Wordless Wednesday

Time Will Tell

When I first moved to Maryland in the Spring of 2007, I found a church that met at a high school a handful of blocks from where my apartment had been.  For reasons I can’t even remember today, I didn’t end up making that church my home and so started the journey that has brought me to where I am today.  But yesterday, after walking just a few blocks from my current apartment…I found myself at that very same church again.  They were having a celebration, because they are preparing to open their new building – not even a mile from where I live.

Yesterday I went to a wonderful women’s conference at a church that a friend of mine is very active in.  At the last minute she wasn’t able to attend with me, so I contemplated skipping it all together.  On Friday evening, a different friend came by for some girl time and to meet Malachi.  She’s a Christian as well so I confessed that I wanted to skip the event out of fear.  Together we agreed that would be a bad idea and discussed all the reasons why.  Then, Saturday morning she texted me to make sure I was up and getting ready to go.  The conference speaker was the best I’ve heard in a long time and I was blessed beyond measure by attending.

On the way to church this morning I was struck by two separate thoughts.  Bitterness that the man I was planning to marry just a few months ago, would be so impatient with me while I struggled to find myself here and the knowledge that I hadn’t yet returned the  paperwork for membership at my church, or the application to work with the youth group.  The thoughts converging on me at the same time where overwhelming and have distracted me for most of the afternoon.  This area I have moved to, it holds so much promise and opportunity for me.  I feel like a kid in a candy store, I can’t decide what I want to try first.  I can’t wait to jump in and experience all of it.  Be consumed by it, I want to be used by God here and to touch lives and be touched by lives.  I can’t wait!

But, I must.  Because God doesn’t work in my time, but his.  He loves me, so He might give me glimpses of all of these opportunities…but it’s my job to follow, not to run up ahead.  Because if I push too hard – if I am impatient and restless – then I may change the outcome of my efforts all together.  Something beautiful could be lost just because I couldn’t just wait.



It’s not easy, this waiting business.  But I know I have tools to do it.  I have prayer, I have people who love and support me and I have lots and lots of time – I have my whole life, if necessary – and I would rather see the miracles that result from God’s timing then the “ok” results from mine. 

So I will continue to put one foot in front of the other, here.  Continue to take each opportunity to meet people and share in experiences.  And just the same way that spring is already on its way - the Spring that will mark the fourth year of this adventure - when it arrives, I’ll be in a different place from where I am now.  I’m so curious to see where it will be, and what it will be like but for now I have to trust that it will come and it will be wonderful, because this time I gave it to God to develop.

Love y'all!
~M~

Wordless Wednesday

Blogger is disabling image uploads on Wednesday!  I'd have a window of time, but what with everything going on this week, I'm just gunna post early...(and make use of the fact I can use words lol)

How sweet it is!  Malachi was delivered to me at 4:00 on Sunday!  FedEx (finally) delivered his crate tonight...so now, he's been washed and clipped and dipped and we've sprayed every surface for rogue fleas from the other dogs he traveled with.  We've washed his special blanket and re-appropriated my bathroom from a make shift room for him and designated his corner in the dining room.  He refuses to sit in his sofa (smells like flea spray lol) so I'll have to replace it...but other then that, we're back in business...yaaaay!!

Love y'all,
~M~

Wordless Wednesday

(Subtitle: Can't Hardly Wait...! :)

Eat It Up

Tuesdays are Lemon Pepper Chicken day in the cafeteria.  It’s only been two months, but my co-workers already know what will be in my little to-go box when I come back to my desk on those days.  Occasionally, the cooks will get a wild hair (or maybe just some extra chicken) and make my beloved recipe on other days as well.  It hasn’t happened often, but just often enough to make me wonder what’s for lunch Wednesday through Monday…and then begrudgingly settle for the Orange Chicken booby prize.  Next week, my organization will begin the (labor intensive) relocation to a new building in a new city…far enough away from my current building to make Lemon Pepper Chicken Tuesdays completely unrealistic.  So I’ve been using my booby prize lunches as a means to remind me to relish what I have, when I have it.  Because someday, it could go away.

My job is kicking my butt.  But it’s doing it in the same way my Zumba class does.  I’m grunting and puffing and trying to keep up…but gladly coming back for more.  When I first got this job, work was scarce.  I diligently reported for duty and held down my chair everyday…while I surfed the web.  Work was delivered to me with little to no instruction and enough time elapsed between assignments that I wasn’t able to remember the process, recall what went where or determine what needed to be done.  Now, I’m the point person for a team and have to keep everyone else’s plates spinning as well as my own.  I like this much better, but on my busiest days, I do think back to “the good ol’ days” when I could message my friends on Facebook (or even make a doctors appointment with out feeling guilty) during work hours.

I have two dates scheduled for the same night.  I don’t know how this happened, but it did – and one is even a Christian.  It’s like Lemon Pepper Chicken two days in a row (lol)!  My dating history is hit or miss, so who knows if there will be a “love connection” with either of these men.  But, I’m not looking for a husband (yes I am, let’s keep it real, Mimi!) – ok, ok, I’m not actively interviewing for a husband.  At this phase in my life, I’m focusing on living life and enjoying life and experiencing whatever that means.  Hopefully, these goals will bring me a full and satisfying life as well as someone to share it with.  So I want to take particular care to enjoy the process – to relish it, because two dates in one evening might not always be situation normal for me.  Circumstances might take me away from such a social calendar the same way workload and geographic moves change my world.

I don’t like change.  I really, really don’t.  But it’s unavoidable.  Today as I scarfed down my Lemon Pepper Chicken while I pulled a file out of a moving box for my Intern and I tried to take a mental moment to enjoy.  To enjoy my chicken, to enjoy my busy job and to enjoy my current office and the way I know where everything is at.  Tomorrow, I’ll enjoy two dates (that still makes me grin, lol).  A time may come when I have no dates.  A time will definitely come when I have no more Lemon Pepper Chicken, and I’ve had enough new jobs to know that my web surfing days aren’t completely over yet. 

I want to make an effort to be aware and live in each present moment.  There is always a blessing in this present moment and I want to see it and absorb it and experience it to the fullest whatever it may be.  This present moment’s blessings might be different from the one before or after, but there’s still a blessing there.  Exhibit A: My office move will take me away from this addictive Lemon Pepper Chicken.  But it’s also putting me within walking distance to Georgetown Cupcake.  God is good!! :-D

Love y’all!

~M~

You Go Girl

This week, I celebrated two months back in Montgomery County and tomorrow will be two months at my new job.  And lemmie tell you, what a couple of months it’s been…!  I look around and nothing I see, is the way it was “supposed” to be.  Not only is everything different from what I imagined and planed it would be, but when I look in the mirror, even my reflection is different.  My hips are wider, and my FUPA is more determined than ever to conquer my profile.  My arms wave opposite of my hand and my “natural hair color” now starts far enough down my head that I’m giving myself away.  When M&M was discontinued, I went on a three week emotional hiatus – I allowed myself any form of comfort food (thereby establishing a new addiction to Monte Cristo sandwiches – oh.em.gee.), embraced the “fresh faced” (read no make-up) look, indulged in wine with dinner every night and avoided every form of physical exertion.

This leap into apathy regarding my well-being and appearance was only the final step.  I’d been inching to the edge since I arrived here.  The twice weekly, hour long sweat sessions with my personal trainer in California, has been reduced to once a week for 30 minutes.  My daily 30 minute cardio routine has whittled away to once or twice a week for 45 minutes, if I make the effort to fit it in.  My only food ritual – a healthy breakfast – has been replaced with the morning latte (sometimes two) and I drink more wine, then water.  I’ve been to a chiropractor, a massage therapist and had my hair done exactly once each since I got here.  Walking around Bethesda with a friend recently, I admired her pep and the way her heels matched her top.  I realized…I’ve let myself go. 

Earlier this week, I decided to fill an evening with a little retail therapy.  I wandered Macy’s but nothing appealed to me.  I tried some things on, but nothing fit my newfound ameba-shaped body properly.  After a brief scare when I lost my keys, I left the mall feeling alone, fat and generally unhappy.  Last night I went back determined to gain a victory.  I hauled armloads of clothes into dressing rooms until my shoulders hurt.  Finally, I came out with…one pair of jeans.  Yesss.  One pair of fitted jeans that didn’t necessarily hide my recently enlarged muffin top, but at least didn’t exacerbate it. 

Today was casual Friday so this morning I took the time to put on my great new jeans and a cute top.  I added earrings and my new favorite ring that I got at Awakening Fest.  I put on my Kenneth Cole wedges that I love, love, love, but hardly ever wear.  I did my hair.  I did my make-up.  I felt fantastic all day.  I took the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator and I re-applied lip gloss throughout the day.  In the afternoon, my cute-shoes-and-top-friend texted me to see if she should make us appointments together to get our hair done.   YES!

It was only one pair of jeans…but it felt like a jump start.  I could feel the rush – I could remember how good it felt to do strength training regularly.  How…hydrated I felt when I drank 62 ounces of water every day.  I didn’t carry my stress in my shoulders and my posture was better when I went to a chiropractor and saw a massage therapist regularly.  In a nutshell, I was reminded all day long that when I care about myself…I care about myself.  That it makes life a little bit easier and really – right now – easier is just what I need!

So today I’ve decided that I have to make a concentrated effort to take care of myself. Not to lose weight or to attract a man or for any other reason other than just, simply because I deserve it!

“How things look on the outside of us depends on how things are on the inside of us.”  ~ Unknown

Love y’all!
~M~

Wordless Wednesday

Rain or Shine

Today was overcast and gloomy the entire day.  Everyone was talking about it – the DJs on the radio, coworkers – everyone.  I had to dig my umbrella out of my closet to get to my car, it was like a throwback to my Washington state days.  Once I got to my car, it took me 15 minutes to get to a point it usually takes me two minutes to reach.  Rain, is an oddity here.  And by rain, I do mean the sullen, gloomy, Twilight kind of rain. 

But I liked it.  It reminded me of home.  We’re easing into winter and soon enough, we’ll be coming out of it…when we do, I’ll be entering my fourth year on this journey away from home.  My original plan was to come to DC for three years.  Get some good, solid experience and return home to my friends and loved ones.  But apparently God had other plans.  Try as I might, I haven’t been able to recreate the elusive level of comfort and familiarity-bordering-on-boredom that I once held for where I lived.

I’ve always been a late bloomer.  So it really shouldn’t surprise me that it’s taken nearly four years away from my comfort zone, before I begin to make sense of what God is showing me.  In a word...contentment. 

I’ve been putting pressure on myself, for years now, to settle into a new community so that I can re-establish myself and be just like how I used to be.  I've felt almost an urgancy to transplant before I loose that person I feel in there.  In the last few months, I was sure that I was closer than ever.  I was going to move back to DC, back to a small pre-established cross section of friends and acquaintances, get married have a ready-made family, a good government job and live happily ever after.  But apparently God had other plans.

In the last two weeks it’s become clear to me (um, again), that re-creating the new and improved life that I once knew, just might not happen.  The thought kind of rattles me, but also shows me that at the core, I’m still the “me” I knew then – even without the familiar comfort zone that I was sure created it.  I’m on a journey which apparently isn’t over.  And that’s why it’s so important for me to find – and rest – in contentment with my current circumstances, whatever they may be. 

When I first heard this Miley Cyrus song, I chuckled. Really?  As in…Hannah Montana?  But when I heard it I criiiiied and cried…and then repeated it and criiiiied some more.  Preach it Miley!  I hope that our Twilight weather will continue tomorrow.  Amidst everything new and semi-familiar, it’s a nice reminder of home and what used to be….a reminder of every part of me. J

"But godliness with contentment is great gain." ~ 1 Timothy 6:6

Love y’all,
~M~

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da

I had a good morning.  I think it was the residual effects of a good night.  I had a wonderful Anger Management class last night.  Initially, I’d signed up for the class out of some combination of self-concern, spite and curiosity.  But I wasn’t there 15 minutes and I knew this class was gunna be good.  I felt thankful that someone accused me of having this issue, but also sorry that he doesn’t seem to realize to what extent it could help him in his relationships too.  I didn’t linger terribly long on that thought, though, because let’s be honest – I didn’t pay the money to apply these principles to someone else (lol)! 

So I woke up feeling…renewed.  But I’ve had a couple of weird hiccups today.  I re-established the allotment with my bank for my paycheck – my new job finally gave me access that I needed (it only took seven weeks), so now I have the right amount of money going into the right account to get my bills paid.  It took, like, 7 seconds.  It was such a huge thing.  Then I did something else (I don’t remember what, to be honest) and had the same weird, physical reaction – almost like mental vertigo or something.  But at the same time, I was aware that the actions I’d taken were small ones in the big picture, so I shrugged it off.  I got everything out, to do some real work at my job (now that seven weeks in I seem to be finally getting all of the accesses that I need!)…but at first, I just couldn’t…it was that same feeling that washed over me. 

I think what’s happening is that life is going on. 

Until my recent “Facebook status change”, these little details were sort of building up – they had become my routine.  I didn’t work, because there was little to do or that I was authorized access to, so when I wasn’t shadowing another employee I mostly emailed or texted the not-boyfriend all day.  I neglected details like setting up my financial allotments or picking up packages at the Post Office because I was always with him or unprepared and running late because I’d overslept after being with him for too long the night before (lol)…

When I go into my kitchen or look in my fridge, I get the same feeling.  There are still things in there from when I first got here and we went grocery shopping together.  The flat of bottled water, the bottle of V8…he built my kitchen table and chairs for me and he organized my cupboards too.  Then there’s the last vase of wilting pink roses…I know the time will come when the stuff in the fridge will be gone.  Dying roses reach a point when they smell like death too.  And I’m sure that eventually the magnifying mirror he voted to keep in the bathroom or closet but I kept on the kitchen table (where I can sit comfortably for longer), will permanently make its home there.  Soon enough, life will move forward leaving behind any lingering evidence of what was supposed to be…I think that process is starting already.

Life isn’t standing still this time to mourn the demise of M&M.  On the one hand, that’s exciting – but on the other, it’s intimidating.  All I wanted when I got here was a familiar routine.  I yearned for it.  I wanted to have “the usual” – the things that I could expect or assume.  I’m realizing now, that I had those things, they just didn’t look the way I expected.  As my weekend approaches, there’s a subtle anxiety in my stomach.  I’m nervous because I have one entire day out of two where I have no plans.  I’m distinctly aware that my routine has been disrupted, because usually I would be with him.  But I’m also aware that like those couple of other things that I managed to accomplish today, new routines are on the way...I just have to wait and keep looking.  Because they tend to come when I’m busy doing them.

“In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life.  It goes on.” ~Robert Frost

Love y'all,

~M~

Wordless Wednesday

Just a Second

Thanks, Mike



~M~

Tree of Life

“There are things that we don't want to happen but have to accept, things we don't want to know but have to learn, and people we can't live without but have to let go of.” ~ Anonymous

I am here.  I made it back to DC.  God is faithful – He delivered me (practically with a bow on my head) not only back to the DC area, but to the same area I ran away from last year.  I am blessed.  I have possibly the cutest apartment in the most convenient area and have the cutest new car to troll around my new area in.  God is faithful.  He has met all of my needs.  I am alone.  Five months ago, the last time I blogged, I contemplated taking risks.  I had no idea how mine would pay off, but I hoped for the best.  That what I desired most of all would come to fruition.  But it has not.  Once again, one year later, I am here and blessed…and alone.

I’m not sure yet just what my thoughts are on this recent turn of events.  It’s only now been 24 hours.  My eyes hurt, my stomach muscles ache, I’ve eaten approximately seven grapes all day and I can’t look a single person in the eye without bursting into tears.  Zumba tonight was quite a feat – I should feel special and excited that my teacher remembers my name and has began talking to me in class.  But…tonight?  My care group chose tonight to review the group covenant and by the time we reached the bullet about supporting each other in prayer, I was hyperventilating.  Again. 

I really wanted this.  I prayed for 13 months and 3,000 miles for direction, clarification, hope.  I can clearly recall March 8th when he emailed me and invited me on a date – to pursue me, with the intention of marrying me, he’d said.  I remember standing in a stall in the ladies’ room, my head pressed against the door, just praying.  I had worked so hard for so many months to put – and keep – God first in my life.  Before everything.  Before my love, before my desire to get married, before my desire to have children.  And then, the ultimate test was in front of me. 

I remembered Abraham and Isaac.  Abraham’s love for God was so great that Abraham was willing to sacrifice his only, cherished and longed for son.  Because he knew God had a plan.  I wanted to always remember – always – that whatever happened, I should be able to give my love up if the time came.  Because God has a plan.  And as hard as it may be, or as wrong as it may seem, my only job is to trust that.  Then, tonight, as she was leaving, a woman at care group who I hadn’t met before handed me a small slip of paper and smiled.  I opened it and read…

“For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”” Jeremiah 29:11

It’s a verse I’ve read many times before – it was my life verse in high school, in fact.  But tonight, it felt like a hug.  It took me back to that bathroom stall, thinking about Abraham and wondering if I would ever in life be so brave as to trust God’s plan that way…and now, just six months later – and as I troll around Montgomery County realizing so much of my familiarity with the area is directly thanks to my love – I realize, that I am.

Five months ago, my pastor reminded me that to get the good stuff, I’ve got to go out on a limb.  So I did…and I learned that sometimes that limb can break before I can reach the prize.  I learned that if it does break, it will hurt.  But that should never stop me and I will always hold out hope for another season – because life is long and ultimately I know that I am rooted in the Tree of Life.

Love y'all,
~M~

A-MEN!!

Love y'all!
~M~

Fruit Doesn’t Grow on the Trunk

"Sometimes our fate resembles a fruit tree in winter.  Who would think that those branches would turn green again and blossom, but we hope it, we know it."

- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Six weeks ago, I started on a journey that will possibly - likely - change my life.  Most of the people I know, who know about my decision, have been skeptical and something less then supportive.  Initially, I was so hurt that the people I love and who love me would be so pessimistic.  Initially I wondered if their reluctance was a sign from God that I should pay attention to.  But the peace that I feel whenever I pray over this, confirms for me that I’m doing the right thing.  I don’t know what will happen, how this will end…but I know that I’m doing what God would have me do and I know there is something to be learned and/or accomplished from this experience.  So even if it doesn’t go the way I would prefer, I will be happy – and content – because I know I followed God.

Two years ago, I dated a man I wanted to marry.  Our break-up darn near killed me and exposed traits in me I didn’t even know I had.  The experience taught me that I cannot say, “I would never do that” – because you just never know(!).  The months after our relationship ended, the months that I spent piecing my life back together, taught me much about God’s sovereignty, our own free will, trust and also forgiveness.

I used to call him MSO – My Special One, more special than any one I’d known before.  Which is, to me, a gold star example of the sovereignty of God’s plan.  The man I knew then was slightly flawed but perfect for me as far as I was concerned.  And now, two years later, he’s better than I ever could have imagined.  Seeing this change in him, the skepticism from my loved ones hurts me.  But I’m trying to remember that these loved ones who know we’re communicating again, have less information to work with, then I do.  They haven’t talked to him countless times daily, every day for six weeks.  They haven’t had the opportunity to see the changes in this man.  They haven’t prayed for guidance and felt the complete sense of peace.  They just know that they love me and that I loved him.  And that he hurt me…so they don’t love him.

But I hope that they will cautiously give him another chance, the same way I have.  Because regardless of how this journey will end, I can see that God is in it.  The person I am called to be through this journey is a truer, deeper Christian then I have been before.  Because the question in this experience really isn’t whether or not to let this man back into my life, whether or not he will hurt me again.  It’s whether or not to trust that God has a plan for me.  Whether or not to believe that even if this experience doesn’t end the way I would hope, that it has come to me for a reason.  To exercise my belief that all things work together for the good of those who love the Lord.

I don’t know how this will end.  I’m praying and seeking, diligently holding fast to my plan to move back to DC for myself.  And I’m trying to be open and aware of the new things God is showing me and the new ways God is growing me, and that perhaps he is using this very special person for a purpose.  For 17 years I’ve trusted in Him.  Taking one small step and then another and another, more and more boldly each time.  I never want to lose that.  I never want to lose the promise that when I take a leap of faith, God will be there to catch me.  And as if to affirm that desire, this morning my pastor spoke directly to me from the stage, when he said, “Fruit doesn’t grow on the trunk, friends – to get the good stuff, you’ve got to go out on a limb.”

Love y’all!
~M~

I Found God in Barack Obama

It’s been a long, long time since I’ve blogged. I’ve had a zillion things on my mind, which, I imagine will find their ways onto these pages, eventually. So much has happened since my grandpa died, I don’t really know where to start and it’s causing me a decent amount of writer’s block, to be honest. But recently when I saw a little blurb in the news about my favorite president, I chuckled and was reminded of my partial goal to see God in random things this year. So…I found God in Barack Obama.

On April 5th, at a baseball game in Washington DC, President Obama threw the first pitch of the game. Wearing a Washington Nationals jacket, he jogged to the pitcher’s mound bare headed. But then before making the actual pitch, he paused, pulled a Chicago White Sox cap out of his pocket and pulled it tight over his head. He then stood for a moment, grinning and looking around proudly. HA! Standing on the pitcher’s mound before throwing the first pitch of the game, Barack Obama took the perfect opportunity to represent for a completely different team!!!! :-D Because you can take the boy outta Chicago, but you can’t take Chicago outta the boy! His actions hit the news (naturally) but so far as I can tell, there is no decided reaction one way or the other. I choose to believe this is because deep down, even the most dedicated fan understands the concept of, well, dedication.

Barack Obama and his White Sox cap are sealed into my memory, as an illustration of dedication, of commitment – and of how to represent my faith in Jesus Christ. My life is so…daily. I go to work, I go to the gym, I walk my dog, I go to the grocery store. As a Christian, I am called to live in this world, but not be of this world – to be a light in the darkness. Like my president, who now lives in DC, but remembers where he's from.  I want to take the time to conciously pull on the attire of the beliefs I proclaim: among others, patience, peace, humilty, boldness, love...So that, whether they be few and far between, or come repeatedly every day, when my moments come to stand grinning on the mound, my cap will proclaim that regardless of my circumstance, I am a follower of Christ!



Love y'all! :)
~M~

It's Resurrection Day!

I haven't blogged in so long...what a month March was, God was stretching and pulling...and I was grunting like I do in yoga class, wonder when's this session gunna end?!  I have so much to share but can't yet find the words...so in the mean time, to get myself back in the grove, I thought I'd share a lil sumthin' from my Facebook, in honor of Easter.  More to come, though - promise! :)

Love y'all!
~M~

Simple Truths

I was already in bed when my cell phone rang. The caller was from a number I didn’t recognize, but I picked up anyway, a mixture of boredom and curiosity. The caller was my mom. “I have some bad news” she said matter-of-factly, “Your grandpa has died.” I sat bolt upright, I’m not sure how long I was stunned silent, but finally I managed, “My grandpa…?”

My grandpa was a quiet, deliberate man – easily overshadowed in a family of loud, gregarious women. During WW2, he fought in the Army and raised four children in the baby boom. He built every house my mom lived in, until she moved out on her own. He took me in as his own when I was a baby and my parents divorced. He taught me to love ice cream and the Lord. His favorite color was green and when I was little, it tickled him to no end that when he scowled at me, I would scowl back. He bought me a Honda CRX for Christmas one year and was genuinely concerned that I wouldn’t like it. He helped pay for me to attend Catholic elementary school and helped put me through college. He told me once that my best bet to find a good man, was to find a dumb farm boy “like him”.

Whenever my grandpa got dressed up, he would wear a bolo (of which he had several) and a belt buckle I can’t remember giving him that said, “Worlds Best Grandpa”. When he spoke, if I listened close enough, I could hear his dentures click. He was damn near stone deaf, we had to shout ourselves horse to talk to him.  When my grandpa was my age, he was so handsome – he looked just like a movie star. My grandpa sat in a chair in the Living Room for the last few years of his life, while the family life continued to buzz around him. Countless times, when food was being served in the kitchen or eaten in the Family Room, my Gramma would hand me a plate and say, “Take this to Dad…” and I would dutifuly deliver it to the next room.  My grandpa ate a bowl of ice cream every night and when his doctor suggested he cut back to just a cup, I made him a ceramic cup the size of a bowl with “I love you grandpa” painted on the bottom inside. When my grandpa laughed, no sound came out. He would squeeze his eyes shut and shake his shoulders.

My grandpa loved plaid and flannel -  and he loved them even more, together. When I was growing up, he loved to work on cars. He went hunting every year with his sons. One year, he brought home such a haul, he had to talk my mom into buying a full size freezer so we could store the venison (deer meat) in her basement. My grandpa believed in conspiracies and the end times. He built a house big enough on property large enough for all of us, in the event the end times started any time soon. My grandpa’s birthday was Christmas day and every year he got a $1.00 box of chocolate covered cherries from my mom – a tradition started when she was small. One year recently she didn’t get it, assuming he didn't really care…but that evening he asked her, “Where are my cherries, Reet?”

I used to visit grandpa when no one else was home, just to talk to him in his chair. He told me he heard God’s voice once. My grandpa read the King James Bible every day but when he’d get really upset, he’d still cuss (not entirely unlike his granddaughter).  He also had an alternative cuss word (not entirely unlike his granddaughter) – his was “Dagnabit”. My grandpa collected John Deere’s and CATs and loved to get them stuck in the earth on his farm. He made the pond on our property and stocked it with fish – we had to explain to him that he couldn’t shoot the Blue Herring that kept eating them all out because it was an endangered species.  He didn't much care.

My grandpa’s name was Max and he died yesterday. He’s in heaven now, of that I am certain. I will miss him until I see him again. Today after church, a song came on the radio and I will forever believe it was my grandpa saying good-bye to me.  My grandpa led the family in prayer at every meal we shared together. Today, my prayer echos the last line of every prayer he prayed as far back as I can remember:  “Lord, help us and help us, to help each other.” …now, more than ever, Father. Amen.



I love you, grandpa...
~M~

Sinkhole Saints

Friday there was finally a break in the rain. I ventured out of the Ark and decided to celebrate the overcast-but-reasonably-ok-and-safe-to-possibly-get-lost-before-the-next-wave-(literally) weather and take a new route home. Or more specifically, a road that from the looks of things, led in the general direction of the city where I live.

The first part of the road, ran parallel to the highway, so I knew I’d be safe. As I drove along I casually looked toward the highway and did a double take when I saw huge gaping holes in the earth beneath the road. Large metal arches held up the highway, so pass-throughs could be created for the ranches on either side. I was shocked to see this, because from my usual daily view on the highway, I could see none of it – the highway looked like it was built on solid ground. But from this new perspective, I could see that “solid ground” looked like Swiss cheese.

Today on the way to work, I noticed a sign telling us the highway would be closed tomorrow. The entire highway?! When I got to work, I learned it would only be a small portion, just past the exit I take to get to and from work. A sinkhole had developed right in the middle of the road. Sinkholes are caused by water gradually eating away at the earth in a specific area, until whatever is on top is too heavy and sinks into the empty space the water caused. I learned that in this part of California, sinkholes are not uncommon, because the earth is sandy, the area floods in the winter and the overall infrastructure is old.

For so many of us, our relationships with Christ are like the highway I travel on to and from work. It looks good on the outside – everything appears to be firm and supported, just where it’s supposed to be. But if you look closer – perhaps from another angle – there are holes. If the foundation we build our relationships with God on is weak, then when trials, temptations or valley seasons come, those insidious challenges will diligently eat away at what little foundation we have and we will cave under the pressure.

We must be on the lookout for what the enemy persistently uses to eat away at our foundation, because the enemy’s goal is to kill, steal and destroy. Spiritually, we cannot rely on an old infrastructure – lessons learned in youth group, or the Christian counselor from the Boy Scout camping trip in 5th grade. We can’t rely on the Serenity prayer from AA or get our fix from a friend’s faith in Christ. We must continuously work to solidify our individual foundations in Him.

“He is like a man building a house, who dug down deep and laid the foundation on rock. When a flood came, the torrent struck that house but could not shake it, because it was well built. 49But the one who hears my words and does not put them into practice is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. The moment the torrent struck that house, it collapsed and its destruction was complete." Luke 6:48-49

Love y'all!
~M~

Deliverance

(noun) deliverance

1. the act of delivering or freeing from restraint, captivity, peril, and the like; rescue; as, the deliverance of a captive
2. any fact or truth which is decisively attested or intuitively known as a psychological or philosophical datum; as, the deliverance of consciousness

Yesterday was a great day. There was literally nothing bad about my day. Yet, for some reason, last night I found myself in a funk. I even tried to cry a couple of times, to no avail. When I woke up this morning, the feeling still lingered. On the way to work, I reminded myself that my life is God’s and that I want to be content with His will for me – just in case I had forgotten that, and it might have caused a little blister in my spiritual life. When a friend forwarded me a Daily Thought, as she often does, I replied to her text and told her I felt…funny and would she please give me something interesting to ponder (as she often does). I am sure my relationship with this particular friend is God ordained. That’s not to say none others are, but this one, I am sure is. She responded to my text by emailing me at work to encourage me.

“Maybe you’re mourning not having something to mourn…” she suggested, “you might be trying to miss something that in reality, you just don’t have a taste for actually missing anymore.” I realized simply and quickly that…she’s right. My time in California has been such an amazing time with God. I rededicated my life to Christ – I can’t believe it’s been five months already – and I have been taking steps daily to grow and develop my relationship with Him. It’s not just my spiritual life that I am giving to Him to change, but my whole life. He is with me while I experience fitness and health. He is with me, while I figure out boundaries with my family and while I discover what it is that I want in a community and an environment. He is with me while I am stretched and challenged at work. He is with me in everything that is happening in my life right now. And more importantly, he is delivering me. Christ is delivering me from fear and from anxiety, from unnecessary habits and insecurities. He is delivering me from immaturity and apathy and anger and self hate.

When I read my friend’s email, I realized – the old Mianna would be anxious for work, knowing it’s going to be challenging and even downright hard (and btw, it today was). The old Mianna would be eager to fast forward to finding a new job in DC already over her current surroundings. The old Mianna would be bummed out as Valentine’s Day approaches and the old Mianna would be easily convinced to work through lunch rather than go to the gym or to consider a hike on the beach “enough” exercise and not walk her dog for a mile the same evening. But the new Mianna…she is not anxious about work, because she knows it will be hard…but she knows who is in control. She is excited for a job in DC that will take her home…but she is equally excited to experience all of the adventures that California has before she leaves. The new Mianna knows Valentine’s Day is coming and already has plans. The new Mianna runs at lunch and channels those endorphins towards a productive afternoon and she hikes the beach with friends and walks her dog for a mile because she knows he loves it...and it wouldn’t kill her to make him happy.

I have been delivered from so much in these last few months and although I am so grateful, I have not been standing in the fullness of that one, simple fact. I am more than a conqueror through Him who loves me. Not standing in the power and in the strength and the light of God’s deliverance is as good (or bad) as not accepting it at all. So today was another milestone in this season of self discovery. Today is the day I choose to own the changes God is making in my life. Not as new and interesting, but as my reality – a part of me. I’m no longer trying or starting, or beginning these things. As of today, I simply am these things.

"...Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the LORD will bring you today." ~ Exodus 14:13



Love y'all,
~M~

Snow Job

All of my east coast friends are telling me of their adventures in the recent blizzard and asking me just how grateful I am that I live in California now and don't have to deal with their weather.

But, the fact of the matter is, no - I am not happy to be living here now, instead of there...I've been learning tons about myself over these last three years and one of those things, is that I like seasons - and in true Mimi fashion, the more the better, thank you very much!  A friend asked me (in disbelief) what I could possibly miss about Maryland right now. My reply made her laugh, prompted her to forward it family members and caused her to encourage me to publish my writing. All that from just an email! So I decided to share it here...

Chris: 30 inches of snow, are ya sure you Miss Maryland? Remind me, please, and I will send you pictures tomorrow!

Me: 30 inches?!?!?!?! Yes I am sure!! I want to be up to my nostrils in snow. I want to invest in long underwear and thick socks. I want to debate with my coworkers if we should leave work early to get to the market before the shelves are bare. I want to walk in a straight line and when I turn around, see my footsteps & be surprised that they're so far down. I want to wear my Uggs because they're warm and not because I'm too lazy to put on shoes that lace. I want to wear them because they are winter boots and therefore, should be worn with down stuffed coats not tank tops and micro minis...

I want to have to plead with Malachi to "go shi-shi" outside while he desperately tries to get us back inside where it's warm and where the normal people/dogs are at. I want to pick up my friend at her house and venture 10 miles an hour the whole way, to church only to discover they canceled the event for the night but we didn't get the message (yup, really happened - at Cov Life too!)...I want to see liquid on the ground and think "careful, could be ice" instead of "oh, water". I want the cute little decals I put on my car windows to get scraped off after one winter's worth of window scrapping…

I want to look up in the sky and see it all purple-y with big, fat snowflakes coming down on me & feel that vertigo type feeling when the flakes come and I can "see" how far up the sky is. I want to take the metro because I have to - not because I want to - because the streets are hectic. I want to see cars who ventured out too soon (or too late) on the sides of the roads. I want to be one of "those" people who buys sweaters for their dogs...and maybe boots too, cuz it is cold, after all...

I want to day dream about getting a job and moving to California where it's sunny and warm all the time, blissfully unaware (or conveniently forgetting) that it's practically monsoon season here and if things keep going at the rate they are, I am going to have to swim to work and take an ark home...I want to light candles. Oooh, and a fireplace (since I will have one in my idealic Maryland life) and drink cocoa or hot tea and read...

I want a space heater in the doorway of my bathroom so that when I get out of the shower I won't develop icicles on myself before I can get dry. I want to remember to touch something metal with my key first when I get out of my car at a gas station and to have to try not to mutter a “wirty dord” when I forget and feel that crack! of the static shock that built up on me and that lil panic of "Am I going to mess around and blow myself up at this gas station?!?!" because the air is so dry…

Hmmm...what else...I want to have the shared experience of a storm - everyone in it together...I want to wear ear muffs and gloves. I want to coordinate my scarves with my outfits. I want to buy those little air activated heat packs that last eight hours that you can stuff down the back of your shirt to keep cozy. I want to know where my emergency lanterns are for when the lights go out. I want something to talk about with others that, although technically is the stereotypical "how's the weather?" conversation, is still genuinely interesting (lol) and I want admin leave (free time off work) when all of DC federal government closes down for inclement weather (!!!)...

Ok...ok, yeah, I think I’m done. For now. But I still want pictures!! Preferably of a really big snowman with your kids lined up next to him, but he's the tallest - maybe even taller than dad???

Be well – and be safe (to everyone there!)!!!
~M~

Not Me, but He

I pulled my sleeves up and found my forearms covered with angry little red bumps – from elbow to wrist and even wrapping around to the backs of my hands.  Seeing them in that moment, I came to realize they itch too - a lot.  Fabulous.  For years, I’ve had a stress related skin condition that usually shows up on my face and in my hair line that just looks like dry skin…but itchy microscopic bumps, this is something new.

Stress.  It can manifest intself in the greatest ways.

When I returned from DC a few weeks ago, I knew a challenge was waiting for me.  The day I came back, one of our Specialists started a new job in a different department and our supervisor left for extended, international leave for five weeks, leaving myself and one other Specialist to service the entire Air Force base that we work on. Before my trip, I didn’t care to know the details of who was taking what assignments from the departing Specialist (I knew regardless of details, the coming weeks would be trying) but I did notice it took her three trips to my office to move my share of her files and only one trip (and one hand) to deliver my counterpart’s share. When I came back from DC, the Specialist who left told me that with my original workload and my share of what was hers, I would now be servicing approximately 70% of the base.

Yeah. I haven't verified her math, I'm too afraid (lol).

Instead, I’m taking my job one day at a time. I have over 100 plates spinning and at any given moment one could drop…or I could catch it and keep it spinning. So far, I’ve been able to keep them all spinning away. But I haven’t been doing it on my own and the experience, although stressful, makes me curious and thankful to God. There have been many moments when I have literally put something down and said, “Lord, this is yours. If you want me to succeed, so be it – please take this from me and do what you want.” I have taken to making a hand gesture my pastor suggested on the first day of 2010: hands out, palms down. I am giving this up. This is not mine but yours, Lord. Have your way. I can’t take credit for keeping things working because I honestly don’t know how I’m doing it, other than to say that it’s not me, but He who making this happen.

Relief will come in three weeks when our boss returns and several weeks after that, the new Specialist will start and we’ll be able to split the workload three ways again. Until then, I am working and sleeping and fending off a cold, afraid to miss even two hours on Wednesdays for my appointments with my therapist. I’m also becoming more active in my church, attending Community Bible Study and trying to find time to be social with new friends. I’m training for my first 10K, working twice weekly with my personal trainer, reading the Bible in a year and trying to make sure Malachi doesn’t spend 20 hours a day locked up and alone.

So when I discovered my creepy little bumps that make me itch like I have bugs, I can’t say I was all that surprised. But despite what my body appears to think, I know I can do this. I will chug my quarts of OJ directly from the bottle while taking a customer's call and replying to an email with a third customer waiting in the lobby. I will run my multiple miles at lunch and fall asleep reading my Bible. I'll play with Malachi (and bribe him with yummies) and take notes at CBS...and I will even occassionally write a blog.  I know this stressful season will pass and I know I can make it through – successfully – because I can do all things. And not all things through me, but through He who strengthens me.

Love y'all!
~M~

The Modern Mocha

"The modern mocha is a bittersweet concoction of imperialism, genocide, invention, and consumerism served with whipped cream on top." ~Sarah Vowell

My decision was an overwhelming one. I found Mocha Club (http://www.mochaclub.org/) at least a month ago and had yet to decide on a project to support.  How do you choose one, when there are so many in need?  But at only $7.00 a month, I knew without a doubt that this was a phenomenal outreach.  $7.00 a month.  People can rationalize not forking out the $30, $40, $50 a month for larger, better known programs – we need that money for our iphone bills, our hair appointments, or to pay for the 500+ channels on our plasma flat screen TV’s.  But $7.00...how can we defend not giving $7.00 a month?  The challenge for me, was deciding how to give.  What’s more important - child mothers?  HIV/AIDS?  Orphans?  Clean water?  Education??

Tonight I entered a contest on a friend’s blog – how many lattes would she drink this year.  Hmmm…if it were me asking this question, the answer would be easy – count the number of days in a year and then multiply by two.  Or maybe three, depending on what the year has in store.  While I was doing my calculations (my guess, btw, is 243) I was reminded again of Mocha Club and I decided tonight would be the night that I join.

For 45 minutes I went back and forth through the various projects.  There are only five, but they’re all important, I couldn’t decide on which one.  Giving doesn’t have to hurt and what I like the most about Mocha Club is that $7.00 a month is relatively nothing for most of us.  I could do them all…and then, when finances get tight, bail like so many others do, or I could keep putting it off, not giving anything because I can’t decide on the “best” one to support.  Or I could pick something and donate just two lattes a month.  I wanted to pick, but I couldn’t.  Slightly overwhelmed (and admittedly, slightly annoyed that my effort to give was stressing me out) I got up and poured myself a glass of water.

I drank the entire glass and poured another when it occurred to me that I was holding my decision: clean water.  My two glasses of Crystal Geyser bottled water came from my refrigerator because my local water, provided for free, “tastes funny”.  Granted it doesn’t taste like mud or spread disease, the way it does in the Sudan, but still...My third glass of water reminded me that I am truly blessed – blessed to have a favorite water when so many have none at all. How many times in the last year have I talked to people about what water they prefer?  Arrowhead is too salty; Dasani is distilled; she only drinks Poland Spring because she knows the source personally and he only drinks Fiji because…well, I can’t remember why.  My personal favorite is Deer Park and anything less is just only…“ok”.

So please - check out http://www.mochaclub.org/ and find a reason to give.  It doesn't have to be water, there are four other projects you could support.  But I’d be psyched if you would join with me – my team is Missmiangels (http://www.mochaclub.org/joinme/missmiangels - I know, I know, my creativity is astounding…thank you, thank you very much, thank you…) and give $7.00 a month so the Sudanese people can have clean water.  Remember, the human body is between 60 - 70 percent water...

Love y’all,
~M~

See Jane Run

I ran three miles today. Three miles, without stopping. Three miles, in intervals, which I’m learning is best for thick chicks with relatively zero background in physical fitness. Three miles all the same. Grinning almost the whole time.

God is working in my life and I can feel it every step of the way. I haven’t written in the last few days, because no one thing has risen to the top of my awareness. I am constantly bombarded by all of the different and unrelated ways that God is working and moving in my life. The only things that are consistent are that He’s working, and that I’m letting him. It feels amazing and exciting and encouraging…

I mark the calendar as time passes and I wonder what the next month will bring…52 weeks ago, I wouldn’t run if my hair was on fire. Where will I be 52 weeks from today…?

“…those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” Isaiah 40:31

“Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last; but we do it to get a crown that will last forever.” 1 Cor. 9:24-25

"If you have raced with men on foot and they have worn you out, how can you compete with horses? If you stumble in safe country, how will you manage in the thickets…?” Jeremiah 12:5

“However, I consider my life worth nothing to me, if only I may finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the gospel of God's grace.” Acts: 20:24

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.” Hebrews 12:1

Love y'all,
~M~

Home Is Where the Heart Is

“The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence!”… “Remember Lot’s wife!”…I reminded myself of these saying for days – weeks – before I finally allowed myself to seriously consider the possibility that I may want to return to the Metro DC area. Still, tentative, I planned a visit to see how it would feel. Carefully I took mental note of every feeling. The giddy excitement when it was still six weeks away. The way I accidentally referred to it as “going home” in a conversation with a current co-worker. The stomach ache and the way I procrastinated when the time came to head to the airport to return to California. The way I stumbled when a fellow passenger on my flight asked me where I’m from – I caught myself saying “the DC area” before I replaced it with, “Washington state”.

In California I was fearful that I wanted to return to the area for an old flame. But this weekend I came to realize his influence is significantly less than I thought it would be. While I still saw all the places that could well have triggered memories we share, I didn’t think about him much at all. Not until Saturday, when I realized I could inadvertently run into him the next day at church. Immediately after the church service, I sat anxiously in my seat, not sure if I should or could make my way into the crowded lobby. To go, would be to risk interaction with someone significant from my past. To sit, would risk not facing the memories of this place the way my trip was meant to do. I stayed seated until the sanctuary was semi-empty and those moments were the only ones in my whole time there, when fear and emotion got the better of me.

I can honestly say, however, that was my only battle with fear and past hurdles. My overall assessment of my visit is that I really do like the whole DC area and I have to go back. I have to go home. Until this revelation, I looked at the DMV like it had snatched me, chewed me up and spit me out. I had failed there. Just days before my trip I finally summoned up the nerve to tell my mother (by email, the chicken way!) not only that I was going to visit but that I was doing it because I think I want to move back. My mom replied, displeased as expected and as I struggled to hold my ground, I came upon the key to it all – there is nothing wrong with Central California, it’s beautiful here. But I don’t fit here. I don’t fit here, and until recently I didn’t think I fit in DC either…but if given the choice, I would rather be in an environment where I’m forced to grow to fit, then shrink to fit.

DC challenges me to grow. I have to be patient, when English is not the first language of so many. I have to be organized – even to just get from Point A to Point B. I have to be decisive, because there are always so many options there. I have to be confident and outgoing because everyone has somewhere else to be (and usually as soon as possible). Since moving to California, I’ve developed the annoying trait of flushing scarlet when I’m talking in front of my office mates. Mianna, the public speaking major who never had a problem speaking in front of hundreds of people, now physically reacts when in front of just four. I’m shrinking already.

So I don’t know when or how – or where – I’ll go, but I’ve officially decided what my next step will be. The last three years have been an opportunity to discover more about myself and now that I know – and I want to go home. And now, I finally know where that is.

Love y'all,

~M~

Cage the Elephant

What a difference a year makes. One year ago, I was happy. My life was headed in a direction I’d prayed and prayed that it would go. I’ve thought about things since then and yup – life was good. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good. Some work had to be done, but everything I’d always wanted was coming together. And then, suddenly, one year ago to the day…it was over. I’ve been wondering all week how today would feel. Part of me thought maybe I wouldn’t even notice, since I’d long ago stopped tracking the months of progress and until only recently it hadn’t even occurred to me the “significance” of today. The other part of me, though, wondered if I would get out of bed at all. It’s been a year(!), but when I think about things for too long, I can still feel the ache in my chest.

What a difference a year makes. I live in California now – sunny, Mediterranean, California. A Shangri-la destination I never thought I’d live. I’m 30lbs lighter and three clothing sizes smaller. I work out five days a week and I can feel the changes in my body and my endurance. I’m gearing up for my first half marathon relay. I haven’t earned a single hour of sick leave since I moved here, but can see the pay off for the appointments with my councilor that I commute an hour for; I can see how facts and events in my past affected me. My relationship with my family is different and as a result, how I relate to the opposite sex is different too. I now live in a postage stamp sized studio cottage and I’ve never been happier – it’s just enough space for me, no more, no less. I’m learning so much from the teacher at my Bible study – an organization called Community Bible Study, that I first learned about in DC, but didn’t have the opportunity to attend regularly. I’ve found a great church that is welcoming and has lots of opportunities to get plugged in.

What a difference a year makes. I’m now healthy in mind, body and spirit. I have never felt better. About a month ago, I started wondering if the feelings I have of missing DC where because “the grass is always greener on the other side” or because I really do miss it. It was a daily thought, I couldn’t figure out the answer to. Do I really want to go back? I decided the best way to know for sure would be to visit. Then, as things came together for my visit, I was invited to also interview for a job while I was there. The opportunity prompted me to think more seriously – and literally – about whether or not I want to return.

What a difference a year makes. For so many years before this last one, there have been things in my life that went unacknowledged. Things that I saw, but had been taught or had learned to carefully and diligently turn my head away from and refuse to acknowledge. I very carefully ignored any figurative “elephants in the room” that where in my presence. I ignored and suppressed and made excuses, until I couldn’t do it anymore. For me, this has been a year of caging the elephants in my life to prevent any future damage...and it feels great. The interview in DC fell through, but I’m just two days away from my visit and I can’t wait. I see it as an opportunity to see a geographic area through healed eyes. Will it be brighter? More pleasant? Or maybe (more realistically) it will be the same, but I will be different. It’s an exciting thought…

Love y'all,
~M~