To be Old: Ungrateful/Grateful

You know what I found out today: I am super ungrateful. I knew this, but I knew it was real when I almost let ill-will and yesterday's bad day taint a really good thing that happened today.  And even though my mind swirls with negative thoughts (still), there is one awesome good thing that I want to hold on to, and that I declare WINNER OF THOUGHTS today:

A couple of months ago, I was sitting in the waiting area of my doctor's office, and wrote this down in my phone:

I find myself jealous of old people. Sagging skin and age-spotted hands gripping a Kindle (go figure) or a Sunkist. With movements that are a slow motion version of 20 years ago. I wonder if they sit here thinking the reverse of what I'm thinking: "what is that young girl doing here?" I know why they're here: they are old.  But what communion does a 20-something have with these men and women in their 70s, 80s, maybe even their 90's. They have begun to break down. Parts have begun to cough and sputter, and the well oiled machine, that is the body, needs tune-ups more often than in the past...and I've joined them! My eyes get a little misty at just that thought, but then I wonder: will I join them?! Will I ever get to be old? Some people are afraid of getting old. Wrinkles. Incontinence. Surely those things suck majorly...but man, I just want the chance to get there. 

I almost cried reading that on my Blackberry. I really sat there, thinking these things, being the only young person in that office.I was clearly super negative that day, and subsequently felt much better, more positive, more delivered. But on that day, I felt like garbage. But then today, I had another doctor's appointment during my lunch break. And it was great! It was flat out great! At the end of the appointment, instead of the doctor ordering another round of blood tests, and instead of the doctor telling me to come back in 1 month, and instead of her giving me yet another scary diagnosis for me to go home and cry about she said:


"Everything's great! You look great! I love your haircut, by the way! So, how about you come back in say a year?" 

A YEAR?! I get to come back in a year! Like a normal person. Nothing is wrong with me. All tests clear. And for that, I am extremely thankful. Thank you Jesus. Thank you friends who supported me through the hard times. Thanks mom! Thanks everyone!  

It's that Time of Year: LENT! (part 1)

Disclaimer: Even though I made the image up top, the size of the words, font, ordering, spacing or any other details about the actual letters don't mean anything. These "sacrifices" were ones I've heard this week, and those I've poached from websites citing things to give up for Lent.

Well, it's that time of year again. I won't lie to you, I've never actually given anything up for Lent, since I'm not Catholic. I've always thought of Lent as a Catholic construct with absolutely no root in scripture. Yes, Jesus fasted for 40 days in the wilderness before his crucifixion, but why does that mean I can't have a protein-filled slab of meat of Fridays? Who came up with that? Fish Fridays! Rude. What if I honestly don't like fish? Then I guess, for me, it's Soy Friday.

In any case, I've been thinking a little bit about what I might give up for Lent:

1. Give up meat
2. Fast
3. No Dexter

Blah, blah, blah. It all seemed so lame. Especially because WHY am I doing this? Why does one specific time of year, more than any other, require that I try to strengthen my relationship with Christ? Shouldn't I be doing that every day? All very legit points, but at the same time, Lent can be a springboard. It's like the New Year's of Christianity. It's a time where we resolve to do better by God, and we start thinking about what we should sacrifice in our attempt to do this.

So what to give up? There are the cliche few that EVERYONE gives up: chocolate, facebook, etc., etc. But how do those sacrifices get you closer to God? What, of God, will we replace the chocolate and facebook with? How does God view chocolate and facebook? Are they sins? Are they vices? Idols? The whole thing is very confusing to me.

This morning while I was praying and reading the scriptures, I stumbled upon what my Lenten sacrifice should be:

Psalms 51:16 - 17

There it is. God is not pleased with our external sacrifice. Back in the day, they might have sacrificed a few more bulls, or killed a few birds and sprinkled the blood on some stones. IDK. But what this scripture is saying is: God has no need of those things. And this is in a time when burnt offerings and sacrifices were definitely in play. But even then...that's not what God wanted. I don't want to deter anyone's Lent plans, but I think...God doesn't want your chocolate. Nor does He want the password to your Facebook account. What he really wants is a broken spirit, a broken and a contrite heart.

How do we go about giving that to Him? Thoughts?

There's No Such Thing as a Free Toy!

When I go home to Toledo, OH odds are I'm going to run into my nephew Kayden. Usually, when I'm there, he becomes like my shadow. He wants to go where I go, play video games with me, be taken to the park. Things which usually are greeted with "NO." However, I've sometimes had to take him to the grocery store with me. Now, if you don't have a kid, a niece/nephew, or godchild that you're forced to cart around from time to time, you may be unaware that the grocery store has a toy section. You might miss it because you go there for (gasp!): FOOD. I would think toys are for Toys R Us, Walmart, or Target...it is not for your neighborhood Giant (or in Toledo's case: Kroger). But it's there, and kids know EXACTLY where it is. So, I've taken Kayden to the grocery store with me enough that we have a routine. It goes something like this:

Kayden: Tis?
Me/Tis: What?
Kayden: Buy me a free toy? PLEASE!

PAUSE - Of course, a child doesn't see it, but there was something ridiculously oxymoronic in his very question. You see it right? UNPAUSE

Me/Tis: What have I told you?!
Kayden (with sad eyes filled with disappointment): You're broke!
Me/Tis: Umm...no, the OTHER thing
Kayden (grumbling, with understanding and even more disappointment): There's no such thing as a free toy.

Once he has made this admission, we go into the toy section where he has ONE MINUTE to pick out a toy, which is usually a Star Wars action figure (there are storm trooper heads all over my mom's house).

SO WHAT?

That's right. I'm a thief. But for real...so what?

Well, I decided to share this story, because this morning as I was praying, I said:

"And I thank you Lord, for this free gift of salvation..."

The words weren't even completely out of my mouth when I thought of me and Kayden in the grocery store haggling over toys, which might have seemed free to him, but that I actually have to pay for. It was like this was happening:

Me: Thanks for the free salvation God!
God: What have I told you?!
Me (with hope in my eyes and a mischievous grin): That you freely give me all things?! (Romans 8:32)
God: The other thing.
Me (with understanding): That you gave your only begotten son, that He was...in fact, a "ransom" for me. (John 3:16 and Mark 10:45)


Disclaimer: I'm saying it was LIKE this happened. Not that I heard the audible voice of God. Not that I'm saying a person can't hear the audible voice of God, I'm just saying that I have not been so lucky.

We've all heard sermons about "costly grace." It's real. It may seem free to me, but it cost a LOT. And of course I know that Jesus died for my sins, but I never thought of it in the simple terms of "there's no such thing as a free toy." I liked it, and thought I'd blog about it.

Friday in France...sorta

As I have said before: I like to spend my Fridays on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, unwinding completely. While I would usually sit and watch episode after episode of Dexter (I'm hooked), since I have viewing buddies now (who are not available tonight) I instead watched a French romcom called L'arnacoeur (Hearbreaker). This flick reminded me why I adore foreign film...especially those of the French variety. There is something so unique, but yet cliche about French romance. The lead man is always so sensual without being obscenely gorgeous. This puts your focus on his character, his personality, his intellect. On top of that, he's just so male. And he's so romantic. French films create an ideal that--quite frankly--is not healthy for single girls to let into their spirit.

What do I mean? I mean, I was sitting here thinking: I want ALL of this to happen to me. Which is ridiculous, because this movie is crazy outlandish. It's ridiculous because really, I'm happy when guys do the simple stuff: ask you out for dinner and a movie. But this takes it to a different level. At one point, they break into what is like a mini-french version of Sea World and swim with dolphins. It was super romantic despite:

1) There would be WAY better security
2) I feel like the dolphins aren't always in the pool
3) They jumped in that water w/o hesitation...I would be afraid at first (this may be due to my inability to swim though...)

Now, I won't accept less than crazy outlandish romance! (hahaha, I will accept less--possibly way less--but now...I won't be "wowed"). This got me to thinking, besides great french films, what else ruins women's perceptions of love? What else can take normal "wow" factor and turn it humdrum? This is what I came up with:

1. The Notebook
2. Romance novels
3. Lying friends
4. The rare, over-the-top good guy

The Notebook

Noah to  Allie: "If you're a bird...I'm a bird." Why do we fall to pieces for such drivel? Or
Noah to Allie: "So it's not gonna be easy. It's going to be really hard; we're gonna have to work at this everyday, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever, everyday. You and me... everyday." Need I quote more?

Romance Novels

The best romance novels take a girl's most implausible fantasies, and makes them plausible for a heroine that you can identify with (because she's plucky but yet vulnerable; independent, but yet ready for love; blah, blah, blah). You start the romance novel with the mindset of: "this is fiction." But by the end of the novel, you start to think "art imitates life...or life imitates art...WHATEVER" and start to think that no one could just dream up love this pure; this has to be based (however loosely) on someone's life experience. Well, ummm...actually NO IT DOESN'T. But don't let that deter you from losing yourself in the ridiculous fun of a good romance novel. Check out this list of what some consider to be the 10 Greatest Romance Novels of All Time. I know for a fact, that I've read two of those.

Lying Friends

Okay, our friends may not be liars, but they've got what I'm talking about next: the rare, over-the-top good guy. You know, the guy who calls the manufacturer and has them custom-make you a shoe that is no longer being sold in stores because he knows how badly you want it. Or the guy who changes your tire...in the rain, in the mud, with a suit on (because he came straight from work to rescue you). Or the guy who puts his coat over a freaking puddle so your feet don't get wet (does anyone actually do this?!). Everyone has a girlfriend who tells you a story of the awesomeness of their boyfriend, fiance, or husband who is sooo freaking great you just want to smack them. You think these are lies, because you've met this guy. He doesn't seem that gallant, but clearly, when you're not around he turns from Clark Kent (who wasn't that shabby at all) into Superman (who is clearly a step above Clark Kent...no glasses and slicked back hair!!). However, lie or no lie, this girl makes you want what she has, a romance novel without the binding...because it is written on her heart (like the word of God...bahaha).

The Rare, Over-the-Top Good Guy

Who are these fools? They are the people who actually would build us a house (a la The Notebook). I know these guys. They are married to some of my friends. It's legit. These are guys who own books called 1001 Ways to Be Romantic, and who think up about 1001 more ways to be romantic on top of those, because it's in their blood to be awesome. And trust me, that is a rare blood type. That's the AB- of love.

Maybe it's not unhealthy; I think we should hold on to some of the fictional idealism. It's fun. In any case, I'm happy to write this post. I had fun writing it. I hope you had fun reading it.

Happy Friday!!

Our Friendship is Over!

Long time, no post right?!! Anyway, there are these animated computer movies that are kind of all the rage right now on youtube. So...I'm watching a couple during my lunch break, thinking: "I can do this!" And so I did. It's an amalgamation of 1) friends who create mountains of love out of the smallest speck of boy attention, and 2) my theory of why single girls often lose their married friends. So here goes, my first movie!!!

Part Joke




Part Serious

There’s a certain solidarity in being two (or three, or however many) single women. It’s like you instantly have something in common with someone who you don’t actually have anything in common with. For the brief time that you are both single, you share the same hopes, the same dreams, and the same goals…the same desire for a life lived with a good man. And we wonder why we lose our friends to marriage? Maybe it's not the marriage that precipitates the loss, but rather, the natural dissolution of a friendship based on mere circumstance and necessity. Is it possible that we need this friend just to see us the through the storm? I think that sometimes we’ve been out in the rain so long, we don’t recognize that we’re only standing under the umbrella of friendship so as not to get soaking wet. Soaking wet. But the raindrops still hit us, we step in puddles of loneliness, and we yearn for sunny days. It’s crazy to think how the sun can shine on one person, and yet leave another totally cast in darkness.

Heavy.

But for real, I don't believe this to be true of all friendships. We know the rules, 1) some for a reason, 2) some for a season, and 3) some for a lifetime. Marriage, however, can be a test of where the friendship falls in that spectrum. Sometimes we don't even have to wait for marriage. Sometimes a serious boyfriend can shed light on the truth of a relationship's foundation. Are you someone they want to stand by, or are you merely a stand-in?

Food for thought.

So there you go, my part joke/part serious for the month.

Watch Night 2010

This is it: Watch Night.

I grew up thinking (even though no one explicitly said so) that Watch Night was when the faithful congregants of our church gathered to "watch" for the coming of the Lord. I have since learned, that it's just the way that we traditionally ring in the new year. With prayer, giving thanks for the prior year, fellowship, and Holy Communion. So...given my error in thinking, I decided to look it up: Watch Night.

There is a lot of information, some of it reaching back to John Wesley, which then links back to the Moravian Brethren. Things I know absolutely, positively, NOTHING about. So, I had to look back to the first night service that meant something to ME. Culturally. And for me, the first Watch Night service took place December 31, 1862.

And so on December 31, 1862 hundreds of thousands of African slaves were hoping for their freedom. Why? Because on January 1, 1863 is the date that the Emancipation Proclamation was to be signed. That was the first Watch Night, slaves anticipating the arrival of change. It probably wasn't a religious service that first time, though I'm sure some people prayed. That first Watch Night was undoubtedly about hope. And it's fitting because every New Year's Eve, the world over holds an element of this feeling. This awesome feeling that the thing we want most...that it can actually be had. It can be HAD!

Personal Application

My 2010 had some terrible parts. Parts that, honestly, I don't want to take into 2011 with me. But there are some things over which I have no control. Things that I cannot resolve to do. So this year, instead of New Year's resolutions, I have New Year's hopes:

Job 4:6 - I hope that this year  my confidence is 100% in Christ, and His Will for me. Confidence in my "righteousness" and in my "piety" and the expected resultant blessings is super dumb. I'm hoping that I don't take the bad advice that Job's friends were giving him.

Job 6:11 - I hope for endurance and faith that never fails. I hope and pray that the Lord blesses me with a new measure of faith. I don't have to depend on my strength in order to maintain hope, because when I am weak, then am I strong (2 Corinthians 12:10)

Romans 5:5 - I hope for hope. I know that hope never fails, or leaves me feeling like an idiot (I often feel like an idiot). Why? Because this particular hope is based on my knowledge of God's love for me.
 
2 Corinthians 1:10 - I hope for my deliverance. Certain perils have already been overcome...and those are faith-builders, hope builders.

Those are my hopes. But I have to live them...like they're real. That's the way to become free. On January 1, 1863 there were lots of people who just trusted in the proclamation and walked off. They just walked off like: "yo...I'm free. Deuces!"  Others just waited for someone to tell them they were free. I spent a lot of 2010 sick and lonely, but I'm not waiting for a doctor, or some dude to tell me I'm free. My hope is in the Lord, and I'm boldly walking into 2011 claiming happiness and freedom (not necessarily physically...but in all realms of my life) based on my hope in a proclamation that's like two thousand and ten years old (give or take a few years):


If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed.

Happy New Year! 

Friday Night Fright!

My eyes become heavy. My limbs become cold. My head starts to get that fuzzy feeling, and my breathing becomes slow and difficult. It’s a reaction. A bad one, to be sure. Not quite a panic attack, not quite a tantrum…because there is an element of acceptance in it. There is an element of defeat and self-loathing because I’ve done it AGAIN. I have agreed to go out on a Friday night.

I don't really like going out on Friday nights.

That’s right! I said it! I have kept this secret for fear of derision and judgment. Judged as this loser who likes to snuggle up on the couch in sweats watching movies or catching up on TiVo because they have no friends and no significant other.

Well so be it. I LIKE movies and my TiVo is backed up for miles. I'm behind on The Good Wife and Modern Family. Also, umm...I ADORE sweats. And I have friends! A significant other? Uh...the Lord has not yet seen fit to umm...don't worry about that! That's SO not the issue. We’ve all heard the cautionary tale of the single girl, alone and dateless on Friday night, but truth be told, I don’t think I have ever felt depressed regarding a Friday night in. 

Caveat 1: Saturday is different. If no one calls, texts, e-mails or otherwise tries to contact me on a Saturday, I feel like a social pariah. Friday serves its purpose, but Saturday is for partying. If there's no party, my eyes well up with crocodile tears and pastors may need to be contacted.

Caveat 2: Likewise, on Sunday afternoons, if no one hits me up for brunch and a movie, tears gather at the corners of my eyes. If Sunday isn't met with eggs benedict, or a sushi dinner with friends, or at least a long walk (not in the winter...never in the winter), then really...it's just laundry day. And that is super demoralizing. 

But on Friday…if the phone rings, if g-chat lights up orange, or a chain e-mail graces my inbox…I get a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach as a realization hits me: the Friday night I had dreamed of is dead. Deader than a doornail (bah humbug).

Perhaps saying that I "dream" up a certain Friday night is misleading. It's more that that. On Friday’s I sit at my desk, in my cold office, in Arlington , VA and I fantasize of sleeping. I dream of going home, throwing off the work clothes that so easily beset me, sinking my body into soft high thread-count sheets, curling rapturously beneath warm blankets and letting my mind empty of worry…empty of meaning as I drift into perfect naptime. I know you may be thinking: Girl…you have seriously over-romanticized a nap. NO! This is real to me.  Some people dream of Mr. Right. If you’re an accountant, you dream of sleep. On Friday’s when someone invites me out, my mind says yes, but my body screams no. It’s like a secular war between spirit and flesh. Sad. But all I want is naptime. And when I wake up...at say 1 or 2 am, I then watch TV, play on the internet, watch movies, and amuse myself until the sun is up because I CAN. All that dissipates with a dinner in D.C., or ice skating at the sculpture garden, or a night of dancing. 

Don't get me wrong. Once, I'm doing the aforementioned things...I'm having a ball. But you can't get the Friday back. You can't reclaim lost sleep, and TiVo just gets more backed up. Stop asking me out? Please don't. But please know what that hesitation and trepidation is before I give in. That's me hearing the "che che che che, ha ha ha ha" of Jason coming to murder my Friday.  

Side note: Isn't that little picture so cute?...Jason can't kill anyone because it's the 12th and not the 13th! Hilarious!

That is all. Now, I'm heading out to dinner. Ciao!