while it was cooking... That's a bit how I feel now. I am working, spinning, surviving...and my outcomes arrive slowly. So slow in fact, it almost seems as though nothing is really happening at all.

sundays

Because I live in the South, it's pretty common for individuals to go to church on Sundays. I realize that I feel a void when I have a chance to go, but don't. I enjoy going, as awkward as it is going by myself, with no one to join me. I have been going to the same place off and on for just over a year now. Every Sunday I am surprised by the place. You see, it's in the middle of an affluent community...and very...um...how shall I say...er...white...yep. It's not quite the same as the place I've formally joined. It's almost boring in comparison as far as the services go. And you'd think that in going this whole time, I would have figured out if it's truly my fit or not. It's like I just cannot commit to the idea of "membership"... I have been a member of a place of worship before, so what's the big deal? What's my hangup?

If I could pinpoint one thing, I would call it fear...there's this fear of commitment...what happens when I commit to this body, and something happens that cannot be restored? I have been rocked to the core by incidences in the past involving people I love and cherish, people who found themselves on opposite sides, not able to reconcile. I am afraid that I will fail this place. I will not be able to give, to serve...You see, serving is my love language....or at least my top 3. I sometimes feel as though I live to serve...

The church I attend now started this prayer list for congregants to sign up a half hour slot to pray for the leaders of the church. I signed up for it...a time perfectly coinciding with my work schedule. Did I remember to pray? ummm...no, not so much. now, I know, don't condemn myself for one little mishap. But, then I think of what I can actually give, and what I've given(or haven't given) to this body, and it is not much. I've been around long enough to know that the church is not just there to serve me; I am here to ask the question of what can I do for this body, with this body, etc.

I do believe in community, in relationships, in living it out day by day with others who share the same faith. I know it can, has been, and will be messy. I am afraid of the mess...the kind of mess that's created from a fallen egg out of the carton. One cannot make a broken egg whole again.

So, as I think of my friend's very important day tomorrow, I am worried about my lack of decision. While I don't think that I will just never do it...I wonder how long I will take before I commit.

small reminders and surprises

Tuesday night, as I was driving home from a late shift, I started to cry. I have been emotional lately, and I am letting myself cry when I feel like it. I don't want to bottle everything up. I also don't want to be a blubbering mess in front of others...so I allow myself to "feel" on my way home...I actually was wanting to just escape. I don't know what my limit is...as far as trying to take care of everything...I don't know how much further I can go. So, I was praying for relief...and I also asked for some good things, unexpected things to happen this week. I wasn't wanting to complain...I just was thinking....this is getting close to being more than I could handle. So, here are a few "good" unexpected occurrences....

1. last night at SBUX was an easy close...we had enough people...it was fun again.
2. I came into said SBUX to get my morning coffee and was greeted with 2 hugs. XoXo.
3. I received two unexpected emails yesterday from friends I haven't seen as they've moved away.
   
4. I keep getting friend requests from others on my new facebook account. (instead of the other way around)
5. The sun was blindingly bright again this morning.(no really I do enjoy that!)
   

This has been really nice so far. At this time in my life, I definitely don't want to miss the reminders and surprises that pop up.

revealing writing

The results of your analysis say:

You fill every waking moment with activity.
You are a social person who likes to talk and meet others.
You are affectionate, passionate, expressive, and future-oriented.
You are a talkative person, maybe even a busybody!
You like standing out and making sure that people know your mind.

--I just filled out a handwriting analysis. I assumed that this was going to be some lame online test that I would just waste 10 or 15 minutes of my time only to find that it was actually dead on! How can asking a few simple questions about one's handwriting convey that person's personality so well? strange.....

overrated

www.unclaimedbaggage.com

-just in case you're wondering, this place did not exceed my expectations on Saturday. at least I was with good friends who definitely made the trip so much better!

off a rabbit trail...

there was once upon a time that I got myself into hot water financially speaking...well, I have since turned over a new leaf(don't you just love these idioms!). And wouldn't ya just know that the minute I start trying to be responsible is the moment when no one will even trust me....(shawn mullins please tell me what a beautiful wreck I am!)