the world as seen through wide eyes

NEW BLOG- NEW NAME

2009-03-03T21:02:00.006-05:00

At last the unveiling has arrived. That's right folks, I've officially changed my name and my web address.

My new name is: Melissa B. McAllister
My new blog address is: www.melissamcallister.com.

You can also find my updated email address on the new site.

I'd like to thank all the wonderful internet robots at Blogger for the 2 pleasant years I've spent here. It has been an adventure.

I hope you'll all stop by my new site and say hello. This year I'm committed to writing as well and often as I can.

Coming Soon!

2009-01-16T17:21:00.004-05:00

Friends, readers, fellow bloggers; lend me your ears!

While I admit that I have severely neglected my blog in the last six months and rightly deserve a virtual flogging for having done so, this post brings good news of creative scribblings to come. This is a pre-announcement to a major announcement.

Soon and very soon, my writing hiatus will come to an end. I have truly missed the craft of forming words, and I am excited to begin again with freshness. I'd be honored if those readers who are still holding out for me to return will follow me to my new web-destination. In just a few short weeks I'll be launching a brand new site complete with blog, articles, writing projects, recommendations and awesomeness. As Nelly likes to say, this blog will soon have a brand new dress. However, the new domain name will remain unveiled until the appropriate time. On a similar note, I'm getting married in FOUR weeks, at which time I [personally] will also have a new dress and a new name. :)

Stay tuned, folks. There is much to come.

October Approaches...

2008-09-30T19:06:00.006-04:00

October approaches. Crispness

creeping into air,

leaves rustling with color

pressing rusty hand prints into

sidewalks.

Time for socks and sweaters,

pipes and patched scarves.

Time to bring together

warming lover's hands

on long walks under fading

evening skies.

October smells

of freshly sharpened pencils,

sticks of cinnamon,

distant campfires and

pine needles fallen.

Children grow tall

in October,

their minds and legs

stretching out

before my eyes.

I blink and they are changed.

Anticipation spills over.

Unexpected beauty of a new morning

thrills me with pleasant

surprise.

I should never want to know

a world without

Octobers.

(Photo by Sarae)

the quiet things are good for you...

2008-09-13T19:49:00.010-04:00

I'm learning lately that I need more quiet things in my life. I'm beginning to realize that it is healthy to spend a more significant amount of time winding down. Someone recently commented how surprising it is that I should enjoy spending an evening alone with a book and glass of wine. In the midst of so little sleep this summer, I think I appreciate the rare hours of peace much more than I ever have.

But, I haven't only found moments of peace in being by myself. I've found it in genuine friendships, long conversations, and community dinners. There is something so wonderful about being able to rest in another person's presence; whether sitting on the porch early in the morning with my roommate, sharing piping hot cups of tea and long conversations at night with a friend or taking a walk through town without feeling like I have to talk. I find solace in things like a simple, heartfelt hug and listening. Listening is something I'm learning to do better. These days, I'm finding new life in listening to other people.

Last night I slept without any external help. Granted, it took me several hours to fall asleep, but I slept nonetheless. I napped today on my own as well, which was incredibly rejuvenating. Tonight I turned on Over the Rhine's Drunkard's Prayer on the porch and took a few minutes to soar high on my tree swing as the sun was setting. I like feeling the thick wind brush against my face. I like rocking in my teak rocking chair under a blue gray sky, the dark fuzzy shadow of of the dogwoods forming a great canopy of peace and quiet around me. The soft, steady chorus of crickets is soothing, with the occasional cicada singing out a bright solo.

I'm hoping to sleep again on my own tonight, perhaps a few hours longer.

Its good to finally be able to say that I feel at home somewhere. I've not felt truly at home in a very long time. I'm getting there. Slowly but surely, I'm getting there.

Photo by ilkin.

sometimes...

2008-09-05T23:08:00.001-04:00

...life hands me things that make me smile in spite of myself. :-D

it's raining, it's pouring...

2008-08-25T17:32:00.003-04:00

After coordinating a few rides, I dropped my car off at Precision Tune this morning around 8 a.m. Last night my engine over heated, so I was a little concerned about the little Honda. I thought I'd just take her in for a check up and maybe some more fluids. Perhaps she was just dehydrated.

I got the call around 9:45 a.m.

Radiator's busted, bursted, kaputt. Happy Monday.

Well, that pretty much bummed me out the rest of the day. At lunchtime the sky darkened as Fay, the tropical storm of the month, descended on us giving the ground quite a drink. The grass and trees seemed to be letting out great sighs of relief as they opened wide their mouths to receive the rain. I took my turkey and cheese sandwich into the conference room, which has a large picture window and a screened door that opens to the back yard of the office. I turned the lights off and propped open the door and just listened to the rain and occasional thunder for awhile in silence. I felt an incredible urge to run outside and let the heavy rain pound down on my head and drench me completely through. I thought about taking an umbrella out with me, holding it upside down until it filled with water and then turning it over to pour the cool water over my hair and face. It would have felt nice to have the rain wash out my insides.

I didn't do it. Eventually the storm moved on, and so did I.

Sometimes I think the rain in my life can be healthy. Its healthy to cry sometimes. Its sobering to realize I am not in absolute control of my life. But, lately I am really ready for some sunshine.

(Photo by Oviso0n)

Psalm 4:8

2008-08-24T22:02:00.001-04:00

"I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety."

healthy apathy?

2008-08-22T21:50:00.009-04:00

I've been listening to The Weepies a lot lately. I've always liked their sound, but for some reason they seem to be resonating with me the last few months. The combination of beautiful, mellow music and cynical, apathetic lyrics gives me a sense of mingled hope and mild depression.

I've been struggling with feeling well physically this year. According to my doctor, I've apparently developed insomnia and increased intensity of headaches as a result of being too stressed out and/or doing too much. So sleep is an issue. Obviously that effects my attitude in most areas of my life. I find that I am irritable, short fused and generally pessimistic these days, especially when it comes to my job. Don't get me wrong, I really enjoy my job. I have a great boss, fun co-workers and invaluable opportunities to experience some quite interesting work. I've been losing my focus though. Its hard to get through a day without becoming extremely tired and cynical. I have a feeling that protecting my Sabbath will help with this problem. Sometimes I wonder if my body is responding to my recent spiritual apathy or if its the other way around. I feel they are connected somehow though. I think I'm going to drink some Tension Tamer Tea and pray about this for bit, then attempt to sleep.

Below are two sets of words that have been lingering in my head today. I find the contrast between them interesting. The first are the lyrics of a Weepies song called "Not Your Year." I connect with the sense of "[un]healthy apathy" that is conveyed in this song. The second are a few verses from Psalm 3, which is what I've begun to pray for myself these days. Here is a startling demonstration of how the message of the world and the message of God are complete opposites.

One: Not Your Year: by the Weepies

Scattered shadows on a wall, you watch the long light fall
Some impressions stay and some will fade
Tattered shoes outside your door, clothes all on the floor
Your life feels like the morning after all year long.

Every day it starts again
You cannot say if you’re happy
You keep trying to be
Try harder, maybe this is not your year.

Movies, TV screens reflect just what you expected
There’s a world of shiny people somewhere else
Out there following their bliss
living easy, getting kissed
while you wonder what else you’re doing wrong

Breathe through it, write a list of desires
Make a toast, make a wish, slash some tires
Paint a heart repeating, beating “don’t give up, don’t give up, don’t give up.”

Two: Psalm 3:3-5

"But you are a shield around me, O Lord;
you bestow glory on me and lift up my head.
To the Lord I cry aloud,
and he answers me from his holy hill.

I lie down and sleep;
I wake again, because the Lord sustains me.
I will not fear the tens of thousands
drawn up against me on every side."

the world can wait

2008-08-20T20:41:00.005-04:00

Lately my life seems to be spinning faster than the earth. I don't know why I feel constant pressure to "fill up" every moment of my time and energy with extra-curricular activities, people pleasing, and to-do lists. Tonight is the first night that I have rested since I returned from my vacation in Santa Fe. It seems odd that I would come home from a week long Sabbath only to disregard the principle in my "regular" life. But then again, this is a part of being human I suppose.

This evening I've found refreshment in simple things: washing dishes; reading old letters and journals; throwing a tennis ball; walking barefoot in the damp grass; listening to new music; letting the porch fan sweep a warm night breeze through my hair; meditating on a psalm.

I need more nights like tonight. I need to live in slow motion. I want to savor the genuine moments of connecting with other people. I smile inside when I think of these rare gifts. I don't want them to pass me by. I want to protect the Sabbath in my life.

Life is too short not to go deep. The world can wait....

(Photo by DOS82)

exploration...

2008-08-02T00:52:00.007-04:00

Today I got my first nosebleed of the week. Heck yes, I'm in the desert.

Yesterday was a day of exploration in more than one sense. I began the day by going on a beautiful hike with my new friend Liz. We took the Atalaya Trail. It begins here at St. John's College and ascends about 3 miles into the desert mountains. I cannot describe how incredibly beautiful the landscape is here. What struck me the most was the amount of life that thrives in this environment. We saw lizards and birds and rabbits all along the trail. If you look closely in the picture above you can see a lizard that blends in with the tree.

After returning from the hike, I decided it would be a good idea to drive up to Chimayo, an old New Mexico village about 30 miles north of Santa Fe. Everyone has been talking about how beautiful it is and how I must go see the church there while I am here. So, I punched in the address in my trusty GPS (which I borrowed from my sister for the week) and set off on my journey. At some point I made a wrong turn and the GPS began to "recalculate." Before I knew it I was twisting down red dirt roads around the edge of red rock mesa cliffs. There was no sign of civilisation in sight. Just when I decided to abandon my fruitless search for Chimayo the GPS battery died. So I was lost in the middle of the desert (literally) with no cell phone signal, no directions, and no clue how to get home. I finally found a paved road again, called home and got some spontaneous "map quest" directions to point me towards Santa Fe. It was frustrating at the time, but in hindsight, I probably got to see some of the most beautiful part of New Mexico completely by accident.

(This is a picture of the desert I got lost in. This photo doesn't do it justice.)

I had lunch at the Blue Corn Cafe (recommended by Joy) and visited the Georgia O'Keeffe Museum in the afternoon. Last night I continued my exploration by delving into the wells of songwriting that have yet to be tapped. Eva, Ben and I finished our song and really had fun jamming. We perform tomorrow morning for the class. I'm a little nervous, but I am really proud of our song. I'll post the lyrics tomorrow.

Its hard to believe the week is almost over. I've really made some great friends here. Its cool when you can admit that you read Shakespeare plays aloud for fun in your spare time, and nobody looks at you like you're a freak. In fact, they all nod and say, "Yeah, I love doing that." We're all such nerds, but I like being in the company of like minds.

Coyotes and Collaboration These Latter Days...

2008-07-31T00:38:00.011-04:00

The entire campus was rudely awaken this morning around 5:24 AM by coyotes. I remember because I sat up straight in the bed with a jerk, my ears ringing, and looked at the clock. I think the most shocking thing about the coyotes was how loud they were. It sounded like a pack of hyenas had literally entered the building and set off the fire alarm. I'd never heard a coyote before and I can tell you they don't sound anything like I expected. I expected them to sound like dogs, or perhaps like howling werewolves. They sound like screaming hyenas. Their voices cut through the night and echoed back and forth as if they were bouncing around inside of a giant metal bell. It was pretty creepy, I have to admit.

However creepy my awakening may have been, the day only got better. We listened to more of each other's songs in class today and then were divided into groups to collaborate on writing a song to present to the class on Saturday. I got in a group with Eva, Ben, and Deborah. Deborah is local, and had to go to work this afternoon so Eva, Ben and I spent 3 hours throwing ideas around and we came up with a collaborative song that I really like. I feel honored to have had the opportunity to create something with these talented artists. Its funny how these things transpire. I would never have expected the song to come out the way it did, but it morphed into a life of its own and reflects a piece of each of us. We've still got to polish the harmonies, and I'm going to attempt at adding some piano to the mix. We'll probably add a second guitar as well. Once its completely finished I will post the lyrics, and maybe a rough recording if someone with a mac can tape it for us. For now, I'll leave you with the title, to wet your appetites. We call it: "Paper Places."

I went to dinner at the Cowgirl Hall of Fame with some of my new friends. I had fish tacos. They were bueno. Then we carpooled to hear Over the Rhine play in concert. This was a unique experience because it was just the two of them on stage. They have a completely different dynamic without the band. I felt like I could have been in their living room. I like it. :) Robert Deeble, who is participating in the songwriting class, opened. He's got a great sound and is just a super nice guy. Check out his music here.

Yesterday at lunch I mentioned to Karin and Linford that their song, Latter Days, helped me get through one of the hardest years of my life - the year I moved back from Germany. I've seen them play numerous times in the last 3 years but never heard them perform that song. When they came back out on stage for the encore at the end of the show Karin said they would end with a song from their album, Good Dog Bad Dog. My heart rose in my throat as an excited hope swelled that they might play Latter Days. My hopes were realized. As soon as Linford played the first chord and Karin sang the first line, "What a beautiful piece of heartache..." the painful yet wonderful memories of my last few months in Munich came rushing in while the tears fell. I cried through the whole song and it was the most beautiful I've ever heard it. Those 3 minutes will go down in history with the most touching experiences of my life. I gave Linford and Karin a big hug after the show and thanked them. I'm not sure if they played it just for me or not. (Probably not.) But nonetheless I feel it was a gift and was not by accident. It was the perfect end to the perfect day. Tonight really made my week.

I'm going hiking tomorrow after breakfast with my new friend, Liz. Hopefully we won't run into any wild coyotes or poisonous lizards on the trail. :)

(Linford Detweiler, piano wizard)

(Karin Berquist, voice from another world.)

(Eva, Robert Deeble, and Me)

Digestion is Neccessary

2008-07-29T23:44:00.005-04:00

I sometimes feel great tension between myself and myself. Today has been filled with alternating tides of inspiration and defeat. On one hand I have been so nourished by the community of artists here that I feel almost desperate to create. This morning's class was the best one yet. We began listening to each other's songs. Each song was different, and affected everyone differently. It reminded me how organic songs truly are. They are living, breathing animals that cannot be placed in a cage. After having a wonderful conversation with Karin and Linford at lunch (wherein I confessed that I follow them around the southeast when they are touring) I felt a surge of confidence that I might have a song in me that is just waiting to come out.

However, I also had some very enriching conversations today with other writers about books and words. The excitement of writing prose and poetry began to grip me again throughout the course of the afternoon and peaked during Valerie Sayers' short story reading this evening. I was so drawn into the story that I was leaning over the edge of my chair. I left with a sensation of joy that I haven't experienced off of the dance floor in quite some time. (And if you know me, that's saying something.)

As I watched the sunset, I kept mulling over some phrases I wrote a few weeks ago and I realized I was humming. I thought to myself, "Self, don't lose this before it slips away. This could turn into a great song." So I went to a practice room and began to bang out some chords. I was fairly pleased with what I'd come up with after about a half hour. Something about it was nagging me though. Then, just when I thought I'd finally written something mildly original, I realized that I was playing the exact (and I mean exact) same chord progression as OTR's "Little Did I know." Defeat washed over me like the high tide over a hundred sandcastles.

I wonder if I am meant to write songs or simply play and enjoy the songs written by others. I wonder if writing music isn't really my bag. Perhaps I should focus on other writing genres, such as fiction, creative nonfiction and poetry. I'm not sure. One thing I do know for sure is that I love books and I love music. I will never, ever stop reading or listening.

(The photo of the coy fish above doesn't have anything to do with this post. I took the picture this afternoon at the little pond here. I just thought it was pretty and felt like posting it.)

The High Desert

2008-07-28T17:46:00.007-04:00

Last night I spent my first evening in the high desert. It is not at all what I expected. I didn't expect a desert to have cool weather, or so much life and beauty. Its funny how a desert can be so alive. There are animals everywhere and trees growing out of rocks. The Glen Workshop is held at St. John's College which is at an altitude of around 7500 feet. The sky is probably the most amazing part about this place so far. Its the most unbelievable sky I've ever seen. So blue, with huge, fluffy clouds moving across the mountains in ever changing forms. The sun is brighter here it seems, and creation just sings all around me. I did manage to find the only patch of grass on campus this afternoon and take a nap in it. Its easy to relax here. Its easy to rest.

I met Linford and Karin of Over the Rhine last night, and of course I acted like a complete spaz fangirl. I felt like a deer in headlights and walked away kicking myself for turning into a complete goober upon meeting them. However, this morning I was able to redeem myself by having an opportunity to tell my story and listen to the stories of others. I realized that I am not the only rabid fan in the high desert this week, so that was a relief. We spent the first class telling stories and remembering how music has played a role in each of our lives. It was deeply moving and I feel as though any barriers that might have prevented us from being vulnerable with each other as a group came down through that time. By telling my story and thinking about my life and music I was able to identify some areas where I really struggle with the art of creating. I am really looking forward to this week, hoping to grow in multiple avenues.

The community here is vibrant and unique, and already I've made some good friends. This blog has been more informative than creative, but my mind is still in "processing" mode after such an emotionally stimulating morning. I'll be sure to post some of the creative juices later in the week, when and if they start to flow.

At Brittany's request I've been taking "oodles" of pictures. So I'll leave you with a few shots of the incredible show sky put on for us last night. :)

Absence Makes the Blog Grow Fonder...

2008-07-26T19:18:00.007-04:00

Well party people, after a bit of a hiatus from blogging, I'm finally back. I found it ironically fitting that I should re-christen my blog by posting on the eve of my departure to Santa Fe, New Mexico for a week of creative muscle flexing. For those of you who do not already know about my adventure, get ready to be jealous. I'm attending the Glen Workshop where I get to learn about writing and music with Over the Rhine, as well as mingle with other writers, artists and musicians for 7 solid days.

Nelly and Brittany have insisted that I LIVE-BLOG this week, so I will do my best to keep up a daily report (with pictures) of all my goings-on and whether or not Linford, Karin and I are BFF yet. :)

In all seriousness though, I am thoroughly looking forward to this vacation. I've been so overwhelmed with work and life the last few months that I've run myself into the ground. I'm praying that this week will be a time to recharge my batteries -- physically, spiritually, emotionally and creatively. I'd covet your prayers as well for these things. Perhaps when I return I won't neglect my blog or my writing as much. Maybe I will follow Nelly's example and get my blog a new dress when I get back. Maybe she'd like a sassy southwestern outfit from Santa Fe.

Now, I really must be going. My ride for the airport leaves at 5 A.M. tomorrow morning and I haven't started packing yet. :)

(Photo by Rainer Ebert)

face to face with the state of things...

2008-06-01T22:11:00.007-04:00

I finished reading "Oliver Twist" by Charles Dickens last week. I have since almost finished another book. But, nevertheless, the closing paragraph of Mr. Dickens' novel has remained in the forefront of my mind. The book itself seems, in hindsight, to have been a grand soap opera of words from the 17th century. All of the necessary elements were there: scandal, crime, sex, murder, calamity and suspense. But underneath, I found the core to be made up of grace, mercy and the unbelievable presence of God's simultaneous goodness and justice towards humanity, though we rarely notice it.

The book I'm currently reading (Rosie, by Ann Lamott) is riddled with tragedy which is, I'm afraid, not uncommon in reality. There have been moments when I've laughed out loud. Others when I've wanted to cry. Still others, where I've been so angry at the turn of events that I've literally thrown the book across the room. (This is, by the way, the mark of an excellent writer, regardless of how disturbing the contents of the book.) I picked it up again tonight after a 24 hour hiatus from it. I am beginning to see glimpses of coming redemption in it. I am hoping for it.

Incidentally enough, I've also found myself reading the book of Job these last couple of months. That coupled with Toby's sermon this morning on Psalm 90 has made me think long and hard about how fleeting life truly is, and how to live in light of that truth while still holding fast to the unmovable hope we have in Christ. (You can listen to Toby's sermon here: www.redeemerchurch.net)

I'm not sure where I'm going with all of this, but I know I'd like my life to change. I feel a change coming on. I've been challenged this week by various people and circumstances. I'd like to be like Oliver and Rose at the end of "Oliver Twist" as Dickens describes them. They are not strangers to hardship, yet they remain faithful to God and dependant on His goodness to sustain them. Dickens' closing paragraphs express it well:

"How the two orphans [Oliver and Rose], tried by adversity, remembered its lessons in mercy to others, and mutual love, and fervent thanks to Him who had protected and preserved them -- these are all matters which need not be told. I have said that they were truly happy; and without strong affection and humanity of heart, and gratitude to that Being whose code is Mercy, and whose great attribute is Benevolence to all things that breathe, happiness can never be attained."

(Photo by Gary Knight)

Flyin' Solo Over the Rhine...

2008-05-31T00:20:00.004-04:00

I drove to Asheville to see Over the Rhine tonight in concert. Try as I might, I couldn't find anyone who could accompany me. But I made up my mind to go, so I went. As it turns out, a little solo time was just what I needed. Though I sat in a room crowded with people whose names I'd never heard, I was in a world all my own. This was easily the best performance I've heard yet from OtR, hands down.

I am amazed at the power in music. There is a beauty found in music that is indescribable. Music makes something deep inside me move. Sometimes, when I hear good music, I fall into a whirling cyclone of thoughts, memories and fantasies. Other times reality hits like an 18-wheeler. Music is curious that way. It can conjure a different time or place, and can transport the mind onto the pathways of the heart which it would never dream or dare to tread on its own. Music is powerful, much the way words are powerful. I find I connect to so much of myself within music and words. Perhaps that's why I love songs and books so much. I admire those who can weave a rich tapestry with only a handful of words and notes. Over the Rhine definitely fits this description. I will never, ever tire of seeing them perform or listening to their albums.

Tonight, the band seemed so much at ease, having so much fun. Karin, waving her hands high over her head and spreading her arms wide as she sang, as if she were about to take flight; Linford immersed in his piano, eyes closed, head swaying, while the most intoxicating harmonies flowed from his fingertips. I've seen them play before, and they are always excellent. But tonight, they seemed to really be in their element. Although I sat there alone, I was in my element too, my mind travelling, heart pounding in the presence of so much beauty.

I rolled down my windows and breathed deep the fresh scent of the Pisgah woods as I drove down the mountain towards home. Pisgah has the unique quality of always smelling like it has recently rained even when it hasn't. Other than the wind, it was an outwardly silent ride. But inwardly, the music was still playing. Linford's thick, deep chords and Karin's other-worldly voice still ringing in my ears.

I had a nice night flyin' solo. But, next time I'll take you with me. :)

(Photo by Repoort)

freshly baked tears

2008-05-22T22:17:00.008-04:00

Today brought with it the marriage of physical exhaustion and spiritual dryness. I came home from work to a quiet house, a sick puppy, and a mess. Without speaking (which is odd for me, even when I'm alone), I turned on some Over the Rhine and began to unpack from my weekend in Charleston. I cleaned in mental silence, folded laundry and occasionally stopped to pet my sad, sick little puppy's face. At 8 O'clock I went for a walk around the neighborhood with Lindy. I just couldn't stop thinking, even though I tried. When I came home I made some dinner and sat down on the porch to read. I finished a chapter and then decided to see if I could muster up something to blog about.

I felt at a loss for words. I couldn't stop thinking. I couldn't stop thinking about all the secret fears which welled up to the surface last night after talking with my roommate about life and loving others. I couldn't stop worrying about my sick dog, and whether she is going to be OK. I couldn't stop feeling guilty for dancing like a crazy woman so many nights in a row that I've become physically exhausted to the point that I can scarcely find the energy to pray. I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that my roommate, who I've only just begun to know and love so dearly, closed on her house today, marking the beginning of the end of our tenancy together.

And so, in these moments of being trapped between my own thoughts, I decided to read some of my old posts. I chose to read posts under the label "God's Goodness." I read through almost one year's worth of entries speaking the truth of God's goodness to me. Thick, heavy tears came quickly to my eyes and fell down upon my cheeks like stones being thrown into placid water. They seemed to flow from a deep well mixed with joy and sadness at the same time. The ripples are still spreading out, forming large rings in my heart and mind.

Its amazing to me how God will meet me even in my weakness when I am too weak to pray; to weak to do anything with my fear and worry except lay it out honestly and say "I don't know what to do with all of this!!"

I am glad tomorrow is Friday. I get to be with my community group tomorrow night at Barley's. I get to spend my Saturday at home. I get to rest on Sunday - I get to be with my Father and His family.... I long for the fellowship of the Church. I long for the fellowship of Christ. It is good for me to have solitude sometimes. It is good for me to be quiet. It is good for me to remember what is truly important.

(Photo by Caliope)

addendum to the previous two posts

2008-05-20T17:08:00.002-04:00

I forgot to mention the two fabulous dance partners in the video clips previously posted. At the Friday Evening Dance I had the honor of dancing with Wallace Ryerson, and at Folly Beach Pier, Matt Truett.

Charleston Lindy Exchange - Swing Dancing

2008-05-20T11:51:00.002-04:00

One more short clip from the Friday evening dance in Charleston. Wallace and I never plan to color coordinate, but somehow it always works out that way. I guess that's what happens when your favorite color is red. :)

Swing Dancing at Folly Beach Pier

2008-05-20T11:49:00.002-04:00

I spent the weekend in Charleston, SC dancing at the second annual Charleston Lindy Exchange. Here's a little video of me dancing at the Folly Beach Pier. Dancing on a beautiful day overlooking the ocean has definitely made it into my top 5 dance experiences. It was prime atmosphere.

Disclaimer: please ignore the stupid things I do with my feet. :)

glimpses of light

2008-05-13T18:58:00.011-04:00

I realize that I have neglected this blog for quite some time. So much so, that its beginning to look more like an amateur Japanese poetry corner than anything else. I would not be surprised if my few faithful readers had long ago given up hope that I would ever write anything worth reading on the old blogger again. To be honest though, I haven't been writing much at all lately. I've not been doing lots of things. I've just been sort of making my way through each day, one senseless hour at a time, either feeling too much of everything at once or not feeling much of anything at all. And more often, the latter.

This unwelcome numbness has settled into my life at a strange time. It has not settled on me during a time of hardship, sickness, loneliness, or pain. On the contrary I find that most days I want for nothing, and when I think about my life I am astonished at the immense blessing which has been poured out on me.

This evening while I was sitting outside in my backyard reading Oliver Twist I felt a tiny tug against my determined will to finish chapter 34, calling me to let my mind wander. I felt my mind and my senses being awakened, just for a few moments. My insides were flooded with newness and hope in a few fleeting moments as if I had just opened my eyes for the first time. I decided to make a list of all the things that I could think of that do my soul good; things that start sparks in my heart, allowing me to desire Jesus with freshness. Perhaps I can look back to my list when the smog inevitably settles in again, clouding my vision, threatening to quench that desire in me which so longs to burst into abundant flame.

It Does My Soul Good:

1. to be alone sometimes
2. to breathe deep the thick, sweet perfume of honeysuckle
3. to hold the soft face of my puppy in my hands
4. to swing high on the tree swing without fear
5. to listen to very old Rich Mullins tapes (yes, tapes)
6. to read the words that Jesus prayed for me in John
7. to jump in a pile of freshly laundered sheets
8. to drive to the mountains, just because
9. to write a poem for my mama
10. to listen to my sister
11. to clean things
12. to be reminded that I am human, and that life is not about being happy
13. to feel the power of the wind when it almost knocks me over
14. to be honest
15. to stop talking
16. to stand outside and listen to the rain
17. to make good food for someone else
18. to play with children
19. to stare at the many different colors of green in the trees
20. to close my eyes in the middle of the day
21. to rely upon my daddy, and be ok with it
22. to dance till my sides hurt

(Image by inkswamp)

Haiku Tuesday: A Paradox

2008-05-06T21:12:00.001-04:00

Haiku Tuesday: Soup Memory

2008-04-29T12:46:00.002-04:00

Haiku Tuesday: Angry

2008-04-15T22:47:00.001-04:00

Haiku Tuesday: Dance

2008-04-08T23:27:00.001-04:00

Rainy Day Writing...

2008-04-05T08:58:00.007-04:00

I woke up to this morning to another April shower giving life to the blooming Dogwoods and Redbuds outside. I have the great privilege of spending this entire rainy day at home; alone. My roommate is in Charleston this weekend for the Cooper River Run and I have the house to myself. "What a perfect day for writing," I said to myself as I looked out the window at the gray sky. And writing day it is.

Here I sit in my lovely new study, (compliments of the empty room), with a strong cup of Irish Breakfast tea in my favorite "Hey Roomie" mug from Jenny. My puppy is laying at my feet, perfectly content to work on her "everlasting treat" that I gave her after breakfast. Everything is in place. The lamps are lit, the window shutters are open and Linford is playing a dusty old upright piano somewhere off in the distance. This blog entry is just the preamble. I'm excited to have this day to work on all my random writing projects in turn.

"tip-tip-tip-tap-tap-tip-tip-tap-tap-tap."

The sound of my fingers hitting the keys blends musically with the rhythm of the raindrops. Ahhh.....I have needed a day of solitude for quite some time now. Tis a happy rainy Saturday indeed. :)

Haiku Tuesday (on Wednesday) : Empty Room

2008-04-02T12:29:00.002-04:00

Ok, so the Haiku is a little late this week. Better late than never though, I suppose! :)

Showers and Weddings and Brides, Oh My!

2008-04-01T07:43:00.006-04:00

I just realized this morning that it has been an entire week since I posted an entry, and I was thoroughly ashamed of myself. "I can't post TWO Tuesday haikus in a row!" I thought. That would just be getting off easy. But the reality is that this past week has been, as Jennster would put it, "insane in the membrane." I feel as though I'm just now beginning to come back to earth as I've been wandering around in "wedding land" for a week and God has been seriously working on my heart through it all.

For those of you who aren't up to speed, I'll fill you in. My roommate just got married on Friday night. I was not in the wedding party, but living with the bride still puts one in the realm of bridedom to a certain degree. I'll be honest and say that it hasn't been easy for me this week, that God has been breaking through giant walls in my life and that it hurts. But at the same time, I can already feel the healing that inevitably comes after God tears down idols and walls in my life. I will not expound too much more about the details of that here. Its one of those things I prefer to reserve for the face-to-face (or telephone) conversations that so often get pushed aside by our easy Internet friendships. Its my contribution to the "get-people-back-in-your-face-and-be-real-with-them" movement. :)

Needless to say, I am very glad it is a new week, and that there are new adventures to be had, new people to know and new beauty to behold awaiting me in the coming days.

This post is admittedly short, but it is almost time for me to leave for work, and I'm not ready yet. And not to worry, the Tuesday haiku will be posted later today, as usual. :)

(Photo by Bondidwhat)

Haiku Tuseday: Junk

2008-03-25T20:43:00.002-04:00

Highway to the Danger Zone: Six Speeds

2008-03-19T21:31:00.010-04:00

I went to lunch today with my co-worker Betty. Betty is a petite woman in her mid-fifties with a sweet, girlish voice and a delightful laugh. You wouldn't know it on first meeting her that she and her husband ride motorcycles or that she has a serious affection for sports cars. She told me today of all the different cars she's had in her life, almost all of them having been sports cars of one kind or another. Betty just recently got a silver 350Z. When we walked out to the parking lot today to go to lunch, she handed me the keys and asked if I wanted to drive. My eyes lit up like I was a kid again on Christmas morning beholding that beautiful green bicycle, complete with training wheels and new found freedom.

It was quite windy outside and raining, but inside the Z, I was in another world. The black leather seats warmed underneath me with the growl of the engine as I sped up and changed gears. (Side note: I have a secret love of cars with manual transmission - driving is so much more fun with the power to change gears at my fingertips.) Betty turned on the CD player to reveal the soundtrack of Top Gun. I grinned and turned it up loud. Now, I'm sure I looked like a complete idiot cruising along, singing aloud, bopping my head to the beat and grinning so widely that my cheeks hurt. But in my mind I had just been transported to the cockpit of a fighter jet, speeding along through the clouds, racing against the wind and soaking in the rain that pounded steadily against the windshield. Betty just kept giggling at me.

The thrill of driving that fast sports car on a dark afternoon in the rain with the sound of "Top Gun" in my ears lasted for several hours. I have a hard time not grinning even now as I remember it. But this evening, I've been thinking on the words of that song "Danger Zone" that keeps running through my head. I can't help but think of the dangerous roads I've wandered down in recent years, months, weeks, even hours. For example, last night I caught my mind wandering into memories of my past foolishness. This weekend I let myself swim in the depths of my frustration and dissatisfaction. And this evening, as I watched the film "Into the Wild" with my roommate, I found myself longing to leave everything behind and journey out into the world without looking back.

These are all dangerous highways. There were thrilling moments, to be sure, in the beginning. But the thrill usually wears off too quickly. I suppose life is a dangerous highway regardless of where you live or what you do. We're going to make terribly foolish mistakes no matter what. I am reminded of C.S. Lewis' Aslan, fiercely dangerous, yet full of goodness and rightness. I'm comforted to know that Jesus is like that, walking by my side even when I wander down lanes I shouldn't, picking me up when I fall, helping me learn from my mistakes and showing me where the real thrill of life is found: in following Him, on all six speeds.

Of course He isn't safe. Of course He isn't tame for goodness sake. God never promised me that I wouldn't have to live through scary things or that my own sin wouldn't be a danger to me. But he is good. This I know to be true. And I'm not the one behind the wheel, which is also a good thing. So I can be glad to be on this highway, even if it is dangerous at times.

(Photo by: Bill on Capital Hill)

Haiku Tuesday: Clouds

2008-03-18T18:29:00.007-04:00

In an attempt to broaden and stretch my wordy horizons and discipline myself to think creatively and write things down, I will be gradually introducing some new practices into my writer's diet. The first new practice is to write a Haiku once a week, on Tuesdays. I'm taking my inspiration from Nelly's Streams for Sunday, and I may end up creating other "days of the week" writing tasks as I think of them. (And if Nelly will allow, I may start streaming on Sundays too at some point...) :) So, here is the beginning of Haiku Tuesday. Enjoy.

the color of dusk

2008-03-13T21:05:00.005-04:00

I wish my eyes were like wide lens cameras. I am always wishing that the images I see with my eyes could be recorded, exactly as I see them, for me to come back to and revisit again and again. It would be great if I could flip through the images that enter my pupils like slides on a screen. Or like one of those little Fisher Price View-Masters I had as a kid, with the circular reels of miniature slides. I used to love putting those big plastic binoculars up to my eyes and clicking through the pictures. If my mind’s eye were like the View-Master, each time I blinked it would click to the next image, captured perfectly for me to enjoy again and again.

I was thinking about this tonight as I was squeezing in my run just before dusk. I wished that my eyes were able to permanently capture the beauty in the sky so that I could share it with everyone when I got home. But then, I guess that’s what writing is for, so here goes.

The coming of dusk tonight reminded me of a water color painting that I bought in a snow covered square in St. Petersburg several years ago. The sky was rent with long horizontal brush strokes fanning upward in colors of orange, pink, pale blue and ivory. The colors quickly became richer and thicker, hiding the sun behind dark indigo blue and purple like the color of cone flowers. Slender streaks of rose seemed to extend out from underneath the dark blue cloak of clouds, back lighting the sky with lavender hues. I passed the white steeple of “El Camino,” the Iglesia Evangelica whose bright silhouette stood out as if it were a picture in a pop-up book. It was the opposite of the bare trees whose thin branches looked charred like the color of charcoal against the sky’s canvas.

When I rounded the corner on the last stretch of my run, the clouds overhead had blended into the deep gray of evening. The vibrant colors which lit the sky moments before had faded into darkness now. I looked down and noticed a sharp black shadow moving over the flashing marquee of the S&S Cafeteria and the intermittent blinking of red and green from the stoplights. I didn’t recognize it at first, but after a moment I realized that it was me.

(Photo by jpstanley)

Sun Day = Run Day = Fun Day

2008-03-12T18:59:00.005-04:00

I love warm sunny days like today. And now with the saving of the sun I am joyfully surprised again that its so bright outside, even at 7 pm. I decided that a day such as today was a perfect day for a run. So at approximately 6:22 pm I set out on my little neighborhood course under a big blue sky.

For those of you who may be gasping, "Wait...MEL?? RUN??? What about her life motto of 'I hate running'?" Yes, shocking as it may seem, I have finally found the joy of running. I started out slowly, and I'm still working my way up to hopefully being able to run for 30 minutes solid. This week I'm running in intervals of 5 minutes and 3 minutes with walk breaks for a total time of 30 minutes. A couple of weeks ago I participated in my first ever 5k race. I didn't run the whole time, but I think I did pretty well finishing in 37 minutes and 45 seconds. Not too shabby. And the best part is that I had a blast.

I try to change my course a little bit each week so that I don't get bored with the scenery. Tonight I went up my street and over to Azalea Court where I first passed the house with the insta-green-spray-on-lawn. The yard looks like its covered in fur the color that copper turns when it oxidizes. I like to think of it like those spray-on tans, except for grass. I wonder which would look worse in my yard: copper green spray grass or the current muddy slab covered in holes with shards of demolished grass hanging onto to the last possible semblance of life? These are deep curious ponderings...

Next I pass the house I like to call "House of a Thousand Daffodils." I just want to pause here to say that I think daffodils are one of the happiest flowers God made. They just grin at the sky with gladness and wave at me when I run past. Every time I go by that house I want to run over in the yard a pick a whole bouquet full of yellow smiles to take home with me.

Then I circle around on the main road past the Taco Casa (which smells strangely like the state fair to me... maybe its the fried grease...), Fresh Market, Fire Station and 3 dentist offices all in a row until I make it back into the neighborhood. Then I repeat.

As I came down the final stretch towards my house tonight I was thanking God for simple pleasures like running, daffodils and spray-on-grass that make me giggle.

I think running is good for the soul for many reasons, but particularly because it is a metaphor for life and I like metaphors. So I'll end this rambling post with good advice on running (and living) from Shakespeare:

"Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast." (Romeo & Juliet Act II: scene 3)

(Photo by Zed.cat)

Juno: I give it many thumbs up!

2008-03-08T00:01:00.005-05:00

Well folks, its my turn to try my hand a little movie review!

A couple of months ago I was riding along in my car, listening to the local "public" radio which is code for "cool indy jazz n blue grass." One of the things I like about this radio station is that they play cool things I've never heard before. So on this particular morning, I heard a song that the DJ said came from the soundtrack of a movie called "Juno." I'd never heard of the movie before, nor did I have any idea what it was about, but by the end of the song I was convinced I would like it. Its funny to me how I can make a judgement call on a film based on the soundtrack. Strange as that may be, my calculations were correct. Two months later, I finally made it to the theater to see Juno for myself.

I think this is one of the most honest films I have seen in a long time. The characters are witty and edgy, yet beautifully human and down to earth. Its the story of a teenage girl who gets pregnant, and how the experience helps her to better understand who she is, what love is really about, the importance of family and how much she has left to grow up. Its artfully done, with an excellent script and creative cinematography. But underneath all the surface humor and candidness are serious life lessons and hard questions that everyone asks themselves deep down.

Its the stuff of life via a mouthy teenager. I love that. Its honest. Its real. And it speaks volumes. Not to mention it has an excellent soundtrack. (If you're into weird music like I am.)

So, I highly recommend JUNO. I give it many thumbs up. Go see it, if you haven't already. This one has definitely earned a spot in my DVD collection. :)

the strong discipline tree

2008-03-02T22:01:00.006-05:00

I've been coming to terms with some of my frustrations this evening. The primary one is my lack of passion for anything lately. Its very unlike me. I tend to be an overly passionate, intense person. Its not that I don't have moments of excitement or surges of creativity but lately those moments seem to be short lived and peripheral. I think I need more solitude, and more discipline. I suppose that would help a great deal. Especially with writing and with prayer.

I was talking with my friend George tonight about the curse of the muse. Once you have a muse it seems impossible to create (or write in my case) without one. But in reality I think true art comes from within rather than from without. Depending on some outside muse can easily hinder us from ever really improving. Not that outside inspiration is bad, I just think it can become a stumbling block if it becomes the well from which we draw out the essentials of what we are attempting to create. Discipline seems to be a requirement for genuine improvement in any creative activity. It forges ahead even when we want to sit down in the dust of our dry spells and wait for rain. If we didn't have discipline to move us forward we'd die of thirst before we ever reached another well of fresh water. Discipline helps us grow like trees; unnoticeable and slow, but to great strength and stature in the end. I found some truth and encouragement tonight on the subject of strength and prayer from one of Rilke's letters to his wife.

"Life has unending possibilities of renewal. Yes, but this too; that the using of strength in a certain sense is always increase of strength also; for fundamentally we have to do only with a wide cycle: all strength that we give away comes over us again, experienced and altered. Thus it is in prayer. And what is there, truly done, that is not prayer?"

I think Rilke got this right, at least in his summation of strength and the way giving it also produces it. But I think it produces strength of a different kind; the kind that helps us endure, like trees, for many years through all sorts of weather. And perhaps prayer is like this too. The more we pray and discipline ourselves to it, the more our own prayers enrich and strengthen our spirits to pray more, and as a result we grow.

My problem with disciplines like these is that I lack patience. I would like to make an attempt to find regular periods of solitude in my life. I think I need to stop watching so much television, for starters. I think it would quiet my mind and spirit. Hopefully, I will be able to say as Rilke wrote to Rodin that, "I am able more and more to make use of that long patience you have taught me by your tenacious example; that patience which, disproportionate to ordinary life which seems to bid us haste, puts us in touch with all that surpasses us."

I think this patience is key.

I hope to write more this week. Come back again soon. :)

the green door...

2008-02-26T07:51:00.008-05:00

I woke up in the quiet darkness of the morning. I looked over at my clock. It wasn't that early; already seven o'clock. The sun is usually streaming in my window at seven o'clock determined to force me out of my coziness and into the day. But not this morning. It was still rather dark outside and utterly still. There are usually some birds chirping or dogs barking, but not this morning. All the same, I was awake so I rolled out of bed, put on my slippers and bathrobe and walked to the back door to let the dogs outside.

I stood on the porch for a few moments, blinking the lingering sleep out of my eyes. I blinked again. Was it getting darker? Surely not. The sky was gray with a thick blanket of clouds. A slight breeze began to rustle the leaves of the oak tree. It was getting darker. Then I heard the first drops. Pit-pat-pat-pat-pit-pit. The dogs heard it too and hastily scurried back onto the porch, for the wind was picking up now. The wind chimes hanging in the dogwood began to sway and sing. And then it seemed that night had won a wrestling match with day as the darkness settled over the sky and ground, and the storm began to flex its muscles. The rain was pounding down now and the wind swept up against the house in a steady rhythm. I saw the first flash of lightning and heard the low rumble of thunder in the distance. The momentary glimpse of light seemed to bounce off of every corner of the yard and then disappear again into the dark shadows.

The dogs were getting anxious now and beat their tails against the door, begging me to let them back inside. I sighed and conceded to their whining. I stopped short of stepping back into the kitchen. Something about the back door seemed familiar. I’m not sure whether it was the large tri-paned window looking out to the porch or the chipped green paint that curled up around the edges, tempting me to peel it off in long strips, but it was definitely familiar. It made me think of my Grandmother’s kitchen door.

Although it has been many years since her death, I can still remember her kitchen door. It was a Dutch door with two doorknobs. The top half held a large window which opened to the back patio and the sharp fragrance of boxwoods. On the bottom half a nail hung a long string of old metal bells which made loud jangling noises every time the door opened and closed. The sound was like a cathedral of cow bells, all ringing at different times with slightly different tones. As a child, I could reach the bottom doorknob with ease and took great joy in opening the bottom half and creeping outside as if I were a rabbit peering out of my rabbit hole. My sister and I always preferred to use the kitchen door instead of the front door for this very reason. It was as if the door was made specifically for curious children who couldn't decide if they wanted to be inside or out.

My Grandmother’s door was painted green, like mine, only a bit darker. Her door was painted to match the olive colored cabinets and sage colored refrigerator in the kitchen. Like the door, it was a curious kitchen. A small black and white television sat on the edge of the counter with tall bunny ear antennas straining to hold a signal. The cabinets held treasures and secrets. I knew which cabinet held the cinnamon sugar and which held the life cereal and the raisin bran. And I also knew that behind the raisin bran was hidden an olive-green rotary telephone. It was exactly the same color green as the inside of the cereal cabinet where it sat camouflaged. It might have gone unnoticed to the unsuspecting breakfaster, if not for the startling, old fashioned ring which sounded like a bell being hammered with mallets.

Breakfast was my favorite meal at her house. I remember waking up before the sun and tiptoeing down the dark, silent hallway, through the living room and into the green glow flooding out of the kitchen where my Grandmother stood by the stove in her colored housecoat cooking sausage patties and watching gray images flicker on that tiny old television set.

Yes, the back door was definitely similar to my Grandmother's. Perhaps that's why it so quickly felt like home here after I moved in. I let the memories wash over me for a moment. I was a child again, and there standing before me was the image of the quiet, petite woman who reigned in that small green kitchen over all its quirks and secrets.

I grinned to myself. It's time for breakfast, I thought. And I walked to the stove and put the kettle on.

Goodnight Moon...

2008-02-21T22:11:00.005-05:00

Last night my roommate and I bundled ourselves in our warmest coats, scarves and hats. We packed a bottle of wine and the quilt off of the couch. We drove into the mountains, to a place where the trees clear to reveal a wide, smooth rock that looks out over the city and the foothills. It's called Bald Rock. I used to come up to this place often when I was in college. I knew it would be the perfect place to visit the moon. It was pretty much deserted when we arrived. We found a spot where the rock seemed to dip in, like a deep ladle. We spread out our blankets and settled underneath them to wait for the eclipse. I suggested we tell each other stories while we waited. Lindsay didn't get too far with the story she began, so I took over. When the end finally came, she paused for a moment and then said teasingly, "You read too many books, you know." :) I smiled and took it as a great compliment.

The rock had slowly filled with people by the time my story ended. There were groups, small and large gathered across the long cold stone. Some had built small fires and I could see the outline of their faces against the warm orange glow in the distance. Others were standing near the edge of the mountain where all that lighted in the darkness were the ends of a few lone cigarettes. Couples trailed off two by two. And still others sat in half circles laughing and huddling together for warmth. What began as a quiet murmur of voices was now a loud chorus of various conversations.

And then I heard the faint strumming of a guitar. It came from somewhere off to my right. The strumming became louder and the voices seemed to die away. And then a single, clear, beautiful voice sang out into the darkness. No one spoke as the guitar strummed and the girl sang. It was as if her song had temporarily put everyone into a compulsory silence. I blinked as I looked up at the sky and then I was in another time, another place.

I was 19, and I was standing on the balcony of a dormitory at Furman listening to a couple of guys talk about Jesus. We sang out praises to the Lord with the strumming of their guitars and we held nothing back in our songs. Then I was leaning against a tree, deep in the Colorado Rockies, where twenty minutes seemed like a lifetime, and a shooting star assured me that my prayers had been heard. Then it was Easter morning before the sun had risen. I was 21 that year and had no idea what the next steps for my life were. I sat on the great rock with my dear friend Beth waiting for dawn and the promise of new life and resolved to trust and follow even though I could not see exactly where the Lord was taking me. The rock then turned to grass, and it was late on a midsummer's night in a garden in southern Germany. I was laying on my back with Jenna, pointing out constellations, discussing life and marvelling at how we had landed ourselves half way across the world. Then I found myself in a candlelit room with 6 or 7 other precious women whose hands were laid on my head, arms, legs and back as they covered me with their prayers. Then the room disappeared and I was once again standing on this same Bald Rock, not quite one year ago, weeping as I held out my heart before the Lord, broken and bleeding.

I blinked. The end of the girl's song seemed to jolt me back into the present. I looked up at the moon and it was almost completely shadowed in deep bronze. Only a sliver of silver remained. As I took in the great expanse of sky above me I noticed that thousands and thousands of stars had appeared in the absence of the moon's glow. Hot tears stung my cold face and I felt the weight of God's bigness and vastness sweep over me. He met me there in those moments and whispered the evidence of his goodness and the fulfillment of His promises to me just as Jesus explained all of the law and the prophets to the disciples on the road to Emmaus. And like them, my heart burned within me.

It is still winter here, where I live. But I can see and feel the first signs of spring as surely as the daffodil buds push their way through the cold ground in my yard.

a long dry winter...

2008-01-29T22:14:00.000-05:00

Do you ever feel as though winter will never end? I don't just mean with the weather. I mean, the winter of life - winter of the soul. For a couple of months now I have felt strangely like I'm walking through a spiritual tundra. Its cold and dry in my spirit, which I think is almost worse than cold and wet. I cannot say it is for lack of blessing. That is part of what is so strange to me. I am walking through a season of immense blessing at the moment. So, I'm not sure I understand it. I could blame it on being too busy or being overwhelmed with school, work, and life. I could blame it on my living situation or a lack of sleep or even the cold weather. But I don't really think there is an appropriate "blame." I think it is just a season, cold and dry as it may be. I'm sure there is something to learn in it.

I suppose it is possible to walk through drought and blessing at the same time. Either way, I am praying for spring to come soon, in more than just the weather.

(winter sky photo by vnysia)

Oh, the times they are a'changin'

2008-01-23T21:53:00.000-05:00

Well for those of you who've wondered where my blog presence has been for the last several weeks, here is your answer:

new year, new legal class, and new job.

That's right folks, I've begun a new, and difficult class in my studies this month and YES I've started working in a new job. Not just any job though, a real job - a great opportunity - a fountain of blessing. I am now the office manager, paralegal, and legal assistant to Paul Hammack, at the one and only, Hammack Law Firm, P.A.. Needless to say, my evenings are full with my studies, and my days are full with work. And my sleep is full of restlessness as a result of both. Don't get me wrong. I absolutely LOVE my new job. I have a fantastic boss. In fact, I'd say, he's as good as they come. :) But, being a paralegal and office manager in a brand new law firm is hard work, especially when you have no former experience. (like me.) I love being busy with real work. Luckily, I only have 3 months or so left of my schooling, so after that I'll have more time to breathe in the evenings. (and hopefully more blogging too.)

In the meantime, I find my peace in simple things, like nice, old fashioned wooden desks. ahhh the beauty of it. It feels so solid, smells so earthy, and looks so distinguished. I now have a big wooden desk in my own space at work. (at the moment.) It makes me feel important, needed, and kind of, well, smart. I haven't felt that way with regards to my job in a while. Moooooovin' on up! Its weird to say, but check it out, "I'm a PARALEGAL now!" :) :)

I'll post more soon when my life evens out a bit. For now, I'm off to KY to visit my best friend for the weekend and a little brain detox after a slightly overwhelming first week.

Year End Review: Flags For The Course

2007-12-31T10:20:00.000-05:00

I have been missing from the blog world for the last couple of weeks, but I am very happy to be back. Its been a very busy December, and an interesting year. I think its funny how we tend to have ideas and expectations of what each year will hold, and every year turns out to be different than we expect. At least it is that way for me. I took some hard knocks this year. There was certainly a lot of heartache and broken relationships in it. A lot of painful but much needed "sin-killing" happened this year for me. But I also experienced some wonderful surprises in 2007. This year also brought with it reconciliation, forgiveness, and blessing. It took a few new turns I wasn't expecting. I started down a new career path, moved into a new home, acquired new roommates, and received my dear puppy companion. In 2007 I successfully read through the entire Bible, something I have always wanted to do. I joined a church, made new friends, and entered the blog world. Looking back I see that God has walked with me, led me closer to Him, and taught me a little more of what it means to follow Jesus. I've gained a better understanding of who He is, and in light of that I have gained a more accurate perspective of who I am. I hope to continue in this school of learning in the coming year.

Instead of making resolutions I am likely to fail at keeping, I decided to think of some things I'd like to do in the next year. [Flags for the course, you might say.]

In 2008 I would like to:

1. Worry less and pray more. I've realized that Jesus wasn't kidding when he said, "Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." I want my treasure and my heart to be in the right place.

2. Be healthier. I'd like to start thinking of positive ways to live a healthier life. Some ideas I have include actually going to the doctor for regular checkups (I haven't done this since before I moved to Europe. yikes!), cooking with fresh ingredients instead of processed ones, eating less "fast food", walking more and sitting less, drinking more water, and getting more sleep. I think keeping my Sabbaths will help me be healthier too.

3. Dance more. I think this will involve learning a new dance, since my swing dancing has pretty much reached a plateau. I'm thinking of learning either tap or hip-hop.

4. I would really like to learn sign-language.

5. I would really like to take a creative writing class at some point in the future. Blogging has opened up a hidden desire to splash around in the creative puddles in my mind. Maybe some of it will end up on paper.

(Flag photo by Jason Schlachet)

Tis The Season For TV Christmas Specials

2007-12-19T14:00:00.000-05:00

So, I began thinking about this last week when I was sitting on the couch with my roommate. She was flipping through the TV channels when we briefly landed on the last 5 minutes of that famed Christmas special, "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer." Rudolph saved the day by guiding the sleigh in the storm with his nose. And then came the scene of the Island of Misfit Toys. The misfit girl doll and the Jack-in-the-box were sitting around a fire and were so sad. Then Santa came, despite their doubts, and rescued them on Christmas Eve! And before I knew it I was crying. I looked over at my roommate and saw that she was looking at me as if I were from another planet. "What?" I said. The look on her face said it all. "Seriously? You're crying?!!" she said. Then we both began to laugh. She won't stop making fun of me. I don't know what it is about these TV specials that make me cry, but they just do! I was reading an article online today about Rudolph by Rick Goldschmidt . Here is a quote that makes me laugh:

"The number one question that we get asked about the special is: What is wrong
with the MISFIT GIRL DOLL? Arthur Rankin answers this question on page five of my book. Apparently, her problem was more psychological than physical. "

Here's a list of a few other TV Christmas Specials that make me a little weepy:

1. Charlie Brown Christmas - I cry throughout this one, but especially when Linus recites Luke 2 at the end.
2. How the Grinch Stole Christmas - when the Grinch's heart grows three times its size.
3. Frosty the Snowman -when Frosty melts.
4. A Chipmunks Christmas - when Alvin can't afford to get the golden harmonica for his friend, AND when he gets better in the end and they play together.
5. Mickey's Christmas Carol - when Scrooge sees that Tiny Tim dies in "the Christmas future."

Maybe I am weird. Maybe I am just a girl. I think there is something resembling the beautiful story of redemption in all of these holiday shows and that is why they make me cry. Maybe we should pay more attention to them.

My friend Paul has officially dubbed me "a weeper." Well, after all, Jesus wept. And so did the misfit girl doll. So at least I'm in good company! :)

When dreams learn to fly...

2007-12-17T22:15:00.000-05:00

I had an excellent cry this evening. I'm not exactly sure why. It could be for a thousand reasons. It could be because I have been wading into my memory lately. It could be because there is so much longing inside me I think my heart could break. It could be because of the simple, commonplace beauty that I encounter every day. Today I encountered a chilling breeze in the shade followed by a blast of warmth from the sun as I walked down Main Street. I encountered the sound of a puppy's feet scampering across the floor and the weight of her head on my knee. It could be because I laughed with my best friend on the telephone today. Tears well up in my eyes just thinking of how much I miss her. It could be because I read an excerpt from Job last night that made me sad. Perhaps it is because I saw art this week that gave me license to dream. It could be because tonight I listened to something so beautiful that the only appropriate response was to cry. It could be because my life is a part of greater story. Our lives are part of a greater story, one that digs deep, stirs the pot, and breaks up the places that need to be broken. And in the end of that story is life - life which we've only dreamed of, but always hoped for.

It could be a combination of all of these things.

I want to dream more. I want to write down more of my dreams. I want to dive into my imagination without fear. I want to create. I want to experience beauty every day. I want to fly. I want to love with all my heart.

There is beauty and sorrow in the world that can only warrant such a response as to weep. Sometimes I think we need it.

(Art by Janina Tukarski Ellis)

Ever clearer...

2007-12-16T17:07:00.000-05:00

"The books or the music in which we thought the beauty was located will betray us if we trust them; it was not in them, it only came through them, and what came through them, was longing. These things -- the beauty, the memory of our own past -- are good reflections of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself, they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshippers. For they are not the thing itself, they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited."
-C.S. Lewis

Jesus - Emmanuel - God with us,
This is my request: give me clarity in my longing! Father, hear my prayer.

"Thy purpose of eternal good let me but surely know;
On this I'll lean -- let changing mood and feeling come or go --
Glad when Thy sunshine fills my soul, not sad when clouds o'ercast,
Since Thou within Thy sure control of love dost hold me fast."
-John Campbell Shairp

Ballet Reflection...

2007-12-16T00:26:00.000-05:00

Last December I told God that all I wanted for Christmas was a date. Its funny, because sometimes God answers those silly, petty little prayers for us, even when we don't really believe that He will. I know I probably didn't ask with the right motives. I certainly didn't believe it would be granted. I just sort of threw that desire out into the void one night, not even really knowing why I was asking. I still don't fully understand why He gave me what I asked for last year. Maybe it was for some greater purpose that I have yet to unravel, or perhaps it was to teach me a lesson, or maybe... just maybe, it was because He loves me and wanted to give something good to His daughter.

Last December I got taken out on a date by a man I barely knew. A good man; It was very unexpected to say the least. He took me to see the Greenville Symphony Orchestra's Christmas Concert. It was well thought out. It was intentional. I felt special, valuable, and beautiful. It remains in my memory as the best date I have ever been on in my life up to this point.

I'm not exactly sure why I am writing about this memory. Perhaps it is because I went to see the Nutcracker Ballet with some girlfriends tonight. We got all dressed up. I wore red shoes. I got lost in the music a bit. I found myself entranced by the gracefulness of the movements on stage, especially during the Arabian girl's dance. Slow; delicate; controlled; In a moment my mind began to wander. It wandered back to this same time last year, when I sat next to a gentleman in a darkened theater surrounded by such musical beauty that it gave me chill bumps on the back of my neck. Then I blinked and came out of that wonderful, warm, yet heart wrenching memory. Reality always hits like a brick wall.

Music is powerful. I'm convinced of it. It can transport you, transform you, make you laugh or cry, or even console you. The events of the past year are now history - my history. Looking back helps me to see my present self more clearly in the mirror. But, sometimes I still wish those memories would remain in the past.

Needless to say, I will not be asking God for a date this year.

(Image by Pat McDonald)

Outstretched heart...

2007-12-12T21:18:00.000-05:00

There is a strange sensation that comes from giving oneself away. I think our culture lies to us when it tells us that the greatest pleasure and joy comes from seeking self-satisfaction. I have felt jaded and slightly empty of late, and I think it is because I have not been giving my life away. I was pleasantly surprised today when circumstances thrust me into several situations where others had to come first. This is a hard thing to do, but oh the wonder of how it fills up the dry caverns in my soul.

I found myself in a conversation with a friend this afternoon which I cannot mention explicitly but I will say moved me in the deeper places of my heart. My heart broke for her. I felt there were so many things I needed to say to her, and I'm sure I didn't say them all very well. But whatever I did say, I can see that God is at work in them. I prayed much today, and none of it was about me. I felt renewed after tasting again the sweetness of intercession for those who don't know how to pray for themselves. Its been awhile.

When I came home tonight I overheard my roommate on the telephone talking to a colleague about a difficult situation at school. (She teaches kindergarten.) When I asked her if she wanted some tea, she began to cry. My heart broke for her as well. I hugged her. Shortly thereafter, she asked me if I would go to the Asian market with her to help her find what she needed to prepare an elaborate "Korean feast" for her students and their parents on Friday. She seemed overly stressed, and I couldn't refuse such a humble request. My sole mission quickly became finding the strange ingredients needed for a Korean dish we didn't even have a proper recipe for. We went to two different Asian stores on opposite sides of town, called a Korean store, and even called one of my half-Korean friends to ask his mom for help. I quickly forgot about whatever I had planned on doing this Wednesday evening. We finally had everything resolved, ingredients found, and recipes complete. Then I made dinner for us and felt that all was well with the world. I even shared my lasagna with my puppy because she makes me smile inside that she is safe at home. :)

Perhaps this has become somewhat of a ramble tonight, but I think there is something to it. There is something good about putting people and relationships before activities and schedules. There is something life giving in the process of giving your life away to others. I used to live in that world more than I do now. I miss it.

A wise king once said, "Cast your bread upon the waters, for after many days you will find it again." (Ecclesiastes 11:1) This is what is so beautiful about the body of Christ. He made himself everlasting bread for us - and we are casting our bread out to others. Oh, how sweet is the life found in it!

I want a bigger heart to pour out and wider hands to stretch open.

(Heart in Hands photo by Wolfsoul)

Drumroll please...

2007-12-12T16:14:00.000-05:00

Announcing my new alias behind the soundboard:

DJ TANNER!

(dj name nominated by Greg Hemric)

C'mon, its cheesy but its funny, right? :)

[OK I admit it, I still have an extremely bad case of blogger's block. sigh..]

This is one of those moments...

2007-12-11T11:48:00.001-05:00

...when I have a lot on my mind, and much to say, but my brain pores seemed to be clogged and I can't get any good words out yet, so I just post something silly instead. Enjoy. :)

midnight meltdown

2007-12-07T11:15:00.000-05:00

So I went to this fantastic wine tasting party last night with a bunch of girls. I ended up actually leading the wine tasting, after Nina spontaneously nominated me for the job. My disclaimer was that I only know anything because I read it in a book somewhere. :) We tasted twelve delicious wines and ate some yummy cheeses and other wine-loving goodies. Needless to say, I was glad that I didn't drive.

Nina and I got back to my house around midnight. I am so thankful she came inside with me because little did I know that I was about to have a major midnight meltdown. I found a note on the kitchen counter telling me that my dog, Lindy, had run away and that she was nowhere to be found. I cannot describe the despair that overtook me in that moment. Some may think it silly, but if you have ever loved an animal the way I love this puppy, you'd understand. All of the worst case scenarios kept running through my head. We live near 3 main roads so I was sure she would get hit by a car in the dark. It doesn't help that she's black. I was fairly certain she was smart enough to find her way home, but I wasn't thinking straight. I was panicked. I couldn't drive to go look for her. I had no way of knowing where to look. I probably would have started walking around the neighborhood in the freezing cold if Nina hadn't forced me to go to bed. I think I cried for about an hour. I cried myself to sleep.

I woke up this morning around 5am to the pitter-patter of puppy feet in my room. SHE CAME HOME!!! HALLELUJAH!!! My roommate must have let her in. I jumped out of bed and sat on the floor with my puppy in my arms and cried again. Then I went back to sleep for a few hours. I am so grateful for good friends like Nina. I am so grateful my Lindy came home, safe and sound.

I feel emotionally drained and mildly hung-over from the events of last night. I need a good nap.

(Photo by Daniel Greene)

Channel Surfing vs. Entering In

2007-12-05T11:42:00.001-05:00

It is a hard thing to love other people. There's no fancy way to say that. Love involves giving of oneself. Love involves entering into the story of another. That isn't something that is necessarily fun or easy to do. I think we so often define love in terms of what we "feel." But that isn't how God defines love at all. The Bible says that God is love. So, if I want to know what it is to love perfectly and completely I have to look to Him. Do I dare to do that? In light of this, when I think about perfect love - complete love - words like faithfulness to the faithless, deliverance, provision, and sacrifice all come to mind. I heard two excellent analogies recently from Toby, my pastor, in comparing incomplete love and complete love.

Incomplete love is like channel surfing. We flip through the channels until we find something we "feel like" watching. If the people in this analogy are anything like me, they get bored very quickly and don't stay on any one channel for more than five minutes. Complete love is like getting off the couch and entering into the story rather than just observing from our comfort zone. It's daring to embrace something outside of ourselves. This is what Christ did when He left the comfort of heaven to enter into our story. He isn't a distant observer. He doesn't keep us at arms length. He enters in.

The other analogy is from the Phantom of the Opera. In the end, Christine is given a choice. If she chooses to stay with the Phantom (and ultimately lose herself to him - ultimately this is death) her true love may go free and live. If she refuses, they both will die. Christine chooses to kiss death so that the one she loves may have life. Don't we all long for that kind of love? The kind that's unbreakable? The kind we can trust? This love is Christ. This love is self-sacrifice. This may be an inadequate analogy, but helps me to get my mind around it.

So how does this apply to me? I confess that for the past few months I have been struggling to love certain people in my life. I fail to love them because I fail to enter into their lives. I focus too much on my dislike of them, or the ways that they have hurt me, or my own need for their approval. So I keep them at arms length. I put up a wall. But this is not the way it was meant to be. It's not the way I want it to be. My inner battle has shed some light on my love for God as well. I am finding it difficult to love God when I am struggling to love other people. So I've been asking the question that I posed in my last post, "What does it mean to love completely?" I haven't come up with a finite answer. But I have realized that I cannot love completely on my own. Like most things, this too requires grace from the Father. Knowing this, the question I must ask myself now becomes "Do I dare?"

John makes me hopeful when he exclaims, "How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! And we know that when he appears we shall be like him, for we shall see him s he is." (1 John 3:1a, 2b)

I dare.

(Channel surfing photo by Jeroen020)

dove chocolate challenges...

2007-12-02T15:19:00.000-05:00

I like to eat little pieces of chocolate after dinner, or sometimes just because. It works as a dessert without overeating, or as an indulgence without going overboard. I like to buy bags of the little Dove dark chocolates and keep them in my refrigerator. I often grab a couple pieces and enjoy them with a glass of red wine for dessert. Or just when I need a chocolate fix. The great thing about Dove chocolates is that they have little sayings on the inside of the foil. They usually say things like "Sing along with the elevator music" or "Smile before bed. You'll sleep better." These sayings usually make me smile, which is one more reason for eating them.

This week I was sitting on my bed with my friend Nina eating Dove dark chocolates and drinking red wine when the words on the foil struck me like an arrow between the eyes.

It said, "Dare to love completely."

Nina said, "I think you do that Mel."
[Mel blushes]

But, I have had to ask myself, "Do I?" I'm not sure. What does it really mean to love completely? So this challenge from the inside of a piece of chocolate has been stirring me a bit this weekend. Toby's sermon today spoke to this question and I'm still chewing on what he said. So this post is a prologue to what I hope will soon be a coherent batch of thoughts on this great subject: Love.

Do I dare to love completely? hmmmm.....
Stay tuned. More to come.

(Photo: Dove Chocolate Wrapper by Kimblahg)

A loss for words...

2007-11-30T11:06:00.000-05:00

The unfortunate truth is this: I have blogger's block.

Yes, really.

I have felt unable to write this week, and I don't know why. Its unnerving a little bit because writing has become a healthy outlet for me - an exercise of the brain - a challenging dive into my creative puddles - a wide table to serve up the bubbling pot of thoughts that I am constantly stirring in my head.

I'm thinking about my week - there are so many possibilities of things to write... and yet, none of them seem blog-worthy. (or blog-appropriate.) I decided to make a list of possible blogger's block breakers. Here's what I have so far:

1. read a new book. something out of the blue. different. new.

2. go to the park with Lindy and people watch. one is bound to find interesting things to write about there.

3. go to the mall. people watching and window shopping there might stir the pot.

4. hang out with someone i haven't seen in a long while.

5. try writing another poem.

6. call my grandmother.

7. spend some uninterrupted time in prayer

8. take an afternoon of solitude perhaps. i haven't done that in quite a while.

9. try a new recipe (or two).

10. call nelly. (i dreamed that i called you last night. you were riding your bike down a hill. talking on the phone while operating a bicycle is dangerous. you shouldn't do that.) :)

Does anyone have any more suggestions? I need help.

(Dead End Photo by walkingthedeadline)

productivity is bliss

2007-11-26T22:22:00.000-05:00

I have had an incredibly productive weekend. That productivity extended into my Monday as well. The last few months I have felt like there is too much to do, and too little time. When nothing gets completed I feel drained, frustrated, and even guilty. But there is a measure of satisfaction in completing a project, reaching a goal, and watching your time multiply as you use it wisely. I'm surprised at how rested I feel tonight, and how rested I've been all weekend despite all the work I got done. Maybe that's the catch. Hard work is rewarded with good rest. I'm going to make a list of all the things I got done, because I like lists. :)

Wed night:

Made turkey brine and brined turkey.
Made turkey broth.
Made potato casserole with my sister.
Won a game a scrabble with a four letter, 72 point word. (yesssss)

Thurs:

Roasted turkey.
Made gravy.
Had a fantastic time with the family.
Rested.

Fri:

Rested.
Got my car fixed.
Cleaned out my car.
Unpacked and cleaned my room.
Cleaned the rest of the house from top to bottom.
Put up Christmas tree.
Watched a movie and rested.

Sat:

Decorated Christmas tree.
Ran errands
Put up outside lights and rest of Christmas decorations.
Made homemade stockings for me, my roommates, and our dogs. (6 total!)
Made butter cookies from scratch. (yum)
Cleaned kitchen (again)
Watched football.
Worked on homework and planned Sunday School lesson.
Rested.

Sun:

Went to church. (taught Sunday school)
Finished all my essays and assignments for this week.
Put in a Pampered Chef order.
Great fellowship at community group.
Rested.

AND TODAY - MONDAY:

I actually got to do some real work on a case today which was great! I finished the project that was given to me, as well as all the other crazy Monday tasks that I have to do. I had lunch with an old friend. When I came home, I cleaned up the kitchen and living room, went to the grocery store, made supper, and finished my homework for today and finished the review for my final. And all this by 9pm! Now I'm resting, reading, and blogging to chill out.

Its kind of weird to say this, but I think productivity is bliss. :) [Or maybe I am just way too Type A?]

(Bliss Soap photo by Somewhat Frank)

Gracias

2007-11-24T01:34:00.000-05:00

I am thankful for:

my daddy - it would take more than an entire post to say why. Words simply cannot express it. He is one of God's greatest gifts to me.

my mama - she goes to great lengths seeking happiness and goodness for me, even when I do not appreciate her.

my sister - I can honestly say, at this point in my life, she is my best friend.

my puppy - she snuggles with me no matter what I'm wearing. she is unconditional puppy love. ha. :)

my community group and church - they even show up to eat with me on the day after Thanksgiving, when I would otherwise have been alone. I couldn't have asked for better friends.

my grandparents are still alive - there is something so joyful in the experience of interacting with those who came before me. I learn so much.

the measure of peace and contentment God has granted to me at this very moment. Knowing what it is to be without it, I am most grateful to be where I am.

a roof over my head, food on my table, a warm bed, and much needed rest.

I am thankful for many other things, which are all competing in my mind to make it into this list. But these are the basics, and the only ones that will make it into the blog at approximately 1:44 am.

Thank you, Jesus, for being you, for who you are - for loving me and giving me renewed life and making me your dwelling place.

(Photo by Cheese Roc)

Video Blog: Autumn Walk in New England

2007-11-20T09:30:00.001-05:00

Here is my first attempt at video blogging. It has been an experiment of sorts, but I am very happy with the results. This is a two and a half minute version of the walk I took every morning during my visit in New England. :)

Many thanks to Nelly for her tips and inspiriation.

Muchas Gracias to Brittany for so graciously providing me with her Monday night, her mad computer skills, and her Macbook. (note to Santa: I would really like one of these one day!)

Post Script: Links

2007-11-20T09:11:00.001-05:00

Video Soundtrack: "January Rain" from David Gray's album Lost Songs.

Everybody check out Nelly's awesome videos, from whence I drew my inspiration.

Thanks again to Brittany for all your help!

For Santa...

Welcome to New England

2007-11-18T21:02:00.000-05:00

[POST SCRIPT: For some reason the formatting on the shape of my poem is all messed up and I can't get it fixed. So, it doesn't exactly read the same as it does on paper. Just a heads up. ]

I am waiting in the Atlanta airport for my flight back to Greenville after an amazing weekend in New Haven, CT. I thought about writing a narrative blog about it, but I wrote a poem on the plane instead. I think (and hope) it communicates my weekend well.

I call it, "Welcome to New England."

Where d’ya go to school? Looks like
YALE.
Nope. Just visiting. It’s beautiful this time
of year.

First,

North Haven,

then

New Haven.
So many towns;

they all run together.

Piles of leaves in the most vibrant

COLORS:

burning red

golden yellow
always moving
by foot, wheel, or wind.
Orange and brown

even some green;
Let’s go jump in them.

That looks like

fun.

No, let’s keep walking. It’s only a mile.
Up the hill, then down. Over the bridge,
then left. There’s Old Campus, over there’s
Central. The bells are ringing at
Christ Church Episcopal.

Down on Grove Street
we cast our shadows on
broken tombstones.
This is a good place to sit
and read.

“Here lies Nathan Beers
who was born at Stratford. His life was
RESPECTABLE. He received
a mortal wound
from a party of British troops
in his own home in 1779
when he
departed this life.”

Countless courtyards made of old stone,
some were made with
very old stone. Gothic arches with
iron gates;

The essentials here: books and coffee,
don’t forget about Dunkin Donuts
and subsidized beer.

I like Atticus. Serving millions
of scones since 1981.

It’s the Ivy League rivalry.
“Are you all set?”
I got a new scarf.
White and navy stripes
and a blue foam finger;

Sing “Boolah-Boo! BOO! BOO!
Harvard sucks and
Princeton doesn’t matter!”

Never compromise your work and
don’t walk alone
on the green in the dark. You could
get SHOT.
There’s a bitter chill while
waiting for the bus.

School on Monday;
“Are you all set?”
Welcome to New England.
You can see everything from here.

Coming Soon: Video blog of this weekend as soon as I can find a Macintosh.
(Photos of New Haven red maple tree and our shadows in the Grove Street Cemetery)

Swing That Sweet Music!

2007-11-13T09:15:00.000-05:00

In a recent attempt to reignite my love of swing dancing, my friend Paul suggested that I take up the post of DJ. This piqued my interest because I've always wanted to have control over the music. Music, at least, is one aspect of swing I will never lose passion for. So I took up the challenge last night at the Handlebar. I had more fun being the DJ than I have had at a dance in months! It was a blast! I got to pick the songs from my personal music collection. I had a great view of the dance floor from my DJ hiding place behind the sound board. I loved watching the floor fill up with dancers after starting a great song. I was a little surprised at first at how well everyone seemed to enjoy my music. "They like it," I thought, while grinning inwardly.

I met lots of new people this way too. Dancers kept coming up to me asking "What was that last song you just played?" [On a side note to Nelly: I played a song from your Mango CD (Sister Kate by the Ditty Bops) and at least 5 people asked what it was. It was a huge hit!] I even danced a few songs for good measure. :)

I couldn't make it through the evening without at least one screw-up though. When we were ready to shut down for the evening I told Paul that I would play "Last Call", which is what he usually plays last. But before I could cue it up, he started picking on me saying that I could use his "last song" this time, but I had to come up with my own "last song" for next time. It only took a millisecond for itunes to shuffle to a new song when I wasn't paying attention. So, itunes picked my last song for me. Yes, I hate to admit it, but the last song I played was "Summer Girls" by LFO. I think I've had that song since high school. What's even funnier is that they actually danced to it! I am still laughing to myself. :) Hilarious.

So, now that I am a DJ, I need a rad DJ name. I am open to suggestions. Please, everyone, post your nominations!

(Photos of DJ me at the Handlebar)

Stirring a pot of thoughts...

2007-11-11T13:31:00.000-05:00

The house is quiet today. I miss quiet days. It is sunny outside, and wind is blowing the leaves around. There are red, yellow, and white flowers on my kitchen table where I am sitting. My hand is warm from my holding my tea-mug. I am stirring a pot of thoughts in my head.

While driving to church this morning, I was thinking about a conversation I had with a friend on Friday night. Walking down Main Street we saw these two men asking people questions like, "If you died tonight, are you sure you would go to heaven?" I usually steer away from these people. My friend suggested we go and talk to them. A stab of fear pierced me. I told him that I was a chicken and that I wouldn't likely say anything. At this admission my heart sank a little with disappointment in myself. What am I so afraid of? What is so scary in talking to strangers about Jesus? I'm still not entirely sure. Its disturbing that I spent so many years of my life talking to non-Christian teenagers about Jesus and yet I am afraid to have a conversation on the street with a stranger who is at least claiming to be a Christian. This frustrates me. I am still stirring this around in my head.

Speaking of frustration, Grant preached an excellent sermon this morning on what to do with it. It should be posted later in the week at www.redeemerchurch.net. He said we must be both content and discontent. We can be content in our circumstances in light of the hope we have in Christ, despite our frustrations. We don't have to like the things that frustrate us, but we can know that there is something beyond all the frustration and should not lose heart. Then Grant said that while we are content with where God has placed us in life, we should be discontent with the state of the world we live in. We can't be content with "the way things are" and simply shrug our shoulders at the darkness. God desires us to take light into the darkness. He calls us to live faithfully here and now until the day when he makes all things new. These are very hard things to do well. I get frustrated that its hard.

I am thankful that even my frustration at my own sin and fear of man is covered by God's grace. I don't have all the answers to the questions and thoughts swirling around inside my pot, but I'm thinking that God's arm is long enough to reach deep into that pot. I'm hoping in that.

chocolate is a no brainer...

2007-11-08T20:10:00.000-05:00

Well, I've decided to have a dinner party. I know, I am usually the anal, "my house has to be perfect before I can entertain people" type of person, but I've finally come to the realization that it just ain't gonna happen anytime during this lifetime, so I might as well just be hospitable with what I have. I'm having 12 of my favorite girlfriends over on Saturday night. It should be a good time. I fully intend to cook a fantastic dinner too. Here is what is on the menu so far.

SECRET DINNER INGREDIENT: Slow roasted tomatoes. I got this great recipe from Fine Cooking. You roast the tomatoes for about 4 hours and then you can do all sorts of things with them.

1st Course: Crostinis- options include a goat cheese/roasted tomato/pesto/pine nut dip, or whole roasted tomatoes topped with portabella mushroomsand feta. mmmmm.

2nd Course: Spinach Basil Salad tossed with, (you guessed it) roasted tomatoes, bacon, candied walnuts and lemon rosemary vinegrette made with roasted tomato oil. Yum.

3rd Course: Homemade ravioli filled with a parmigiana/butternut squash filling, topped with sauce made with (what else?) roasted tomatoes and fresh basil.

4th Course: Dessert. Except, here is where I run into a dilemma. I can't decide!!! I do know this, it must be chocolate. Chocolate is a no-brainer for a girls night. But I have so many options how can I choose? So, I've decided to try out one of Nelly's cool blogpolls to let the readers decide.

(Photo by Su-lin)

the psalms: a corporate poetry reading

2007-11-07T22:07:00.000-05:00

I have been on a bit of a poetry kick lately. I've been reading more poetry, writing more poetry, and mulling over those poems more than usual. Poems help me to think about things with a different set of eyes. They force me to internalize and unpack the ideas on the paper. I like that.

Tonight at Paidea (our church bible study) we looked at the Psalms. I have read the Psalms many times, and have often camped there for extended periods of time. But it was different to look at the book in a different context; the context of genre, setting, and purpose. Toby made a great point about the poetry of the Psalms. You can't read poetry the same way you read your history book so you can't read Psalms the same way you read Exodus. It makes a difference to recognize the genre of the writing. Poetry almost invites the reader to read between the lines. It is intimate. It is compact. It has rhythm and theme. Poetry taps into emotion differently than prose. So it is with the Psalms.

I also found it interesting to consider that the Psalm-poems were (and still are) used as a tool for corporate worship. It wasn't as if the Hebrews sat quietly in a corner of Starbucks with their espresso and their poetry scrolls and pondered the sentiment behind David's laments. No! The Psalms were sung publicly and corporately. Can you imagine the whole assembly singing together the words of the psalmist, "How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart?" And in the next breath saying together, "But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, for he has been good to me." (Psalm 13:2,5-6)

It gives me chill bumps to think about it. I love poetry, and I'm coming to love God's poems more as I read them again with new eyes.

The Psalms are all about God and bringing our "stuff" to Him. He is the theme and motif. Toby said tonight, "If you finish reading a Psalm and you didn't encounter God in it, you need to read it again."

I think the church could use a few more corporate poetry readings. This is God's poetic Word. Lets read it together. Pass the mic.

(Photo by greentheory)

Operation Clutter Management

2007-11-06T18:04:00.000-05:00

I am surrounded by entirely too much stuff. Its everywhere. I can't stand it much longer.

Too many clothes.
Too many papers on my desk.
Too many hats.
Too many shoes.
Too many coffee mugs.
Too many Pampered Chef spatulas.
Too many old wine bottles. (Why do we save these anyway?)
Too many dog toys.
Too many dogs. (We'll keep those.)
Too many pens.
Too many icons on my desktop.
Too many empty CD cases.
Too many loose CDs.
Too many old Pampered Chef catalogs.
Too many books. ( Wait, I take that back. You can't have too many of those.)
Too many Tupperware containers full of leftovers in the fridge.
Too many coats.
Too many cans of soup in the pantry.
Too many things on the mantle.
Too many leaves in the yard. (Can't really help that though.)
Too many necklaces tangled up in my jewelry box.
Too many magazines.
Too many crumbs on the kitchen floor. (And yes, we actually have too many brooms which we apparently don't use often enough)
Too many things I don't use or need.

Its time for a change. I feel a great need to simplify. To quote a Jack Johnson song, "reduce, reuse, and recycle." I'm not sure where to begin, but I think I'm going to start with my closet.

As of today I have a new mission. It may take an indefinite amount of time. It may be difficult. It may be overwhelming. It may be crazy. It may just help me breathe deeper and rest easier when I come home.

This message will self-destruct in 10 seconds. (whew, one less thing lying around.) :)

(Photo Clutter by Rev Dan Catt)

the highlight of my weekend:

2007-11-04T16:09:00.000-05:00

They make my feet very happy! :)

See more shoes at www.remixvintageshoes.com

Balboa, only deadlier...

2007-11-03T23:11:00.000-04:00

This weekend marked the third year I've attended the Eastern Balboa Championships in Raleigh, NC. In the four years I've been swing dancing this has remained my favorite event. The best balboa dancers in the world gather on the east coast for an incredible weekend of dancing, instruction, and competition. Its a rare opportunity to see such incredible dancers, learn from them, and hopefully, if I'm lucky, grab a couple of great dances with them. I think of all the different swing dances I've learned over the years, Balboa is my favorite. I may not be the best at it, but I have a great time trying! It is a real treat for me to come to this event.

This year turned out to be a bit different than previous years, both in good and disappointing ways. In the past I have always come alone. This year I came with several friends, which changed the dynamic and made for a really fun time on and off the dance floor. I have really enjoyed hanging out with such fun people. However, I've been feeling a bit burnt out from dancing lately. I was hoping this weekend would give me my second wind and re-light the spark I had before. What I've realized though, is that it is time for me to take an extended break from dancing. I hate to admit it, but I don't love it as much as I used to. I've reached a plateau in my skill level and I'm not really getting any better. I don't want to give it up forever, but maybe it will be good for me to break from dancing for a bit.

My friends Steve and Deb were here this weekend with their new baby and I got the great pleasure of holding her for awhile. When she got fussy, it came natural for me to start dancing with her in my arms. The movement quickly quieted her and it made me smile inside. I hope one day I can dance with my own babies in my arms. The beautiful reality is that I will never stop loving the music, and therefore I will never be able to stop moving to it. I can't help it. Its in my system. And besides, I got new red dance shoes this weekend, so they'll keep me motivated to dance on good floors periodically for awhile. :)

playing

2007-10-31T11:49:00.000-04:00

My face reflected
in smooth black, like onyx stone.

Hints of glinting gold;

Open wide its mouth

to eighty-eight smiling

strings. Copper, metal;

Thin black hands over

ivory fingers. They feel

like strong stiffened bones.

Pedals three, are heavy

under foot. Deep breaths in between

the turning pages;

A range of voices

blend together seamlessly.

Sound surrounding me;

Unseen beauty fills

the ear. The room resonates

like a sounding board.

Ringing notes slowly
fade into quiet, until

the last string is still.

(Image by ggcadc)

a child in our midst

2007-10-29T22:05:00.000-04:00

Tonight we have two visitors. We have a Nana, and a child. Yes, three generations sleeping in one room. That room happens to be next door to mine. My roommate Mary, her mother, and her niece, Jenna, are spending the night. I have already retired to my room, where I now sit with a cup of Green Ginger tea, my laptop, and my sweet puppy. Since our house is small and the walls are thin, I have taken to observing intently with my ears.

Observation numero uno:

Upon arrival, Auntie Mary greeted Jenna with a long, tight, squeeeeeeeze of a hug. Before she let her go she said, "OK Jenna, its time for you to let go." Jenna conceded and as Mary lowered her to the floor she let go of her aunt's neck. But, Mary did not let go. She repeated, "Jenna, let go!" The child began to laugh. Mary held on tighter and shook Jenna from side to side, feigning an attempt to shake her off. The child laughed harder. "Jenna, I think... I think we're stuck! Oh no! I think we're stuck!"

Uncontrollable laughter.

"Nana, help us! We're stuck! We're stuck!" they cried. Nana came to the rescue by grabbing Jenna's legs and on the count of three pulled the child away from her aunt in a wild dramatic victory.

Laughter. Tickles. Kisses.

Observation numero dos:

A few minutes later, Mary began putting linens on an air mattress in her room. Jenna's voice began to rise to unnatural heights (even for a four year old). Crying ensued. Once again, Nana came to the rescue. Nana spoke with the calmest voice as the child displayed her best effort at showing her displeasure. "Jenna, you must stop crying and calm down if you want me to listen to you." The child contemplated this idea, but continued to cry a little. "Jenna, did you hear me? You must calm down and stop crying."

The child slowly quieted.

"Tell me, why are you whining so?" Jenna responded with a loud cry, "BUT I WANT TO SLEEP UP THERE ON THE BIG BED WITH YOU!!!" Though I could not see her, I knew that Nana was drawing from the deep wells of patience I often struggle to tap. She said, still quietly and calmly, "You need to ask your Auntie, without whining, if you may sleep on the big bed with me." The child whined. "Can you ask her without whining?" The child whined on. "Listen to me. I am not whining when I'm speaking to you and asking you to do something. When I ask without whining, I show you that I respect you. When you whine, you show that you do not respect me or Auntie."

The child became quiet once more. A few moments of silence followed. Then, a small, quiet voice asked, "Auntie....can I sleep up there with Nana tonight?"

Tears began to form under my eyelids. What a wondrous, difficult, and noble calling it must be to be a Mother and a Nana. I so long to be called into it myself! I wonder sometimes if I should be so gracious, patient, and kind as the Nana next door. Oh God, make me into such a woman!

My thinker began thinkering. I feel so often like this child. I approach my Father in heaven with whining and crying when I don't get my way. My way is not His way. He does not change. Rather He demands change of me. He is gentle, but firm. He is unmoving in who He is, but loves to answer my requests when I obey Him. When I come to Him in obedience, He embraces me and holds me tight. Even when I let go, He is still stuck to me. I cannot shake Him off. Though I am shaken, He will not be shaken.

I have learned much from the child in our midst tonight. Perhaps this is why Jesus told us we must become like little children if we are to inherit the kingdom of God. Perhaps this is the best way to understand our relationship to the Father.

Tonight there sleeps a happy child in the bed with Nana next door. Oh, that I may sleep with such blissful contentment as well.

(Image by: Ranhar2)

Casella and Portland: new music and new friends

2007-10-27T00:06:00.000-04:00

What a wonderful Friday I had. I needed a happy Friday. It has now ushered in a beautiful Saturday morning. I have high hopes for an equally fantastic day.

I had the pleasure of hearing Jeremy Casella play last night at Portland Studios. It was a nice laid back gathering with old friends, new friends, decaf coffee from Leopard Forest, PIE, and excellent music. Jeremy's lyrics are poignant and make me think. I really like his musical style. His strong melodic themes had me humming even after I left. And I think its really cool when artists play the harmonica. I am a sucker for harmonica solos. Jeremy had a few sweet harmonica moments. If you haven't heard of him, you should check him out. Its worth it. Listen to Jeremy's music here.

Another thing I really liked about Jeremy was his honesty and realness. He shared stuff from his life that really gave his songs weight and made them relative to his listeners. I usually think of a good audience as one which embraces the musician. I found that Jeremy is a great musician and performer because he embraces and welcomes his audience with open arms. It was so refreshing to hear someone perform seemingly without pretense.

On that same note, the guys at Portland Studios carry that same sentiment. What a generous sense of welcome and ease I felt the moment I walked in. More than one person greeted me and made me feel almost at home. There is always a hint of uncertainty when entering a new place with unknown people for the first time. That uncertainty quickly melted away for me there. Here is a group of incredibly talented people, not only in their work, but also in their hospitality. Everyone should check out their website, and buy their first self-published book, a new take on Beowulf, which will be released November 15, 2008.

Here's props to Jeremy Casella and Portland Studios. Way to be real, guys... Many thanks. :)

(Image: Album cover of Jeremy Casella's newest record, "Recovery.")

its time for milk and cookies

2007-10-25T22:10:00.000-04:00

Today is Friday Eve. It was the first sunny day after a week of desperately needed rain. When I walked outside this morning the rays of sunlight streamed through the trees and warmed the wet ground, singing the prelude to Friday in loud voices. This whole day has been straining to reach its true purpose: ushering in the weekend. I like Friday Eves because I get that itch of anticipation for something good that is coming. Its the feeling you get as a kid on Christmas Eve. The tree is packed with presents just waiting to be opened. The kitchen smells like cinnamon buns, homemade cookies, and coffee. Listening to Daddy read Luke 2 fills you up with joy - a Savior is coming!! Christmas Eve was almost better as a kid than Christmas Day because of the deep joy that comes from waiting expectantly for something good; waiting for something very good.

That's how I feel sometimes on Friday Eves. Tomorrow brings the introduction to evening fellowship, the possibility of new beers on tap at Barley's, good homegrown music, new friends, sleeping in on Saturday, enjoying a day at home, time to read good books, walks in the park, time with the family of God, and ahhhhhh REST. I can't wait for Friday. I love Friday Eve because it says, "Get ready! The weekend is almost here!"

I've been reading Isaiah this month, and it strikes me as a book full of expectancy. Isaiah is always saying in effect, "The Lord is doing something. Look for it!" Sometimes, he speaks of exile and judgement, other times of restoration and redemption. But the voice of Isaiah never fails to call the reader to expect God to move. I want to live with a sense of expectancy on more days than just Friday Eves and Christmas Eve. I want to live each day full of hope, knowing and even expecting God to show up and do something good. He is so full of goodness.

God says in Isaiah, "Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up, do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland." (Isaiah 43:18-19)

I feel like eating milk and cookies before I go to bed, just like on Christmas Eve. (It helps that I'm listening to Over the Rhine's Christmas Album, "Snow Angel.") I can't wait to wake up on Friday morning. The Lord will do good things tomorrow!!

"And I - in righteousness I will see your face; when I awake, I will be satisfied with seeing your likeness." Psalm 17:15

(photo by Zesmerelda)

love should not just be a banner

2007-10-24T16:53:00.000-04:00

I finished Schaeffer's "The Mark of the Christian" today. Although it is a thin volume there is a wealth of truth in its 59 pages. I found this book to be very convicting, cutting straight to the heart. The central message is that love for one another, as Christ commands in John 13 is the Church's highest calling. It is also a warning that when we fail to love firstly, other believers, and secondly, our neighbors, we fail to present Christ to the world. What a staggering thought. I found myself examining my own heart and how I have not loved my own family this week, nor my Christian brothers and sisters. This book is calling the Church to unity and oneness in love for one another. He makes some provocative statements, but I think we need to hear them. I know I needed to read this book. I've quoted a few excerpts below.

"The meaning of the word Christian has been reduced to practically nothing. Surely, there is no word that has been so devalued unless it is the word of God itself. Central to semantics is the idea that a word as a symbol has no meaning until content is put into it. This is quite correct. Because the word Christian as a symbol has been made to mean so little, it has come to mean everything and nothing."
"We cannot expect the world to believe that the Father sent the Son, that Jesus' claims are true, and that Christianity is true, unless the world sees some reality of the oneness of true Christians."
"We must show a practical demonstration of love in the midst of the dilemma even when it is costly. The word love should not just be a banner. In other words, we must do whatever must be done, at whatever cost, to show this love."
"When everything is going well and we are all standing around in a nice little circle, there is not much to be seen by the world. But when we come to the place where there is a real difference and we exhibit uncompromised principles but at the same time observable love, then there is something that the world can see, something they can use to judge that these really are Christians and that Jesus has indeed been sent by the Father."

- The Mark of the Christian, by Francis Schaeffer

a bottomless well

2007-10-23T21:59:00.000-04:00

"Fear of man will prove to be a snare but whoever trusts in the Lord is kept safe."
Proverbs 29:25

I sometimes wish this were an easier truth to swallow. I wonder why its so hard for us to believe it. Why do we care so much what other people think? Why do we constantly try to draw our worth from empty wells? I've had conversations about this with several people in the past couple of weeks and it has got me to thinking on it. The fear of man certainly is a snare. It makes us do things we don't want to do. It makes us believe lies about ourselves - about our identity. Worst of all, I think, it feeds self-absorption. Sometimes I will avoid people because I don't want to have to think about what I think they think about me. This is such a hard thing.

I had a long conversation tonight with my roommate about what it means to really let our identity rest in Christ. We went round and round in this conversation until finally she said, "I know I need to fall more in love with Jesus, and I want to but I just keep messing it up. Maybe I'm not trying hard enough." This strategy always goes horribly wrong because every phrase begins with "I."

The reality is that our relationship with Jesus begins and ends with Him. He loves us first. We mess up again and again, but he still loves us. He is unmovable; unchangeable. When we do love Him, it is because He first loved us. We are changed because He transforms us. We are saved by grace through faith and that is not of ourselves - it comes from Him. He is the beginning and the end of all things, even our relationship with Him, even our loving Him. This is why Proverbs says "whoever trusts in the Lord is kept safe." He's not going anywhere.

Recognizing this great truth again tonight is water to the dry places. Perhaps this has been a bit of a ramble, and perhaps it hasn't made much sense to anyone who's reading this. But it has helped to point me to the bottomless well of living water that is opened up right in front of me and right inside of me.

We can't live in the past. We can't live in perpetual "regret." But we can look to Christ. If we didn't love Him yesterday, we can look to Him today. We can let Him use the past to change us in the present and hold our hand as we walk into the days to come. Our God is so full of unfathomable goodness. I need to remember that more often.

Jesus answered her, "If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water. "

"Sir," the woman said, '"you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water?"

Jesus answered, "Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed the water I give him will become in him a spring of water, welling up to eternal life."

John 4:10, 11, 13-14

monday morning musings...

2007-10-22T10:40:00.000-04:00

It's raining outside. Sometimes I love the rain. Sometimes I hate it. Today I am in between. Rain usually makes me think a lot. Rain also usually gives me a headache - my sinuses don't like it. But my headache is waning and I have started settling into my rainy day thoughts.

It's also Monday morning. Sometimes I like Mondays. Sometimes I hate them. Today I am in between. I didn't want to wake up this morning. My puppy was so cute this morning when I rolled over to get up. She literally scooched all the way from the foot of my bed and sat her butt right down on my chest so her face was on my face. I guess she doesn't like waking up on Monday's either. :) But awake I am, and its the beginning of a new week. I like new beginnings. They make me hopeful.

My roommate Lindsay and I really bonded last night. We made an appetizer together for Mary and Tim's engagement party. She was a great date. (except I think she spiked my drink.) :) I think she is going to stay after Mary moves out, at least for a little while. This was a relief and eased my mind. I was stressing a little too much about it I think. We decided to go together to the Halloween Dance Party, so we are trying to come up with a great "dynamic duo" costume. If Nelly would show me how to do those cool blog-polls I could let the readers vote. (hint to Nelly - when do my blog-pimping lessons start?) :)

It is almost time for lunch. I feel like soup and a book today for lunch. I haven't had a chance to read in a few days with all that's been going on. I bought a new book this weekend. Another collection of Rilke's poems but this one has both the German and the English side by side. I get a lot more out of it this way rather than reading just the German or just the English. I think I will sit on my porch with my soup and my book and listen to Rosie Thomas. I need more time with my thoughts today. My mind is wandering into so many different rooms right now. This post is turning out to be similar to Nelly's "streams" I think.

For those of you who were anticipating the blog about Round Two of Over the Rhine on Friday night, I am sorry I have yet to post it. I was just too tired this weekend. So, although this won't do it any justice, I will post a mini-blog within a blog about Round Two. Here it is:

OTR ROUND TWO: DING DING!

Linford is a musical wizard. I would write a discourse on this guy if I had the time, energy, or space to do it. It doesn't matter what he's playing; piano, organ, guitar, bass, or all of the above. Its like magic in my ears when he sits at the piano though. He is a champion improviser. After hearing him twice in one week, I can say that its seems like he doesn't ever play the same song the same way. It was absolutely brilliant.

I met Rosie Thomas, and she is so nice. I bought another one of her CD's. I saw her standing at the bar before the show, so I went over to introduce myself. We talked for about 15-20 minutes or so and I just really like her. She's very down to earth and really quite humble and sweet.

I sat in the second row this time and I had 8 of my friends come along. It was great to introduce so many new people to such a fantastic band. That makes me happy. Karin was gorgeous as usual, but particularly enchanting on Friday. The show definitely had a "Friday night feel" to it in comparison with Wednesday night. She was a little more sultry, sang a couple of sexy Christmas songs from Snow Angel and she just had a little more sass. In the end, all I can really say is: what a voice!

(photo of my rainy back yard, from my phone)

Over the Rhine Live: Round One

2007-10-18T13:42:00.000-04:00

(Photo by Brittany Holcombe)

ROUND ONE: DING!

Last night I had the great privilege of seeing Over the Rhine live in concert with my friend Brittany at The Grey Eagle in Asheville, NC. This was the second time I've seen OtR in concert and I have to say: they just keep getting better and better! I really like The Grey Eagle as a venue because its cozy. There's a bar in the back and couches up front. It was like having Karin and Linford in my living room. Talk about incredible acoustics too. Live music is one of those experiences that is unparalleled in my opinion. I absolutely love it.

Before I go any further with this blog, I have to mention, that Brittany and I ate dinner at this funky little place called "Eatie's Cereal Bar." They had all kinds of old school cereal and you can just fill your bowl up with whatever you want and then pick your milk. They had yellow booths and a big screen that played old Saturday morning cartoons in the back. I felt like a kid again! If you haven't tried a cereal bar lately, I highly recommend it. I had a combination of random cereals, but I think I was most excited about the fruity pebbles. :)

OK, on to the highlights:

New discovery of the evening: ROSIE THOMAS. Where has this girl been hiding all my life? It was by far one of the best opening acts I've seen in awhile. Her lyrics were piercing and honest and her music was tender and mellow. She was really cute and funny too. One odd observation though: her talking voice sounds nothing like her singing voice. She has this high pitched, cute, girly talking voice and then this soulful, Sarah-McLaughlin-esque singing voice. She also sews aprons and sells them with her other merchandise. Moral of this story: Rosie Thomas rocks. Buy her CD. I did. :)

The lineup: We had fair seats, but about 5 songs before the end some people left from the front row. So, we slipped up to the front for an incredible view. It was perfect timing too because the very next song happened to be in my top 3 OtR songs - "Suitcase" from Ohio. The lineup was a good mix but was naturally weighted with songs from "The Trumpet Child." I think they played 2 songs from Ohio, 1 from Drunkard's prayer, a couple of great covers (including "Fever" and "Orphan Girl" also two of my favorites) and the rest were from "The Trumpet Child."

Favorite Comments from the Band: Linford described the title song "The Trumpet Child" as a mixture of his growing up around old hymns and his love for the great trumpeters of the 20th century like Louis Armstrong and Miles Davis. He said that he's always wondered what God's great trumpet call in the end will sound like - in his words, "What's on God's iPod?" He said this was their very own "jazz hymn." It was so incredible it gave me chill bumps. Karin made some excellent comments about their visit to the White House. When asked what they wanted to say to people in their music, she responded with, "you don't have to live life in fear."

Best Moment: It's hard to pick a "best moment" when Karin wails like she does on every song, melting your heart and taking your breath away. But, I'm gonna have to say that when Karin pulled out an old burnt metal cookie sheet and started playing it like a tambourine in "Don't Wait For Tom", I knew it doesn't get much better than this. Only this band could pull that off and still be classy!

(photo of Karin playing the cookie sheet by Brittany Holcombe)

I bought two t-shirts and got a free concert tour poster. I also bought Rosie's CD. I can't decide which shirt I'm going to wear to the show at the Handlebar on Friday night. I think I'll wear the red one. Red is a good color. I feel like an OTR groupie for going to two shows in the same week. But I like being a groupie... I am already gearing up for round two!!

DING DING!

the OtR marinade

2007-10-17T17:05:00.000-04:00

Two Days Out:

Thaw. The best method is to listen to the cool favorites such as Snow Angel and Darkest Night of the Year.

One Day Out:

Tenderize by listening to "The Trumpet Child" in the car for no less than 24 hours, working it in thoroughly.
Soak overnight in "Drunkard's Prayer" and two glasses of Cabernet.

The Day of:

Season with the aged oak taste of "Films for Radio", fresh ground pepper, and sea salt.
Dip into the mournful wells of "Good Dog Bad Dog" to add depth of flavor and a lot of soul.
Rinse lightly in some of Linford's solos for softness.
Last, but not least add in a generous portion of "Ohio" for the sweet aftertaste of reminiscence.
Saute', sizzle, and sear with anticipation during the 1 hour drive to the concert.
Serve hot with a side of dark chocolate and a glass of red wine (your choice)

TONIGHT IS THE NIGHT!!!! :)

tuesday evening laughs

2007-10-16T18:44:00.001-04:00

Call me cheesy, but this video made me laugh out loud today!

Click here. It is worth the one minute and 17 seconds. :)

Now that I've had my Tuesday evening laugh, I'm going to go heat up some leftovers and then I'm going out for a pint. They are tapping a new Rogue at Barley's tonight called "Santa's Little Helper." Perhaps there will be a follow up blog on it. :)

wade in the water...

2007-10-14T16:03:00.000-04:00

hello dear blog.

Love is a curious thing. Sometimes I wonder at how I feel so far off from it, even when it wells up inside me. I think I'm realizing in a new way that true love is sacrificial. Obviously there is the ultimate sacrificial love: Jesus. But, the reality is that love, even in my everyday life, must be sacrificial. What does that look like? I'm not entirely sure. I have an idea, and I'm pretty certain that its the hardest thing to really live out consistently. I hate that it is hard.

Let me recap my weekend. Perhaps these thoughts will mesh into some sign of intelligent life on mars.

A man asked my roommate to be his wife this weekend. He took her to the Biltmore Estate and carried her across a river. I suppose it was meant to be symbolic. Would she follow him into the tide? Would she trust him to carry her? Would he love her more than himself, even if the water rose to dangerous heights? The answer is yes. She said yes. He said yes. They are getting married in March. Its beautiful, really.

Saturday night I went to a Wedding reception. The bride was absolutely stunning. There was beauty all around. Words were spoken about the marriage vows and what they mean. I found comfort in hearing that even in this we cannot fulfil those vows without Christ. He is sufficient when we are not. I saw my dear friends, George and Terri (parents of the bride) looking joyful. That made my heart smile. At one point the photographer gathered the family together. Now this was a beautiful picture. In the center were George and Terri (parents) and around them were their newlywed daughter and son-in-law, next to them their son and his wife, and then their other daughter and her fiancee. They all kissed their beloved ones as the camera flashed. It was beautiful.

There has been much on my mind these past few days that has slowly been sinking into my bloodstream. I have yet to be able to express it. The hard part about all this is that while I am excited and moved to tears by these beautiful, even wonderful events, somewhere inside me is a very selfish little girl who can't stop looking inward. I have mulled over my fears of being alone when my roommate(s) leave, and my fears of never knowing this type of love. I've been sad when I've pondered the idea that somebody must want to be around another person all the time to want to marry them. That is hard to imagine in my life. I don't really like to be around me all the time, and I've lived with myself for 27 years. I've looked inward, and struggled to pour out into the lives of those around me.

Love must be sacrificial. Even in the small things. Tonight I was alone while my roommates were out celebrating. I wasn't invited. I felt lonely. I felt hurt. And as I mulled over these feelings and all the events of the weekend I realized that even in this I struggled to love them. I asked God to help me see beyond myself. He did. I forgot myself long enough to love on them when they got home. Its hard to sacrifice, especially my own self-love and self-pity. That is often the hardest thing to give up.

And now I run to the lover of my soul - the one who was sacrificed for me and who lives to intercede for me - the one who despite the blackest parts of my soul, says "I want to be with you all the time. I want to marry you." Oh that I may learn to love fully and deeply -in every day life... that I may learn that love is not about me.

For some more interesting (and much more coherent) thoughts on this topic, check out a recent post on Revol.

goodnight dear blog.

hospitality is:

2007-10-14T01:25:00.000-04:00

She who reconciles the ill-matched threads
of her life, and weaves them gratefully
into a single cloth—
it's she who drives the loudmouths from the hall
and clears it for a different celebration

where the one guest is you.
In the softness of evening
it's you she receives.

You are the partner of her loneliness,
the unspeaking center of her monologues.
With each disclosure you encompass more
and she stretches beyond what limits her,
to hold you.

— Rainer Maria Rilke, "The Book of Hours"

I want to be like her.

mountain air, strong coffee, and jennster von loves-a-lot-son

2007-10-13T16:01:00.000-04:00

I rose early this morning and drove to the mountains. The morning sun streamed down through a canopy of the brightest green as I wound my way through the countryside leading up to Tryon, NC. At the end of the road I was met with fresh mountain air, a pot of strong coffee brewing, and my dear friend, Jenny Morris, aka Jennster von Loves-a-lot-son. This is a rare treat for me because Jenny lives far away in Memphis. Luckily her folks live in Tryon, only a 45 minute drive away from me. She was home this weekend, so I jumped at the chance to see her.

We poured our coffee and sat on her parents' back porch which has one of the most incredible views I've seen this side of Colorado. We talked about life, God, boys, and old friends among other things. We seem to both be settling into the idea that life isn't about where we used to be or where we want to be but rather where we are right now. I suppose life has many seasons and those season are always changing, but it helps to know what season you are in, so you can embrace it fully. We both agreed that we are in a season of singleness and as much as everyone around us seems to think this is not such a great thing, we're both realizing that it isn't such a terrible season. There's beauty in it, adventure, quietness and hope. I want to live in the present without dwelling on what used to be, or what will maybe one day be. I came across this verse this morning in Isaiah. I found it to be quite fitting:

"Forget the former things; Do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now, it springs up; Do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland." (Isaiah 43:18-19)

We also talked about music, writing, and blogging. Yes, I admit it, I am a total blog-nerd-internet-junkie-woman. But, if you are one of those too, then you should check out this website that Jenny showed me. Its her friend Amy's blog and she has some amazing thoughts to share. Jenny also introduced me to a new band. I like their sound a lot. Check out Newcomers Home.

It was such a sweet time. I miss her already.

How is it that some people always make you feel at home? I've felt more at home in the presence of dear friends like Jenny than I have sometimes felt in my own house.
God is so good for giving me such a wonderful happy Saturday gift. :)

I want to be more grateful than I am.

i heart goat cheese

2007-10-11T22:00:00.000-04:00

Today was a beautiful fall day. So beautiful that it was really hard to stay inside at work all day when I wanted to go outside. I passed much of the time during the afternoon contemplating what to eat for dinner. I really love eating so this is something that occupies my time on a regular basis. Since I'm trying to eat healthy, I couldn't just go eat fast food or something pre-made and bad for me. Then I made my mistake. I went to the grocery store. Word to the wise: never go to the grocery store when you're hungry without a list. You just end up deciding you want to eat everything and then you buy stuff accordingly. Well, I didn't do quite so bad, but I did end up with a hodge-podge of foods which didn't exactly go well together when I got home. For example, here are some things I bought:

Fresh Salmon
spaghetti sauce
Alfredo sauce
goat cheese
lemons
golden raisins
pasta
wine
Parmesan cheese
Fine cooking magazine on appetizers

I ended up broiling the salmon, which I only ate half of.
I cooked some broccoli that I had at home, with some of the Parmesan cheese on top.
To top it all off I baked half of the goat cheese with honey, almonds, and raisins and ate it on kashi crackers complemented by a glass of white wine.

I quickly discovered, that the only thing I wanted to eat for dinner was the goat cheese. I didn't finish my half of my salmon, and I ate all the broccoli for good measure. But man, if I could get away with it I would just eat goat cheese for dinner. So much for being healthy right? :)

I'm so glad God created goats. They can be so cute and cuddly sometimes, but mostly, I just heart their cheese.

a busy puppy

2007-10-10T22:12:00.000-04:00

People always told me that Border Collies were hard workers. I knew that they were great for working on farms, herding sheep, or competing in dog shows. I read somewhere in a magazine that the Border Collie was declared the world's smartest dog. Now that I have the great blessing of sharing my life with a beautiful Border Collie named Lindy, I do not doubt that statement. Nor do I doubt that Border Collies were made to work. Lindy is nearly 8 months old now, and the best way to describe her is: BUSY. She always has an agenda. She always finds a job to do. Sometimes they are good useful jobs, or silly jobs, even cute ones. Other times they aren't so pleasant. As she gets older I am committed to finding legitimate useful jobs for her to channel her work ethic into. But for now, I am enjoying watching my busy little puppy grow up into the busy dog she will be for the rest of her life. :) I'm sure in her mind, Lindy has a rhythm to her day. I imagine she has a great checklist in her head of "things to be done." I've come to notice several of these things, and I chuckle to myself when I imagine her going down her list, placing a check or a star next to each item as she succeeds in completing them each day. I've listed some of her favorite jobs below.

Chasing squirrels up a tree

Staking out the tree that the squirrels are hiding out in (Lindy would make a good cop...she's relentless)

Digging holes in the yard, especially around the oak tree

Creating nice cool burrows in the dirt underneath the azalea bushes to rest in during the day

Herding the other dogs (much to their chagrin)

Gathering firewood (there is a new pile of large sticks at my back porch nearly every day)

Killing mice and depositing them on the back steps

Antagonizing the neighbor's cats

Playing referee for the neighbor's kids when they play ball in their backyard. This consists of Lindy running the length of the fence calling fouls on the game and trying very hard to get control of the ball.

Fetching just about anything that can be thrown. (favorites include tennis balls, sticks, Frisbees, and squeaky toys)

Working on rawhide bones

Getting treats out of kong toys (actually this is quite a difficult task)

Opening the porch screen door, even when it is locked

Greeting all visitors at the door with overwhelming excitement and wagging tail

Taking me for walks in the park

Sitting for treats

Waiting by the fence for me everyday when I come home from work

Chasing me when I am swinging on the tree swing

Pulling out the garden hose into the yard

Chasing water

Cuddling on the couch with me

Resting her head on my knees when I'm sad

Being cute, pretty much all the time

Teaching me to be less selfish and more responsible

Being the best physical companion a single girl could ask for

This is only the short list, though that may be hard to believe. At the end of the day, I feel so blessed to have this busy little puppy constantly working for me, and more importantly working on me. I am her biggest project. :) It's a good thing for me she's a Border Collie. A different dog might have given up by now!

O Nelly Where Art Thou?

2007-10-10T14:38:00.000-04:00

Once upon a macintosh,

There was a Nelly who liked to write.
She posted blogs most every day.

She wrote with all her might.

She was a stream of creativity,

A fountain full of mirth.
She made me want to write as well.

So came my blog to birth.

At first it was a difficult task,

To write with grace and wit.

But Nelly read on faithfully,

And never let me quit.

She became my favorite reader.

She was the only one.

She always left me comments,

And made blogging much more fun.

But then one day she flew away,

To California far.

Now she rides a shiny bike,

And never got a car.

Days went by and then a week,

And no posts from her were seen.

I missed ol' Nelly's witty blog.

I missed it in my spleen!

And so dear lonely paper,

With reader only one.

I write these words to help me find,

My Nelly on the run.

So, Nelly if you can hear me,

Stop your writer's slack!!

My blog and I both miss you.

Please come back, come back, come back! :(

(props to Paul Bailey for digitally enhancing the milk carton with Nelly's face.)

renaissance carnies

2007-10-08T10:43:00.000-04:00

(photo from www.craigsminstrel.com)

I went to North Carolina this weekend to visit my friend Mary. We were debating on what to do on Saturday, and since the local Renaissance Festival was going on we decided to go check it out. A renaissance festival is a good choice for a saturday if you want to do some seriously hilarious and sometimes frightening people watching. :)

I've been to carnivals and fairs before and I've seen some weird looking people. But the carnies at this place really added a whole new spin on kooky. The picture above is very tame, because I wanted to keep this blog G rated. I saw more exposed body parts, tight pants, open shirts, and just plain freaky looking people than I've seen in one place in a long time! It was really funny to think that there are some people who dress up like this voluntarily. (And then create websites to advertise themselves. Hence, the picture above) There was one man wearing skin tight crushed velvet pants, an open ruffly shirt and a robin-hoodish-like hat with feathers in it twirling ribbons and juggling. I wandered around thinking, how do you end up doing this job? I mean, I wonder are there really kids in the world who think, "When I grow up I want to be a professional ribbon twirler/juggler at the renaissance festival." I don't get it. What's worse though are the so called "normal" people who do not work at the festival, but actually buy these costumes and wear them around as if its the latest fashion! To each his own I guess...

I also had one of those love/hate experiences with a giant turkey leg at the renaissance festival. Yes, they were selling giant turkey legs, and corn on the cob and sausage on a stick. Although I am on a diet, they smelled really good so we thought, "when in Rome..."

Yeah, that great tasting turkey leg took about 15 minutes to start assaulting my innards. I felt uncomfortably full all day and probably should have taken some pepto-bismal. To my dismay, at 2am Sunday morning my stomach decided it was ready to kick some turkey leg out of my body. And, yes, I was painfully ill in the night. It wasn't until Sunday at church when I took communion that my insides starting feeling better.

Perhaps this physical affliction was God's way of reminding me that feasting on the world is sickening whereas feasting on Him is healing.

breakfast hope

2007-10-03T21:25:00.000-04:00

I had breakfast with Toby, my pastor, this morning. Here is an example of God's incredible grace and goodness. I get to eat eggs and grits with my pastor at 7am on a Wednesday morning, just because I asked. I love having a pastor who is my friend and a spiritual father and mentor at the same time. After I talked about all things I struggle with, namely feeling like the most selfish person on the planet (which in fact is an expression of me being selfish!), and laughing at myself, getting frustrated, and laughing some more Toby said some things, that as always, will stick with me.

He said, "You know, you're not the only one who struggles with this. And you're not doing so bad as you think. I can see the cynicism in your eyes, but trust me, there is hope."

I left thinking about what E. Prentiss says in "Stepping Heavenward": Stop dwelling on the past. If I did not love God yesterday as I should, I can start now. I can begin again today, because as many times as I fail, he still loves me. I am unfaithful, but He loves me! I don't obey him, but he loves me! I am selfish and impatient, but he loves me! I am a sinner, but he loves me!

I think I really need to let this sink in all over again. I need to remind myself of these truths every morning. Starting over today has made a difference in my level of peace and joy. I've not "arrived" yet, but I'm still walking on the road..

Here is a great hymn that is singing in my heart:

Father long before creation,

Thou hast chosen us in love.

And Thy love so deep, so moving,

Draws us close to Christ above.

Still it keeps us, still it keeps us

Firmly fixed in Christ alone!

Though the world may change its fashion,

Yet our God is ever the same.

His compassion and His covenant,

Through all ages will remain.

God's own children, God's own children

Must forever praise His name!

God's compassion is my story,

Is my boasting all the day.

Mercy free and never failing,

Moves my will, directs my way.

God so loved us, God so loved us,

That His only son He gave!

Loving Father now before Thee,

We will ever praise Thy love.

And our songs will sound unceasing

Till we reach our home above.

Giving glory, giving glory,
To our God and to the Lamb!

Giving glory, giving glory to our God and to the Lamb!!!!

the peace of great books

2007-10-01T20:35:00.000-04:00

Greenville, South Carolina is home to Bob Jones University. BJU is across the street from my neighborhood. One great thing about Bob Jones is its bookstore and library. The bookstore is better than any Christian book store I've found around here -you know the stores whose shelves are full of popular christian self-help books with titles like "How Jesus helped me lose weight" or "Sex isn't the problem: A look at lust." Or whatever.

Ok, Ok, I admit it, I am myself guilty of browsing through those bookstores and have even bought a few worthless pieces of literature there. But, I haven't bought anything in one of those stores for about a year. Anyway, I have a habit of reading about four books at a time because there is so much I want to read. I want to read great books - the kind that are old, textured and real - that speak to the real stuff of life. And, as far as Christian books go, BJU has a great selection. Great spiritual giants such as Spurgeon, Edwards, Baxter, Lewis, Schaeffer, Tozier, and many more I won't name here. And on a side note, I love Harry Potter too, though you won't find him at Bob Jones! :)

Anyway, I finished one of my favorite books today, "Stepping Heavenward" by Elizabeth Prentiss. This was my third time reading it and I have to recommend it because it just keeps getting better with each read. So, naturally I couldn't be satisfied to just finish the other books I am reading without adding a few new ones to the pile. So, I decided to take a little trip to the BJU bookstore after work. I was drooling over all the titles and authors I wanted to buy and read, knowing full well that I could not read them all at once. So finally I settled on two titles. A thin book by Francis Schaeffer titled "The Mark of a Christian" and a compilation of Puritan Writers called "A Golden Treasury" compiled by Mariano Di Gangi. I've read a few small works by such puritans as Jonathan Edwards, John Owens, and John Bunyan. I want to read more but they are so hard to choose - there are just so many and they are all so meaty to read through, I find it impossible to pick. So, I hope that this compilation will give me a good sampling of Puritan authors. So, this brings my current book list to:

1. The Bible - otherwise known as the good book.

2. The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck

3. The Essentials of Alternative Dispute Resolution (this is a text book for my law class -poo)

4. When People are Big and God is Small by Edward T. Welch
(a book my pastor just handed me on Sunday - he said everyone should read it. I'm only into chapter 3, but I like it so far.)

5. The Mark of the Christian - Francis Schaeffer

6. A Golden Treasury - A Collection of Puritan Devotions -by Mariano Di Gangi

7. Fine Cooking Magazine -Sept/Oct issue. :)

This may seem ambitious, but I have no intention of finishing them all in a timely manner. I just like to read lots of things at once. Especially good books. Its like the words of a poem of Carl Sandburg's called "For you."

The peace of great books be for you.
Stains of pressed clover leaves on pages,
Bleach of the light of years held in leather.

I find peace in great books just like I find life in great music. Like The Mamas and the Papas. I'm listening to The Mamas and the Papas right now. Its the perfect accompaniment to a glass of red wine, a Godiva dark chocolate bar, and a great book. :)

spaghetti for breakfast

2007-09-29T10:13:00.000-04:00

The morning is here and all is quiet except for the occasional rustle of leaves as the wind passes through the trees and the distant sound of Linford playing on the stereo inside. Its chilly enough for a sweater, but the filtered sun shines onto the porch and warms my face. Yes, this glorious, wonderful, quiet Saturday morning is finally here. I feel like I have been waiting my whole life to have this morning. Both of my roommates have gone out of town, and they've taken their dogs with them. Only Lindy and I are left.

If truth be told, I've been struggling lately. Busy-ness seems to crowd out rest, and the volume of work to be done seems to outweigh time like a sumo wrestler against a mouse. Most of the time I feel incredibly lonely, but I never have the luxury of just being alone. With two roommates (whom I love) and three dogs (whom I love) and what seems like constant dinner parties (not thrown by me) and visitors, I find that I long for solitude and quiet. And the same battle that has raged in my heart my whole life, the battle against selfishness, seems to have flared up amidst all of this. It is a hard thing to deal with the sin of self-love. Its a tricky one because it manifests itself in so many ways. Whether I am high or low, alone or in company, happy or sad, tired or wired, it pops up and takes root again. And it hurts when God takes a trowel to that root and kills it. I wish I knew how to be free of this battle, but I am sure God uses it for good, though I don't always see it. I am identifying most these days with one of my favorite literary characters. Her name is Katy Mortimer Elliott and she is the main character of a wonderful little book called "Stepping Heavenward" by Elizabeth Prentiss. Here is a snippet from Katy's journal that captures my sentiment of late:

"And I can see now, what I wonder I did not see at the time, that God was dealing very kindly and wisely with me when He made Martha overlook my good qualities, of which I suppose I have some, as everybody else has, and call out all my bad ones, since the ax was thus laid at the root of self-love. And it is plain that self-love cannot die without a fearful struggle"

But I am not too discouraged. For God has promised in 1 John 1:9 "If we confess our sins he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness." And not only does he promise to do all that for me, he has doubly blessed me by giving me this quiet, beautiful Saturday morning all to myself where I can sit on my porch and enjoy such simple pleasures as eating leftover spaghetti with a cherry coke zero for breakfast. :) I'm so glad that God is good.

Peace is coming...

homemade soups and backyard swings

2007-09-24T20:54:00.000-04:00

I love fall. Its the season of soup making. I read an article recently in Southern Living magazine about having a soup swapping party. The idea is to invite a few friends over and have each one bring a big pot of homemade soup. Then everyone gets to try the different soups, take home recipes, and leftovers from a variety of soups. That way you aren't eating the same soup for two weeks. Since my house is not yet fit to have parties, I decided I would just make soup for myself instead. Yesterday I made a big pot of one of my favorite soups: Two Bean Chicken Chili. Very Tasty. Here is the recipe:

black beans
pinto beans
corn
chicken
salsa
tomato sauce
chicken broth
garlic
chili powder
zucchini

Topped with: sour cream, cheddar cheese, and tortilla chips. YUM. :)

Sunday afternoons are great for cooking things like soup. Because while they are simmering, you have time to do other things. I went outside to one of my new favorite things. We have a backyard tree swing that a friend made for us. We have many old trees in the yard, including more than one Live Oak. This swing is made from a 2x10 board and two pieces of heavy duty rope and it hangs from a very high branch on the biggest oak tree. Its so high that the length of the ropes are really long, which means when you swing you can cover about half of the yard in one go. I felt like Amelie yesterday, just swinging long sweeps across the yard, looking up at the filtered light coming down through the trees, enjoying the simplicity of it all. The dogs sat on the ground nearby and their eyes rhythmically followed me - back and forth, back and forth.

There is so much I take for granted in life - like pots of soup and backyard swings. I want to be a more thankful person - more grateful, and more gracious. Even in the midst of all the things in my life that I am unsatisfied with, I am constantly reminded of this: God is good. He is all goodness.

(photo is of me on the swing at night)

An apple a day...

2007-09-21T14:08:00.000-04:00

After a brief hiatus from the blog world I am back, thankfully, due to Nelly's gracious prodding.

So much has been happening in my life since I last posted, I feel as though I have a wealth of material to write about, simply to update the blog readers (which, I think is only Nelly!) on my comings and goings. Perhaps I will have to blog more than once in a day! Ah, but this is very doubtful. So, I will give an overview of the latest news in bullets form:

I moved to a new old house in July/August. My parents bought a house and I get the great pleasure of renting from them. The goal, I believe, is to buy the house myself, someday. In the meantime, we are fixing it up. It is a great house with a fabulous yard, but it is requiring a lot of work. Needless to say, it hasn't yet become the restful homestead I'm hoping for. I'm still hopeful, but exhausted.

I have two new roommates. Their names are Mary and Lindsay. They have two dogs. So altogether we are 3 people and 3 dogs. The dogs are: Lindy (mel's border collie), Maya (mary's siberian huskey), and Jo (lindsay's black lab). All I need is three rings in the backyard and I'd be living at the circus.

(In this photo: roomie Lindsay and Mel with new haircut)

I got a fun haircut.

I've started a new eating regimen and have been losing weight. This makes me feel great. Its amazing what eating healthier will do for you, both inside and out. Pink Lady apples are probably my favorite food these days. I eat one almost every day. An apple a day keeps the doctor away! I've coined a new proverb about apples: An apple a day instead of cookies and chips makes your clothes fit better.

(photo by Barb Iverson)

I'm reading lots of new books. (I will blog about these in another post.)

I'm still single, and its OK.

So there you have it. The latest news. Life has been busy, but God is still good. That's one thing I know I can count on.

Character like coins...

2007-05-22T16:21:00.001-04:00

"But one day as I was passing into the field, this sentence fell upon my soul: "Thy righteousness is in heaven." And with the eyes of my soul I saw Jesus at the Father's right hand. 'There,' I said, 'is my righteousness!' So that wherever I was or whatever I was doing, God could not say to me, 'Where is your righteousness?' For it is always right before him. I saw that it is not my good frame of heart that made my righteousness better, nor yet my bad frame that made my righteousness worse, for my righteousness IS Christ. Now my chains fell off indeed. My temptations fled away, and I lived sweetly at peace with God. Now I could look from myself to him and could reckon that all my character was like the coins a rich man carries in his pocket when all his gold is safe in a trunk at home. Oh I saw that my gold was indeed in a trunk at home, in Christ my Lord. Now Christ was all: my righteousness, sanctification, redemption."

-John Bunyan

These thoughts from John Bunyan have penetrated my spirit. I was overwhelmed on Sunday by my self-righteous heart. We've been having difficulties with our landlord in the past couple of weeks. I found myself constantly getting riled up thinking of all the ways that I was right and she was wrong. I praised myself for having been such an excellent tenant and became angry with her for failing to recognize this truth and accusing me of the opposite. "How dare she question my character? My honesty? My integrity?", I shouted in my mind as I shook my fist in the air. Hmmm...I began to realize that I have not been the perfect tenant. I have not always done everything right. I have even tried to cover up my mistakes so that I would not have to admit them to myself or anyone. The situation with my landlord is not the only area of my life in which I have boasted my own righteousness.

And so John Bunyan's words penetrated through the mud of my self-righteous heart with the force of an opened fire hydrant of clean water. It helped me to understand that my good character is merely a handful of coins that I carry in my pocket. My righteousness is a treasure chest of gold stored at home in Christ - my righteousness IS Christ.

Chasing Water

2007-05-19T13:54:00.000-04:00

I was outside this morning planting flowers in my garden while Lindy, my puppy, played in the yard nearby. When I got out the hose to water my newly planted flowers Lindy stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes were fixed on the stream of water coming out of the hose. I stood still and watched her as she slowly crept closer to the end of the water stream. Just when she got right up to it I wiggled the hose and got her nose wet. She jumped back and then ran towards the stream! I moved the hose around and she began to chase the water back and forth around the yard with very ferocious puppy attempts to bite the water. But, to her dismay, and my amusement she only got wet! :)

It made me realize that there are so many simple things in life that are worth giving my time and attention to, that I usually just overlook. And, its the simple things that end up bringing me the most joy in the end. I have a thing or two to learn from Lindy - today I learned that chasing water is great fun! I think I'll go back outside and try it myself!

Chasing Time

2007-05-18T16:42:00.000-04:00

I feel like I am in a race against time, and every time I get close to taking the lead, time speeds up and blazes ahead of me out of sight. Or do I just happen to trip on my shoelaces at the most inopportune moment, slowing me down so much that it seems that I'll never catch up again? I'm not sure which is more accurate. Maybe its both.

There is so much that I have to do and even more still that I want to do. Sometimes I accomplish all that must be done, even if it is at the last minute. But rarely do I accomplish all of that and then some of the things I actually long to do. I struggle to find the time to get all of my work done by set deadlines at the firm, finish my schoolwork on time, keep up my house, take care of my dog, and honor the time I have committed to others.

For example this past week at work I have had the craziest jobs to finish on ridiculously short notice. I don't think I sat down once at work from Monday morning until Wednesday afternoon! I usually like to be ahead on my schoolwork, but lately I've been staying up late and turning my assignments in one minute before the deadline. I hate that I can't spend as much time with my puppy as I would like and as much as she needs. Minimal time is all I can offer right now, and I feel like it still isn't enough. There is so much to do around my house and in my yard - so many unfinished projects. I haven't done laundry in two weeks and the dishes are piling up! I hate that I live in a constant time crunch and something always gets sacrificed. It is usually my rest. Why is it so hard to rest?

Last Friday I went to Charleston for a Lindy Exchange (that's a swing dance weekend for all you non-dancers). I was excited but I was also dreading it because I was leaving so much undone at home. However, to my surprise it was the best thing I could have possibly done. I had forgotten how much I needed to sleep in, get good exercise, and be social. We stayed at a friend's beach house which was just the icing on the cake. I got up both mornings I was there and went swimming in the ocean. I danced in outdoor pavilions and to live bands. It was so freeing not to have time restraints tied to my ankles, weighing me down. I thought the weekend would make me more stressed, but it did the opposite. I am once again convinced that rest is not a option. It is a necessity. When I returned home I was ready to take on another week, and though it has been full speed and frenzied, I've made it through much better than I expected.

Now its Friday again. I am not making any plans. I am looking forward to staying home, doing laundry, planting flowers and making my home beautiful, playing with my puppy and loving on her, sleeping in, reading a magazine, and being with my church family on Sunday. There's a lot to do this weekend - but I am determined to rest through it all. Though time may get a big lead on me, I will continue to run with endurance. And it will be OK if I don't catch up overnight.

Mother of Lindy

2007-05-09T17:14:00.000-04:00

I received a phone call on Monday afternoon that brought great joy and change into my life all at once. My old college roommate, Mary, was calling to tell me she had found me a puppy! For years I have longed to have a Border Collie, but I have never been in a position to actually adopt one. Either I didn't have enough money, or enough space, or enough time. Its interesting how God works all things together for good. I wasn't expecting the puppy to come this week, but she came. I wasn't expecting the money to be available this week, but my tax return came and it was surprisingly larger than I was expecting. It was the perfect amount I needed to bring home a puppy. My landlord and my roommate were supportive, and my new job now enables me to have a schedule that is conducive to raising a puppy!

So she arrived late on Monday night, and I am the proudest puppy mama in the world! She is even more beautiful than I ever imagined, and I am surprised at how much I love her more each day. She is super smart too! Only 10 weeks old and she learned to SIT and play frisbee in just one day! Although she is a bundle of love and fun, she is also a bundle of work! I feel as though this is perfect preparation for me before I have kids one day. She requires lots of attention, training, exercise, and love. I think she may even break me of my bad habit of sleeping in! I've been up two mornings before 6am and I have been exhausted with pouring into my little baby girl. I am really starting to feel it now. But, I know it will be worth it. Just like children, though it is difficult sometimes to invest so much time and energy, the return is too great to measure. I hope that I will be a puppy mother and that God will use this as one way to prepare me for true motherhood. I long for motherhood more and more these days it seems. Does that mean I'm getting old? :)

I named my puppy Lindy, after my favorite swing dance, the Lindy Hop. The name is fitting, for she loves to hop around in the yard and is full of life and excitement! Perhaps one day I will teach her to dance!

I love God's surprises - they are always better than anything I could ever have expected...

david gray and a cup of tea

2007-05-04T23:31:00.000-04:00

Today has been one of those days that seem so long its hard to remember when it began. Nothing particularly eventful happened. I got up this morning and went to work. Then I followed my usual Friday evening routine of meeting up with a few dear friends for pizza and pints after work. But although it seemed a bit mundane on the one hand, on the other I felt a certain level of peace today that I haven't known for quite some time. It has got me to thinking: maybe its ok that I am not always excited, chasing the big dream, or living on the edge. Maybe its ok that I haven't "arrived" at some imaginary place where all my life's ambitions are playing out.

Today I have felt more than content. Today I have felt satisfied; Free; At rest. I came home tonight and my roommate put on one of our favorite albums : David Gray's "Lost Songs." She made me a cup of tea before heading off to bed. My mentor Karen is always saying to me, "Mel, Jesus really is enough for you. He is more than enough." I think I'm finally beginning to experience what that really means. It's ok that I am single. It's ok that I am not rich. It's ok that I'm no longer in Germany and it's ok that I miss it. Because He is more than enough. He is enough, and still He gives me wonderful things like the sound of David Gray picking the guitar and a warm cup of tea.

"I will run in the path of your commands, for you have set my heart free." Psalm 119:32

(Photo of painting by Janina Tukarski Ellis) - http://www.janinaellis.com/

Army of Pink Shirts...

2005-05-23T17:00:00.000-04:00

Well, I'm going to try to be faithful to yet another new blog. For some reason I haven't been able to keep these things up, but I so enjoy reading everyone else's that I can't help but continue to start over on my own.

i finally got around to one of the more mundane tasks that i should have done weeks ago. Organizing my clothes. Go ahead, laugh... yes i know, only MEL could spend a good portion of the afternoon organizing clothes because I have enough to clothe a small african villiage i'm sure. None the less, they were starting to creep out of the closet, the dresser, and the storage boxes into my bedroom/kitchen/livingroom (which is really all one room) and i was beginning to feel a bit clostrophobic. The difficulty with actually going through the process of organizing your clothes is that it requires a major seasonal committment. Now, when you live in a country like Germany, as I do, you never can tell what season it actually is. For example, Friday was quite chilly and cloudy and windy. I wore jeans and a sweatshirt. Saturday was sunny, warm and beautiful. I wore a tank top and a skirt and felt like laying out for a bit. But then Sunday it rained and hailed and thundered and it's gotten chilly again. Tomorrow its supposed to be sunny. I can't decide if its summer or winter!!

Either way I had to do it. So i opted for summer, in hopes that the weather will change in my favor. Once I got into the organizing groove, I started trying everything on, and to my surprise actually fit into some old cute clothes that I thought I'd grown out of. go me. :) then just to spice it up a bit, i decided to categorize them in my closet and I even ended up color coding them! It looks like a rainbow threw up in my closet, but I like it! I think I'll call it: Rainbow Row. It has a nice mel-ish ring to it I think. At least now I don't have to share my room with the army of pink shirts that was beginning to invade...
good night

The Itch

2005-05-23T16:50:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I wonder when the itch began. It might have begun the first time my Uncle sent me a chocolate egg from a faraway place for my birthday. I can still remember how exciting it was each year to get another package from across the sea. I would curiously open the tiny treasures wrapped up inside a brown cardboard box, hoping that it would be a chocolate Kinder-egg from Germany! The outside of the egg was made of milk chocolate and the inside of the egg was made of white chocolate. And if you opened it just right it would split down the middle in a perfect line to reveal the secret prize hidden inside the hollow center of the egg. Sometimes it would be an action figure of one sort or another, other times it would be a car or a train. But my favorites were the puzzles. A puzzle prize meant that you didn’t just get one thing out of your egg, but many! The fun never seemed to end as I would meticulously attempt to assemble all the tiny pieces into some new unique gadget. I suppose my little collection of Kinder-egg toys began to form a connection to the outside world in my mind; the world of the unknown, the adventurous, and exciting.

It is possible though, that the itch began much earlier. I can remember flipping through the dusty pages of old National Geographic magazines in our garage as a child. I used to tear out the fold-up posters of jungles, or cities, or wild animals and pin them on the walls in my room. By the time I was in 6th grade there was hardly any space to fit the new posters of Luke Perry or Jonathan Brandis on my wall!

But if that didn’t start the itch, it certainly set in when my Mom and Dad flew away on a trip to Europe to visit my Uncle. I still remember that day at the airport. I was eleven years old and I was being sent to spend 3 weeks of my summer in Aiken with my grandparents, and heaven forbid, with my little sister! Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely loved those summer weeks when I got to be at Grandmamma and Granddaddy’s house. Those weeks would be full of digging in the garden with Granddaddy, catching lightning bugs in a jar at night, making my Grandmother’s coffee in the morning, watching nickelodeon in the afternoon while snapping a big pan of green beans on the couch, or picking purple Four O’clock’s and stringing them on a piece of straw from the broomstick to make a necklace. Those hot summer days at Grandmama’s house will always have a special and sacred place in my memory. But I can still remember that day in the airport, watching my parents’ plane speed down the runway, lift into the air and grow smaller and smaller as it flew further and further away. I can still remember the overwhelming agony of knowing that I was going to be missing the summer of a lifetime; a summer of travel and adventure.

Perhaps moments like these were the small stepping stones that led me here. Some days I still wake up and pinch myself because it seems so unreal that I live in Europe. No adventure is too outlandish for my thinking anymore it seems. Want to drive to Italy? No problem! How about a week in Portugal? Stop over in Spain? I’ve now got friends in India, Australia, South Africa and Brazil, just to name a few. It’s incredible really, when you think about it. Who would have thought that a simple girl from a small town in South Carolina would end up where I am?

And yet, there are days, like today, when I can’t help but wonder why I find myself longing for a place that I spent so many years yearning to leave. Not too long ago I felt as though I had found a new home here in Europe; a community, a family, a new way of life. I felt as though it really fit. Now, I’ve come to another crossroad in my life, a crossroad where I have to decide which direction to go next. I suppose it is this very thing that has caused me to reflect on the life journey that has brought me here thus far. So I bought a ticket. A ticket that will fly me far, far away to a place my heart knows as home. I can already smell the thick fragrance of Tea Olive flowers wafting through the hot sticky air of South Carolina…and I’m itching for a new adventure! Sometimes I think I was born with the itch.