Saturday, 31 December 2011

Airplane conversations... which is pretty open-ended so I'm gonna go ahead and say Part I.

I was flying yesterday, bidding my stay in the sun farewell to soak up all that is grey sky central.  Hey, but it's home.  So anyway, there's a couple sitting next to me.  And I notice her ring first, obviously, because it's big.  And then I notice what they're up to: meal planning!  And for the outsider looking in, this is like a parade on Envy street.  Two souls, uniting to plan their destiny.  It's just pure poetry.  And then I notice his ring-BAM-married folk!  And young!  And like me in a lot of ways but in another world!

So I'm thinking to myself, trying not to completely lean into their space with my curiosity, about how "cool" their life together must be.  They're probably students, studying late hours, books everywhere, just happy for the chance to sit and have a meal together-which they are now preparing for in advance.  I saw "chili" and "yogurt covered fruit" as the list of their Meals to Freeze.  Ahh, reach for the stars kids.  The world is yours.

But then this plane ride takes a turn.  Not literally, otherwise  we could have ended up in Utah.  Although at one point, it's so turbulent that Mr. Married does spill his Jack and Coke everywhere.  On the Kindle, even.  Rough. 

Anyway, somewhere near the end of the trip, as the husband is taking out his Kindle, obviously to read from it, while he has his headphones on, the wife says, "Can I talk to you about something, if you're not doing anything else?"  Well, I was actually.  But sure.

She proceeds to lay out for him a wide range of scientific study which suggests that... a bed should only be used for sleeping.  Reading in bed, or doing anything stressful in bed (she mentioned "homework", zing! I was right about the books everywhere in their apartment!) can be disruptive to the body's ability to go to sleep in that same spot.  So she suggests, get ready for it.. chairs.  Chairs in the bedroom is what she is suggesting to him on this flight.  And she's doing a great job; "I think there's enough space.." followed by, "A lot of people have them.." and finally, "I just-the studies.. it's what they say."

And then he says "Ya. Sure. Sounds good."  And now turns his Kindle off and takes his headphones out because we've reached that altitude in our descent where it's "no longer cool", as one flight attendant pointed out, to have your electronic devices on.  And so he pulls out his gun magazine, but before he turns the first page, "I'm really glad you like the idea!"  "Ya."  And the only question he asks is "Wait, what kind of chairs are we talking about here?"  To which she replies, "Oh nothing very expensive!  Just some small chairs.  Maybe even a love-seat so we could sit together and read!"  To which he replies, "Ya. K. Ya."

As soon as those three ticks of noise are out, his eyes are focused on the gun magazine.  And then she proceeds to further the conversation, "I mean, it's not like we have to sit there every night or anything, it's just..."  Eyesoffpage. "Ya." Eyesbackonpage.  He obviously doesn't care to talk about this any further, yet she keeps plowing through.  She will magically will the small, inexpensive chairs into their bedroom with her words.  

Does she know that he doesn't care, that he would rather be reading about something about a gun which seems like the worst thing in the world to read about but who am I to judge?  Or, does she knowingly not care herself, like she has a point to get across and she'll do it come Desert Eagle or .44 Magnum?  And lastly, is that going to be me?!  Will I be that girlfriend/wife/slave to the kitchen?!  Are those what marital conversations are like?  I mean, I get it... you have to have conversations about necessary, but not necessarily fun for everyone subjects.  Chairs in the bedroom.  I get it.  But what will I do when, while I'm talking about something important to me, all he wants to do is read about guns?  Is that something you just get used to?  Or should he have said, "Can we talk about this later?  I just want to play on my Kindle."  Should he have said that, or would there ever be a better time for him to be interested?  

After that conversation between the two people sitting next to me, I thought, "How will I ever marry a boy?" ... Stay tuned to find out!

Don't be ridiculous.

I know you well enough to know that you've-at least once... a day-had the urge to apologize for something that well, really you don't need to apologize for.

Picture me, hobbling among the Arizona Foothills.. in fact, it might just be easier to picture a crippled Tibetan monk and add a backpack.  There!  You found me!  I thoroughly enjoy spending time climbing the hills, but I couldn't help but feel self-conscious.  Why you might ask?  A flare up of some juvenile arthritis in my left ankle causing me to ginergly, oh so gingerly, cascade down the mountain slopes like a woman who is literally holding all the time in the world in her backpack.  It's embarrassing.  But why?!  Every time I encountered someone on the same path as me I wanted to explain myself, "I don't actually usually travel this slow, it's just that, well, my arthritis doesn't usually do this to me, you know, I can walk faster than this-but it's swollen... it hurts."

I imagined that people were snickering behind my back about the "that girl who is sooooo afraid of falling".  Nooooo, I promise I'm braver than I look!  It's just... THIS... FOOOOOT!!!  I even thought about how much easier it would just be for all of us in the mountains-wildlife included-if I just wore a t-shirt that said "I've got arthritis okay?!"  Then everybody wouldn't have to wonder about the helpless girl who could use a walking cane.  Or a scooter.  Or a para-glider.

Isn't that dumb?  You don't have to apologize to anybody for whatever you're working with!  And honestly, probably nobody has even noticed anyway.  The people I met probably didn't realize, or care to give my sight more than a second of thought.  Stop worrying about what anybody else thinks!  Go and hike!

Friday, 2 December 2011

I'm that woman.

You see me in the grocery store standing in front of the sale ice cream in the frozen food section that I passed with my cart 3 minutes ago.  I returned.  And now I'm doing the routine "Shouldiiii-shouldiiiinot-shouldiiiii-shouldiiiiinot" dance in my brain. 

"We don't really need ice cream."
"Oh wait.. I do love Skor."
"Skor's on sale!"
"Skor's usually 8 bucks!"
"...Skor's still 6 bucks...."
....shuffles away...
"BANANA CREAM PIE?!"
"Would I even really eat it?  I mean... banana flavour is a tricky thing to get right... and it's 6 bucks."
"But it's on sale. It will never be six dollars again.."
"That's true.. It will never be.."
"If I had to choose between Wunderbar and Skor what would it be?"
"The container of Skor says it has 3 whole bars in the ice cream!"
"But I'm realizing that Skor is a relatively thin candy bar.. and three isn't a very big number.."
"But it's always nice to have ice cream in the house."
...puts the Skor ice cream in the cart which is sitting unattended and lonely 20 feet away....
"Ya, ok this is good."
....takes steps 1, 2, and .....
"I really can't justify paying six dollars for something I do at home for cheaper."
....puts ice cream back in its rightful place...

I did a similar dance at the checkout with a FoodNetwork holiday edition magazine.  Long live (because there's no such thing as short lived) indecisiveness.

Monday, 28 November 2011

Allow me to formally introduce this thing I'm doing..

This is an entry about the introduction of my Bible study series on YouTube.  I thought it might be useful to have a written accompaniment to the video.  Not that I don't talk enough in the video, I do.. I talk.. a lot.  But sometimes it's nice to have some kind of commentary about it.  What are the main points that I tried to highlight but uhh, didn't quite manage to articulate?  That's where this will come in.  TA-DA!  Magic bells are chiming.

So... the Introduction.

This video probably doesn't actually include any Biblical reference specifically.  It's just to introduce you to the format and to get you thinking about what I'm thinking about.

1.  You have a story!  Whether you wish you acknowledge it or not, you have some kind of role on this soap opera.  And how you embrace or hide from that role is up to you.  But remember, the grand story is of God's glory.  How does your life reflect that?

2.  If you want to really be involved with a God who wants the best for you, if you want to be blessed, and grow in wisdom and in faith, well then you've gotta dig into the relationship.  Prayer isn't just a before bed routine.  God wants to hear from you-sad, mad, elated, devastated-he wants your full scope of emotions and he wants you to bring everything you have to him, knowing that he can make it beautiful.  And he wants you to listen to what he has to say.  Listen to his voice, read his word.  As you do this, you will become more familiar with his character-he won't be such a stranger anymore.

3.  You're holding onto something.  Be aware of what you pack to take with you every day.  I'm not talking about your leftovers in tupperware.  I'm talking about baggage.  Your thoughts and feelings about yourself, the people around you, and God.  These affect, no, these determine how you travel every day.  If you carry a lot on your back, you're not going to opt for climbing the side of a mountain.  Too risky.  You're going to stick to the path through the woods by yourself so that no one can see how hard it is for you to carry the weight.  At this point, I'm not telling you to get rid of the baggage.  That's no easy task.  I just want you to be aware of it.

Watch the video here: http://youtu.be/Gnb6tBOyO-I

Sunday, 20 November 2011

I wear a t-shirt that says "Fate loves the fearless". It's Nike. And I don't really wear it, but it sits in my drawer.

So I had a character realization on the drive to the grocery store tonight.  I'm really a scaredy cat.  Really.  Scared.

Let me elaborate.  I enjoy adventures. 

I do not enjoy, I in fact avoid any adventure that would lend itself to expectations for success.  I wrote a book-some of my family doesn't even know this.  I don't talk about it.  I mean, I do, but I brush it off rather quickly.  I write this blog.  I think I've told maybe 8 people?  I do not broadcast my bloggness to others. 

And it's not that I'm passionate about the projects that I have going on, but it's that I care so much that I feel like I have to hide it or act so casually about it so that if I fail then I won't feel so stupid.  This is the worst news bears.  How does one change their entire body chemistry to embrace failure as the greatest lesson?  I don't want to be afraid to fail!  I don't want to be afraid to advertise everything that I'm about.

I have this book that I wrote sitting in my hands, sitting in boxes in my house, and I wondered why I haven't sent the book out to Christian ministries, to churches, youth groups, whatever.  Why haven't I done everything to share a message that I think is so critical for people to hear?  Because I'm sooooo afraid to step on that plank!  What if I can't swim?!  What if I absolutely sink to the bottom or worse.. get swallowed up by a shark before even hitting the water?!! 

And then, I remember.. doesn't God go before us?  Doesn't he work all things for our good?  I would certainly proclaim that, so how come I can't remember that?  Theories are so much easier to carry around in pretty journals and notepads than in our hearts and minds.  Practicing theories is the tough stuff. 

I'm waiting for someone to paranormally search for exactly what my ministry is about, pick me out of the crowd, and run with my idea.  I want to sit back.  I want to latch onto something that's a "sure thing".  And yet, Paul never had a sure thing.  Really, the only thing he was sure of was that he would endure persecution wherever he was going.  And I'm afraid of some "failure"?  Time to man up.

And ever so fitting, here's the latest Bible study video.

 

Sunday, 13 November 2011

The art of killing.

Do you know what kind of blogs are my favourite to look at?

The kind that just show stuff, one after the other-the most bizarre, luxurious, delicious, impressive adjective, beautiful people, places, and things.  It doesn't take long before I'm absolutely dazed by "....that CHANDELIER!", "that cute little type writter replica!", "oh-my-goodness-that view!!", "look at those cupcakes! eeeeeee!" and I'm lost in the labyrinth of all things blog worthy.  Time just passes by.  And it's funny because I look at that time as a void, a waiting period between events A and B in my life and I just need to...


kill time.

I found myself thinking that before work a few days ago.  I had about half an hour before I needed to leave, maybe a little less, and I just sat on the computer hoping that something interesting would pop up so that I could make the time go by faster.  End my life sooner, essentially.  But see, I don't think about time in terms of my life, not in this case.  It was a meaningless interval of space, needed to be used up so that I could...

move on with my life.

Hellooooooo, life didn't go anywhere.  You live your life in this instant.  And I find myself horrifingly too often wasting my life.  Waiting for something to happen.  Dreaming of things that could happen.  And the same coudl be true on the opposite end as well.  Some of us are too busy to live.  We need to go go go so that we can get get get so that we can be be be ...happy?  Why don't we just start at the "be" part right now? 

I want to stop wasting so much time studying at other peoples' accomplishments, opinions, etc. and focus all of that time on what is relevant to me in my place on this earth.  I want to stop oggling at lamps and plots of land for sale next to a peach orchard in Georgia.  I'm doing.  No watching, wasting, killing.  Make the most of your life.  It's short and one day you will answer for it.  I don't want to be a murderer.  I don't want to kill time. It's a gift after all.  It would be a shame to ruin a gift wouldn't it?

Tuesday, 8 November 2011

For days when you think there's a package coming in the mail.

I got the notice this morning. 

There's a package for me, waiting for me a the Post Office.  I tried to scramble through my head about something I might have ordered for myself but I couldn't think of anything.  I tried to find any possible reason that it wouldn't be a care package from someone that loves me.

And then the ideas kept floating around in my brain.  "A handcrafted thank you gift from my former Bible study leader", "a friend of mine sent me a letter..." "someone annonymously sent me some kind of encouraging gift.."

Oh, I spun those ideas 'round and 'round.  I presented my piece of paper to the attendant and she went into the back room. "I wonder how big it will be..."

She returned and handed me my Skin Id parcel, a regular non-exciting parcel, which usually arrives directly at my house.

A bitter pill.

Fast forward about 12 hours and I'm crying in my living room because I've asked God to give me a best friend and I still find myself by myself.  And it's been a year almost exactly (because I would have to reference the journal for the precise date) since I removed the person that I cherished as my best friend out of my life.  That person is still not back in my life and that's okay on a regular day but on a day like today it feels really lonely. 

And I don't know how to build my dreams for my future and I feel like everybody already has their best friend.  There's no one next to me in bed; no one calling me after their shift to ask how my day went; no one who chooses me.  On a night like tonight I feel like it's fifth grade gym class and the teacher tells us to partner up and I'm the odd person out.  Destined to sit in the corner and observe. 

And I know that's not how it is.  I see beyond tonight.  And I realize that people feel this way across the board-North, East, South, West.  It's a pretty universal character: Loneliness.  I don't know if talking typing about it makes the loneliness any easier.  I'm not sure if acknowledging the community of it makes it any less lonely but I do know that I am a whole.  No friendship, no bond, none of that completes me.  In marriage there's this weird thing where two become one, but they were each one before.  Not half.  You're whole. 

And there's great freedom in that.  Freedom that should not be taken for granted.  If you find yourself in the corner observing others' lives while you waste yours, then stop it.  You don't have to play whatever game they're playing.  Go make up your own!  Wrap yourself up in the love of an eternal God!  Learn to sew! Bake cookies for the homeless and turn it into a business! Read 18th century literature out loud because it pleases your ear! Whatever! Concentrate on being a full whole, not a measly half looking for/needing someone to complete you. 

You're more interesting as a whole anyway.

Monday, 31 October 2011

That inner self dialogue really needs to end.

Today was a day of firsts.

I was desperate enough to use body lotion as hair conditioner in the shower.  It was a toss up between that and baby oil. 

AND

I started running today after an extended period of time off.  I ran in the beginning of the summer but I haven't run in a long time because of my arthritic ankle.  Today however, I got back at it.  And on the treadmill of all things.  I think my outdoor running will remain a wish for the next five months.  It's getting pretty chilly out there and ice terrifies me. 

So I went on the treadmill, and ran slooooooooooooooowly.  And after a few minutes I could feel my shoulders getting warm and little beads of sweat were starting to form on them and it was an incredible feeling.  To do something simple, to appreciate my body for its physical capabilities, to be in a state of thankfulness-that was good.  But no sooner did those beads of sweat form than my brain started to do a little number crunching.

"You know, if you started running for 30 minutes every day and did interval training every other day then it wouldn't be long before you could run 10k and then you could start doing stretches first thing when you wake up in the morning and doing crunches and squats and lunges three times a day, once in the sand, just to give your muscles a little boost.  Ya, that could work." 

We never let ourselves just feel good without trying to process what's next.  We've already moved on from our accomplishment, however big or small, and start scheming of how we could do better.

Well what if we stopped focusing on doing better and try to just do?  Just DO something good for your body.  Don't think of how you could have done better.  You'll end up feeling bad about your efforts and chances are you won't do that good thing again. 

You don't have to be the best.  I plague myself sometimes with thoughts about writing a perfect blog.  There's probably only four people reading this, including myself, but sometimes I think there's really no point because "I'm not the best writer, or the most captivating to read, or the most relevant to everyones' lives.." so therefore why bother?

Bother yourself with things that are good.  Do things that are good but don't obsess that they aren't the best.  You'll drive yourself into a circus of failed achievements.  Don't decide that you shouldn't serve chocolate cake to your guests because it's not the world's best chocolate cake.  Do it with love.  Don't get on the treadmill because you need to lose 50 pounds before Christmas.  Do it because you love your body. 

You only become the best after trial, trial, trial, and a little tribulation.  So just do something because it's good or because you love it. And tell your inner wacko that today your good is your best. So good for you, you fearless and mighty warrior. Be brave and do good.

Thursday, 27 October 2011

I lost it at work.

We were having a conversation about pitching in money to buy a cow for a family in a third world country.  Certainly it started out innocent enough.  And then a coworker suggested that maybe we should help the people in our own country first.  A valid, valid point.  We should not be so busy looking in the distance that we forget about those sitting at our feet.  But for some reason, I perceived his comment as a lack of compassion-hot his intention at all.  And I yelled.  I raised my voice and started twisting my neck the way I do when I'm upset and started pointing my finger all over the place.  Disaster. 

And when someone chimed in to defend him (with valid points of his own), I refused to listen.  It was a hot bed of controversy.  Over African children and North American children and my coworkers, all of whom are in need of help in some way.  How ignorant for me to turn a conversation about helping into an argument about who desires it more.  It wasn't a great example of Christianity, and I was kicking myself almost immediately afterwards.  I apologized for escalating the situation and some accepted, others didn't.  And I almost started fuming all over again when one of the guys didn't care to hear my apology.  LET ME APOLOGIZE.  Give me redemption! 

But no.

We mess up.  And sometimes we do a really good job of it.  But redemption is ours regardless.  Look for it in the right spot.  On that note, here's the first episode of BB Studious.  It's about grace.

Sunday, 16 October 2011

Something like a low budget micro mini-documentary.

Here is the first installment and introduction of my YouTube Bible study series.  What it lacks in special effects it makes up for in heart, I hope.

Saturday, 15 October 2011

Warm feelings for a Chill Bill Vol.1 kind of day.

Today the kitchen was a beehive of activity.  My mother and I: chopping up yams for fries, making peanut butter and honey combinations for squares, boiling soup for the poor souls outside, and letting the cheese biscuits in the oven do their thing.  Ahhhh, it makes me anticipate Christmas.

And while all of that was going on, my video-my first BIBLE STUDY VIDEO-was being uploaded to YouTube.  It's stilllllll being uploaded to YouTube because it's apparently a gargantuan size file.  Must be because of my big personality.. heh..heh..

But I have to say that it's kind of scary to put something like that out there!  What if no one watches it?  It's nearly 15 minutes long; I wouldn't entirely blame them.  But I'm really jazzed about the whole thing.  So naturally, as creative types we want others to see our vision in whatever project we're doing.  I guess that's people in general.  We like acknowledgement for what we do.  And I'm scared that I won't get that.

Also, I'm worried that this isn't the perfect way to do it.  To which I reply, "Well of course it isn't.."  If you're waiting for the perfect opportunity to share a vision, speak about your convictions, whatever, you'll probably never end up doing it.  Not everyone is going to like what you propose, but you can't look for satisfaction in the opinions of others anyway.  My dad encouraged me to go for it.  "You won't accomplish anything by not doing it.  And you'll probably do it different next time.  But you're doing it.  That's what matters."  Genius!  That is what matters.  Yes a plan is good.  But don't plan something that will only work on the day that the sun eclipses the moon while winking coyly at the earth.  It's not going to happen. 

Turn your idea into actuality.  Don't let them fester in your brain until you throw them away completely.  And maybe you'll do it "better" next time but there is no chance to edit until you actually put something out there.  It's scarier than a Haunted House and well, more rewarding I would say.

Thursday, 13 October 2011

This feels like Twitter.

I was in Wal-Mart ten minutes ago and I saw a book about a little boy's experience going to Heaven and as I read the back of the book (I've seen it many times before), I teared up because that boy is telling his story.  He's excited about that story.  May I be as excited about mine.  And you, about yours.

About the simple things.

This morning was particularly blustery and damp.  The kind that makes my parents have conversations about Mexico and Arizona.  Winter is approaching and for us, that means a good five month committment.  To dry skin, soaked shoes, slippery parking lots, and a lawn full of snow angels. 

But this morning when I went to grab a spoon for my granola and strawberry greek yogurt, my favourite spoon was sitting right at the top of the pile.  Simple but not unnoticed.

Monday, 10 October 2011

I was never good at counting sheep.

I can't sleep.  It has something to do with my frequent cough and stuffy nose and something to do with my afternoon nap.  Maybe also something to do with the Coke that I drank at 10 when I came home from work.  Typically, a little Iron Chef can woo me into dream land, but no, not tonight.  I have to get up early tomorrow morning to make a pecan pie and try to bake my yam fries at the perfect time so that they're still crisp when we arrive at my aunt's house tomorrow. 

But I can't help it.

I've been working on and off on developing my online Bible study based on some universal (I'd like to think) themes in the book I wrote.  And the more I think of it, the more I'm compelled by the people in the Bible who struggled along with us!  Moses.. not a public speaker.. leads a million people from the hand of Pharaoh.  And I'm reading through Exodus right now, so I'm just getting started with these Israelite people, and I have to keep reminding myself that they're just like me.

I've always automatically assumed that believing God was easy for them because they were in "that" time.  It didn't occur to me that people in every age of history are still people-stubborn, afraid of change, (to name a few atributes).  And I'm thinking about what that must have been like... for some Hebrew stranger from the country to barge in on the people living in Goshen and say, "Get ready because God's getting you out of here."  And it doesn't happen right away.  And Moses probably looks foolish.  And how does he know that God's actually going to come through for him?!  That's some kind of faith. 

And then, on a totally different brain wave, I'm thinking about that woman in John 8 that is supposed to definitely most certainly get stoned (you know, killed) and yet she doesn't.  There's a crowd listening to Jesus and these ultra religious guys bring her into his presence and basically say, "How do you suppose we get rid of this garbage?" 

They say she deserves death.  He tells them that everyone does.  And then everyone, feeling a little sheepish and/or infuriated, leaves.  And it's just this adulterous woman and Jesus and he-the very person of God-tells her, "Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more."  (John 8:11)

Sweeter words have never been spoken to this woman, I'm sure.  He frees her.  He sees her for her potential and not for her past, probably for the first time in her life.  He not only saves her life but he restores her soul. 

And so I'm just wide-eyed at all of these kinds of things that are coming to life in the Bible and I only hope that I can translate it into the study well enough that others will be inspired by these things.  So, I'm thinking about that and I'm thinking about pecan pie.  And my stuffy nose (for the fifth night in a row). 

Thursday, 6 October 2011

No, he didn't.

So I asked my parents the question about Jesus and we didn't really have a concrete answer and tonight as I was laying in bed (trying to sleep!!) I suddenly realized that no, Jesus didn't take a "sick day".  I'm not saying that Jesus was never ill.  No, it's likely that he spent his fair share of days feeling physically not up to par.

BUT [this is so important], at a moment's notice he tuned in to what was the top priority in his life.  He had his mind set on Heavenly things, not earthly things.  Take a look,

"When Jesus heard what had happened [the death of John the Baptist], he withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place.  Hearing of this, the crowds followed him on foot from the towns.  When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them and healed their sick." -Matthew 14:13-14

He initally goes to be by himself.  But the crowds follow him.  And when he saw them "he had compassion on them and healed their sick".  He feels awful and yet he goes ahead and heals them!  He knew that his temporary, human sadness was not as important as the faith of those people.  That's the most incredible thing I've learned today.

And I guess I should have known this answer from the beginning, considering he died on a cross because of where his priorities lay.  However I can't help but be struck by it.  And it reminds me of my principal from Bible school who, after finding out about his wife's miscarriage, couldn't help but praise God anyway.  Unreal priorities.  Unreal as in "other wordly" or "not of this earth".  Something to aspire to. 

Wednesday, 5 October 2011

Did Jesus ever call in sick?

I understand that Jesus was God.  But I don't really understand how he was BOTH man and God.  Last night I was struck with the flu, so much that I could barely lift anything.  Every part of my body ached.  It hurt to look at anything; it hurt to close my eyes.  And it continued on today.  I'm better now but I spent most of the day sleeping, and oh yeah, almost fainted/threw up in my neighbour's house.  I felt awful. 

I called my boss and told him that I wouldn't be able to come into work today.  It's Pasta Tuesday at the restaurant.  And I was supposed to close tonight.  It might have been the worst day to call in sick.  I called my mom (who wasn't at home) early this morning to ask her when she was going to be back. 

And I wondered, "Did Jesus ever call in sick?"  Did he ever take a break?  Did he ever get the sniffles and spend the day in bed, even as a youngster?  Or was he always "about [his] Father's business"?  I mean, he was fully man so he must have been ill at some point in his life.  He must have eaten some bad seafood or something right?  The only reference to anything remotely like this was when Jesus heard that John the Baptist had been executed.  The Bible says that he went to get away from the crowd and mourn but it goes onto sya that the crowd followed him... and he began to teach them.  He was mourning the death of his dear cousin, but the people didn't even give him a chance.  And he didn't object.  How?? 

I rescheduled things so that I could rest and I'm not even very sick, and by no means am I mourning.  Is this just an opportunity to show us that we can do nothing in our own strength?  I'm really not sure. 

What about terminal diseases?  Whose example do we take from?  What would Jesus do with cancer?

Thursday, 29 September 2011

And there you have it.

You know what?

I had completely forgotten that I had written that post about prayer.  About the solution to big problems.  I remembered that I wrote about big problems but I forgot that I already had a solution.  I had forgotten about the solution because I had forgotten about the problem.  In a matter of days I could be passionate about something and sweep it under the bed of my mind only to become easily excited about it all over again as if for the first time.

And prayer always sounds better in theory than practice.  I don't want to physically kneel beside my bed and talk to God.  I want to curl up under the covers and mumble things to God while I doze off. 

So I guess I'm convicted to pray.

A luxurious problem.

And on the subject of big problems.. what convicts you? 

What gets you out of bed in the morning to get on your knees?  To run to the computer to type? 

Does anything convict you? 

Not so many generations ago my forefathers risked their lives and said goodbye to everything they knew to start a new life.  They were convinced that it would be a better life.  And I'm sure it was a worse one before it got better.  But it got better.  It got so good in fact, that just a few years later their great-grandkids didn't even realize that there was such a thing as a hard life. 

It's really hard to be motivated sometimes, while I sit on my cushy bed with my matching pine bedroom furniture.  But Christians are being killed in China and orphans in Africa and unborn babies in North America yet I go to sleep every night undeterred. 

And that makes me sick.  But tomorrow it will make me indifferent.  So when do I raise my voice?  What absolute disgrace would have to happen in front of my eyes for me to do away with complacency?  And if I don't raise my voice, then who?

And truthfully I don't know where to begin and I get overwhelmed just thinking about it, but I guess that just means that the only place to begin is right beside my bed.  Because whatever I do in life doesn't matter much if I don't hear "Well done, good and faithful servant.", at the end of it all. 

So what am I going to do about that?

Thursday, 22 September 2011

Well of course.

I had a conversation with a friend of mine last night.  She was telling me about how she was trying to help her friend fight through her depression.  She admittted that she was struggling because the problem was too big for her to handle.

Well of course.

And I mean that in the most comforting way.  We should take great joy in knowing that our problems-about co-workers, our health, paying next month's rent-are far too big for us.  They will swallow us up if we don't do something about them.  But what can we do? 

We can pray.  And like Max Lucado suggests in the fifteenth chapter of Outlive Your Life, we should "pray first; pray most".  More than planning it out or reasoning it out or number crunching it out we should pray it out.  Because if we can do it all on our own then what do we need God for anyway?  If we are self-sufficing beings, controlling when we die and how we die and never have to sweat over bills, or the treadmill for that matter, then we don't need a mediator between us and Heaven.  If we can get there ourselves then Jesus doesn't matter. But we can't.

And poverty in Africa is too big of a problem.  Poverty in your own town is too big of a problem.  And your attitude towards your negletful father is too big of a problem.  You can't handle it.  But there is power in prayer, and the Lord hears us when we speak.  Isn't that the solution?  That the God who actually made the universe also has control over it, also knows your inner being enough to carry you through the hard, overwhelming stuff when you call on him?  Couldn't he do that?  Doesn't he do that?

Well of course.

Just a [petite] thought.

I reached up in the cupboard this evening for a snack and pulled out a bag of Nibs candy.  These weren't just any regular ho-hum-harry Nibs though, these babies were "Super Nibs". 

Awesome!

Just like the "Super" bag of Lays S&V chippity chips that I see in the grocery store aisle while I'm shopping for organic apples and broccoli.  How strange.

So what makes these snacks so super, superior to their fellow Nib cousins?  They're in a big bag.  The "super" refers to the size of the bag.  And no, I don't think you're unaware of this, but I do think it's an interesting observation.

Conotation plays a big role in marketing.  This bag of sugar treats has SUPER written all over it so it's hard for me to feel ashamed while toting them and waiting in line.  However, if the bag said "Extra Large" or "Plus Size", would I still feel as super?  Or would I now associate this larger sack of goodies bundled in my arms as an obvious sign to all the fellow grocery shoppers of my poor eating habits, thus contributing to an overall dissatisfaction with my own body? 

Does "plus size" shrink my confidence?  And why isn't there a size called "Extra Super?"

Someone could do an experiment on this.

Saturday, 17 September 2011

The meaning of life is _______.

I just deleted my 100+ albums on Facebook.  It's a new era. A more professional, more purposed era.  I hope. 

Yes, yes before you flood me with comments that Facebook does in fact still have my photos because I gave up the rights to them when I posted them in the first place.. it's cool, I already knew that.  It's bogus, but I hope they enjoy the multitudes of tongue-sticking-out and crossed-eyed funny faces and high school musical dressing room photos.  Merry Christmas, Facebook.  And yeah, I'm sure I'll post more photos on Facebook-it's so hard not to!-but like I said, purpose.  Fingers crossed.  I'm a photo junkie.

But tonight, as I sat on the living room couch drinking a tall glass of orange juice (a real treat in my house!), I looked down at my leopard print elastic harem-esque-make-me-wanna-be-a-professional-choreographer-pants I decided that today was a big day.  Because today I got an answer.

"What do I doooooooooooooooo?"  has been my theme song (on repeat, dreadfully annoying) since the summer ended. Summer is about working and then trying to get off work early so that you can be in a boat, on the lake, at least in the sun.  And then I had an end of summer vacation to top it all off.  Saved myself some decision making time.  Passed out a few books.  Had a few meaningful conversations.  All good.  But then I came home to my bed and, while I appreciate the way my mother rearranged it so that the sunlight hits it in a certain inspiring way, its still the same ol bed.  The same bed I sleep in before I go to the same job.  Arrggh routine. 

But I've been reading my Bible in the mornings, journaling, jogging, and in some way its so mundane, so everyday life, and yet it's so magnificent!

Melissa, honour God.  Live a life full.  That's precisely what you do.  Focus on Christ and well, if he can orchestrate something like the solar system (orbit and all!), then your future is probably safe.  Soo... from here from this bed, from that job, in these leopard print shimmy shakers, that's my life full

I know this is such a tired theme, but I can't help that it keeps recurring because I keep forgetting.  Here's hoping that you're like me.. otherwise you swear you're never coming back here. 

Tomorrow's task: making supreme caramel apples with my momma and a lot of focused prayer time.    

Thursday, 18 August 2011

That moment.

That realization at 2:27 in the morning that "this is what I'm made for", that moment is what  I should strive for every day.

That moment that is worth sacrificing sleep for because it tunes you in with a God that so cleverly (too cleverly for full comprehension) placed each part of you in such a way as to fulfill the plans he has for you. 

That is the air I breathe.  And the rest is toxic, makes me sick.

And by some kind of speechless grace, I'm alive.  Against all odds, breathing. 

Wednesday, 17 August 2011

Monster chip madness

For some unforseen and stupid reason, I've started this new habit. 

Every time (as in the last four of four times) I'm in the grocery store I make my way through the list-thick or thin-and then, as if I'm pulled by some unspeakable galatic force I make a sharp turn and zoom into the chip aisle.  And it's always the same thing. 

Ketchup chips.

Lays ketchup chips.

What?! 

I don't really understand this phenomenon.  Chips aren't my favourite thing but for some reason every shopping session ends with me, in the car, ripping open the bag of chips and absolutely demolishing all that I can before I get home.  It's weird but I'm not sure how to stop it.  I am propelled to the chip aisle!  For no other reason than ketchup!  I didn't even have chips on the list!

So, that's today's shopping chronicle.  Annnnnnd I almost bought a magazine strictly because Beyonce was on it (glittery and great).  And I almost bought a wedding magazine because it was so thick and dare I say juicy.  I didn't.  I bought those dumb chips though.  

Help me.

Tuesday, 16 August 2011

A message is always delivered if God wills it.

Finally!  I was in a boat today.  That's a first of the summer, and sadly, probably the last.  But hey, I got in.  I didn't even go fishing but I sported a lifejacket so I can go ahead and check that off the summer checklist.

In other pending accomplishments, I have an interview with the local paper tomorrow and the local radio station the next day.  No big deal.  This is local stuff.  It's not the hardest thing in the world to get in the paper.  BUT.. this is for the book.  A book I wrote.  So I'm supposed to be the expert on whatever I said.. and sometimes I can't even remember what I said!!  That seems bad to me.  So while I'm actually freaking out a little bit because "what if they ask me complicated and challenging questions while I'm live on the air", I remember that it is the Holy Spirit who will give me the words to say.  No worries.  God's got this.  So instead of rehearsing captivating answers in front of my mirror (which I did for 30 seconds while I was in the car today), I'm deciding instead to spend that time reading the Bible and praying for guidance, that I might be a vessel. 

So, in light of that, I will let my words be few. 

Tuesday, 9 August 2011

So I guess this makes me CEO?

So this morning I attempted to self-photograph pictures of myself playing the piano, balancing a spinning globe while sitting cute-sy on my worn red futon.  Awkward.  My brother aka my manager-regarding-all-things-book-and-actually-any-side-projects-involved-with-said-book told me that I had to make myself an EPK.  (Electronic press kit if you're not familiar with the term... I wasn't)  This consists of a biography (written by me in third person), a mission statement (probably not everyone has a mission statement in their kit, but given the nature of the kind of press I want to attract, it's probably important) and lastly.. some photos.  We eat with our eyes!  They need to see the product (the book) in some creatiave context (... cue the spinning globe). 

We had a family meeting last Saturday regarding the book over some oatmeal rapsberry pancakes and peanut butter chocolate sauce.  Pan fries were also present.  And I realized what I actually already knew.. I'm not good with the numbers!  I would rather just not talk about the numbers.  I would rather leave all of those logistics kind of questions unanswered, just shrug them off.  That's why someone like my brother is key.  Because I wouldn't make myself a EPK.  I would just assume that people would.. come.. to... me?  I'm not actually sure, but I definitely didn't really have much of an action plan.  But self-timer photos.  That's a little tricky!  No flash!  Natural light.

So this morning I stayed in my kitten and puppy moo moo, threw on a mustard yellow cardigan, left the top buttons open ('cause that's inviting), tried to wipe some shine off my shiny face, decided not to put any make up on or brush my teeth (they'll never know) and thought up scenarios that would make good photos.  "Oven mitts!"  "Next to the hymnals on the piano!"  "Fork and knife as a bookmark!"  I'm not really sure why I'm giving away all my secrets.  Now you're going to see the photos and laugh because... I wasn't kidding!  But it's this cool little weird process that I'm enjoying thus far.  I'm definitely considering and will likely be buying my own domain name.  I'll put the blog on it, don't fret.  I would like to bring things together.  Blog, videos, book, all in one place.

On another note, I'm getting a zit the size of an angry boil on the side of my neck right now.  And I'm getting closer and closer to paying off my tuition from my infamous time spent at TWU.  And I've been trying to not eat wheat for awhile now and things like "All Girls' Potluck" keep intefering with it.  I'm proud to say that a good number of my friends can really throw down in the kitchen.

On a completely different note, I looked for prices for skydiving in Vancouver (because I'll be there at the end of the month! Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat!!) and when the lady said "It would be in your best interest to choose the $259 option" I kissed my "best interest" good-bye.  Slightly disheartening but overall I'm absolutely thrilled to be back in the GVA for a few days.

Thursday, 28 July 2011

A cookie and a story

The funny thing about summer is that I feel like it's the only season that really has finality to it.  The others seem to transition so well into each other (except for spring, which kind of takes it's sweet time around here).  But summer has a definite ending.  I assume that everyone who has ever gone to school feels the same way.  It's our pseudo New Year.  More people will ask you what you are "doing" in the fall than in the new year.  You'll be approached in grocery store aisles, at the clinic, in line at the bank, wherever, about what your "plans for the fall" are.  Listen, I'll tell you right now I have no idea.  I have whimsical dreams and hair brained notions about what I might like to do, but honestly I don't know what will come of it all. 

Basically I want to talk about the book I wrote.  I want to speak to girls in churches and public schools and small groups and ask them what they think they're worth and who they think determines that. 

My latest idea was (as of yesterday) to create cookie recipes that corelate with some themes in my book and package them in little brown paper... cookie bags?  and have an excerpt from the book on the bag.  It combines some crafting with baking with marketing witiness with the actual book which is-zing!-kind of amazing.  I want to feed bellies and I want to feed souls.

So I'm going to have to run this idea by my father.  And he might scoff at the idea, but I mean.. you've gotta start somewhere right?  I don't want to sell my book at local book stores, I mean, maybe I would, but that's not the core focus.  I want it to be personal.  I don't just want people to order the book online without knowing my story first.  I want to talk with people, share stories, and encourage each other.  That's the dream. 

And I've been meaning to ask my brother to help me organize some kind of I-hate-to-use-the-word-'tour'-but-oops-there-it-is, however my pride is getting in the way a little bit.  I don't like to ask for help, even though surely he could do the job better than I.  But he could also decline, which would put me in an awkward spot. 

And what does all of this mean for my "plans for the fall"?!?  That's a good question. 

Monday, 18 July 2011

Pretty optimistic for a Monday.

Happy moon dances, the birthday was a success. 

I hope you weren't worried.

And now that it's over, it kind of feels like summer is drawing to a close.  I realize that it's still July but I feel as though the climactic action of this summer story has already transpired.  Now we're just dealing with the aftermath.  And what does a 21 year old do?

I've really felt lately (the last four days) that I should sell my stuff, fill my car with my books, and drive around North America and talk to anyone who will listen to me.  Fingers crossed for that deli guy on the East coast.  That's the dream.  Just boppin' around like a chick-a-dee-dee-dee.  I just read yesterday about Jesus telling the people around him that if they wanted to be his disciples they should sell everything they have and follow him.  And in that moment he meant it literally. And maybe still does.

I'm just so young, plenty of time to collect for my nest.  And ripe enough that I could navigate through an adventure, I think.  But I can't even keep my room clean.  And I'm not sure what I'll actually end up doing but it probably won't involve getting a post-secondary education.  It might even involve staying at home, paying rent, and working at Boston Pizza.  These things I don't know.  But exploring the options is almost half the fun I would say.  Just me and my journal. And my camera. And uhh, gas money.  That sounds about as delightful as homemade strawberry rhubarb pie (which I already made a dough for and will bake the rest today!). 

And I hope that you, whoever you might be, are getting to that place of discipleship, whatever that looks like in your life.  That might be on the 17th storey downtown.  That might be on the carpet with your newborn.  It could be anywhere.  But I hope that everywhere you go, your mission is the same.  And that we might be so fortunate to have our msision and our passion fuse together to create our unique and individual purpose.

Thursday, 14 July 2011

Birthday wishes.

Today is my birthday and instead of being far too busy celebrating to even think about writing on this thing, I'm sitting here and there are tears running down my face and I can't imagine talking to anyone except whoever you are.

And if you ask me why I'm crying I'll give you a dumb reason like:

When I returned from work last night after midnight and was locked out of the house, my dad didn't even wish me a happy birthday but managed to explain to me that if I left the key in the ignition of the car which was sitting in the garage all evening, the battery would die by morning.

When I walked up the stairs this morning I was greeted with a candle on top of a pile of icing covering the crumbs of a piece of cake that someone (probably me) didn't finish. 

We had leftovers for lunch.

We bowed our heads to pray and no one piped up so finally my mom lead us in "Come Lord Jesus be our guest, May this food to us be blessed. Amen." I felt like no one wanted to pray for me.

The lunch conversation consisted of farm talk and rental properties.  I sat in silence.

My dad directed his attention to me to tell me that he asked my cousin to do a fish fry for dinner.  And that would be great except for the fact that I hate fish.  I mean, I don't hate it but I certainly never ask for it and rarely eat it when it happens to be around. My mom loves it. And the worst part is that it seemed like he thought he was doing something really thoughtful for me.  And my mom kept asking in front of everyone, "Isn't that nice of your dad?"  And what was I supposed to say. 

And so aftter excusing myself from the lunch table I came down to my room and started bawling my face off because there is no one on the planet that I feel like I can call to say "I'm having a fishfry for my birthday" and have them know exactly what I mean. 

I can't help but realize how ungrateful I sound.  But these emotions have a lot to do with the fact that I just released my book into the world wide web early this morning.  And that's unbelievably scary. 

Thursday, 30 June 2011

NOMAD. I mean, how could you be?

I was sitting in a van on the way to celebrate my aunt's birthday and I noticed the tall pine trees with their green leaves at the top and I immediately thought about bamboo trees and how much I want to go to Thailand and see the bamboo forests.  And how I want to go back to the Gothic quarter of Barcelona and lose myself in the tiny, slightly spooky, streets.  How I want to compare the sand on the beaches in Egypt, Croatia, Chile, and Australia.  I just want to go.  But I have no money-even less since I backed my car into my uncle's camper.  I can't help but want to go and meet people.  To look into somebody else's big brown eyes and say, "I understand you."  I want to study the life of a deli owner in New Jersey-ask him what his favourite cut is and what he thinks about God.  I just want the chance to ask the dancers in the Russian Ballet academy which they would choose if they either had to inherit a) arthritis or b)  a permanent 20 pound weight gain, and if they could love themselves with either.  I want to hear the dreams of the girls in Kenya who carry water on their heads for as much as six hours as day, eliminating their chance at an education.  And I want to see the bamboo trees. 

Will I ever?  I'm not sure.  But a dream is a precious thing.

Wednesday, 29 June 2011

In my next life, I'll be a computer whiz.

Uhh, I just wrote a solid post.  It deleted itself.  A little rude if you ask me.  I don't have any desire to re-write it but it was about the impending doom of summer's end (a preliminary freak out), wanting to make good pizza from scratch, the benefits of summer birthdays (burger bars and eat-pie-until-you-die themes work better than in the winter, suckers), why Folk Fest is going to rock my sockless feet once again, and other good stuff that you'll never know about.  And truthfullly I've already forgotten so we're in the same slightly empty boat.  Sorry guys. 

Wednesday, 22 June 2011

A little cantata for summertime.

I plugged my book into actual book making software today!
I plugged my book into actual book making software today!
I plugged my book into actual book making software today!
I plugged my book into actual book making software today!

x 10
Repeat chorus after the last stanza

Seriously.  Perhaps I'm celebrating too early on this one but my book is no longer just a WORD document.  It's a real, living, breathing book with dreams and flaws and it's just waiting to be read by the masses.  I know at least twelve people that will read it.  Ok-celebration over.  I gotta go to work, but I will be smiling from ear to ear.. until I remember that I have to close. Work on your dreams people! Some days they turn into actuality! The WORD document stage doesn't have to last forever.

Monday, 20 June 2011

Some thoughts... while eating IHOP in bed.

1. This IHOP is so good.
2. I wonder how I can make those XXL t-shirts I bought into cute dresses.  I don't even have a belt.  Must buy belt.
3. It's crazy how they stuff the French toast with cream cheese.  Little magicians in that kitchen.
4. I think that people sacrifice things that they love for stuff that they like.  We like to spend money on things that will make us feel better about ourselves instead of investing that money into things that we're actually passionate about.  I'm not saying that this is a rule with no expections and I'm not saying that everybody does this all of the time.  But I do think that we have a few insecurity/vanity issues on this wildly bountiful continent and I think that it ultimately distracts people from what they were meant to do.  Because you think that those jeans are going to make you happy, so you buy them, but then when you wear them you still manage to get your feelings hurt by some guy/your best friend/a stranger.  And so you need to buy a sundress, that sundress that you've had your eye on for awhile, and honestly you look stunning in it.  And is it bad that you buy the sundress?  Well, no.  But is it best?  Is that the best investment you could make with that money to ensure that you live a full life?  Hmm, maybe, maybe not.  It really depends on a lot of things but it's something to think about.  When I go shopping I often envisualize the kind of compliments I might get if I wore that article of clothing.  It gives me the motivation to buy it.  And of course, as my friend pointed out, some people just really love fashion.  So I'm not about pointing out people in changing rooms and saying "You don't need that."  but I am saying that the whole process of buying things  is worth some self-examination.  And the same can be said for interior decor.  Woah, woah, woah.  Talk to me about that in five years, or whenever I'm fixing up my house.  That will be my problem.  Right?  Because you always want to have the best! house! ever!  And that's usually not cheap.
5. I really need a belt.

Saturday, 11 June 2011

Thanksgiving minus the turkey

Just when you think that you have the right to complain life kind of gives you a reality check.  Today was a "sad day".  I just woke up knowing it, comitting the feeling to my bones for the time being.  The kind of day that you'll find me lying in bed under the covers with a sweater on!  That never happens.  I like to be as barely clothed as possible when I'm in bed but today I wore khakis and a sweater to slumber in.  I gave myself a headache thinking about the money I spent on gas on a vehicle that I'm "forced" to drive because my regular vehicle (which is actually my parents') isn't co-operating properly at the moment.  And I stress over it.  And isn't that crazy, like absolutely nutty?  I live such a fantastical life that I can afford to spend time stressing over details like that?  That's a luxury that most people on this planet will never know.  And I went into the bank in a panic because I wasn't sure if I paid my VISA bill on time and to deposit some money into my line of credit.  I went to school on someone else's money and then dropped out.  And now I pay it back on my time.  Mind boggling.  And sometimes it just takes one glance and I realize that my kelly green khakis and coral pink underwear remind me of a watermelon, which makes me happy.  But sometimes it takes hearing about someone elses' pain and their triumph over such harsh circumstances that slaps me in the face and makes me say, "Oh okay, I get it."  Goodness, selfishness is so crippling.  Deciding to be unhappy for the day?  That's actually sickening to think about.  Who am I to have anything to complain about next to the great abundance that I know as "normal"? 

Wednesday, 8 June 2011

I'm still not done painting my tree!

I was just in the middle of making my dinner (okay fine, cutting up strawberries) to pack for work tonight when I remembered that I wanted to write on this. 

So, a few days ago my brother and I had another confrontation.  I don't remember how it started, a comment about Lady Gaga, a comment about my cereal-it really could have been anything.  Well, it turned into a bit of an emotionally charged conversation.  We have always seen the world very differently.  And by the end of the conversation I was in tears, telling him that it made me sad that he couldn't see me as anything more than a "liberal".  That's the box he puts me in and I think it's so stupid.  It actually enrages me because he does not know me and for someone who could be such a supportive figure in my life doesn't even think taht my ideas, my perspective is anything but "liberal", which he thinks is the worst thing ever.  He actually asked me to denounce my liberal status.  First of all, that is weird and kind of cult-ish?  Second.. I can't even explain how dumb that sounds and how upset it makes me.  I told him that I was sad that we didn't have a better relationship and then he explained to me that I was a person who believes in minimum wage (and I'm not sure that I do...I haven't really done my research) and laid out the facts as to why that concept wasn't beneficial and we could simply never see eye-to-eye.  He answered my plea for a relationship with an economic analogy.  And he finished by telling me that my lifestyle was basically a waste of time and that I was going to "love people all the way to Hell".  But everything happens for a reason.  Our relationships are given to us for a reason.  I know that in the end, we both want the same thing.  It's just sad to think that we can't accept eachothers' terms for how to get there.  So that was a rough conversation.  It makes me a little bit more indifferent to him in some ways, which is bad.  He's my only sibling.

And then, I finished editing the book and asked my friend to edit it (she went to school for that kind of thing) and I found out that she's moving after living here for two years.  What timing hey?  So I've been trying to figure out how I would get all of this worked out, how this would actually happen.  And I realized.. what makes you think that YOU can't just do it all?  Maybe you don't need an editor, a publisher, a someone else.  Maybe God's words are enough and you don't have to have a published author, but just a girl with something important to say.  If the book isn't perfect, that just further proves how flaws can be used for powerful things.  So instead of making the book a huge production, maybe I can just throw it out there for whoever is supposed to read it.  I really like that idea.  Simple.  So that's what I'm excited about right now!  And the fact that the Canucks are 2-1 in the final series right now. Ow, ow!

And one final thing.  This afternoon I went to get groceries for my momma and my car was on empty but there's a gas bar at the grocery store so I decided to head there after finishing my shopping and parked the car.  Well, when I got back in the car it failed to start.  I ran to the gas bar and told one of the girls working there (who I happen to know) and we pushed my car to the fuel pumps.  Hilarious.  I love it when those kinds of things happen (conditionally-I wouldn't love it if I was running late for something, for instance).  So I filled up the car with the money that my mother graciously gave to me and was ready to be on my way when.. oh wait.. the car still wouldn't start.  I thought I was in big trouble.  Big financial trouble.  My brother (the same one I just talked about) drove into town to see what the problem was.  And he didn't know and we were actually going to park it when a man came to help us.  He boosted it (the battery worked fine, so I didn't think that would help) and that was that!  He certainly didn't have to stop and spend his time on helping a stranger. 

So, whatever it is that you are convicted of, whatever makes you passionate, continue on that path and listen to others' opinions but keep your focus.  That's your path.  And know that if God calls you to do something, he will equip you with all of the tools necessary to perform the task-with excellence.  Have faith that wit him you can do anything.  And finally, help those you see in need, and when it becomes your turn, don't be too proud to accept help. 

And I've been having some killer dinner parties lately.  I will try to post some pictures soon!  There's one left-Asian themed.  I'm busting out the fake acrylic nails.  Crouching tiger, hidden dragon.

Thursday, 2 June 2011

Just a quickie!

No, no I haven't forgotten!  I'm not being lazy!  I'm just working a zillion hours and babysitting during the day and promising myself that I will finish round two of editing the book by the end of this week!  Oh, and for some reason I don't have internet connectin in my room?  Bizarre.  But I've got approximately 24 pages left. Ahh, good times. Sprawled out on my bed, under the covers, laptop resting in my lap.  Once that is done (is it ever, really?) I'll be back and I want to talk to you about my doubts, and why sometimes  I wish I was an only child.

Saturday, 28 May 2011

This page is looking a little dusty.

Ok, the problem with never posting an entry is that too many things pile up and then I don't know how to incorporate them into a fluid entry and thus... I avoid writing one.  And then more things pile up.  Life goes on, memories are made, mason jars are filled with raspberry sauce, and it just becomes too much to talk about.  I even missed posting two Fridays in a row.  You've lost faith in me and I understand that.  But I will try to regain it by being irrefutably dedicated to this little box that I type in, but more importantly to you, my loyal viewers.  Heh heh. 

Ok so here's a list of things that I want to talk about.

  1. Oprah's gone forever and suddenly I'm obsessed (nah, not really) with her and all of the shows that I haven't seen in her 25 year career (somewhere in the ballpark of 93%).  It's one of those things that you only really want once you know that you can't have it anymore.  Well true, wise reader, I can watch the re-runs, but it's almost like the magic is gone now.  I've never been a huge O fan.  I disagree with her on a cornucopia (you like that?) of things which makes it hard for me to value her influence on the masses, but while I was watching the finale I was really quite impressed with the words that she had to share.  Her message is almost distinctly the same as my message.  I cried twice during the show, not really because she was going off the air, but because I feel like God is preparing me for a great journey.  Feeling blessed, mostly.
  2. Dinner party wars currently taking place amongst my friends and I.  Have you ever seen that show "Come Dine With Me?"  It's hilarious, particularly the British version.  But anyways, there are four of us girls and we each take turns hosting one another for a themed dinner.  We all get scored and eventually find out who is the ultimate hostess.  I've only attended one so far but wow, oh wow I'm a little nervous.  As the attendees were driving down the hill to the first host's house we were greeted by her younger brother, her boyfriend, and her mother totally dressed up and holding gigantic flowers, waiting to escort us inside.  Her presentation was phenomenal and most importantly, we laughed for hours.  And that was just the first one!  Eeeep.  Next up is a luau.  I'm not exactly sure what I'm doing for mine, but I think I have to go pretty much all out.  Thinking cap is coming on!
  3. Once again I'm editing the book.  There's so many varied emotions surrounding those 90-some thousand words.  It's a lot of fear and uncertainty, but it's also quite a bit of joy.  It's hard to do because it's kind of a prophetic book.  I mean, I don't know when the world's going to end, or how many kids you're going to have, but I talk about the future of my life in certain aspects as if I'm sure of them.  Because God said so.  And I love that!  I love that I have to be faithful.  I know that there's something special in the works but it's still a little terrifying at times.
  4. Congratulations Vancouver Canucks on making it to the Stanley Cup Finals.  It only makes me want to be in Vancouver more, so I'm actually kind of resentful, but I've been cheering for you and watch all of your games from the kitchen at work (much to my boss' displeasure, I'm sure).  But anyway, I'm excited about the finals and I try to sport my Canucks snap-back as much as possible without being obnoxious, which is probably a lost hope for me anyways. 
  5. I was in the backyard of my friend's house the other day, babysitting her children and I had a horrifying thought.  Her son was playing in the garden-in the dirt-with his Tonka trucks and trying to cajole me into joining him and I was implicitly refusing.  I just simply was not interested.  In fact, I'm hardly ever interested in playing with kids outside.  I'm pretty impatient and I just can't seem to suspend my disbelief of the imaginary long enough to really get into it.  And then I thought... "What if I don't even like kids?  What if.... I only like... the idea of kids?!"  What-the-eff-are-you-serious?!  That thought completely rattled me.  I'm trying convince myself that the desire to play in the dirt will probably change when it's my own child, and maybe it actually won't even change, but that doesn't mean that I don't want kids, that I wouldn't love them completely.  I think what I don't like is babysitting.  And maybe, at this point in my life-20 years old-I really don't even have to like the idea of kids, necessarily.  I'm pretty young, I know I want kids at some point.  That's probably enough to actually make it happen (God willing) in the future.
  6. 21 years ago, as of yesterday, one of my dearest friends was born into this world and I couldn't be happier.  We celebrated her birthday last night and it was ball upon ball of fun.  It was just a good summer night, although rainy and cool, it was still packing the heat.  A couple of good reunions with friends, BBQ cheeseburgers, and a hundred or so photos later and I'll call that a great time.  I don't drink but man oh man I love to party.  Party hard.
Ok, so that's just a little bit of a surface skim.  I will do my best to uphold this blog to the highest degree of enjoyment and learning.  See you kids in a few!

Thursday, 19 May 2011

Somewhere in between Beyonce and Tina Fey is fine by me.

I have three grey hairs on my head.  I sported my first one when I turned 17.  I've never done a cartwheel in my life.  And some days I feel like I'm living in neutral-not falling apart, but not exactly progressing either.  That's the worst place, I think.  If you're going downhill at least it's obvious that something needs to change.  When you're in neutral, it's harder to put your finger on exactly what is making you feel so inadequate.  Or so useless.  Or so lazy.  Whatever it happens to be. 

But then I remember that I actually have a mandate.  There are things that I am supposed to do.  Why is my book still sitting on my computer and not on your nightstand?!  Mmm, not sure.  There is this woman that I want to be, this courageous, big-hearted woman, who is wildly independent but nurturing in spirit and I wonder how I become that woman.  But that woman is me.  I'm already her, just needing to exercise those wildly independent muscles.  You become something when you do it, over and over again.  With practice, it becomes part of your character. So you are capable of whatever it is that you want to.  In fact, that's exactly what you are supposed to do.  You just have to get there.  Start doing it.  Because, no, you're not Beyonce-but whatever it is that you like about her is what you already possess inside of you.  You just have to access it. 

And live life with a sense of urgency, because minutes turn into days which turn into years pretty quickly.  And what have you done with those minutes?  It's not okay (and I'm speaking to myself) to waste the days away when you don't want to.  When you are not content to watch the television all afternoon or take a nap that you didn't need, you are depriving your character.  Rest is necessary.  So is relaxing.  But Tina Fey didn't become one of SNL's best writers by sleeping away her days.  You have to live, even when it's not the easy thing to do.  Because that's when character is built.  That's when you realize that you are exactly who you want to be.

And I'm not size six.  Or married.  Or the world's best mother.  Well-known or wise.  But I'll get there if that's what I want and if I work for it. 

Saturday, 14 May 2011

Nevermind.  The best thing about this week was walking to the store at 10pm with my newly-returned-home-from-univeristy friends and picking up a bucket of peanut butter jelly ice cream for myself and then eating it.  Simple nights like that are most wonderful indeed.

Friday, 13 May 2011

Baseball and babies.

I hate signing in to write something and then realizing that it's Friday.  Because then I have to write about my favourite thing and that's not what I signed on to write about.  But I will tell you anyways that my favourite thing was going to the library with a friend, randomly, picking out a book (and foreign film), putting it on her account (because I'm a country kid and not entitled to such things as books), and engrossing myself in the love story of two teenagers, one living, one not.  I read it before bed every night, and sometimes when I wake up in the morning.. err, afternoon.  And there's rows and rows and rows of books that could probably captivate me in the same way.  I just gotta find them.  So I'm going to try to read more, because I actually enjoy it.  More than television (with a few exceptions involving Food Network and Slice). 

So that's that but what I wanted to say that sometimes life throws you a curve ball, and you have no desire to catch that ball, you'd just rather avoid it entirely.  But sometimes your former voice teacher (and friend.. present not former) calls you up while you're in the shower to ask you to come and watch her kids.  And sometimes when you get there she tells you the whole story and it's slightly traumatic and then she asks you if you'd like to come for the next four weeks.  And you want to say no because the daytime is your free time.  You are working almost every night for 8, 9, or more hours.  You wake up late and would like to spend your few free hours working on projects to encourage people, or spending time with friends, motivating them, challenging them.  And then you think about your purpose, what you're trying to do with your life.  Are you trying to make lots of money?  Are you trying to get everyone to like you?  Are you trying to be more like Christ, caring for the needs of anyone and everyone?  Uggh, well that last one is kind of what I was aiming for.  Well then.  You see a need, you fill it. 

I'm not really interested in sacrificing my time to drive twenty minutes out of town to take care of two children whom I don't really know that well-not every day, not on my free time.  But if my goal is really to be Christ, hands, feet, heart and soul on this planet.. well, I bet he would have refreshed his memory on how to change a diaper and been there.  No questions. 

In a completely side side side note, I wish I was better aquainted with the NBA and MLB playoffs that are going on.  I need to become a more rounded sports fan.  It's on the list.  Perhaps I should share the list.

Friday, 6 May 2011

A financial statement.

Has it really been a week? 
Since I last posted?

Oops.  I will say though that I'm on my way to working a 60 hour week in that dingy little kitchen so maybe that will be a good enough excuse?  Probably not, I realize.  Blog comes first.  I realize. 

I woke up at 12:30 this afternoon.  That's borderline disgusting.  I've been in a cycle of sleeping or wishing I was sleeping this week.  Late nights scrubbing dishes until 4 am and then waking up at 6 to go for a morning run.  Whaaat am I doing with my life?  I need to find some structure, asap.  And I have so many projects that need to happen and will inevitably be late because I've been so lazy this week.  I just spent the last hour or so (my last hour or so of freedom before the chef coat goes on) looking at New Era caps and graphic tanks on places like http://www.karmaloop.com/ .  Motivation, where art thou?!  I'll find her (motivation is most obviously a woman, come on people..). 

But today, because today is Friday I'll tell ya something that should be everyone's favourite: God doesn't lie.  Bam.  Big surprise.  My mom told me that if I started not being so clenched-fist with my measly amount of money that I would probably find myself blessed.  So, okay, I started looking at my finances as opportunity.  How can you use that money, dear Melissa?  And suddenly, the money that I have is kind of like a "project bank".  I can use that money to bless others!  I can give to others!  That's what that money is for, actually!  And guess what?  No, I'm not a billionare.  I did not inherit the principality of Monte Carlo or get interviewed by Forbes magazine, but money seems to be coming in at a more fast and furious rate than perviously.  Little things-a cheque from my mother for Easter (which has never before happened), money being stuck in my shoe from a co-worker because I took his closing shift, and other such surprises.  It just feels freeing.  And yes, I'm not saying that I've decided that someone else will cover my debt because I'm too busy spending money on crafting ideas for the masses.  No, there's that whole financial steward business to take care of, but really, anything that comes my way isn't mine in the first place.  It's your (metaphorically).  Well, God's.  But used to bless you in hopes that it brings him glory.  And that's boss.  Killer project. I'm in love.

Saturday, 30 April 2011

When you find that X, keep it.

I realize that I didn't write anything yesterday and today is in fact Saturday, the day after Friday.  You must know that I'm sending out my sincerest apologies because I know you guys watch this blog like hawks and the first thing you do when you wake up in the morning is check to see if I've written any more timeless wisdom on here.  I know. 

That being said, I'm afraid to go into work today because last night I totally forgot to take all of the food out of the in-kitchen freezer after I unplugged it.  Ooops.  I only remembered this morning when I opened my own fridge, looking for yogurt.  I hate it when I make mistakes.  I like to be perfect or as close as I can get to it, especially at jobs.  I want to feel as though I'm irreplaceable.  And yes, we're still talking about the kitchen job.  It's not my passion, but I like to do things well.  I think papa George probably instilled that in me as a wee little one.  Anything doing is worth doing well.  And so unwiped microwave handles and pieces of cheese on the floor sometimes plague me at night.  Hopefully I don't get yelled at tonight, but it's really out of my control.  The chicken breast has been thawed.  The fat lady has hit her last note. 

But onto the good... What was my favourite thing about this week?  Sitting cross-legged on the floor in my sunroom patio with the sun shining through the windows and making a storybook for two friends that are leaving for Australia.  I had no idea what kind of parting gift I should give them until suddenly I was struck with the idea for making a story of their trip.  Yusssss.  Parts of it looked a little like a grade two white glue art project, but I'm okay with that.  It was a touching story of two friends and their quest for happiness, taking them across the globe, only to realize that "everything they needed they already had".  So with my foam letters and travel magazines spewed across the floor, I was content.  And to be content is one of the hardest things to find and embrace, I think (complacency is different than contentment and also bad-don't confuse the two).

Here's the cover of the story book. 

Monday, 25 April 2011

Really?

I'm not sure where this is coming from but for the last few days I've really been thinking about what really makes up a woman.  We're liars, cheaters, and manipulators.  We lie about how we feel about ourselves, cheat on our diets, and manipulate others to get what we want.  We're good at it. 

But why do advertising associate themselves with "real women" specifically?  Oh hey.. is that me or am I not included in that demographic?  Am I a real woman because my jean size is in the double digits?  What qualifies myself as a real woman?  If I have a naturally flat chest am I some rare breed of non-woman female.  Because after all, "real women have curves".  That statement, movie title, whatever it actually is has always bothered me.  Helloooooooooo, all women are real women!  Where are all of these fake women out there that we need to distinguish ourselves from?  Yes, we all look different (thank goodness).  And surely some of us care more about our appearance than others (and for varying reasons).  And you guessed it, we all have our fair share of insecurities and respond to them in unique ways.  But just because a woman has augmented breasts or a cosmetically enhanced nose or goes tanning every day... does that make her fake?  Nope.  She's still a living, breathing woman.  And good for her if that's what she wants.  If she's covering up an insecurity, well then obviously I would prefer that she get to the root of the issue.  And this is coming from the girl who would really like to be a size 6 before her birthday. 

Is it something that I need?  Nope. It's just about improvement in all areas of life.  But do not tell me or the girl sitting next to me that we're not women because we don't want to have kids or wear push-up bras or dance all night.  And maybe we do one day.  And maybe we do right now. 

Whatever you do and whoever you are-that is completely womenly.  This was a little bit of a rant and so I admit it's a little unpieced together.  I have a feeling this topic is going to come up again.  You are real, regardless of how you feel or look.  And so is the girl standing in front of you in line at _____________.

Friday, 22 April 2011

If it freaks you out, you should probably do it.

Where would all of the fun in life be if we didn't do things that freaked us out?  That's my favourite thing for today, this week, and hopefully the rest of my life. 

You know when you're in that situation when you could go the extra mile, or could do someone a favour, or say some kind words but then you think, "Oh no, that would be weird."

Stop doing that.

It's only weird because everyone is afraid to do it!  It's only weird to love people relentlessly because it's uncommon.  But it's what we're called to do as Christians.  Love. like. crazy.  After all, we are supposed to mirror the person of Christ, someone who loved all of us sinners enough to die for us?!  ...Eeeeep.  That's some pretty hardcore love.  And that's our job.  Love God.  Love your neighbour (aka everyone). 

And so, I thought to myself, "What better time than Easter to sneak the gospel message into my coworkers' minds than at Easter?"  The plot isn't as devious as it sounds.  But I made all of the boys who were working evening shifts during this weekend a card and a ziplock bag of their favourite chocolate or candy.  First of all, I thoroughly enjoyed spending time on those cards.  They aren't perfect but their homemade-time and a little creative effort went into those.  They're one-of-a-kind, just like those boys.  And yep, I feel like it's super weird of me to give those guys each a card that says John 3:16-17 and a personal note from myself on the inside.  I think it's absolutely strange that I find myself caring about people that I'm not even friends with.  No doubt about it, it's odd.  But it's right.  And why else would I be on this planet than for moments exactly like that?  And no, they probably won't all get converted and be in attendance at church on Sunday but if I am not a light for them, who will be?!  If we aren't lights for our neighbours, our teachers, our peers, and employees.. then who? 

I realize that this is not everyone's "thing".  My DNA has "interested in people" written all over it.  I invest myself in people in record time.  It's always been a gift and a curse-too big of a heart on my sleeve.  But I'm learning about God's idea of what this gift looks like and it's becoming something so liberating for me.  Just love.  Keep loving until you die.  Do nothing else.  Of course, we do other things, but we should never stop loving.  So anyway, that's what I continually find myself to be convicted about.  And on that note, it's cool how different people have different convictions based on what their purpose is.  Fascinating!

You want to see some of the cards?  Well, okay... if you insist.


And that's all that it will let me upload, so that's all you're going to see for now! 

Oh, and I decided that I need to shock my body so I'm giving up refined sugar and wheat for a week.  I could feel my body doing some flipping out earlier.  Super mad at me.  I just need to give it a little detox and we'll be back in fighting shape.  Wish me luck!



Thursday, 21 April 2011

I know what the calendar says, but I'm claiming today as the first official day of summer.

Happy Summer!

It's official.  The sun is being pulled by our mighty gravitational force pulled by summer good feelings and denim shorts. That's how it works, right?  Well anyways, it's happening.  It's here.

The first of the "core" friends arrived home from university the other day and we've had our "surprise!" spring snowfall (yesterday) so now that that's out of the way, we're good to go. 

And how did I celebrate?  By waking up at 6 am to go for a run along the riverfront with my friend.  BAM.  Hitting this season up full force.  Well, not quite.  The run definitely left something to be desired (ahem... cardio.).  I was pretty sure I was going to pass out at one point and we finished with the phrase "Well, we definitely know that we need to improve."  Ouch.  But hey, no one ever improves by not getting up at 6 am to run.  So I'm there.  I'm on that improvement road.  Hey-oh!  I hope to see you there too.

But good thing  I was motivated when I got up this morning because this is what greeted me in the kitchen.
Are you kidding me?  Is Jenny Craig so hard up for cash these days that she has to plant boxes of donuts in peoples' kitchens?!  You just can't trust anybody anymore.  And my mom bought a two litre of Root Beer today.  Noooooooo.... I was so focused on trying to quit drinking pop at work.  I don't want that poison in my house!  I'll literally drink all of it.  She also bought Miss Vickies' salt and vinegar kettle cooked chips, but I'm okay with that.

But do you know what's so great about running in the summer?  Even if you are getting up at 6, the sun is already up.  It's so pretty to see the reflection along the water.  I should have taken a picture, but imagine me running with a camera. Hah. 

The other highlight of the day was definitely receiving my ballcaps (do people  call them ballcaps? I'm not sure) in the mail!  Woo!  And equally exciting is the fact that my mother received her new tortilla press as well.  Tortillas are a staple in our diet.  The lack of a tortilla press was starting to get the best of me.  And here's a nice little snapshot of me in one of the caps.  I support Vancouver!  Zing!  Also note the still incomplete tree on my wall.

Well, maybe you're not supposed to see it because I can't upload it.  My apologies because it's a fantastic photo.

Sunday, 17 April 2011

My current emotional state is staring me in the face.

I was going to post an entry about how I baked cupcakes today.  I took cute pictures for the sole purpose of posting them on here.  But that's not important. What is important is letting you know that it's Saturday night and I'm sitting on my bed with a big bowl of kettle cooked chips and a can of Coke (which I actually don't even like the taste of..) and I'm feeling sorry for myself. 

That's important.

And why, might you ask?  Because I'm feeling sorry for myself and that's stupid.  I'm neglecting my olive tree and drinking Coca-Cola for goodness sake.  In my book, that spells desperate.  I think maybe I'm feeling sorry for myself because of all the sugar I ate today? (Three different batters and icings to "test out" all before anything was even baked...)  That's one option.  Or maybe because it's Saturday night and I'm sitting on my bed? That's possible, but I don't go to school and I don't work a 9-5 so days of the week don't really have much significance.  So I guess that means that the real reason is because I'm just lonely.  Straight up.  I'm just a lonely little lamb.  And I just want to eat until I'm not lonely anymore.

That quote right there sounds a little too much like Lifetime television network.  I'm sorry.  That's not okay.

But it's basically true.  Because I'm missing this certain person terribly and I'm getting sick of playing the waiting game and I realize that in this specific game I don't really have a say in what goes on.  I don't even really know the rules, actually.  I just wait.  And that's hard.  It makes me doubt myself.  And so I bake cupcakes and paint trees and buy dress patterns not necessarily because I'm trying to distract myself from waiting (but hey, it does help).  No, those are genuine investments of my time.  They make me happy and give me a creative outlet which is one of my life's essentials. 

And I don't think about missing this person most of the time.  I really don't.  But some days, man oh man, some days are like a train headed off a bridge at an impossible speed-an absolute wreck.  There's nothing in front of me.  And yet I know that my future is like sunlight.  I will have to wear shades for the rest of my life because God has got some seriously bright plans for me.  I know that but right now in this moment it's hard to feel that.  And that's okay.  It's not the end of the world.  But it still hurts, you know?  And I feel like I'm-I tried to think of a really good descriptive word but all that I could come up with was-alone. 

It's that bad feeling a person gets when her cell phone doesn't vibrate all day and she starts to think that there's something wrong with her.  And she knows better than to get spooked by a little quietness because it's actually probaby a blessing, but still she's sitting on her bed and the chips are now gone and so is that stupid freaking can of Coke and she's got tears in her eyes.  Oh sure she's got ideas and dreams and blueprints to connect them all up in that sphere of hers but she still feels like she's missing something.  Like all of this is leading up to something else.  And that's a bad way to look at things (in this case) because she should be happy for right now, this very moment in time.  She'll never get these thoughts back. Granted, she doesn't really want them back but the choice isn't hers anyways. 

I just want this so-and-so to be sitting next to me right now.  Right. now. Riiiiiiiight nowwwww. And maybe if I say it enough times my door will open up and bing-o.  But I just looked at my bedrooom door and the knob isn't turning.  He's not coming. And I have to tell myself to remember to put "yet" on the end of that sentence.

He's not coming yet.   

Otherwise I'll convince myself that he's never really coming because I'm never really worth it.  And that's where one bowl of chips will turn into two and that Coke will turn into Fresca and I'll be moody and go to sleep with only half a tree on my wall. 

And half a tree isn't really worth much.  But I guess it's these incomplete moments that give us the strength to keep growing.  Or did I just say that because it would be a delightfully cheesy way to end this rant?