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~

Son of Sam

When my childhood dog died, what I remembered the very most about him, was how good he was. If I had followed his example in any one way – his goodness, his love, his ability to forgive – I would be so much of a better person. Years later, I got a dog of my own and had to come up with a name. Malachi means “messenger of God”. Not only was it a kind of fun, funky name for a fun, funky little dog, but it would always remind me of the lessons I’d learned from my first dog.

Malachi is almost two years old, so recently we decided it was time to see how he’d do outside his crate for a whole night. The experience made me think of me and God. In other words, my dog, was an example to me of how I should be with God.

I didn’t sleep well that night, acutely aware of the 15lbs of dead weight in the middle of my bed. Malachi was curled up tightly against my stomach or my butt or my side. Whatever piece of real estate he had access to, that’s where he was glued. But whenever I would move, he would leap to attention still half asleep, but ready for whatever I wanted him to do. He slept hard all night and when the morning came and he was ready to get up, he was persistent and wouldn’t leave me alone – but he didn’t get off the bed until I said, “ok, let’s get up…”

David Berkowitz said his dog talked to him and that’s why he killed his victims. So let’s just be clear here, Malachi isn’t talking to me, ok? I mean, I’m not that weird. But stick with me for a sec, while I explain myself…

Malachi stayed connected to me even while he was asleep. He changed positions, from his initial spot under my chin, but he never lost contact. He never went off on his own – he always maintained a connection with his master (James 4:8). Whenever I moved, he was up and ready – whenever he thought I wanted him to do something, he was ready for it. He didn’t know what it was that I needed or might need, and he was sort of in the middle of something, being asleep and all…but regardless, his master might be wanting him and so he was ready (Matthew 24:44). When Malachi was ready for a change, he didn’t do anything without my ok. He was diligently communicating anyway he was able to. He communicated with his master without ceasing (1 Thessalonians 5:17).

So, there it is. Just a little reminder that I got recently, about how to live out my Christian walk…from my dog. I suppose he’s really living up to his name! :)

Love y'all!
~M~

Happy Birthday, Jesus

Mary, did you know

that your Baby Boy would one day walk on water?

Mary, did you know

that your Baby Boy would save our sons and daughters?

Did you know

that your Baby Boy has come to make you new?

This Child that you delivered will soon deliver you.

Mary, did you know

that your Baby Boy will give sight to a blind man?

Mary, did you know

that your Baby Boy will calm the storm with His hand?

Did you know

that your Baby Boy has walked where angels trod?

When you kiss your little Baby you kissed the face of God?

Mary did you know…

The blind will see.

The deaf will hear.

The dead will live again.

The lame will leap.

The dumb will speak

The praises of The Lamb.

Mary, did you know

that your Baby Boy is Lord of all creation?

Mary, did you know

that your Baby Boy would one day rule the nations?

Did you know

that your Baby Boy is heaven's perfect Lamb?

The sleeping Child you're holding is the Great, I Am.

...Originally written by Mark Lowry and Buddy Greene...

I Found God in a Viral Video

I read a blog recently that I really liked. The author made a pointed effort to see God in everyday places. In 2010, I will read the entire Bible. I’m sure it will be an experience and I’m confident it will create more God sightings in my everyday life… a spiritual “Where’s Waldo?” of seek & find, if you will.



2009 has been an awesome year for me. Not awesome as in “totally rad” but awesome as in “showing or characterized by awe”. This year has been a journey. Some days I’ve felt wholly alone. Other days, I could clearly see God at work. But every day has been a journey forward.

When I watched this corny little video, the first thing I noticed was the song. A song that described my failed efforts. 2008 was a year I experienced an intense love, intense loneliness and a great valley season in my life. 2009 was a year that I healed from those things. The song was descriptive and upbeat…and funny. T talked about make effort after effort and failing. I liked that the song made me smile, when usually songs about struggle are usually sad.

As I listened to the song, I started watching the video…a squirrel trying to get to over a hurdle. But the squirrel was small and the hurdle was so large. I’ve felt that way before. When I was healing from love, or when I move to a new place. When I try to make changes in my life that will improve myself or my circumstances. God tries to help. He shows me again and again how to do it. He meets me where I’m at, and shows me that it can be done. But I’m afraid. I’m too small. I need a lot of help. Someone came into the video and left a backpack for the little squirrel. The little squirrel resisted at first but, then, came back and tried it. It didn’t work, it was a false start.

Then another opportunity comes along. God comes with me up to the hurdle and then he goes ahead, “You can do it – come to me!” and I have to figure out how to make it work. This time something is different and I make it. I have figured out how to make it over the hurdle and God and I are off to new adventures and challenges. But even though I’ve conquered the hurdle and it’s behind me now, I know that I might not have made it over the hurdle at all without the help of people around me who are watching and who care.

There are several concrete walls in my life that I’m in the process of scaling and I’m sure that in 2010 I’m going to make it. “You can do it – come to me!” God is saying. And with the help of those around me, I will! :)

Love y’all!
~M~

I am Ready

...to put God first

...to begin a new routine

...to move (again)

...to honor my boundaries with my family

...to run (literally, not figuratively)

...to see Maryland with healed eyes

...to build a community in one place

...for another year of adventure

...to read the whole Bible in a year...the same year, lol...

...to make new friends, enjoy the old ones and love love love!

"Don't you 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!"
1 Corinthians 9:24

I AM READY!
 
Love y'all,
~M~

Use Me

It’s been a busy couple of weeks. I’ve wanted to write, but it’s felt like my senses are on overload. God has been showing me so many things. I’ve been so aware lately of the people God uses and how he uses them.

Exhibit A: Matthew chapter 1 – the lineage of Jesus. I heard a speaker at Women of Faith speak on this chapter. Her point was that Jesus, by nature shook up the status quo. Evidence of that is seen in Matthew 1, where women are acknowledged at all in Jesus’ lineage, since it is (or maybe was, I’m not sure) Jewish custom to follow family lines by the male and not mention the females at all.

So, we have an attention grabber just by the simple fact Matthew identified four women in the first five verses. But what’s more – is who these women are. Rahab was a hooker. Before she joined the Jewish people, Rahab hid Israelite spies in her home as they prepared to invade her city. Once she joined the Jewish people, she married Salmon (yes, Salmon, I read it twice too) and together they had Boaz. Boaz married Ruth.  We all know and love Ruth. Her story is the story of dedication. Her story is where my favorite marriage verse is found...

“But Ruth replied, "Don't urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the LORD deal with me, be it ever so severely, if anything but death separates you and me.””  – Ruth 1: 16-17

But Ruth, was a Moabite. That means little to nothing to us now…but back in the day, when Matthew was recounting Jesus’ family tree, the audience would have recognized this fact. Moab was the son born to Lot and his eldest daughter when, after fleeing God’s destruction of Sodom and believing they were the only people left she seduced him. The Moabites were a people who came from an act of incest and Matthew’s audience knew this.

Ruth’s great grandson, was King David. David had a relationship with Bathsheba, who was married at the time to Uriah. Together, David and Bathsheba had Solomon…and 24 generations later came Joseph – husband to Mary, mother of Jesus.

Exhibit B: In Community Bible Study, we’re reading the book of Acts. This week, we learned more about the city of Antioch (Acts 11: 19 – 12:25), among other things. With a population of approximately a half million people, Antioch was the third largest city in the Roman Empire. It was also known for being the most crooked and corrupt city in the Empire. It was 300 miles north of Jerusalem and near enough to Tarsus that Paul was referred to by his pre-Christian name, Saul. It was in this city that we – Christians – first got our name. Prior to the Gospel reaching Antioch, Christians as a group were nameless. But the pagan believers in that city labeled Christians by the God they worshiped. Pagans provided the name we identify with our faith some 2000 years later!

So lately it’s been kind of hard for me to feel unworthy of being used by God. He uses prostitutes and He uses people from the wrong “class”. He uses entire cities known for sinfulness, for crying out loud. He can certainly use me.

It’s kind of a scary thought! :)

Love y'all,
~M~

Walk with a Limp

Almost two years ago, my grandmother slipped on some stairs and broke her hip.  She bravely underwent a total hip replacement and then diligently worked in numerous physical therapy sessions to regain use of the broken part.  Last year, when I was home for Christmas, I could tell my Gramma had a little hitch in her “giddy up” and she always had her cane in hand.  It made her feel safer, she said, when lots of people where around.  This year, I was home again – this time in August. Gramma’s cane was often forgotten in a different room, there was a barely noticeable limp and the only time she really reported trouble with the hip, was if she slept on it at night.

In the last month or so, I’ve really felt led to make peace with someone I thought I was done with – for good.  It was a gradual feeling that would come to the surface and lodge there for several days, until I was able to convince myself it was my imagination and stuff the feeling back down…only to have it resurface a day or two later.  We’d tried a couple of times before, but for various reasons, true peace was not a result of those efforts.  Finally I reached out again and was curious and relieved when he reached back.  When I think of peace, things certainly aren’t how I would’ve imagined them to be with this person.  But I know they’re how they should be, because I feel different.

For me, with understanding came forgiveness.  A moment came, when I could clearly see the place this person is currently in and I could understand the associated behaviors that have impacted my heart in such ways.  I was surprised to realize that I didn’t feel anger, but…compassion. Selfless compassion.  And with that, came peace without expectations.

Forgiveness is such a difficult thing.  Even when your brain understands all the details and you want to forgive - your heart can still be like my Gramma’s hip.  Sensitive.  Touchy.  Injured.  Consistently since I rededicated my life to Christ almost three months ago, I’ve earnestly sought God and tried multiple times to find forgiveness for this person, who hurt me so deeply.  Like my Gramma’s physical therapy, it’s been painful and difficult.  There were (and are) times when I’ve wondered if it was working or worth it and times I’ve wanted to give up completely.  But just like my Gramma, every day was a new day to get better.  I clung to God the way she clung to her physical therapists.  Believing Him, when He encouraged me to take another step – to try again.  Like Gramma, I knew this would be for the best and I would be glad someday…some distant, unidentifiable day in the future (lol).

My Gramma was protective of her hip as it healed and I’m trying to be more protective of my heart now.  We both know our limitations – and what to lean on – as we mend.  I’m cautious not to forget my crutch – especially with this person.  But I’m feeling safer and less vulnerable when other people are around.  There’s still a slight hitch in my giddy up and if I put too much pressure on that part of my life or how I relate to that person, pain will still flair.  Overall, though, I’m learning that healing completely isn’t a prerequisite to forgiveness (which also means it's probably time to apply these lessons to other people in my life who might need some forgiveness...grrr...).  Through understanding and forgiveness I’m healing up well.  Better able, everyday, to use my broken part…and some days, I hardly notice that I still walk with a little limp. ;)

Love y'all,
~M~

First in My Heart

I’ve been struggling a little.  I think it started with a busy schedule that took me out of town for nine days out of the last two weeks.  I’m sure there was also stress coming from the holiday season itself and the impending family relationships and dynamics.  Tonight I returned from visiting family in the San Francisco area.

Although I’m relieved that the visit went well, I’m also aware of feeling more distant from God.  I’m realizing that in my business and anxiety, I probably pulled away from God.  When times got hard, I instinctively and unconsciously behaved as though I could handle things on my own.  So I’m also starting this week aware that I have another out of town trip in a few days – but also the awareness that I need to make time to be with my Father.

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” John 10:10

“Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.” Psalm 51:10

“Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.” Proverbs 3:5-6

“Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free." John 8:32

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” Isaiah 41:10

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28

“Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.” Hebrews 11:1