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Monday, March 29, 2010

how far, how wide, how deep

"Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!"
-Matthew 21:9

My heart fills simultaneously with triumphant joy and immense sorrow as I reflect over this verse. We are victorious. Our maker is risen.

But, I can't help but think about the haunting lines in How Deep the Father's Love for Us:

Behold the man upon a cross
My sin upon His shoulders
Ashamed I hear my mocking voice
Call out among the scoffers

The same voices that praised Jesus as he came through the Jerusalem gates were the same voices that mocked him, degraded him, berated him, spat upon him. I woke up to this verse today, realizing that I am no different from them. I lay my palm branches at the feet of Christ, then curse him with my actions and my very own lips.

It was my sin that held him there
Until it was accomplished

My sin held him there. I am ashamed, yet so grateful. Because His dying breath has brought me life. I know that it is finished.
SHARE:

how far, how wide, how deep

"Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!"
-Matthew 21:9

My heart fills simultaneously with triumphant joy and immense sorrow as I reflect over this verse. We are victorious. Our maker is risen.

But, I can't help but think about the haunting lines in How Deep the Father's Love for Us:

Behold the man upon a cross
My sin upon His shoulders
Ashamed I hear my mocking voice
Call out among the scoffers

The same voices that praised Jesus as he came through the Jerusalem gates were the same voices that mocked him, degraded him, berated him, spat upon him. I woke up to this verse today, realizing that I am no different from them. I lay my palm branches at the feet of Christ, then curse him with my actions and my very own lips.

It was my sin that held him there
Until it was accomplished

My sin held him there. I am ashamed, yet so grateful. Because His dying breath has brought me life. I know that it is finished.
SHARE:

Saturday, March 27, 2010

time well wasted



Maybe this is why I'm so stressed out all of the time. So many hats, so little time.
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time well wasted



Maybe this is why I'm so stressed out all of the time. So many hats, so little time.
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for such a time as this

"And if I perish, I perish."
-Esther 4:16

It finally happened. Flip flop weather. I love flip flops because they're like old friends. Wearing them is like riding a bicycle: you always feel comfortable in them, no matter how long it has been since you've worn them. No matter what kind of day I'm having, it always puts a smile on my face to hear the little foamy click, clack, click, clack following behind me wherever I go.

At James Madison University, the male population (a sad forty percent of the student body --- bad for dating, good for girls night outs) look out for "preview day." The day that all the ladies escape from their sweatshirt cocoons and wear bikinis on the quad. Putting the spring in spring semester.

Now, I'm not going to say how I feel about bikinis. I'm not going to say how I feel about seeing a girl's thong when the wind blows up her already too-short skirt. I'm not going to say. I'm really hoping that I won't say accidentally. Also that you can pick up from my tone how I feel about bikinis and butt cheek exposure.

But I will say that the warm weather is putting a serious damper on my attempts to deny that I am 41 days away from college graduation. It's really hard to ignore the fact that the end of the school year is very (too) quickly approaching.

So, when the flip flops and bikinis came out last week, panic mode set in.

Side note: Just got a text from my mom that says "Go get 'em tiger!" How did she do that?! Not text, she can text all right. I mean, she uses her pointer finger to push all of the buttons, it's so cute. But, how did she know?!

Anyway, back to panic mode. I get the jitters when I think about graduation and the summer, and the possible grad school opportunity. And I get the jitters when I think about all I have to do within the next 41 days, and how quickly they go by.

I also get the jitters when I drink too much coffee. I'm on my second cup of the day. Maybe I should eat some fruit.

I've been thinking a lot about Esther lately. Lately meaning the past year and a half. After her Uncle Mordecai tells her that she is the one that must approach the King, without being summoned , to deliver the Jews from persecution. This, as we learn from the Biblical text, means certain death. Esther courageously accepts the words from Mordecai that she has come to her royal position "for such a time as this" (Esther 4:14).

The King shows her favor. In fact, he tells her everything that any woman has ever wanted to hear from a man. "Queen Esther," he says, "What is your petition? It will be given you. What is your request? Even up to half the kingdom, it will be granted" (Esther 7:2).

I've fallen in love with this story. It may seem overly romantic, but I can't help it. He loves her so much. She loves her people and trusts God so much. Every morning when the light slips through the cracks of my of my window in my cluttered college apartment, I pray that my life looks the same way.

I pray that I have the courage to approach the post-graduation world with as much vigor as Esther approached the throne of her lover. God knows me, and loves me. Loves me like Xerxes loved Esther. He shows me mercy and wants the best for His daughter.

When I walk across that platform on May 8th, 2010 in my purple gown and gold shoes I will have my head held high and my shoulders back. Courageously accepting my diploma, and my testimony. Because I am leaving this university and entering the "real world" (if there really such a thing) for such a time as this.

Now, if I could just wake up and get there with minimal stress, that would be great.

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for such a time as this

"And if I perish, I perish."
-Esther 4:16

It finally happened. Flip flop weather. I love flip flops because they're like old friends. Wearing them is like riding a bicycle: you always feel comfortable in them, no matter how long it has been since you've worn them. No matter what kind of day I'm having, it always puts a smile on my face to hear the little foamy click, clack, click, clack following behind me wherever I go.

At James Madison University, the male population (a sad forty percent of the student body --- bad for dating, good for girls night outs) look out for "preview day." The day that all the ladies escape from their sweatshirt cocoons and wear bikinis on the quad. Putting the spring in spring semester.

Now, I'm not going to say how I feel about bikinis. I'm not going to say how I feel about seeing a girl's thong when the wind blows up her already too-short skirt. I'm not going to say. I'm really hoping that I won't say accidentally. Also that you can pick up from my tone how I feel about bikinis and butt cheek exposure.

But I will say that the warm weather is putting a serious damper on my attempts to deny that I am 41 days away from college graduation. It's really hard to ignore the fact that the end of the school year is very (too) quickly approaching.

So, when the flip flops and bikinis came out last week, panic mode set in.

Side note: Just got a text from my mom that says "Go get 'em tiger!" How did she do that?! Not text, she can text all right. I mean, she uses her pointer finger to push all of the buttons, it's so cute. But, how did she know?!

Anyway, back to panic mode. I get the jitters when I think about graduation and the summer, and the possible grad school opportunity. And I get the jitters when I think about all I have to do within the next 41 days, and how quickly they go by.

I also get the jitters when I drink too much coffee. I'm on my second cup of the day. Maybe I should eat some fruit.

I've been thinking a lot about Esther lately. Lately meaning the past year and a half. After her Uncle Mordecai tells her that she is the one that must approach the King, without being summoned , to deliver the Jews from persecution. This, as we learn from the Biblical text, means certain death. Esther courageously accepts the words from Mordecai that she has come to her royal position "for such a time as this" (Esther 4:14).

The King shows her favor. In fact, he tells her everything that any woman has ever wanted to hear from a man. "Queen Esther," he says, "What is your petition? It will be given you. What is your request? Even up to half the kingdom, it will be granted" (Esther 7:2).

I've fallen in love with this story. It may seem overly romantic, but I can't help it. He loves her so much. She loves her people and trusts God so much. Every morning when the light slips through the cracks of my of my window in my cluttered college apartment, I pray that my life looks the same way.

I pray that I have the courage to approach the post-graduation world with as much vigor as Esther approached the throne of her lover. God knows me, and loves me. Loves me like Xerxes loved Esther. He shows me mercy and wants the best for His daughter.

When I walk across that platform on May 8th, 2010 in my purple gown and gold shoes I will have my head held high and my shoulders back. Courageously accepting my diploma, and my testimony. Because I am leaving this university and entering the "real world" (if there really such a thing) for such a time as this.

Now, if I could just wake up and get there with minimal stress, that would be great.

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Thursday, March 25, 2010

keep the candle burnin'

"Happy Blogging!"
-Liz Curtis Higgs, author of Here Burns My Candle

Thanks Liz Curtis Higgs, I am happy blogging. More importantly, I am happy blogging for WaterBrook Press about your new book, Here Burns My Candle.

Before we begin, I just have to get one thing out in the open: I did not for one second believe I would like this book.

Phew. That feels good to get off my chest. Liz Curtis Higgs, hey girlfriend, if you're reading this, I'm sorry. But, your book is about love and redemption. So, hopefully this review will redeem my confession. And if you're not reading this, well then, I guess we're even. I completely forgive you (consider me the Elisabeth to your Mrs. John Kerr if you will).

I haven't come into much contact with Liz Curtis Higgs' fictional work. I read her non-fictional Bad Girls of the Bible study a while ago. I remember being intrigued with how she interpreted the stories of these wicked women. Such detail and humor mixed with some very serious (and obviously accurate) historical context.

That, in a nutshell, is what Here Burns My Candle is comprised of. A challenging, thought-provoking storyline centered around the Jacobite Rebellion in the eighteenth-century Scotland. Through reading this captivating novel, the sharp detail of Higg's writing is made apparent. From the simple appearance of candles (they flicker, or spark, or are snuffed during key turning points during the story), to the quotes relating to the story's plot at the beginning of each chapter.

This attention to detail carries over into every colorful character's inner dialogue. Their thoughts are purposeful, and very well could have been thoughts that were provoked by the people of this particular time period.

"The sterling spoons were numbered so when the maidservant whisked away the china cups to be refilled, the were returned to the proper guest" (60). It is attention to details such as this that makes the story so believable and enjoyable.

Higgs' writing style also allows the reader to step inside the minds of every important character. We, as the readers, are granted access to their thoughts - rather than having one omniscient narrator droning on and on about the Highanders and their struggle to return to the auld ways. The story is way more enjoyable, and it is easy to get swept away into the literary world. This also heightens the tension within the story, because we are able to understand exactly what character means when he or she speaks something.

One of my favorite quotes from the book falls when the Lowlander Lord Kerr meets his Highlander wife's brother. A soldier loyal to the Lowlanders. Elisabeth, the heroine of the story, and the peacemaker between the two gentlemen is called to talk to another person. As she leaves the two very opinionated men to themselves, her husband says, "Your brother and I can manage without you" - he glanced at Simon - "provided we speak of the weather." (89).

Higgs also implements a lot of dialect from the time period. It forced the reader to step inside real Edinburgh. Although, after seeing the word "nae" about 300 times, it does start to get a little overkill, but this opinion is easily overturned when considering the accurate nature of the dialogue.

Overall, it was a very enjoyable read. If you are interested in purchasing this book, it is available online at http://www.waterbrookmultnomah.com/.
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keep the candle burnin'

"Happy Blogging!"
-Liz Curtis Higgs, author of Here Burns My Candle

Thanks Liz Curtis Higgs, I am happy blogging. More importantly, I am happy blogging for WaterBrook Press about your new book, Here Burns My Candle.

Before we begin, I just have to get one thing out in the open: I did not for one second believe I would like this book.

Phew. That feels good to get off my chest. Liz Curtis Higgs, hey girlfriend, if you're reading this, I'm sorry. But, your book is about love and redemption. So, hopefully this review will redeem my confession. And if you're not reading this, well then, I guess we're even. I completely forgive you (consider me the Elisabeth to your Mrs. John Kerr if you will).

I haven't come into much contact with Liz Curtis Higgs' fictional work. I read her non-fictional Bad Girls of the Bible study a while ago. I remember being intrigued with how she interpreted the stories of these wicked women. Such detail and humor mixed with some very serious (and obviously accurate) historical context.

That, in a nutshell, is what Here Burns My Candle is comprised of. A challenging, thought-provoking storyline centered around the Jacobite Rebellion in the eighteenth-century Scotland. Through reading this captivating novel, the sharp detail of Higg's writing is made apparent. From the simple appearance of candles (they flicker, or spark, or are snuffed during key turning points during the story), to the quotes relating to the story's plot at the beginning of each chapter.

This attention to detail carries over into every colorful character's inner dialogue. Their thoughts are purposeful, and very well could have been thoughts that were provoked by the people of this particular time period.

"The sterling spoons were numbered so when the maidservant whisked away the china cups to be refilled, the were returned to the proper guest" (60). It is attention to details such as this that makes the story so believable and enjoyable.

Higgs' writing style also allows the reader to step inside the minds of every important character. We, as the readers, are granted access to their thoughts - rather than having one omniscient narrator droning on and on about the Highanders and their struggle to return to the auld ways. The story is way more enjoyable, and it is easy to get swept away into the literary world. This also heightens the tension within the story, because we are able to understand exactly what character means when he or she speaks something.

One of my favorite quotes from the book falls when the Lowlander Lord Kerr meets his Highlander wife's brother. A soldier loyal to the Lowlanders. Elisabeth, the heroine of the story, and the peacemaker between the two gentlemen is called to talk to another person. As she leaves the two very opinionated men to themselves, her husband says, "Your brother and I can manage without you" - he glanced at Simon - "provided we speak of the weather." (89).

Higgs also implements a lot of dialect from the time period. It forced the reader to step inside real Edinburgh. Although, after seeing the word "nae" about 300 times, it does start to get a little overkill, but this opinion is easily overturned when considering the accurate nature of the dialogue.

Overall, it was a very enjoyable read. If you are interested in purchasing this book, it is available online at http://www.waterbrookmultnomah.com/.
SHARE:

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

zac attack

Unashamedly listening to this in the library. Am I getting strange looks from my fellow 20-somethings studying their lives away? Bet on it.



This is SO my life right now.
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zac attack

Unashamedly listening to this in the library. Am I getting strange looks from my fellow 20-somethings studying their lives away? Bet on it.



This is SO my life right now.
SHARE:

hey, thanks

I have thoughts and you listen to them. You take notice of them. The fact that I can click "publish post" legitimizes my thoughts. I guess I've been spoiled by you. I shouldn't let it get me down when people (well, not just people per se, but my friends) don't treat my words/voice with the same air of acknowledgment.

Believe me, I wish my heart were not bursting through my chest as it is. I wish my hands were not shaking. I wish that my eyes would remember what it is like not to be tearful.

But, it's in my soul to care.

So thank you. Thank you for allowing me to know that somehow my voice is heard over the opposition and voices that are more popular or interesting (or what have you) than mine. Thank you for allowing me this feeling of legitimacy.

See you soon, dear blog. Hang in there with me, please.
SHARE:

hey, thanks

I have thoughts and you listen to them. You take notice of them. The fact that I can click "publish post" legitimizes my thoughts. I guess I've been spoiled by you. I shouldn't let it get me down when people (well, not just people per se, but my friends) don't treat my words/voice with the same air of acknowledgment.

Believe me, I wish my heart were not bursting through my chest as it is. I wish my hands were not shaking. I wish that my eyes would remember what it is like not to be tearful.

But, it's in my soul to care.

So thank you. Thank you for allowing me to know that somehow my voice is heard over the opposition and voices that are more popular or interesting (or what have you) than mine. Thank you for allowing me this feeling of legitimacy.

See you soon, dear blog. Hang in there with me, please.
SHARE:

Saturday, March 20, 2010

flight

"And I'll start to soar. Watch me rain 'til I pour out. I'll catch a ship and it'll sail me astray. Get caught in the wind, I'll just have to obey time. Time flying away." -Flight, Sutton Foster

One of my dearest friends sang this song at her senior recital last night. If there was a dry eye in the audience, I wasn't aware of it.

Because everyone looks like they're crying behind your own tearful face.

I immediately purchased this song on iTunes when I got home. I put it on repeat. 107 plays within the last 24 hours. Yes, my obsessions (or, passions as I prefer to call them --- makes them seem healthier...) are really intense, sometimes. Just ask my friends about my passion for coffee.

The lyrics are so beautiful, and my soul actually longs to do all of the things mentioned in the song. I want to rain 'til I pour out.

I want to pour out for Christ. Lately, I haven't been very passionate in my pursuit of Him. I've been bogged down with my pursuit of other things. Happens to everyone, so I'm told.

How do we fight this? How do we keep this passion at the forefront? How do we make our lives look like this?

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qQExnCtLTac&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x402061&color2=0x9461ca]

Side note to Carolyn, my soul-sister and my favorite musical-lovin' Texan: You in to sing this for talent night? Let me know. You can go ahead and learn Megan's part. Okay? Okay! Love ya lots!
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flight

"And I'll start to soar. Watch me rain 'til I pour out. I'll catch a ship and it'll sail me astray. Get caught in the wind, I'll just have to obey time. Time flying away." -Flight, Sutton Foster

One of my dearest friends sang this song at her senior recital last night. If there was a dry eye in the audience, I wasn't aware of it.

Because everyone looks like they're crying behind your own tearful face.

I immediately purchased this song on iTunes when I got home. I put it on repeat. 107 plays within the last 24 hours. Yes, my obsessions (or, passions as I prefer to call them --- makes them seem healthier...) are really intense, sometimes. Just ask my friends about my passion for coffee.

The lyrics are so beautiful, and my soul actually longs to do all of the things mentioned in the song. I want to rain 'til I pour out.

I want to pour out for Christ. Lately, I haven't been very passionate in my pursuit of Him. I've been bogged down with my pursuit of other things. Happens to everyone, so I'm told.

How do we fight this? How do we keep this passion at the forefront? How do we make our lives look like this?



Side note to Carolyn, my soul-sister and my favorite musical-lovin' Texan: You in to sing this for talent night? Let me know. You can go ahead and learn Megan's part. Okay? Okay! Love ya lots!
SHARE:

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

patty's pressure

Several dressing pressures arose this morning at the early hour of 6:45. First thought: it's St. Patrick's day (have a happy one, by the way!). So, something green. Done. Second thought: check weather dot com for the predicted forecast of the day.

6 a.m. 33 degrees
9 a.m. 38 degrees
12 p.m. 57 degrees
3 p.m. 63 degrees

Hmm. So, something green. Something that will be warm for my walk to my class at 8 a.m. and nice and cool for my return from class at 2 p.m.

This made my brain hurt. Now, you have to understand that I am not really the type of girl who gives much thought to what she wears. I mean, if I wore something the previous day, I don't usually reach for that the next morning. But that's really the extent of my thought process. So, I don't know what was different about this morning. Maybe I didn't get enough sleep, or maybe I didn't drink enough coffee, but this task was unnecessarily difficult.

And you know, some people aren't even wearing green. I wonder what would happen if I pinched a total stranger. I just want to run up to them and say "DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH EFFORT I PUT INTO DECIDING WHAT I'M WEARING TODAY?! AND YOU DON'T EVEN CARE? I'M GOING TO PINCH YOU! I HOPE IT TURNS YOUR SKIN RED AND IT MAKES YOUR EYES WATER YOU UN-CELEBRATING-UN-GREEN-WEARING-PERSON, YOU!" I'd certainly give someone else something to blog about.

I could get all English-majory on you all and say this balancing act I performed in front of my closet mirror this morning is symbolic of how I haven't been able to balance my life lately. Yesterday, I was talking to this rather random acquaintance, who asked to borrow my student I.D. card so she could put money on it and make copies of a test at the library. "Sure," I said. "Let me give you my number, and come find me when you're done."

So, she began programming my number into her phone and a little notification popped up. It said "TOO MANY CONTACTS."

Her phone was filled with so many people, she was going to have to delete someone in order to make room for me in her phone. Not wanting her to have to make this tantalizing decision of who to delete from her life forever (or having to send one of those embarrassing "who is this?" texts to a number not programmed in her phone) I just wrote it down for her on a sheet I tore from my Wizard of Oz journal. Quite the sacrifice.

Wouldn't that be nice if my daily planner had that notification? If every once in a while it would say "Brett, you have too much going on. You're going to have to delete something from this list if you're going to function properly." It's usually schoolwork. But, you know, I'm trying to do that whole "graduate" thing that seems pretty popular.

So, anyway. I finally settled on layers today. I'm balanced between hot and cold. Still working out my schedule. Don't pinch me.
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patty's pressure

Several dressing pressures arose this morning at the early hour of 6:45. First thought: it's St. Patrick's day (have a happy one, by the way!). So, something green. Done. Second thought: check weather dot com for the predicted forecast of the day.

6 a.m. 33 degrees
9 a.m. 38 degrees
12 p.m. 57 degrees
3 p.m. 63 degrees

Hmm. So, something green. Something that will be warm for my walk to my class at 8 a.m. and nice and cool for my return from class at 2 p.m.

This made my brain hurt. Now, you have to understand that I am not really the type of girl who gives much thought to what she wears. I mean, if I wore something the previous day, I don't usually reach for that the next morning. But that's really the extent of my thought process. So, I don't know what was different about this morning. Maybe I didn't get enough sleep, or maybe I didn't drink enough coffee, but this task was unnecessarily difficult.

And you know, some people aren't even wearing green. I wonder what would happen if I pinched a total stranger. I just want to run up to them and say "DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH EFFORT I PUT INTO DECIDING WHAT I'M WEARING TODAY?! AND YOU DON'T EVEN CARE? I'M GOING TO PINCH YOU! I HOPE IT TURNS YOUR SKIN RED AND IT MAKES YOUR EYES WATER YOU UN-CELEBRATING-UN-GREEN-WEARING-PERSON, YOU!" I'd certainly give someone else something to blog about.

I could get all English-majory on you all and say this balancing act I performed in front of my closet mirror this morning is symbolic of how I haven't been able to balance my life lately. Yesterday, I was talking to this rather random acquaintance, who asked to borrow my student I.D. card so she could put money on it and make copies of a test at the library. "Sure," I said. "Let me give you my number, and come find me when you're done."

So, she began programming my number into her phone and a little notification popped up. It said "TOO MANY CONTACTS."

Her phone was filled with so many people, she was going to have to delete someone in order to make room for me in her phone. Not wanting her to have to make this tantalizing decision of who to delete from her life forever (or having to send one of those embarrassing "who is this?" texts to a number not programmed in her phone) I just wrote it down for her on a sheet I tore from my Wizard of Oz journal. Quite the sacrifice.

Wouldn't that be nice if my daily planner had that notification? If every once in a while it would say "Brett, you have too much going on. You're going to have to delete something from this list if you're going to function properly." It's usually schoolwork. But, you know, I'm trying to do that whole "graduate" thing that seems pretty popular.

So, anyway. I finally settled on layers today. I'm balanced between hot and cold. Still working out my schedule. Don't pinch me.
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Friday, March 12, 2010

typical

"Once you're with the Wizard, no one thinks you're strange. No father is not proud of you. No sister acts ashamed. All of Oz has to love you when by the Wizard you're acclaimed!"
-Elphaba, the Wizard and I

My sister and I reenact the poster of every Broadway show we see together. If I can't be in a show, I can at least pretend.

It's funny, because once people saw us doing this outside the Landmark theater, everyone wanted to do it. Mostly little kids.

You should see the one we did of Phantom.

I got yelled at for the one I did of Legally Blonde by a police officer (I was standing on a concrete pillar to try to get both myself and the poster in the frame) --- like I said, I get in trouble everywhere I go.

Thanks for playing along, sis!
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typical

"Once you're with the Wizard, no one thinks you're strange. No father is not proud of you. No sister acts ashamed. All of Oz has to love you when by the Wizard you're acclaimed!"
-Elphaba, the Wizard and I

My sister and I reenact the poster of every Broadway show we see together. If I can't be in a show, I can at least pretend.

It's funny, because once people saw us doing this outside the Landmark theater, everyone wanted to do it. Mostly little kids.

You should see the one we did of Phantom.

I got yelled at for the one I did of Legally Blonde by a police officer (I was standing on a concrete pillar to try to get both myself and the poster in the frame) --- like I said, I get in trouble everywhere I go.

Thanks for playing along, sis!
SHARE:

don't rain on my parade

Further, don't tell me I wasn't born for this school.

My dad and I took a road trip to Regent University today. My top choice for graduate studies.

After my admissions interview and tour of the Communications and Art building, my dad and I were lurking around "the Commons," the name for on campus student housing and stumbled upon THE list of 400 Chuck Norris jokes.

Glorious. Clearly, I belong here.



Faj and stood and read the funny jokes aloud to one another. The mutual favorite being, "Chuck Norris grinds coffee with his teeth and boils water with his own rage."

Also, hanging on the wall of the graduate assistant's office was a picture from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. I'm sorry, the signs couldn't be more clear. Any Lord of the Rings allusions and that would have sealed the deal right there.

I really do believe that Regent University would allow my (not so) inner nerd to shine and thrive.

No more holding back. I mean, I've spent the last four years of college being thrilled with writing papers and reading great works of literature. It's just a matter of time before I'll be memorizing html code and wearing white socks and black pants with the best of them. Ew. Sorry, I could never. But, I better polish my pocket protector, just in case!

Seriously, though. What a beautiful school and what a beautiful opportunity. Thank you for your prayers and support --- you know who you are!

It rained all day in Norfolk, Va. But, that's okay. The sweetest lady ever in the admissions office told me that I had sunshine and perkiness. Aw! It's hard not to be happy to be alive at the beach. Plus my happiness sky rockets when I'm nervous. So does my sweaty-ness, but we don't need to get into that here.

I'll leave you with this. What's a father-daughter road trip without a little rapfest? This was brought about by our discussion of my Bible as literature class. I was telling him about our "Oxford Augmented Edition" Bible that we have to read for class, and how big it is and how it was so heavy it broke the straps of my bag.

He said, "When your professor walks in you should say 'Oh my gosh, Becky, look at her Bible it is soooooo big." Leading, of course, into my recitation of Baby Got Book.



Can this be part of the admissions requirement?
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don't rain on my parade

Further, don't tell me I wasn't born for this school.

My dad and I took a road trip to Regent University today. My top choice for graduate studies.

After my admissions interview and tour of the Communications and Art building, my dad and I were lurking around "the Commons," the name for on campus student housing and stumbled upon THE list of 400 Chuck Norris jokes.

Glorious. Clearly, I belong here.



Faj and stood and read the funny jokes aloud to one another. The mutual favorite being, "Chuck Norris grinds coffee with his teeth and boils water with his own rage."

Also, hanging on the wall of the graduate assistant's office was a picture from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. I'm sorry, the signs couldn't be more clear. Any Lord of the Rings allusions and that would have sealed the deal right there.

I really do believe that Regent University would allow my (not so) inner nerd to shine and thrive.

No more holding back. I mean, I've spent the last four years of college being thrilled with writing papers and reading great works of literature. It's just a matter of time before I'll be memorizing html code and wearing white socks and black pants with the best of them. Ew. Sorry, I could never. But, I better polish my pocket protector, just in case!

Seriously, though. What a beautiful school and what a beautiful opportunity. Thank you for your prayers and support --- you know who you are!

It rained all day in Norfolk, Va. But, that's okay. The sweetest lady ever in the admissions office told me that I had sunshine and perkiness. Aw! It's hard not to be happy to be alive at the beach. Plus my happiness sky rockets when I'm nervous. So does my sweaty-ness, but we don't need to get into that here.

I'll leave you with this. What's a father-daughter road trip without a little rapfest? This was brought about by our discussion of my Bible as literature class. I was telling him about our "Oxford Augmented Edition" Bible that we have to read for class, and how big it is and how it was so heavy it broke the straps of my bag.

He said, "When your professor walks in you should say 'Oh my gosh, Becky, look at her Bible it is soooooo big." Leading, of course, into my recitation of Baby Got Book.



Can this be part of the admissions requirement?
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it's today!

Interview with Regent University.
I'll say hi to Pat Robertson for you, if you want.

Or maybe I'll just smile and wave. Like the queen.
SHARE:

it's today!

Interview with Regent University.
I'll say hi to Pat Robertson for you, if you want.

Or maybe I'll just smile and wave. Like the queen.
SHARE:

Thursday, March 11, 2010

reporting live

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S7ehlw_phys&hl=en_US&fs=1&]


This is your future.
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reporting live




This is your future.
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it's keen to be green

"What have you been doing besides riding around on that filthy old thing?"
"Well we can't all come and go by bubble!"

-Elphaba and Glinda, Wicked, Act II (the cat fight scene!)

"They're just shoes! Let it go!"
-Glinda

I feel like a high school girl after prom. In a good way. You know, that "I could've danced all night feeling?" More like a "Dancing through life" feeling. Good times.

So, saw Wicked last night. Turns out, I'm one of 72,000 audience members to enjoy the show at the Richmond Landmark Theater this month (according to the Richmond Times Dispatch). Thank goodness!

If you guys have known me a long time, or for five minutes, you probably know that I'm a little obsessed with Broadway musicals. You probably also know that I'm a little bit obsessed with The Wizard of Oz. So, a Broadway musical with Ozian undertones? Hello! Right up my yellow brick alley!

I was so happy to find little homages to the Wizard of Oz story. It's nice when shows, along with spectacular acting and singing, also reward audience members. Jokes like saying the Wicked Witch of the West is always "flying off the handle." Things like that is what has allowed this show to be one of the top twenty longest running Broadway shows in history.

With that being said, the show in its entirety was absolutely magical. The sets, the lights, the singing and dancing. The flying. Everything. Everything was perfect. Everything was green. From the water fountain in the lobby of the theater to the sequined ties of the ushers.

My mom even shelled out a little green (well, it actually was a lot of green) of her own to purchase the purple "I heart OZ" t-shirt I'm currently wearing.

Speaking of ushers, it's a known fact that I can't go anywhere without getting fussed at for something by a person in "authority." I don't know what it is. I'm a good kid. I don't know what it is about me that sticks out like a sore thumb, but I'm always the one to get checked at the airport. I've been escorted off of private campuses, etc. I've even been admonished by a guide at the Met for swinging my camera too close to a painting (I was standing several feet away from the wall, thank you!). I took a picture of the set on my phone last night. Not five seconds later Green Sequined Tie Lady came to fuss at me.

Green Sequined Tie Lady: Miss, you know you can't take pictures during the show.
Me: (With bright smile and warm disposition) Of course, ma'am.
Green Sequined Tie Lady: You also need to turn your phone off for the duration.
Me: Yes, of course.

I don't get it. Do I look like I'm totally lacking in theater etiquette? I don't talk loudly to my neighbor, I'm sitting in my seat as soon as the lights go dim and the curtain comes up. I don't wear my hair too high so the people behind me can see. Further, I am not boozing it up during the show.

That's right, people were drinking beer. At Wicked. What? The thrill of the theater isn't enough? Do you really need to alter your mindset to enjoy a musical? Forgive me, Green Sequined Tie Lady, but I know how to act in a theater. Go talk to the man behind me sipping on his Natty Light. Okay, so it probably wasn't Natty Light, but I mean come on. It's a musical, not a booze cruise, people.

Moving on. This is where it gets even goodlier.
After the show, I chatted it up with a cast-member for a little while. I didn't know what part she played, but she was standing by the stage door so I figured, couldn't hurt to get her autograph. I just talked to her casually, no big deal. Walked away, and looked up the name she had written on the cover of my playbill.

Oh, it was Natalie Daradich, the actress who played Glinda.

WHAT?!

Newsflash: Glinda is a brunette. Just a little encouragement to all of those aspiring, hair-dying actresses out there. No wonder I didn't recognize her. She was so little, and you know, not blonde. It's a pretty good thing I didn't know who she was at the time though, come to think of it. I would have melted right there in the middle of the sidewalk. She said she was enjoying Richmond, especially after being in Dayton. No comment.

Side note, really want my wedding dress to look like Glinda's. Maybe carry a magic wand instead of a bouquet. Just kidding. Kind of.
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it's keen to be green

"What have you been doing besides riding around on that filthy old thing?"
"Well we can't all come and go by bubble!"

-Elphaba and Glinda, Wicked, Act II (the cat fight scene!)

"They're just shoes! Let it go!"
-Glinda

I feel like a high school girl after prom. In a good way. You know, that "I could've danced all night feeling?" More like a "Dancing through life" feeling. Good times.

So, saw Wicked last night. Turns out, I'm one of 72,000 audience members to enjoy the show at the Richmond Landmark Theater this month (according to the Richmond Times Dispatch). Thank goodness!

If you guys have known me a long time, or for five minutes, you probably know that I'm a little obsessed with Broadway musicals. You probably also know that I'm a little bit obsessed with The Wizard of Oz. So, a Broadway musical with Ozian undertones? Hello! Right up my yellow brick alley!

I was so happy to find little homages to the Wizard of Oz story. It's nice when shows, along with spectacular acting and singing, also reward audience members. Jokes like saying the Wicked Witch of the West is always "flying off the handle." Things like that is what has allowed this show to be one of the top twenty longest running Broadway shows in history.

With that being said, the show in its entirety was absolutely magical. The sets, the lights, the singing and dancing. The flying. Everything. Everything was perfect. Everything was green. From the water fountain in the lobby of the theater to the sequined ties of the ushers.

My mom even shelled out a little green (well, it actually was a lot of green) of her own to purchase the purple "I heart OZ" t-shirt I'm currently wearing.

Speaking of ushers, it's a known fact that I can't go anywhere without getting fussed at for something by a person in "authority." I don't know what it is. I'm a good kid. I don't know what it is about me that sticks out like a sore thumb, but I'm always the one to get checked at the airport. I've been escorted off of private campuses, etc. I've even been admonished by a guide at the Met for swinging my camera too close to a painting (I was standing several feet away from the wall, thank you!). I took a picture of the set on my phone last night. Not five seconds later Green Sequined Tie Lady came to fuss at me.

Green Sequined Tie Lady: Miss, you know you can't take pictures during the show.
Me: (With bright smile and warm disposition) Of course, ma'am.
Green Sequined Tie Lady: You also need to turn your phone off for the duration.
Me: Yes, of course.

I don't get it. Do I look like I'm totally lacking in theater etiquette? I don't talk loudly to my neighbor, I'm sitting in my seat as soon as the lights go dim and the curtain comes up. I don't wear my hair too high so the people behind me can see. Further, I am not boozing it up during the show.

That's right, people were drinking beer. At Wicked. What? The thrill of the theater isn't enough? Do you really need to alter your mindset to enjoy a musical? Forgive me, Green Sequined Tie Lady, but I know how to act in a theater. Go talk to the man behind me sipping on his Natty Light. Okay, so it probably wasn't Natty Light, but I mean come on. It's a musical, not a booze cruise, people.

Moving on. This is where it gets even goodlier.
After the show, I chatted it up with a cast-member for a little while. I didn't know what part she played, but she was standing by the stage door so I figured, couldn't hurt to get her autograph. I just talked to her casually, no big deal. Walked away, and looked up the name she had written on the cover of my playbill.

Oh, it was Natalie Daradich, the actress who played Glinda.

WHAT?!

Newsflash: Glinda is a brunette. Just a little encouragement to all of those aspiring, hair-dying actresses out there. No wonder I didn't recognize her. She was so little, and you know, not blonde. It's a pretty good thing I didn't know who she was at the time though, come to think of it. I would have melted right there in the middle of the sidewalk. She said she was enjoying Richmond, especially after being in Dayton. No comment.

Side note, really want my wedding dress to look like Glinda's. Maybe carry a magic wand instead of a bouquet. Just kidding. Kind of.
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Tuesday, March 9, 2010

weeeeeeee!

This morning, my coffee/peanut butter toast break was spent at my kitchen table in my Mechanicsville home. It's my absolute favorite place to do work. To my left is a huge window that looks out into our outrageously huge yard - and the magnolia tree that my thirteen-year-old brother spends so much time in.

Yesterday, he dribbled root beer on my sister's head while she was doing some photography work. Gotta love little brothers.

Anyway, as I was preparing my coffee I was distracted by my family's collage of pictures on the refrigerator. There are a few graduation announcements, senior photos, a silver, sparkling "Happy 25th Wedding Anniversary" plaque hung by a magnetic Duke Dog, and a yellow "Congratulations to Scotty Wilson, Oak Knoll Middle School Shining Star."

There is also a wedding announcement, one of those trendy "save the dates" that couples do nowadays. There are two pictures of the soon-to-be-newlyweds. One is your basic, girl-has-left-hand-on-chest-of-fiance-to-show-off-the-new-bling picture. Both cheesing like it's their job, so happy, so ready for the future.

The other one, however, is a picture of a couple on a roller coaster. A mixture of joy and fear is in their eyes. Her hair is lovely, and windswept. He just looks insanely happy, and crazy. I thought it was such a beautiful representation of what they are about to get themselves into. Marriage. I don't know how one word can stir up so many emotions. But the two emotions that seem to go along together, at least for couples who are about to step into marriage, are joy and fear.

Though I'm nowhere near thinking about, thinking about, thinking about, thinking about marriage, that picture looks like my life, too. My fresh beginning after college. Joy and fear. Joy, that my life is exciting, that I don't know what the future holds. Joy that I'm not tied down to anything or anyone. Joy that I literally have nothing holding me back from pursuing and following, wholeheartedly, what it is that I am called to do in this life.

Fear, that I have literally no idea what that is or how to do it. It's more of a joyful fear, though. Despite the fact that I'm an English/Journalism major (afterall, doesn't the song go "What the heck do you do with a B.A. in English?), that I feel like I'm way too young to be thinking about rent, or car insurance, or (ACK!) phone bills, I have joy. I am excited.

Some people wouldn't even have the courage to wait in line for the ride. Or would chicken out at the front gate. I'm strapped in, ready to go. My feet are dangling, I'm sitting on my flip flops so they don't fly off in free fall.

Oh, I'm riding the roller coaster, baby.

"He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak."
-Isaiah 40:29


Photo credit: www.shorpy.com
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weeeeeeee!

This morning, my coffee/peanut butter toast break was spent at my kitchen table in my Mechanicsville home. It's my absolute favorite place to do work. To my left is a huge window that looks out into our outrageously huge yard - and the magnolia tree that my thirteen-year-old brother spends so much time in.

Yesterday, he dribbled root beer on my sister's head while she was doing some photography work. Gotta love little brothers.

Anyway, as I was preparing my coffee I was distracted by my family's collage of pictures on the refrigerator. There are a few graduation announcements, senior photos, a silver, sparkling "Happy 25th Wedding Anniversary" plaque hung by a magnetic Duke Dog, and a yellow "Congratulations to Scotty Wilson, Oak Knoll Middle School Shining Star."

There is also a wedding announcement, one of those trendy "save the dates" that couples do nowadays. There are two pictures of the soon-to-be-newlyweds. One is your basic, girl-has-left-hand-on-chest-of-fiance-to-show-off-the-new-bling picture. Both cheesing like it's their job, so happy, so ready for the future.

The other one, however, is a picture of a couple on a roller coaster. A mixture of joy and fear is in their eyes. Her hair is lovely, and windswept. He just looks insanely happy, and crazy. I thought it was such a beautiful representation of what they are about to get themselves into. Marriage. I don't know how one word can stir up so many emotions. But the two emotions that seem to go along together, at least for couples who are about to step into marriage, are joy and fear.

Though I'm nowhere near thinking about, thinking about, thinking about, thinking about marriage, that picture looks like my life, too. My fresh beginning after college. Joy and fear. Joy, that my life is exciting, that I don't know what the future holds. Joy that I'm not tied down to anything or anyone. Joy that I literally have nothing holding me back from pursuing and following, wholeheartedly, what it is that I am called to do in this life.

Fear, that I have literally no idea what that is or how to do it. It's more of a joyful fear, though. Despite the fact that I'm an English/Journalism major (afterall, doesn't the song go "What the heck do you do with a B.A. in English?), that I feel like I'm way too young to be thinking about rent, or car insurance, or (ACK!) phone bills, I have joy. I am excited.

Some people wouldn't even have the courage to wait in line for the ride. Or would chicken out at the front gate. I'm strapped in, ready to go. My feet are dangling, I'm sitting on my flip flops so they don't fly off in free fall.

Oh, I'm riding the roller coaster, baby.

"He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak."
-Isaiah 40:29


Photo credit: www.shorpy.com
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Monday, March 8, 2010

plus, I don't talk very good

"Moses said to God, 'Suppose I go to the Israelites and say to them, 'The God of your fathers has sent me to you,' and they ask me, 'What is his name?' Then what shall I tell them? God said to Moses, 'I am who I am. This is what you are to say to the Israelites: 'I am has sent me to you.'"
-Exodus 3;13-14

Do you ever get the feeling that God is calling you to do something remarkable? Something different? Something that only He, in His infinite wisdom and knowledge, could ever dream for you? That's what I've been feeling lately.

Oh, it's not a constant feeling. I go through my manic ups and downs every day like every other woman. Some days it seems as though there couldn't possibly be anything else I'm put on this earth for but myself. The reality of being a Christ-follower in this world is that it is not easy. What is easy in my walk with the Lord is getting discouraged. What's even easier for me is to believe that there is nothing, no gift, no talent that could ever be used for the glory of God's kingdom. My failures and shortcomings far outweigh the ounce (what's smaller than an ounce?) of what I see in my very self that could ever possibly be considered or mistaken for good.

A friend and I were discussing God and our faiths the first week of school. We confessed to each other that sometimes, through the hustle and bustle, it's hard to just, as Bethany Joy Galeotti would say, "let go and believe." We were sitting outside on the JMU commons, drinking coffee (of course). She looked at me after taking a delicate sip from her mocha-choca-whatever and said, "You know, Brett, God just doesn't make sense when we don't spend time with him."

Woah. She was right. I was having difficulty trusting and believing in God, simply because I was neglecting to seek him out. I had grown distant to the wonderful ways he was moving in my life. It was like a big shot of novocaine to the face: I was completely numb to the pure essence, the grace of God.

We can't grow numb to the majesty and wonder of God. I'm reminded of Moses --- how God revealed himself to him in a physical form (burning bush in this case). We call this theophany. And, through this, Moses still has the audacity to say, "But, uh...God, you s-s-s-ure about this? 'Cause, I mean, it's a great idea, deliverin' your people and all, but, maybs you should just go ahead and, like, use somebody else. Plus, God, I don't talk very good. "

What?

Here, God reveals to Moses who He is. He is what he is. He is everything that Moses lacks to complete this daunting task of releasing the Israelites from the bondage of the Egyptians.

My thoughts as I read this passage went something like this:

Come on, Moses. Get it together! Very little patience is rewarded to Biblical characters who see God in physical form and still doubt and fail to trust what God is calling them to do! Seriously. God, what kind of example does this really set for the rest of us, hmm?

Then the conviction came. In my church, we so eloquently say, "'Pop!' goes the Jesus." Meaning, "Crap, I was wrong."

Because how many times have I looked at the stars? How many times have I admired a flower or a sunset? How many times have I gone hiking in the Blue Ridge Mountains? Still, through all of this beauty revealed to me, I have a hard time believing that God could ever use me.

The bluest sky in the world covers the town of Mechanicsville this morning. I still have the audacity to say, "But, God...I'm a salad-spiller. I'm the falls-up-the-steps girl. I'm the forget-lunch-dates and sleep-through-sorority-functions girl. I can't keep the coffee in my cup most mornings, remember? Further, God, I don't talk very good."

And, though God hasn't revealed himself to me in a burning bush lately (though, y'all will definitely be the first to know if he does) I can distinctly hear him saying, "I AM."

In other words, "Calm it down, Brett, calm it down. I know what I'm doing. Look at all I've done for you. I'm not going to leave or forget about you. You are my daughter, I love you. Remember all that I have carried you through, and look forward to the wonderful adventure I have planned for your life."

When the word has captured my heart, like this, or I've been faithful in prayer (through nothing I've done on my own) the faintest whisper of the Lord's calling will be revealed to me. This is the single, most wonderful and exciting thing to wake up and live for.

God's calling you to something pretty remarkable, too. Whether you are just now finding him, or you have grown numb in your faith to him. Think about your past week, you may have even already grasped an inkling, a taste of it without your even knowing it.

God doesn't need me to fulfill his plan. He doesn't need you either. He is. But, that's the splendor of the Lord that we serve. Even though he is, and we SO aren't, he still has a purpose. Good.

"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."
Romans 8:28
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plus, I don't talk very good

"Moses said to God, 'Suppose I go to the Israelites and say to them, 'The God of your fathers has sent me to you,' and they ask me, 'What is his name?' Then what shall I tell them? God said to Moses, 'I am who I am. This is what you are to say to the Israelites: 'I am has sent me to you.'"
-Exodus 3;13-14

Do you ever get the feeling that God is calling you to do something remarkable? Something different? Something that only He, in His infinite wisdom and knowledge, could ever dream for you? That's what I've been feeling lately.

Oh, it's not a constant feeling. I go through my manic ups and downs every day like every other woman. Some days it seems as though there couldn't possibly be anything else I'm put on this earth for but myself. The reality of being a Christ-follower in this world is that it is not easy. What is easy in my walk with the Lord is getting discouraged. What's even easier for me is to believe that there is nothing, no gift, no talent that could ever be used for the glory of God's kingdom. My failures and shortcomings far outweigh the ounce (what's smaller than an ounce?) of what I see in my very self that could ever possibly be considered or mistaken for good.

A friend and I were discussing God and our faiths the first week of school. We confessed to each other that sometimes, through the hustle and bustle, it's hard to just, as Bethany Joy Galeotti would say, "let go and believe." We were sitting outside on the JMU commons, drinking coffee (of course). She looked at me after taking a delicate sip from her mocha-choca-whatever and said, "You know, Brett, God just doesn't make sense when we don't spend time with him."

Woah. She was right. I was having difficulty trusting and believing in God, simply because I was neglecting to seek him out. I had grown distant to the wonderful ways he was moving in my life. It was like a big shot of novocaine to the face: I was completely numb to the pure essence, the grace of God.

We can't grow numb to the majesty and wonder of God. I'm reminded of Moses --- how God revealed himself to him in a physical form (burning bush in this case). We call this theophany. And, through this, Moses still has the audacity to say, "But, uh...God, you s-s-s-ure about this? 'Cause, I mean, it's a great idea, deliverin' your people and all, but, maybs you should just go ahead and, like, use somebody else. Plus, God, I don't talk very good. "

What?

Here, God reveals to Moses who He is. He is what he is. He is everything that Moses lacks to complete this daunting task of releasing the Israelites from the bondage of the Egyptians.

My thoughts as I read this passage went something like this:

Come on, Moses. Get it together! Very little patience is rewarded to Biblical characters who see God in physical form and still doubt and fail to trust what God is calling them to do! Seriously. God, what kind of example does this really set for the rest of us, hmm?

Then the conviction came. In my church, we so eloquently say, "'Pop!' goes the Jesus." Meaning, "Crap, I was wrong."

Because how many times have I looked at the stars? How many times have I admired a flower or a sunset? How many times have I gone hiking in the Blue Ridge Mountains? Still, through all of this beauty revealed to me, I have a hard time believing that God could ever use me.

The bluest sky in the world covers the town of Mechanicsville this morning. I still have the audacity to say, "But, God...I'm a salad-spiller. I'm the falls-up-the-steps girl. I'm the forget-lunch-dates and sleep-through-sorority-functions girl. I can't keep the coffee in my cup most mornings, remember? Further, God, I don't talk very good."

And, though God hasn't revealed himself to me in a burning bush lately (though, y'all will definitely be the first to know if he does) I can distinctly hear him saying, "I AM."

In other words, "Calm it down, Brett, calm it down. I know what I'm doing. Look at all I've done for you. I'm not going to leave or forget about you. You are my daughter, I love you. Remember all that I have carried you through, and look forward to the wonderful adventure I have planned for your life."

When the word has captured my heart, like this, or I've been faithful in prayer (through nothing I've done on my own) the faintest whisper of the Lord's calling will be revealed to me. This is the single, most wonderful and exciting thing to wake up and live for.

God's calling you to something pretty remarkable, too. Whether you are just now finding him, or you have grown numb in your faith to him. Think about your past week, you may have even already grasped an inkling, a taste of it without your even knowing it.

God doesn't need me to fulfill his plan. He doesn't need you either. He is. But, that's the splendor of the Lord that we serve. Even though he is, and we SO aren't, he still has a purpose. Good.

"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."
Romans 8:28
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Saturday, March 6, 2010

feels like home

Home. In reality, I was just two months and two hours away - but it seemed like a decade. Now, I'm here.

Yesterday, I was greeted by my mother honking the horn as she rolled into the driveway in our family's red minivan. I also was greeted by this tube of toothpaste that my thirteen-year-old brother blatantly had been squeezing out from the middle of the tube.

Older sisters go off to college for a few months, and suddenly all sense of order in the bathroom has unraveled.

I don't really consider myself to be particular with how things are done. I gave a friend a ride to the Richmond International Airport yesterday. Every time I turned up the volume on the CD player in my car, she had to have the dial turned to an even number. That's bad. I just like the toothpaste to be neat. And I like to hang my clothes according to color. And I like to place my books on the shelf from tallest to shortest.

But, I'm not o.c.d. in any way.

Anyway, coming home to Mechanicsville is so much like catching up with an old friend. An old good friend, in the sense that no matter how much time you spend away from one another, you can always pick right back up from where you started. Nothing in this little town ever changes. It still smells the same. It still has the bluest sky in the state. It still has the friendliest, most caring people. Like Pleasantville, but way less creepy.

Thankfully, my relationship with the Lord is the same way. The last few weeks at school have been so busy - it has been incredibly difficult to set apart time to pray, be in the word and (my favorite thing to do ever) journal. It's completely self-deprecating, because the busier I get, the more flustered I become. My sanity loses control, and looks much like that tube of toothpaste.

But, no matter how much time I spend away, or neglect to spend with the Lord, He remains the same. Graceful, understanding, comforting and just flat-out awesome! This week, I've returned home in two ways. Returned to my family and returned to the arms of my Savior.
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feels like home

Home. In reality, I was just two months and two hours away - but it seemed like a decade. Now, I'm here.

Yesterday, I was greeted by my mother honking the horn as she rolled into the driveway in our family's red minivan. I also was greeted by this tube of toothpaste that my thirteen-year-old brother blatantly had been squeezing out from the middle of the tube.

Older sisters go off to college for a few months, and suddenly all sense of order in the bathroom has unraveled.

I don't really consider myself to be particular with how things are done. I gave a friend a ride to the Richmond International Airport yesterday. Every time I turned up the volume on the CD player in my car, she had to have the dial turned to an even number. That's bad. I just like the toothpaste to be neat. And I like to hang my clothes according to color. And I like to place my books on the shelf from tallest to shortest.

But, I'm not o.c.d. in any way.

Anyway, coming home to Mechanicsville is so much like catching up with an old friend. An old good friend, in the sense that no matter how much time you spend away from one another, you can always pick right back up from where you started. Nothing in this little town ever changes. It still smells the same. It still has the bluest sky in the state. It still has the friendliest, most caring people. Like Pleasantville, but way less creepy.

Thankfully, my relationship with the Lord is the same way. The last few weeks at school have been so busy - it has been incredibly difficult to set apart time to pray, be in the word and (my favorite thing to do ever) journal. It's completely self-deprecating, because the busier I get, the more flustered I become. My sanity loses control, and looks much like that tube of toothpaste.

But, no matter how much time I spend away, or neglect to spend with the Lord, He remains the same. Graceful, understanding, comforting and just flat-out awesome! This week, I've returned home in two ways. Returned to my family and returned to the arms of my Savior.
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Thursday, March 4, 2010

notorious procrastinator

"Dev, is that you? I'm glad you're late. This chicken took longer than I expected. I hope it isn't done too much. It caught fire once."
-Ingrid Bergman, Notorious


First of all, if you hear me complaining about how tired I am tomorrow, kindly sock me in the jaw. I deserve it. I am knowingly bringing this upon myself. It's fine.

Only a true film nerd would sit in the library at 12:41 a.m., reading editions of The New Yorker from 1946 (I'm supposed to be doing research for a panel discussion I'm leading tomorrow morning for Hitchcock's Notorious).

So, I've been leafing through all of these articles, and longing to be in the club of people who regard this particular time period as the "good old days."

And then, I stumble upon this advertisement:

"Makers of Art: Hair Pieces
FOR PARTLY OR ALL BALD SCALPS
Invisible
Inside transformations for young ladies (?!). Our 32 years of experience have made many disappointed people happy again."

Ah, the good old days, where disappointed people could be happy, and full of hair, again. There may have been really great things about the "good old days" but I am so glad that invisible hair transformations for young ladies have gone out with the Red Scare.
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notorious procrastinator

"Dev, is that you? I'm glad you're late. This chicken took longer than I expected. I hope it isn't done too much. It caught fire once."
-Ingrid Bergman, Notorious


First of all, if you hear me complaining about how tired I am tomorrow, kindly sock me in the jaw. I deserve it. I am knowingly bringing this upon myself. It's fine.

Only a true film nerd would sit in the library at 12:41 a.m., reading editions of The New Yorker from 1946 (I'm supposed to be doing research for a panel discussion I'm leading tomorrow morning for Hitchcock's Notorious).

So, I've been leafing through all of these articles, and longing to be in the club of people who regard this particular time period as the "good old days."

And then, I stumble upon this advertisement:

"Makers of Art: Hair Pieces
FOR PARTLY OR ALL BALD SCALPS
Invisible
Inside transformations for young ladies (?!). Our 32 years of experience have made many disappointed people happy again."

Ah, the good old days, where disappointed people could be happy, and full of hair, again. There may have been really great things about the "good old days" but I am so glad that invisible hair transformations for young ladies have gone out with the Red Scare.
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Wednesday, March 3, 2010

d for doing just fine, thanks


Picture's worth a thousand words. This might be the most eloquent thing I've ever written.
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d for doing just fine, thanks


Picture's worth a thousand words. This might be the most eloquent thing I've ever written.
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I'm trading my coursework

"Though the sorrow may last through the night, hope comes in the morning."
-Psalm 30:5


Yeah, yeah. That's all great and uplifting and everything. But, my life right now looks more like this:

Though the perpetual reading/paper-writing/presentation-presenting/test-cramming may last through the entire night, resulting in a caffeine-addiction-causing and a string of several all-nighters, spring break comes in two days.

Two days!

Come on! Make like Judy Garland and get happy!
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I'm trading my coursework

"Though the sorrow may last through the night, hope comes in the morning."
-Psalm 30:5


Yeah, yeah. That's all great and uplifting and everything. But, my life right now looks more like this:

Though the perpetual reading/paper-writing/presentation-presenting/test-cramming may last through the entire night, resulting in a caffeine-addiction-causing and a string of several all-nighters, spring break comes in two days.

Two days!

Come on! Make like Judy Garland and get happy!
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Monday, March 1, 2010

nay, I say!

"Simply let your 'Yes' be 'Yes,' and your 'No,' 'No'; anything beyond this comes from the evil one."
-Matthew 5:37

Let's practice, shall we?

"No."

It feels very strange to purse my lips together in order to form this word. It is not used very heavily in my vocabulary.

To my simultaneous delight and dismay (I am a girl, what are you going to do?) this week is full of "no, sorry, I really can'ts."

Because I am not Wonder Woman, and I have never, once pretended to be.*

And though it is very natural, even habitual for me to reply with a peppy and caffeinated "yes," it just isn't always possible.

And will I let this word become a stumbling block? A source of discouragement? A signal to the depth of my being that I'm a failure, or that I don't measure up?

In a word, no!


*Well, except for that one time a barista wrote "Wonder Woman" on my coffee cup at Starbucks, but that wasn't really my choice!
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nay, I say!

"Simply let your 'Yes' be 'Yes,' and your 'No,' 'No'; anything beyond this comes from the evil one."
-Matthew 5:37

Let's practice, shall we?

"No."

It feels very strange to purse my lips together in order to form this word. It is not used very heavily in my vocabulary.

To my simultaneous delight and dismay (I am a girl, what are you going to do?) this week is full of "no, sorry, I really can'ts."

Because I am not Wonder Woman, and I have never, once pretended to be.*

And though it is very natural, even habitual for me to reply with a peppy and caffeinated "yes," it just isn't always possible.

And will I let this word become a stumbling block? A source of discouragement? A signal to the depth of my being that I'm a failure, or that I don't measure up?

In a word, no!


*Well, except for that one time a barista wrote "Wonder Woman" on my coffee cup at Starbucks, but that wasn't really my choice!
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