Lessons

Throughout 2010 I've kept a bullet pointed list of things God has taught me (or is at least trying to teach me) this year. As tomorrow I plan to post my 2011 resolutions, I'm posting my list of 2010 lessons tonight.

• To simplify and be a good steward of what he’s given me. I've always been anal but this year I started getting more intentional about keeping the house clean. I started out 2010 by de-cluttering the house, and I've kept it void of clutter all year. I also started doing a "deep clean" of one room a week, so that throughout the course of the month the whole house gets deep cleaned. This helps keep the fridge clean (scrubbed out), closets organized, and clutter from forming.
  
• To slow down. I blogged about this a while back, one day when I stopped to take a deep breath and enjoy a beautiful day. And I realized that was something I need to do a lot more.
• To BE PRESENT. This is something I wrote in the front of my planner at the beginning of 2010. It struck me during a church service (I believe wholly unrelated to the sermon) and it became my motto for the year. I do so much where I'm doing one thing, but thinking of 50 million other things. I think this is common, especially among women. But I really made an effort this year to be present. If I'm talking to someone, to be fully engaged, not planning my evening to-do list. I've got work to do, but I've definitely come a long way.
  
• To see the best in everything and not complain about what I can’t change. This falls into the category of "God is trying to teach me." It's definitely a work in progress. But I've noticed over the past couple years that I've started complaining a lot more and developing a more cynical spirit. I'd like to see the best and when I see a problem, take on the attitude that I can either do something to try to fix it, or accept it. Nothing else is helpful.
  
• Patience. OK, so I wrote this on the list and I have no context for why. Probably falls into the "God is trying to teach me" category...
  
• Courage/Adventure. I've never been an adventurer, but Ali Fedotowsky taught me something. And there was the life-transforming team retreat I went on for work. And that's not all. I ventured a try at public speaking back in April, and it went really well! I started trying to say yes to more things if they were opportunities to grow...even if they were scary. (Pre-Blogger blog about that here: http://www.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=313730596332)
  
• Not to gossip. I've been convicted by this in the later part of this year. I gossip. It needs to stop.
  
• Better relationship with Dad. December 1 was a huge wake-up call. My dad almost died. And basically all of my blogs from December focus on that journey. But the one thing that I'm definitely taking away is to value my Dad more. Even though I live far away, I want to spend more time with him via Skype or phone. I don't give him nearly the time I should.
  

Life

As I sat in the waiting room over the past couple of weeks, a lot of people came to visit us and bring us food. And each of them had stories to tell of how my Dad had touched their lives. He's made a huge impact. And obviously, God isn't done with him.

Even though he feels a little down right now, stuck in the ICU with limited physical ability, he's making a difference. Even when he was in an induced coma, he was touching lives. You see, my Dad loves music. So we brought in a CD player and were playing some Christian music for him while he slept.

And one of his nurses came in after he'd woken up and said after taking care of him, she'd had one of those songs stuck in her head all weekend. And she decided to start listening to Christian music - and it wasn't so bad. She's going to keep listening. Who knows, maybe one of those lyrics will strike a chord in her heart someday, and she'll decide she needs Jesus.

You don't have to be concious to touch lives. And it's so fitting that even when he wasn't awake, my Dad was able to use music to reach out to someone.

Leaving

I'm sitting at Logan International Airport, waiting for my 6:15 flight back to Denver. And as I sit I feel emotionally torn. On the one hand, I'm excited to go back home; to wear something other than the 5 outfits I brought for what ended up being a 12 day trip (don't worry, I did laundry); to see my husband and my puppies; to go back to work.

On the other hand, I'm already struggling with the fact that I had to leave my Dad. I've changed my flight three times after the original booking, originally planning to fly home last Monday, then last Tuesday, then Sunday, and finally today. And each time a flight approached, I felt like I needed more time. I needed to be there when Dad woke up. And then I needed to be there to help take care of him.

And that feeling was no different today. But I'd talked to a Southwest manager to negotiate a better rate for today's flight, and I have something I need to be at work for tomorrow, and I knew I couldn't stay forever. There'd always be a reason I felt like I needed to stay...even when Dad is released he's going to need a lot of care. So I knew it was time to go home, even if it was hard to leave my Dad.

I tried to be strong when I said goodbye to my Dad. He's already feeling really emotional, I didn't want to add to it. I managed to hold back the tears just long enough, and then when I turned around they started falling. And even as I checked in at the airport and went through security, I couldn't hold in my tears. I love living in Colorado, but it's so hard to be so far away from family at times like this.

Now that my Dad's awake, I'm hoping I can Skype with him. He'll probably be hard to understand but maybe if someone is there to translate that will help. And in the mean time, I'm so glad I got to come out and spend time with him. I'll always treasure the time I got to spend helping him and sitting by him over the last week and a half.

Dad

I sent this out to my co-workers, and I thought it would be a good blog about Dad's recent progress. This way you can laugh at all the funny things he's been saying.

Dad got the ventilator tubes out on Friday, which was huge. "Those were the whole problem!" Dad said. He couldn't talk much that day until the evening, but since then he's been making jokes and cracking us up. He's usually a jokester but he's pretty uninhibited right now so it's especially funny. Today when the nurses told him he looked good he said, "You need to work on your taste if you think I look good!" He's also been asking for a body transplant. Preferably Matt Damon. "That guy can do anything!"

He was pretty paranoid about the hospital staff (AKA the "manhandlers" or the "barbarians") for a bit. He said they kick us out so they can beat him up without any witnesses. "I could go to Boston and get treated like this for free!" He's in need of pretty constant care and since they can't be in his room all the time, he doesn't think they're taking good care of him. "They just think I'm a pain in the neck."

Today's nurse (a man) gave him several popsicles, which was exciting. He's not ready to eat real food until they make sure he can swallow. But he's been asking for pizza, scrambled eggs, and Sierra Mist pretty regularly since Friday, and said, "I wouldn't recommend this place to anyone requiring a meal." Today a nurse walked right past his room with pizza. I was hoping he wouldn't notice but she stopped at the counter right in front of his door. He goes, "Man, that looks good. When are they going to bring me some?!" And when his nurse said he was going to lunch, Dad responded, "Well don't rub it in!" And you sure don't realize how many food commercials there are until you're trying to avoid anything that would remind your Dad how hungry he is.

I stayed here overnight on Saturday night, so I was in and out of his room and only got 1-2 hours of sleep at a time, for 4-5 periods of sleep. Not a great rest. But last night he was calling out for me, and I felt bad I wasn't there. He said today, "I'm sure going to miss you when you leave. You're my best caretaker!"

I'm flying home on Tuesday evening now, so I'll be back on Wednesday. I had to call Southwest and negotiate because it was going to be $250 more for a ticket then. They gave me a good deal. My dad, the master negotiator, was so delighted when he heard that. Really made him proud.

When I was a kid (well, pre-teenish), I used to draw this cartoon dog, Sparky. One of the first things Dad said to me Friday night was, "I want you to promise me that you'll draw a dog." I was pretty confused and I was reminding him I have two dogs. He shook his head. Then I was like, "OH! Do you mean Sparky?" He nodded so vigorously and his eyes lit up. "Yeah! THAT dog!" So I started to get out a pen and paper and he said, "No, for publication. But remember me when you're famous." If I am ever famous, I highly doubt it will be for my art skills.

At the beginning we were worried about brain damage from the tear on the artery going to his brain. But he's showing no signs of brain damage at all. He's remembering current things (like what the special event for Sunday was at his church), and lots of memories from when we were kids. He can't talk very loudly because his throat is sore from the ventilator, but other than that he talks fine. And he can move a little bit more each day so we're not worried about paralysis. He's even solving Sudokus! (But we have to write the numbers in, he doesn't have the dexterity yet to hold a pen.)

The "swallow and spit" doctor is coming in today to check how he's doing with those skills. If that goes well maybe he can get some soup or Jello or something. They've been giving him something that looks like chocolate milk through a feeding tube. "This is the slowest chocolate milk I've ever had!" He kept calling it chocolate milk, so we started calling it that. But now when we say it he shakes his head and goes, "That stuff's terrible! Turns out it's not chocolate milk at all! I wouldn't buy THAT unless you have to."

So prayers would be for things to go well with the swallow & spit doctor so he can get some real food, for him to keep gaining strength so he can go to a normal room and walk to the bathroom, for him to sleep well at night so he doesn't miss us, and for him to be OK when I leave.

Crying

Tonight when we went to leave a goodnight note for my sleeping dad, there was a girl sobbing outside of the surgical ICU. She was on the phone with someone saying, "It's my mom! There's nothing they can do! My mom!"

I walked away from that crying. And then laughing at myself for crying about someone I didn't even know. It was this weird combo of cracking up laughing and sad crying. Because it just brought to mind how close I came to that being me and my dad. It's the first time I've seen bad news delivered in the 10 days I've been at the hospital, and it made me realize once again how close I came to losing my Dad.

He says things like "I should have just stayed home that day" (he would have died, rather than having someone at work call 911 like they did). He's uncomfortable and this hospital thing seems so long to him. I get that. But I'm so grateful that he went to work, that God had his hand on him, that I'm able to talk and joke and hear his voice.

Thank you, God, for keeping my Dad alive.

My Real Dad

When I was in 7th or 8th grade, my parents and I went to my sister's cross country meet. Since there wasn't much to watch (they were running through the woods), my parents and I went on a walk through the woods. And during our walk, I had the idea to give them each a unique stone so that if anyone tried to impersonate them and I wasn't sure if it was my real mom or dad, it wouldn't work. Only my real mom and dad would know to show me their stone as evidence of their identity.

Just before my wedding, Dad pulled out that same stone, over 10 years later. He had it in his tux pocket and showed it to me, saying, "This is how you know it's your real dad walking you down the aisle." I got all teary (and I'd just done my make-up!), and it was a really sweet moment.

A few hours ago when I went in to see Dad, he said, "My stone is in my pocket. My stone. So you know I'm your real dad." And then he started tearing up some. Seeing as he's in a hospital gown and doesn't have pockets, and couldn't show me the stone, I told him I knew he was my real Dad because he was telling all my Dad's jokes.

And boy am I glad to have my real Dad around.

Waiting

The idea of a "waiting room" is a difficult thing for me. It's hard because every night before I leave, I pray for specific things for my dad. Like on Monday night I prayed that he could get off the ventilator quickly and safely. And last night I prayed that Dad would have a peaceful and restful night.

But Tuesday when I came in he was doing worse on the ventilator, and today I found out that he got really agitated during the night. It's hard when you see those prayers not being answered. But the important thing is that God has been answering the BIG prayer so far: that Dad would survive the surgery and would recover and live a long time more. And ultimately, a few more days on the ventilator or a rough night seems hard at the time but it's not the end of the world. As long as Dad gets better, I'm happy with that. I need to be OK with waiting for him to keep making steps.

The other thing is that I don't like to sit by idly when there's a problem. I like to do things. When I went in to see Dad this morning I changed his CD, and got out the chair, and checked all his numbers, and felt like I was doing something. Or when I went to his trailer, I vacuumed and folded his pajamas and did the dishes. But then just sitting there...realizing that there's nothing I can do...that's hard.

Not that changing his CD or vacuuming his rug is really going to help him get better. But at least I feel like I'm doing something for him, to take care of him. Sitting here in the waiting room or even with him holding his hand, I feel so helpless.

But ultimately I need to remember that holding his hand is doing something important, and being here and being available is important too. It's like the woman who came to visit me here last night (when no one in my family was here). What I needed was for her to be here so I could get up to go see my Dad or go to the bathroom or whatever, without my stuff being unattended. And I needed to get some work done. (And I needed dinner and a donut. Like, really needed a donut.)

And while it may have felt to her like she was just sitting there doing nothing (until she helped with the dinner and donut problem), she was the most helpful visitor of all. She gave me the freedom to be on my computer and not have to feel the obligation to entertain a guest while in the midst of this crisis. Some people need to talk it out...I need to not feel like I have to get to know new people right now. Extroversion for me takes effort and work, and I already feel so drained.

So maybe like her, the best thing I can do is just sit and be here. Even if it feels like I'm not doing anything.

Hard

Yesterday was a really hard day for me. It felt like Dad was making backwards progress...he'd been getting less support from the ventilator over the weekend, and they upped it again yesterday. They'd woken him up some on Sunday, and they were increasing his sedatives yesterday. I started to get scared that he wasn't going to get better.

And then last night I stayed at his trailer instead of at my sister's house, where I'd been so far. It was nice to be on a bed instead of a couch, and nice not to wake up to a three-year old telling me I needed to get up at 6:30 (though he sure is fun to play with)...but it was REALLY hard for me to be in my dad's home, sleeping in his bed. It made it all seem so final to me. Like here I was, taking his place.

Tonight I'm back at my sister's, after a day where Dad made some progress in the right direction again. It's not much, but the hospital staff doesn't seem concerned at the slow progress. It was a major surgery...today they made a bypass sound like minor surgery compared with what my Dad had. So I guess when I look at it that way, he's doing pretty well.

Tomorrow I'm probably going to be sleeping at the trailer again, so we'll see how that goes. Please keep praying for my dad, but pray for me too, that I'll have peace if I sleep at the trailer again.

Surreal

If you haven't been following my status updates, on Wednesday my Dad went to the hospital with chest pains. Within a few hours, they were rushing him in for emergency heart surgery after discovering he had a dissected aorta. And my family, including my Dad, is all out in the Boston area. There I was in Denver, worrying and not knowing what to do.

The days since then have been a whirlwind and at the same time it's felt like it's been so much longer than 3 days. On Thursday I made the decision to fly to Boston and visit with my dad (flew out Friday). I realized that if I didn't come and this ended up being my last chance to see him, I'd always regret that. But if I came and all was well, I'd never regret having come anyway and being with my dad during this time.

I had no idea what it would be like when I saw my dad lying in the hospital bed. I'd been pre-warned that he was kind of puffy-looking from the surgery, and that he was hooked up to all sorts of stuff, but actually seeing him made everything real. I'd wondered if I'd just burst into tears when I saw him, but I didn't. It just finally hit me like a wave. That was really my dad lying there. I've never been to visit someone in the hospital, except when they've just had a baby. So the idea that I had really dropped everything to fly across the country and see my dad in the ICU hadn't really struck me fully until that moment.

I have a whole mix of emotions right now. Sometimes I find myself tearing up at how close we came to losing him. And at the risks that still loom. I talked to him on the phone just Monday and I cut the conversation short because I really had to use the bathroom. I've thought about that as I sat with him, thinking how much I would have always regretted that if he hadn't made it.

But I'm also so thankful. So many things were just great evidence of God's hand of blessing over my dad. A dissected aorta is often not caught in time - my sister said one of the doctor's told my family it's usually found in autopsy. I'm so thankful for everything God worked together to make sure my dad got to the hospital, that the right tests were run, that the doctor's had wisdom, and that a skilled surgeon performed the very difficult surgery on him.

There are still risks. He's still mostly sedated, though he periodically opens his eyes now as they're lessening the sedation. They're going to keep him like that until they're confident he's doing well enough to be awake, so hopefully he'll continue to recover well. The next month or two will be a long recovery period for him. But each day that he makes it, the risks decrease. So each day I feel a little better. Today it was really neat to have him look at me, even though he was super groggy and I don't know how much he's processing.

And there are still parts of this that feel so surreal. I don't see my family very much, just once every two years, so I'm used to not hanging out with my dad. Part of me still feels like I'm just not really here, and so it's not unusual to not be interacting in a lively way with him.

I've never been on the receiving end of people making meals, so that's weird for me. It's kind of uncomfortable, since I'm so picky, but there's a cafeteria at the hospital so I always have a back-up option. And I appreciate the outpouring of love and generosity from my dad's church family. Everyone who comes in talks about how special he is, and tells a story about how he touched their lives. It's neat to hear what an impact my dad has made.

I'm a plan-ahead type of person, so this is kind of weird for me. Flying out here, I at least had an 18 or-so hour window to plan, make sure I had everything, tie up loose ends at home, etc. But flying back...well I don't know when I'll fly back. I had a ticket booked for Monday and have changed it to Tuesday, but I may extend if further, depending on how my dad is doing. I feel bad leaving work right in the thick of things, but the hospital has WiFi and I brought some work with me, so I'm using the down time in the waiting room to keep caught up. It's just weird to be away from home and not know when I'm going back.

I'm so thankful to everyone who has been praying for my dad. God has been listening, so keep praying!

Selective

A friend sent me this article today: http://www.foxnews.com/health/2010/11/29/adult-picky-eaters-recognized-having-disorder/

Never have I felt more understood than when I read this article. It described me almost perfectly. I have often avoided social situations that involve eating or drinking because I am embarrassed about being a picky eater. I've been told it's "childish" and have been made to feel like I'm being immature or bratty because of my selective tastes.

Consequently, I have faked a stomach ache when I'm desperately hungry to avoid acknowledging that I don't like anything that's being offered. I've lied about having eaten recently to avoid eating something else. And I even once snuck off from a work event and walked 6 blocks through Denver to McDonalds after picking away at some Chinese food our team had for lunch and trying to make my plate look as though I'd eaten something.

I like foods that are bland and usually processed, as this article describes. I love things that are salty, especially french fries. I've often thought that "more adventurous foods look like a plate of barf."

And I would definitely change this about myself above anything else. It has been such an embarrassing and limiting factor for as long as I can remember. I hate feeling like I'm offending a host if I don't like anything they offer, so I avoid going to people's houses for dinner unless they are briefed beforehand of my eating limitations. Even as a kid I preferred people sleepover my house than that I go to theirs, so that I wouldn't be faced with a dinner I couldn't eat. I hate feeling like people have to make special accommodations for me, even if they do it graciously and show amazing understanding.

As far as childhood associations with food, I was always a tremendously slow eater. Often because there was something on the plate I couldn't stomach the thought of eating, but I had to sit at the table until I ate it or until bedtime. So I'd hold out for bedtime. Sometimes I'd chew one bit of food for twenty minutes because my stomach was screaming at me not to swallow it.

Please read this article and know that my food limitations are not because I'm being stubborn or immature. I just don't experience food the same way you do...often just the thought of eating something unpalatable to me triggers my gag reflex. Know that if I turn down something you've worked hard to bake or cook, it's not because I don't respect or appreciate your efforts. Know that I would absolutely change this about me in a heartbeat.

Mommy

I've always loved kids. But even as a teenager, I went back and forth between considering some day having my own. I really enjoy spending an hour or two with kids as a Sunday School teacher or volunteer, but I like the lack of life-commitment that offers. I can choose the age level I want - one without diapers involved. They can't mess up my house from church. They don't cost anything. I don't have to rearrange my whole life to accommodate a child or commit to the rest of my life as a parent. That's a big commitment, and not one I'm sure I want.

But it's hard for me. Dan wants kids someday; I don't really. When we were dating, we were on the same page: we agreed on two kids. But since we've gotten married I've found a job I absolutely love; I've started writing a book; I've developed a greater need for sleep; and I've grown marvelously accustomed to a schedule of relaxation after work. I know that with children I couldn't get my 9+ hours of sleep a night, period. Working full time would be possible, but difficult. Writing a book on top of a full time job would be next to impossible. And relaxation would be 90% thrown out the window.

I'm in a stage of life now where many of my friends are parents or soon-to-be-parents. Four women in my small group are currently pregnant. Four. It's an isolating thing not to want a child in this stage of life. And yet as much as these women rave about how "worth it" it is to have a baby, I see the Facebook posts about the messes their kids make; or how the kids woke her up at 5 am; or getting up in the middle of the night to change bloody nose soaked sheets...and it just makes me shrivel up a little to imagine a life like that.

I find it immensely annoying when people tell me that I need to have a baby. Parenting isn't for everyone. Some of my friends dreamed of being stay-at-home moms, and now they are, and that's wonderful. I love seeing dreams come true. My dream was to be a writer and to develop curriculum. And my dream has come true. I hardly see how I need to add an element to my life that will hinder that dream, particularly when puppies are (in my opinion) so much cuter, and 100x easier to take care of.

When God told us to populate the earth, there were 2 people. Adam and Eve were definitely called to have kids. But now there's almost 7 billion people in the world. We've populated well. So I don't think having children is any longer a mandate for everyone. And I can't turn on the "Mommy Gene." I can't make myself want to have a baby. I just don't want one. No amount of people telling me all about how their child is worth it despite the projectile vomit will change that.

Turkey Day

Growing up, I hated Thanksgiving. I didn't like any of the traditional food associated with the holiday, and while I would have been perfectly content to enjoy my Chef Boyardee Ravioli instead, I was always teased for this choice. For me, the holiday was a holiday all about a food I didn't like, and thus a holiday about mockery. No giving of thanks involved.

Then a few years ago, I decided I could tolerate turkey OK. And then three Thanksgivings ago, I had my first Thanksgiving with my mom's cousin-in-law, Jean. She makes such a moist and delicious turkey that I actually started liking turkey. Like, desiring it.

Nonetheless, having spent the majority of my life being mocked for my distaste of Thanksgiving foods, I still find it a sad thing when the holiday is all about food and not about giving thanks. And this year I've noticed more and more people calling it "Turkey Day." This frustrates me immensely; it's an acknowledgment that we're not giving thanks, we're just gorging ourselves on turkey.

America is a culture of selfish, greedy people. Myself included. We desperately need a reminder to give thanks for all that we've been blessed with. But instead, we've made Thanksgiving into a day of overeating and more greed and excess. It really bothers me.

Here are some things I'm thankful for: Dan, my puppies, our home, my car, my job, our couch, cookies, family, Colorado weather, new sweaters, and my VCR.

...But

Today was a long day of travel. I left the house we were staying at in Ohio at 7:45 (Eastern time) and didn't get to my house until 6:10 (Mountain time). That's over twelve hours of driving, waiting, flying, and mostly waiting.

...BUT I'm thankful that we have airplanes - that trip would have taken a lot longer in a car, train, or back in the ol' horse & buggy days.

The ticketing lady was a big jerk who talked really fast and mumbly and then made me feel stupid for not knowing what she said.

...BUT I'm thankful there was no line and I had no problems with my reservation.

I hadn't realized when I planned the trip that a 1 stop, no plane change flight meant I couldn't get lunch during the layover.

...BUT I'm thankful that Dan had bought me a bag of Cheez-its.

The second leg of the flight sat on the runway in Midway for almost two hours, as they were trying to get bags on and a lot of delays and redirected flights meant 11 extra planes for the bag people to deal with.

...BUT I'm thankful we made it to Midway at all. The captain said a lot of planes headed there were redirected, but they let us land.

There were about 8 babies/toddlers on board the second leg of the flight, and they seemed to have a schedule going so they'd all poop in their diapers just when the smell of the last one wore away. One of them cried the entire flight - including the time we sat on the runway - for a total of 5 hours.

...BUT I'm thankful none of the poopy babies nor the crying one were sitting too close to me.

Our plane had to circle Denver airport for about 20-30 minutes because they couldn't get the flaps up that slow down the plane on the runway.

...BUT I'm thankful the emergency flaps gave us a safe (albeit slightly fast) landing, and that the emergency personnel were prepared to help us.

The luggage took an hour to come out of the baggage claim.

...BUT I'm thankful my bag didn't get lost.

There were a ton of cars on the highway driving back.

...BUT I'm thankful that in Colorado, heavy traffic (unless there's an accident or snow) means we're going 70.

...And I'm so thankful to have my puppies back!

Friend

Last Thursday I visited a preschool class. I really love preschoolers and kindergartners. They're still so innocent and trusting, so willing to be friends with anyone, unmarred by rejection and distrust.

I sat down at a table with some kids linking chain links together, and they launched into conversation with me. They were building a "550 foot" chain, they said. (It was probably about 8 feet.) And one of the boy's boots were from Kohls. So were mine! He was excited about that connection. They introduced themselves to me by name, and I told them mine.

And throughout the next few hours, I made friends with almost every child in that class. Not because of my own efforts, but because they readily included me in their play and talked to me about favorite colors, their parents, their grandparents, the movies they'd watched recently (which, as it turns out, were some of the same ones I'd watched...I have a lot in common with preschoolers).They say social skills develop and progress as you get older, but I wonder if that's true. Because those preschoolers sure seemed to do a lot more socializing than most adults I know.

If it was that easy to make friends in the adult world, I'd have a lot more friends.

Jewelry

I'm always baffled when TV shows and movies have guys trying to buy a girl's forgiveness or love with expensive jewelry. Or when jewelry commercials make it seem normal to drop $500 on a necklace for Valentine's Day...for your MOM.

Personally, I have no desire for fancy jewelry. Even if we were millionaires, I would find it a frivolous waste of money for Dan to spend more than $20 on a piece of jewelry for me, and even that price seems expensive. Especially because the more fancy it is the less often you can wear it. A nice $12, wear-to-work necklace from Kohls, great. Match pair of earrings for another $10, sure. That's practical, nice for daily use. Even cubic zirconium jewelry that looks fancy but costs little for those fancy nights out, great!

I just don't think I could live with myself knowing there are starving children in Africa and I have a $1,000 necklace that I wear once a year.

Listen

There was a period in high school where I didn't want to go to college. My career goal in life was to get married and be a good housewife; why spend time and money on a college degree if you don't need one? I was sick of being in school, and I really didn't want 4 more years of it.

But God had other plans for me. And as God often does, he spoke to me repeatedly until I got it. It started while I was watching Queen Latifah play "Celebrity Who Wants to Be A Millionaire?" When she won her check, which she was donating to a college scholarship fund of some sort, she held it up to the camera and said, "Go to college, kids!"

Well, there was a chord of conviction in my heart with that line. I knew my reasons to not go to college were lazy, not from God. But I'm a stubborn person, so I dismissed Queen Latifah's comment and went on with life. Then the next day on my mom's page a day calendar (which without me to flip it is now perpetually months behind the real date), there was a quote about seeking wisdom and knowledge. Again, I pushed it aside. Then I read a verse in Proverbs with a similar sentiment. Shove.

And then a few days later an envelope came in the mail from me. I was in about 10th grade at this point, and when I was in 5th grade I'd joined this group called the Crusades. Basically you pledged to abstain from drugs and alcohol through high school, and when it came time for college if you qualified for financial help, you were guaranteed to get it if you'd kept your pledge. I hadn't heard from them in years when they sent this envelope.

In the envelope was a magazine about colleges. And a letter was tucked inside the magazine explaining what it was about. One line jumped out at me and I could no longer ignore the chord of conviction resonating in my heart: "You are on your way to college with this magazine."

I never did hear from Crusades again, come to think of it. One randomly sent magazine amidst years of silence, timed just for the week when God was sending me all the other messages I tried so hard to ignore.

People often read the Old Testament and wonder why God doesn't speak to us today like he spoke to people back then. I think he still speaks just as clearly...we're just not very good listeners. But don't worry, he'll keep drilling his point until we finally pay attention.

Reusable

Yesterday I blogged about the power of negative words. And then today happened.

I was on my way to Walmart to go grocery shopping, and feeling on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I had a lot on my mind and just as much on my to do list, and it was all weighing heavily on me. I was feeling discouraged and stressed.

And so, as I drove, I deliberated about whether I really wanted to go to the effort of reaching in the back seat to get my reusable shopping bags. Yes, a very small thing to do. A silly thing to deliberate. But that's just how overwhelmed I was feeling. And the only reason I decided to make the effort was because it would be easier to carry the groceries into my house in the reusable bags.

I walked into Walmart, tucked the bags on the bottom of my cart, and pushed forward. And then one of the Walmart employees looked at me and said in a cheery voice, "Good job remembering your bags!"

Obviously she had know way of knowing the silly deliberation I'd just gone through in the car. Obviously she had no idea how much weight her words would carry. But they lifted my spirits. I wasn't a total failure. I may be behind on my to-do list, but darn it, I remembered my bags. And that was appreciated. I could do something right.

Little

In 2nd grade I had a giant crack down the middle of my desk. It was awkward because neither side of the crack was wide enough for a whole piece of paper. And so the crack often made my handwriting look really messy. And I'll be honest - I didn't exactly excel in handwriting anyway. I liked to write quickly (still do), and that doesn't always go well with writing neatly.

But one time we were writing a list of words for something. And I decided to take my time and go really slowly to write neatly. I remember the first word: little. I worked really hard and wrote it perfectly. You've never seen the word "little" written more precisely in your whole life.

My teacher was walking by, and she often encouraged me to work on my handwriting. So I motioned her over and pointed to the word. "Look how neat I wrote that!" I said.

"Look how small you wrote that," she replied with a frown as she walked away. And I had written some pretty small letters, it was true. But I felt so discouraged that I'd worked so hard and written so neatly, and all she could see was the negative. And really, I was showing the meaning of the word in how I wrote it!

Negative words carry a lot of weight. 18 years later I still think of that day when someone says they can't read my handwriting. I wonder if I'd have neater writing now if my teacher had said something more like, "Wow! That's so neat! See if you can write it like that but a little bit bigger." For most criticisms, there's usually an encouraging way to say them.

Gift

In the book Linchpin, there's a chapter about giving gifts. And real gift giving doesn't expect reciprocity. It's just something given freely.

Well, here in America we have a custom that drives me bonkers and in effort to be polite actually seems quite rude to me. When someone invites you to their house for dinner or a party or whatever, you are supposed to ask what you can bring. I don't mean a birthday present to a birthday party, I'm talking about bringing the bottle of wine, the salad, whatever. To me, it demeans the gift the host is offering.* It's rude, in my mind. It's like saying, "I don't think you can handle everything yourself, so I'm going to bring something." But in our culture, it's rude NOT to offer it. Lame.

We had guests over last night and they didn't offer to bring anything. I was so glad! People who didn't bow to the pressure of society that they must bring a gift to compensate us for our gift of having them over! The husband briefly apologized for not offering to bring anything and I told him that was fine, that I don't like when people offer to bring things anyway.

So know this: if I ever invite you to my house, do not offer to bring anything. The only things that can be brought are things we could use that night that you would take back with you, like board games. And if you ever invite me to your house, know that I probably won't offer to bring anything. Not out of rudeness, but out of respect for the gift you are offering in inviting me over.

*This blog does not apply, of course, to parties that are explicitly advertised as BYO whatever.

Abortion

I believe that abortion is wrong in basically any case. It's taking a life. Adoption is always an option, so the only time I would bend is if the life of both the baby and mother are endangered by the pregnancy.

That being said, there have been a few ballots now with the same proposed amendment to redefine "person" from the moment of conception. And of course I vote yes, but I don't believe it will ever pass. It's too broad, and it scares people. It scares them into thinking common forms of birth control will be banned. (Which scares me, too.) It scares them because they believe allowances should be made in certain cases, like rape.

Rape is a horrible thing, but I do know someone who was raped and impregnated from it, and she had the baby and gave it up for adoption. An amazingly brave thing to do - and I believe the right thing. Rape is horrible thing, but two wrongs don't make a right. Following it up with murder isn't right.

And despite all that, I think that we need to propose an amendment that makes exceptions for abortions in the cases of rape and incest and that will clearly not abolish any preventatives to pregnancy. Not because I believe the exceptions are right, but because I believe it's the only way an amendment against abortion would ever have a chance of passing. And I'd rather save the lives of 90% of babies that would have been aborted than hold out for the 100% and never get there.

Editor

Whenever people hear that I'm an editor, they think my job means reading things to check for grammatical and spelling errors. That isn't at all what I do.

In fact, there's a whole different position for those grammar and spelling whizzes, and they do it far better than I could. And some of my editor colleagues have admitted their spelling is atrocious.

What I do is this: I help develop the ideas for curriculum: what it will look like, what Bible passages we'll use, what gizmos we'll include, that kind of thing. Then I pass that info along to freelance writers, who create lessons. We go back and forth as they create outlines, 1st drafts, and finals. I help authors refine their ideas throughout that process, making sure they're meaningful and creative, and fit Group's filters. I help them refine questions to be meaningful and discussion provoking. I love helping authors take good ideas and make them great.

Once I've got all the author's manuscripts for a given quarter, I do one final edit to make sure everything flows together nicely and is formatted correctly.

Then I work with our internal team to continue to refine the manuscripts and make sure things get laid out correctly, that everything works the way it should.

I absolutely love my job, because I get to be creative and find ways to improve things. And that's what a Group editor does.

Steady Growth

So often I learn something new...either an interesting fact about the Bible or more often, a life lesson about how I can be a better person...and I think, why didn't I learn this a long time ago?

The fact of the matter is, I really would love to already be perfect. It frustrates me that even when I'm old and gray, I'll still be doing dumb things and hurting people.

But it hit me the other day that if God taught me everything I needed to know to be who he wants me to be before I was 10, it would be overwhelming. I'd be overloaded and perhaps paralyzed by the realization of all those shortcomings at once.

God, in his wisdom, teaches me just what I need to know when he needs me to know it.

Stake

I heard a really interesting metaphor in church today. The preacher said that when a captive elephant is a baby, people will tie it to a rope that's attached to a stake in the ground. The baby elephant isn't strong enough to pull the stake from its place, so it can't go anywhere.

But as the elephant grows bigger and stronger, a size where it would be perfectly capable of pulling out the stake, it no longer tries. The elephant remembers that it's incapable of pulling out the stake. Failure is inevitable, so why try?

That metaphor really struck me. I so often limit myself because of past failures. I failed at it before, why bother trying now? But perhaps, like the elephant, I've grown stronger (at least on the inside), and I could succeed now, if I'd give it a try.

Giving

Every year Group hosts a luncheon in which we award grants to Colorado non-profits. Last year I got to go to the lunch, but this year I helped on the committee. Which meant I got to read some of the applications.

It was so hard to choose. I wanted to pick all 16 in my category, but I could only pick 2. And that was one of 12 categories - all total we had 160 applications!

It's awesome to be a part of Group's charitable giving committee. It's awesome to know that I work for a company that generously gives to those doing good work in the community.

But even moreso, it's awesome to know that there are so many people doing good things in the community. 160 applications! We had people with halfway houses for at-risk women, or for those battling drug addictions. There were churches reaching out to their community in such amazing ways. Organizations fighting disease, or providing food for kids in need.

And the big winner of our $25,000 award was a suicide prevention organization for our county. It was shocking to hear that in Larimer County, someone commits suicide every 9 days. I was touched by the looks on the recipients faces. It's so different than someone winning a Publisher's Clearing House Sweepstakes. There's excitement at this luncheon that's purely unselfish. You can see recipients' minds pondering all the good they can do with this money.

It's awesome to know that in spite of all the poverty, all the evil, all the disease, all the selfishness...there are hundreds and thousands of people in our community fighting it and doing good.

Retro

Sony first started making Walkman cassette players in 1979. Today I learned that they are going to discontinue them, but only in Japan. (This news arrived at the same time as the news that they were still making them.)

I can't believe it took this long for Sony to realize that Walkmans were out-dated. And they still haven't taken them completely off the market. I can't imagine even baby brother Discman is bringing in the big bucks nowadays. But I suppose a select few might still be in the market for a Discman. But Walkmans? Really, Sony?

I think one of my biggest fears is that I'll lose touch. I'm not ashamed of my VCR (which I use often to record programs), but only because I know it's out-dated. I know that TiVo and DVR are much better technologies. I simply don't want to spend the money on them.

But my fear is that I'll become out-dated and not even know it. I'm an editor of children's curriculum, and I need to be in touch with kids' worlds, interests, and realities. What's the latest trend? What are kids watching? What music do they like? And if I lose touch with that and don't even know it, I'll end up just like Sony, trying to sell a tape player 15 years after people stop using tapes.

Sony first started making Walkmans cassette players in 1979. Today I learned that they are going to discontinue them. (This news arrived at the same time as the news that they were still making them.)

I can't believe it took this long for Sony to realize that Walkmans were out-dated. I can't imagine even baby brother Discman is bringing in the big bucks nowadays. But I suppose a select few might still be in the market for a Discman. But Walkmans? Really, Sony?

I think one of my biggest fears is that I'll lose touch. I'm not ashamed of my VCR (which I use often to record programs), but only because I know it's out-dated. I know that TiVo and DVR are much better technologies. I simply don't want to spend the money on them.

But my fear is that I'll become out-dated and not even know it. I'm an editor of children's curriculum, and I need to be in touch with kids' worlds, interests, and realities. What's the latest trend? What are kids watching? What music do they like? And if I lose touch with that and don't even know it, I'll end up just like Sony, trying to sell a tape player up to 15 years after people stop using tapes.

Knowledge

A few weeks ago results came out about a religion quiz (http://features.pewforum.org/quiz/us-religious-knowledge). 10 knowledge-based questions about a variety of religions were asked, and the groups that scored the best were atheists and agnostics.

Those results made me pause. We emphasize the importance of a meaningful, deep relationship with Jesus, and I definitely think that's the most important thing. But I wonder if in doing that, we disregard biblical knowledge and knowledge about other religions.

Bottom line: what we know about our faith shows others that we've made an educated choice to follow Jesus. We're not just leaning on a crush; we know the options and we've decided Christian faith is the way. And what these results indicate to the world is that the people who really have looked into the options have decided no faith is the way.

Relationship with Jesus is key. But if we want to show the world that relationship is the one true way, we've got to know our stuff.

Smear

I can't WAIT for election day to be over so we can be done with all these annoying campaign ads for the year. They're annoying in general, but what I find particularly irksome is the large quantity of them that are simply there to tear apart the candidate's opponent.

Announcement to candidates: I don't want to vote for you because you are just the lesser of two evils. Your opponent has done something wrong, therefore I should vote for you? No, I want to vote for you because you'll do a good job. So please, convince me of that and I'll forget about your opponent.

It really gets to me that every election seems to come down to who is less terrible, rather than who is most qualified.

Butts

Allow me a gripe session for a moment, if you please.

When did littering cigarettes become so socially acceptable? If you choose to pollute your body with cigarettes, that's your right and your choice. I'm really not in a place to judge with my lack of fruits and veggies and my love of candy. But I don't go throwing my candy wrappers out the car window or on my neighbor's steps. And while there may be a few who do litter candy wrappers, it's the exception.

But littering cigarettes? I can't a remember a day that I've been on the road and not seen at least one person litter a cigarette butt. Usually much more than one person. Why do people think this is OK? Your car comes with an ashtray. Use it. And if you don't like the gross butt in your car - don't smoke!

If you know or are someone who smokes and doesn't throw your butts on the ground, please, let me know. Because I'm starting to wonder if there are any smokers out there who don't litter.

Fuel

There is a direct correlation between my mood and whether or not I've spent time with God that day. If I have spent time with God, even when things go awry, I stay pretty positive. When I haven't spent time with him, the smallest glitch - or even nothing going wrong - puts me in an irritable mood.

Much like my car needs fuel to run, I need God to fill me and fuel me each day. When I run on my own energy, I am quickly drained. But when I commune with him in prayer and basking in his word, he fills me with the strength I need.

Gone

A friend of mine from my youth group died over 4 years ago. He was a guy I'd had a major crush on in 8th grade, and sometimes one of us would catch a ride home with the other's family, but we'd never really been close friends. Still, in a youth group of 30 kids or so and over the course of 6 years, we got to know each other pretty well.

I really hadn't thought of him much between I'd graduated high school and when I learned he was missing (they found his body four days later). I doubt I ever would have seen him again even if he hadn't died so young, since I don't get back to Rhode Island much and like I said, we were never very close friends.

But every now and then I think of him. I'll see someone who looks kind of like him, or I'll hear "Gettin' Jiggy With It" (his favorite song during my crush), or some other little thing will remind me of him. And it always makes me cry. Even though like I said, I probably wouldn't have seen him again on this earth anyway, it makes me sad to know that I for sure won't. It makes me sad to think of all the people who were close to him that he left behind. It makes me sad that this boy who at age 13 I was sure I would marry never did get the chance to find a wife.

It's weird. No one close to me has ever died. My grandpa died, but I didn't really know him that well. And when I think how sad it to makes me that this distant friend from the past is gone - even four years later - I shudder to think how hard it will be when that day comes that a close loved one of mine passes on.

Owl

When I was about 5 years old, I made a paper bag owl puppet in Sunday School. I was so proud of my owl puppet and had great plans to play with it at home.

Driving home with my mom and 12 year old sister, we had the windows down. And wouldn't you know it, a big gust of wind blew that owl right out of my hands and off to the side of the road.

My mom pulled over, and she and my sister helped me chase down that owl puppet and save it from doom. And that meant so much to me, so much so that 21 years later I'm still touched that they did that.

I can't imagine it was the greatest masterpiece; it was made by a five-year old. My mom must have known that it was something I'd throw out someday anyway. Or she could have just gotten out a paper bag at home and helped me re-create it. But she knew that owl - the one one the side of the road - was important to me.

That's an enormous amount of respect. When something that's important to someone else - regardless of how you view it - becomes something that you'll pull over and salvage from the side of the road.

Options

I'm kind of in a funk tonight. A little nauseous (no, I'm not pregnant) but hungry, so determining what food sounded appetizing was difficult. I'm tired (still not pregnant), but felt like doing something, so I had to figure out whether to build up the energy to go for a walk or something, or stay in and watch a movie, or just fritter the evening away with meaningless time wasting. I chose the movie.

But as I catered to my funk, I couldn't help but be grateful. Not grateful that I'm in a funk, but grateful to have options. So many people don't have options of what food sounds appetizing to them - they eat whatever they can. IF they have the option to eat that night. So many people don't have options to have pleasant leisure time.

I do. You probably do to, unless you're a hobo reading this on a library computer. And even though it's not nice to be in a funk, it's nice to know that when you are you have the option to baby yourself, whether or not you choose to indulge it.

And I'm also grateful that Dan was willing to cater to my funk. He went and got me Ritz crackers and McDonald's fries, and the chick flick of my choice (which he watched with me). Thanks Babe!

Ego

I was reading 1 Corinthians 1 this morning, where Paul talks about how there are divisions in the church because some people are saying they follow Jesus, some that they follow Apollos, or Peter, or Paul. And Paul wants to put a stop to it. He says he's glad he didn't baptize any of them so they can't say they were baptized in his name.

I don't know that I'd be so firm about putting a stop to someone giving me that kind of praise. Not that I want people to worship me, but there's something about being important that feeds my ego. I'd like to take credit for things. I'd like to be recognized more. That's what the sinful nature inside of me desires.

And every day is a battle to shush that voice that says it's all about me and to point to Jesus in everything I do.

Seekers

About a decade (or more) ago, there came this movement in the church to become more seeker-friendly. We can't reach people if we never see them. So let's make ourselves super appealing with awesome worship bands and cool lighting, and messages that don't get into the Bible in a way that will be too much for a first-timer. Some churches took this philosophy more seriously than others. And I think most churches had the intention of then discipling those who came. The problem is, the focus was on attracting seekers. And seekers soon became more important than depth and discipling.

I've heard more and more rumblings from people lately (echoing my own thoughts) about wanting more from the church. The problem with being seeker-friendly (at least the way we've done it) is that it's so shallow. And shallow doesn't hold people's attention for long. There's this longing in all of us to be a part of something meaningful, and a fog machine just won't fill that longing.

I remember in college feeling this way, too. In a town with a Christian college, all of the churches were competing to have the most appeal to the Wheaton student audience. And at the beginning of each year, there was a church fair day where churches could set up tables along the quad to inform students about their church.

It felt like a circus to me. There were free CDs. And donuts. And candy. And t-shirts. And I'm not saying I turned down the donuts and candy (I'm only human), but all those giveaways pretty much deterred me from wanting to go to that church. Because if you have to bribe me with donuts to come to your church, my gut tells me that's the most filled I'll ever get there.

Then I saw the table for the church I ended up going to. No big fancy displays. No giveaways. Not even a basket of starlight mints. Just a sign, and I can't remember exactly what it said but something simple about how they teach God's word and help people grow closer to him. Yes, I thought. That's what I want so much more than donuts. I want to know God's word and grow closer to him.

Granted, I'm a been-churched-my-whole-life kind of person. I'm not the sought out seeker. But I don't think shallow hooks anyone for long. And even if it does, has it really transformed them, or just gotten them to block out an hour on Sunday mornings?

Me

I've always had a very clear sense of self. What I like, what I don't like, what I'm good at. It was never hard for my family to buy me Christmas and birthday presents. I was me, and I made sure everyone knew who I was.

I wrote the blog "25 Things about Ali" the other day and while it was a little difficult to think of 25 things on the spot, it really wasn't too hard to think of what makes me unique. In fact since then I came up with two more things that I posted as a comment on that blog, plus these 5:

- I eat gravy like soup
- I hate having more than 2 ice cubes in my drink
- I always carve my name into takeout boxes from restaurants
- I hate live music recordings
- I used to be a really slow eater and my mom always had to remind me, "Take another bite, Alison..."

And I'm sure I'll think of more. Because I'm confident in who I am and I know who I am. I think part of it is how God made me, and part of it is how my parents nurtured me to be confident in myself.

I'm really thankful for that. I know people who struggle to figure out who they are, and I've never felt that. In college I struggled with figuring out what I wanted to major in and what career to pursue, but mostly because I couldn't think of all the options out there. Once I heard "curriculum", I knew that's what I was going to do.

So while I may be a little weird, I'm cool with that, and I'm thankful to know who I am.

Jesus Alone?

They say you can't rely on your spouse and friends to fill all your needs. No human can fill all your needs - you need Jesus to do that.

But I think sometimes when people say that, they take it to the extreme. As if Jesus is supposed to fill all of our needs, therefore we should never feel lonely if people aren't spending time with us. Jesus is supposed to fill all of our needs, so we can just tell him everything rather than building trustworthy relationships.

And while Jesus can fill all of our needs, I don't think that's how he intended it. God made us for community. The Bible is full of "one another" commands for how to treat our friends and brothers and sisters in Christ. He doesn't want us to just hole up and only be in relationship with him. And I don't think he wants us to settle for sub-par relationships just because he can fill the holes left by that relationship.

Relying on Jesus to fill our needs should never be an excuse to settle in our relationships with people.

Initiative

A friend of mine recently posted as her status something about how much she appreciates when friends take the initiative to do things with her. She noted that her own insecurities often prevent her from taking the initiative, and she really appreciates it when other people do it.

I could really identify with a lot of that. I've often taken the role of initiator in my relationships, being the one to suggest that a friend and I get together. Or especially in college, when people so often would say, "We should do lunch sometime" and nothing would ever come of it. If anyone ever said "we should do lunch sometime" to me, I'd say, "How's Tuesday at 11:30?" I hated leaving these vague and unofficial plans hanging because they usually amounted to nothing.

I realize that sounds like the opposite of identifying with my friend's status. But hear me out.

Because I've so often taken that role of initiator, that's become my role and my role alone in some relationships. And while I don't mind initiating spending time with people, when I'm the only one doing it in relationship it feels so one-sided. And I start to wonder, "Does this person really want to spend time with me? Or are they just saying yes because they don't know how to let me down gently?"

So when a friend takes the initiative to ask ME to do something, it means SO much to me. It tells me that yes, that person DOES want to spend time with me. And that gives me the confidence to pursue the friendship more and to be a better friend to that person. For me, taking initiative to spend time with people has to be a two way street or the friendship fizzles out in my own insecurities. (Which are only confirmed when I cease to take initiative and the person doesn't seem to notice or care.)

I think I sometimes exude this sense of self-confidence. And it's true to an extent - I'm secure in who I am. I'm not going to change who I am to fit in. But when it comes to relationships, I really struggle with insecurity and wondering if that person really truly likes me.

Relly

At Group, as with any company that puts out products to customers, we sometimes get complaints. And when we get them, some people tend to be overly negative and super nit-picky. I mean really stupid little details that effect nothing, and they just blow it up to be this huge deal. We get a lot of great feedback that's critical but kindly worded with helpful things we could improve, and that's great. But when we get those nit-picky negative Nellies who just seem to hate everything, it really frustrates me.

As I mentioned in my blog yesterday, we had the Fun Shop for 5th graders at Group. And as I also mentioned, it did NOT go perfectly. We ran out of pizza and had to rush to get more. Lunch ran short. There was mass confusion at one point. Lots to complain about, really.

But these 5th graders were so positive in their evaluations. Some of them mentioned they wished there was more time for the main part of the event (which was why lunch ran short), or that they wish there was more pizza, but even those who mentioned it had other glowing reviews all over their evaluations. They clearly didn't let the glitches spoil their day. And the majority said they wouldn't change anything about the day, it was sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much fun (yep, at least that many o's), they had a "relly" fun time, and it was awesome!!!!!!!!!!!!! (With Peanut-like exclamation points.)

I mentioned this to a friend today and I said I wished all our customers were 5th graders. They were so encouraging, even in their suggestions for improvement. And how many adults do you know that would put 30 o's at the end of the word "so"?

My friend asked rhetorically, "I wonder when we lose that enthusiasm." Somewhere between 5th grade and adulthood, we drop some o's off of our sooooo's. We lose a few exclamation points. Things aren't "relly fun" anymore. I think maybe that's one reason Jesus wanted us to become more like children. They have such a zeal and enthusiasm for life. They don't sweat the small mistakes of an overall great day. (And if they get out of school, it's pretty much going to be a great day.)

Maybe the question isn't "Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader?" but rather, "Are you as happy as a 5th grader?"

Success

Today I was in charge of an event called the FunShop at Group. It's an event for 5th graders to come to Group, learn some career skills, and learn about the publishing world. Group has done it before, but with different content and I've never been a part of it.

I've done event planning before and I hated it...too much stress. But this was a smaller event than the things I'd done before, and it was a lot of fun. I got to be a part of it and do fun things with kids, which is always awesome.

Did it go perfectly? No. I have a whole list of things that I want to do differently next time. But as I read over the evaluations today, the kids loved it. They learned things and had a great time. And I realized that success doesn't mean doing things perfectly, especially the first time you try it. There will be glitches. No one can plan something perfectly.

But success is doing things the best you can, making a difference in people's lives even if there are things that could go better, and learning how you can improve it for the next time around.

You can check out what the kids at group.com/funshop.

25 Things About Ali

1. There are three main smells I despise: peanuts/peanut butter (makes me nauseous), cinnamon, oranges/citrus.

2. I really like to drink from straws. I hardly ever drink without a straw if I can help it.

3. In college, I named all sorts of inanimate objects, including Jabir the Couch, Fido the Phone, and Fluffy the Answering machine.

4. Currently, my car's name is Carrie Corolla, and my laptop is Stewie. But I haven't named anything else inanimate.

5. My last haircut was June 2009.

6. I dressed as our school mascot, an elephant, for several homecomings.

7. I have a profound dislike for envelopes, once their function has been fulfilled.

8. I love chicken noodle soup, but not the chicken in it.

9. I have a collection of monkey stuffed animals.

10. Until I got married and had red as a wedding color, my favorite color was rainbow.

11. I hate musicals and have been known to fast forward through the songs in Disney movies so as to get on with the plot.

12. I frequently make loud exclamations of the word, "Puppies!" because I get excited to have them around.

13. My cookie obsession started on February 13, 2009, when Fireside started serving them.

14. When I go grocery shopping, I am extremely driven. In and out of Walmart in 30 minutes or less, including checkout time. Don't get in my way, and I may not stop the cart to grab what I need off the shelves.

15. My right leg is 9 millimeters shorter than my left leg. My right arm is also slightly shorter than my left, and my right eye slightly smaller that my left.

16. I often get cravings for one of the following: fried chicken, soup, gummy bears, Cheetos, cookies, chipwiches, Pringles, and plain milk chocolate.

17. I collect half price Cadbury Mini Eggs (the solid milk chocolate with crisp sugar shell eggs, in the purple bag) after Easter and Christmas, and eat them throughout the year. I used to keep a spreadsheet to make sure I was evenly rationing them, but I gave that up.

18. In 5th grade I was convinced I was an alien from the planet Zebop.

19. I can say the alphabet backwards in under 3 seconds.

20. I need at least 9 hours of sleep a night or I'm exhausted the next day.

21. I hate being alone, and I hate being in groups. I like one-on-one time.

22. Although I was never girly, never liked princesses or pink, I now dress as a princess every Halloween just so I can make the most of those prom dresses in my closet and the tiara from my wedding.

23. My 4th grade Halloween, I dressed as a functional lamp.

24. I've never been out of the United States, not even to Canada.

25. One of my biggest pet peeves is when people multitask when spending time with me. Don't text, don't talk on your phone, don't go online. Do that on your own time if you've made plans with me.

Self-Esteem

Yesterday at Walmart I saw a girl falling out of her shirt so far that more than just cleavage was showing. It was very disturbing...mostly because I thought about why the girl was dressed like that. I wanted to run to the clothing department, grab a shirt off the rack, buy it for her, and say, "you're worth more than this."

On the whole, when girls dress in ways that expose themselves that much, it's a self-esteem issue. There's a line between dressing tastefully but hot, and dressing to attract attention from guys. And when it's to attract attention, it's usually because the girl in question doesn't believe she has enough worth as a person to attract guys with anything other than her chest.

And is it any wonder? The world screams at women, via TV, magazine covers, you name it, that to be worth something is to be hot. And to show that hot body off. And then it becomes a vicious cycle: girl dresses to flaunt herself, it gets guys' attention, girl's suspicion is confirmed that to attract a guys attention she must dress to flaunt herself. And so guys learn more and more to see women as sex objects; after all, they dress to show off their bodies. "Isn't that what they want?" guys wonder, unaware of the inner struggle us girls face between wanting so badly to be valued and wondering if we'll ever get the attention we crave without some unhealthy flaunting.

I don't know how to break the cycle. But somehow us women have to learn that we have more worth than our physical bodies.

Transition

I remember as a kid sitting bored as I waited for my mom to stop talking with a friend. What could they possibly have to talk about for so long? Who could be interested in talking for that long? It all seemed so boring.

Now I'm grown up and I like to get together with friends over non-coffee cafe drinks for a nice chat. Or hang out after small group (which has just been a couple hours of talking) to find out what's up with them. Turns out it's not so boring once you become an adult.

And yet, the things that come so naturally to kids - playing, pretending, letting loose, having fun - don't come so naturally anymore.

Somewhere between childhood and adult, we lose our ability to pretend and grow an ability to interact only verbally.

And I think that somewhere between those two lies the best way to live. To be able to make a game out of whatever you've got, to have fun, to pretend and daydream and not be confined by reality...but still to be able to interact with people in a way that shows genuine care for what's going on in their lives.

Finishing Well

I've been reading in 2 Chronicles lately and with all the brief glimpses into the lives of the kings of Judah, it's got me thinking about living life well to the end. Here are three accounts that stuck out to me.

Asa: Does good and right. Tears down foreign altars and Asherah poles. Wins a couple battles by trusting in God. And then towards the end of his life, Asa gets nervous about enemy attacks. So he makes a treaty with the king of Aram, putting his trust in the king to save Judah rather than putting his trust in God. God isn't happy about this. And then Asa gets angry at the prophet who tells him God isn't happy, so he puts him in prison and brutally oppresses people. And then he gets a severe food disease and this is what the Bible says: "Though his disease was severe, even in his illness he did not seek help from the Lord, but only from the physicians." And then he dies. A life well lived except at the very end, when he refused to trust in God.

Jehoshaphat: Does good and right. Follows God, removes high places. Makes an alliance with Israel, and then Israel wants to go to battle against Ramoth Gilead. Now, the king of Israel (Ahab) isn't a good king, but Jehoshaphat is, so he wants to seek the counsel of the Lord. Ahab brings in all these false prophets and they say to go for it. But Jehoshaphat recognizes that they're fake and asks for a real prophet. Ahab says they have one but he doesn't like him because he's always giving them bad news. But they call him in, and the prophet says Ahab will die in battle if they go. So they go. And Ahab dies. Which was what God wanted...but he didn't want Jehoshaphat to be a part of it. So the next time there's a battle, just for Judah, Jehoshaphat seeks God's guidance again and follows it to the T, appointing people to worship God as they basically stand unarmed against the enemy. And they win, because they did what God said.

Jehoram: Bad guy. Never did anything right. Gets a disease in his bowels until they eventually fall out, which kills him. (For real.) And then the Bible says this: "He passed away to no one's regret."

Three kings. Two who started out good, only one who finished well. Finishing well isn't about being perfect. It's about learning from your mistakes and doing the right thing the next time around. Asa didn't get that. He let one bad choice harden him for the rest of his life. He ruined his ending. Jehoshaphat got it. So he followed God the next time. And Jehoram? No one even missed him when he was gone. He'd never done the right thing.

Control

We're reading this book "Linchpin" by Seth Godin at work. And while I disagree with a lot of the things he says, I think he makes some good points in there.

Particularly in the chapter "There Is No Map." He talks about how we get so easily annoyed and distracted by a car honking its horn outside, but if the noise comes from the wind scratching a twig against the window, we feel comforted and safe and continue doing what we're doing. Or how if a presentation is disrupted by human error (someone didn't check the batteries in the microphone), it could throw him all off balance...but if the projector dies he just adapts.

Godin writes, "The ability to see the world as it is begins with an understanding that perhaps it's not your job to change what can't be changed."

As you may have surmised from my color coded magnetic dinner calendar, I'm a bit of a control freak. And Godin isn't saying that trying to control things is bad. He's just saying it's important to discern what's within our power to change and control, and what's not. And to let go of the things that are beyond our control.

But even if things seem beyond our control, Godin writes, "If you're able to look at what's happening in your world and say, 'There's the pattern,' or 'Wow, that's interesting, I wonder why,' then you're far more likely to respond productively than if your reaction is, 'How dare he!'"

So if, for instance, I find that the same car continually cuts me off on the way to work, I could get frustrated with this terrible driver...or I could observe the pattern and adapt by choosing a different route or leaving at a different time. Although I can't control the driver, I could limit my interaction with him. And if different cars cut me off at random with no discernible pattern, then there's nothing I can do about it, and using any mental exertion being frustrated is a waste.

I think this is all similar to what I blogged about a few days ago in my blog "Problems." Either do something about it or get over it. But I think along with that goes this ability Godin writes about, the ability to discern what is and isn't worth our effort.

Overflow

God is flowing through me. He's changing my attitude. He's helping me be his child. He's showing himself to me in new ways. He's teaching me so much.

Spending time with God is one of those things that is so wonderful when you're doing it regularly, but then if you're not you forget how wonderful it is.

I've spent too many days seeing prayer and Bible reading as an obligation, a task on a checklist. When the reality is, when I'm regularly spending time with God, it is a wonderful thing. His presence guides me through the day. I don't struggle through it because it's God flowing through me, not me muddling along.

I've been spending time with God more often lately and his strength in my weakness has been amazingly fulfilling. I am filled with his peace, his joy, and his love.

Problems

I heard this quote in the movie The Ugly Truth: "There are no problems, only solutions." I LOVE that quote.

Because I think we as humans have a tendency to spend far too much time dwelling on problems. And I've said before something along the lines of, "if you don't like it, change it, and if you can't change it, complaining won't help anyway."

And yet I continue to complain, continue to tap my left foot impatiently while my right foot holds down the brake pedal at a long red light. How much stress do we add to our lives fretting over meaningless things like that when our fretting doesn't change anything?

Find a solution and if you can't, just deal with it.

Conspiracy

It seems like almost every night on the commercials for the news (I don't watch the actual news), there's some new thing to worry about. Tonight's is germs that can make you sick - coming home in your groceries.

Germs, conspiracies, scams...it seems like there's just so much to worry about! And yet, not knowing the full story and thus not caring, I can live without that worry. And sure, from time to time maybe I'll get sick or something because I ignored the warnings. But overall, I think I live in a lot more freedom not fretting over every little worry harm reported on the news.

Psalm 16

I am thankful for everything God has blessed me with. But sometimes I wonder if I am too focused on the blessings and not enough on the one who blesses.

Verse 2: "I said to the Lord, 'You are my Lord; apart from you I have no good thing.'"

It is only by his grace and favor that he has blessed me.

Verses 5-6: "Lord, you have assigned me my portion and my cup; you have made my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance."

Everything we have is from God.

Verse 11: "You have made known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand."

And when our earthly treasures fail (and they will), we can always count on the joy of God's presence and the eternal pleasures of life with him.

Slow

God has been changing something in me.

At the beginning of 2010 I wrote these two words in the front of my then paper planner: "Be present." I realized I did too many things in life without really enjoying them. I was always thinking about the next thing. So amidst all my New Year's resolutions, I had one main immeasurable goal for the year: to be present.

I have to be honest. It was something that was on my mind in December/January, but then I didn't really do much about it. I don't think I knew how to be present.

I think the turning point happened for me when I saw a counselor about my snake phobia. Something that was an added bonus to dealing with my fear. I learned to breathe.

She used a relaxation technique to help me with my fear, which always started out with me taking deep breaths. Hand on my stomach, eyes closed, just focusing on the breath. And it was indeed, relaxing.

It was hard at first. It was kind of boring. Breath just happens. You don't need to focus on it. Aren't there more exciting and important things I could be using my brain for? But somewhere in there something in me changed. And I learned not just how to breathe and enjoy it, but how to BE and enjoy it.

Lately I've been doing more and more stuff - I've been running, reading more, spending more time with new friends, finishing my books, cooking new meals, spending more time with God. And yet I don't feel busy. I feel so much less busy than ever before. Because rather than going through the motions of each thing like it's a check on a list (even if it is on my to do list), I've been fully engaged in each activity. And if I start to lose focus, I just pause, breathe, and regain the focus. There's so much less stress this way. Just enjoyment. Freedom. Breath.

Reinvented Me

In Kindergarten and then again in 2nd-6th grade, I had the world's worst gym teacher: Mr. Carron. (His first lesson each year was that his name was spelled that way.) He was one of those people that's so mean and hate-filled you wonder what ever inspired him to become a teacher. I mean really, wasn't there a position open in the Nazi regime?

Well, God didn't make me with much coordination, it seemed. And Mr. Carron routinely did things to point out how terrible I was at sports. Rather than encourage me to try my best or teach me how to do it better, he mocked my basketball skills and singled me out when I was the only girl who couldn't do a split.

And so I never did any extra curricular sports, never tried much in gym class even after I moved on to 7th grade, because I believed one thing to be surely true about myself: I would never be a gifted athlete.

When church events, camps, or field trips required athletic events, I would do my best to get exempt from such things. And if I had to participate, I'd apologetically let everyone know beforehand that I wasn't very good at whatever the activity was. Just to avoid the embarrassment of them finding that out for themselves.

Well, today our department at work went on a team retreat, which involved 2 hours of volleyball and some team building games. And last night I realized something: no one here in Colorado knew that I'm not athletically gifted. No one had seen Mr. Carron's teasing. And what if my un-athletic ability was really just in my mind? What if it was a lie I'd believed for so long that it had become a self-fulfilling prophecy? What if I could re-invent myself as a good athlete?

So I decided to go into today and give it my all. No pre-game apologies for my lack of skill. No timidness because what if I embarrassed myself? Just do my best, be the ball, and have fun. And guess what? I wasn't one of the all-star volleyball players on the team, but I played way better than I ever have before. I had a lot of good hits, one in particular that seemed and impossible hit, and everyone was excited when I made it.

And get this - one of my co-workers asked me if I played sports in high school! And her inflection wasn't so much a question tone, but more of a "oh, you must have played sports" kind of inflection. Which was pretty exciting for me. No one has ever assumed that about me, except running because of my build.

I had a lot more fun than I've ever had playing sports. Sure, I had a few way off hits, and one where the volleyball went right through my arms, but I wasn't focused on the embarrassment. I was focused on re-inventing me. Ali: the reasonably decent athlete. And it worked!

So take that, Mr. Carron!

Walmart God Sighting

This evening as I was pulling into the west-facing entrance of the Walmart parking lot, I got a glimpse of the sun setting over the mountains. It wasn't one of those complexly gorgeous sunsets with dozens of clouds painted in an array of pinks and oranges. In fact, none of the clouds in the sky were close enough to the sun to be very affected.

And yet this sunset was so beautiful in its simplicity. Rays of light beamed out from behind the mountains, backlighting those immediately in front of it and creating an ethereal glow around them. Those same rays of light illuminated Longs Peak (and the other tall one next to it), giving them an almost heavenly glow. Other rays just shot up within the golden sky. It was beautiful. I stood in awe of how God could make something so simple so beautiful.

Then I pulled into a parking space and the song "From the Inside Out" came on the radio. I just sat in my car for a bit, listening and singing along and worshiping with all I had to offer. And in that moment, with the golden sky to my west and a song of praise in my heart, I felt God with me.

Assumptions

In 1 Chronicles 19, the king of the Ammonites dies, and his son succeeds him. David got along well with the previous king, and wanted to show kindness to the son. So he sent some Israelites to Ammon to express sympathy for the king's death.

Well, the new king assumes that the Israelites are spies and cuts off the seat of their robes (I'm not making this up). And he shaves them. They retreat, humiliated. And then David gets mad. But he STILL doesn't do anything to the Ammonites. They, knowing they've angered him and thinking he will attack, decide to wage war. And ultimately, they get brutally defeated by the Israelites.

All this because they assumed the worst. They looked at David's kindness and assumed it was a ploy. And they reacted to their assumptions, which caused massive consequences that could have been avoided if they'd just found out what the Israelites were really there for.

It's like the phrase goes, "Never assume, because..."

Dreams

In 1 Chronicles 17, David has the desire to build a temple for God. It's a great, God-honoring idea. It seems such a good idea that Nathan the prophet tells David to go for it.

But then God tells Nathan to let David know the temple isn't his to build. David's son will build it - it will happen - but God has other things for David to do. Building the temple, however noble it may be, isn't David's call.

David responds with praise and thanks. He is grateful to God that his son will build the temple. He is grateful that God has honored him and his family, and that God has promised to keep his son on the throne.

I've had dreams taken away from me, too. A ministry that I really loved, taken away because God was preparing me for a different call. And God raised up awesome new people for that ministry. I should have been grateful. God was blessing the ministry with a great new team. He had good plans in store for me. I could have responded like David. But I didn't, not right away.

God doesn't just rip away our dreams for no reason. It's always for some greater purpose, even if we can't see it at the time. And we, like David, can respond with thanks and praise.

Homosexuality

I believe that homosexuality is wrong. I believe the Bible is very clear on that.

I also believe that the Church elevates homosexuality and shuns anyone who struggles with it. And I believe that is wrong as well.

I was reading in Romans 1-2 yesterday and today. Romans 1:26-27 talks about homosexuality. It calls it perversion. It is clearly a statement about it being a sin, and people in the Church often use these verses in support of their argument against homosexuality.

But verses 28-32 continue saying that furthermore, mankind has been filled with all kinds of other sins, too. Including (but not limited to): wickedness, greed, envy, deceit, gossip, slander, arrogance, boastfulness, and disobedience to parents. And that's just the ones on the list I know I've struggled with. There are more.

And then there's 2:1: "You, therefore, have no excuse, you who pass judgment on someone else, for at whatever point you judge the other, you are condemning yourself, because you who pass judgment on do the same things."

In other words, people who use 1:26-27 to condemn gays are really condemning themselves, because they do some of the other things on that list of sins. None is greater than the other. None of us are exempt from that list of sins, so none of us can cast judgment on someone who struggles with any of the ones we don't.

I think anytime the Church decides not to show love to a certain type of person, that's wrong. Because Jesus showed love to everyone. And he was perfect! How much more should we, who wallow in sinfulness, show God's love to other sinners? Why do we make gays feel like they aren't welcome in the Church, when the gossipers who are also on that list seem to have free reign?

Furthermore, I believe that passage only makes the case that the act of homosexuality is wrong. People often confuse the struggle with homosexuality (attraction to the same gender) with the act. I may be inclined to gossip, but if I abstain from it then I have not sinned, despite my inclination. Same thing with homosexuality, I think.

Treetops

And once again David asked God what to do. 'Do not attack them straight on,' God replied. 'Instead, circle around behind and attack them near the poplar trees. When you hear a sound like marching feet in the tops of the poplar trees, go out and attack! That will be the signal that God is moving ahead of you to strike down the Philistine army.' So David did what God commanded, and they struck down the Philistine army all the way from Gibeon to Gezer." - 1 Chronicles 14:14-16

I read this passage this morning and I really loved it. God goes before us. Whether it's in battle, like it was for David, or in a tough situation in life, or just each day with all of its unexpected turns, God goes before us in the treetops.

I'm going to think of this whenever I see the wind blow through the trees now. God is going before me. I am never alone. I am never facing life without God's help.

Rain

Rain is often used as a metaphor for hard times. "When it rains, it pours."

But the wildfires have gotten me thinking about rain. It's desparately needed. Without it, the grass became dry, causing someone's fire to spread to over 700 acres. And without it, firefighters have had to work much harder to put out the fire than they would have had to with rain. One thing we could really use right now as we continue to contain this fire (now at 65%) is rain to obliterate the remaining 35%.

And maybe that's true of hard times, too. Maybe sometimes the metaphorical rain comes to strengthen us and prevent a metaphorical wildfire from breaking out. To teach us a lesson and bring life to withered grass and plants. To ultimately help stamp out something dangerous that was spreading in our lives...even if we didn't know it.

Maybe since my life was changed
Long before these rainy days
It's never really ever crossed my mind
To turn my back on you, oh Lord
My only shelter from the storm
But instead I draw closer through these times
So I pray

Bring me joy, bring me peace
Bring the chance to be free
Bring me anything that brings You glory
And I know there'll be days
When this life brings me pain
But if that's what it takes to praise You
Jesus, bring the rain

Treasures

As I watched the coverage of the Reservoir Road fire west of Loveland, I saw this story about a dog who had been left behind when his owners evacuated. Having seen them packing up some things, he'd jumped in their mobile home expecting a trip. And they left without him. But later, the humane society rescued him and reunited him with his owners. It was supposed to be this touching story. A dog reunited with his family. But all I could think was: "They left without their dog!??!?!?!" I mean, it's one thing if you're not at home and can't get back. But they were right there, packing up their valuables, and they left him behind?!?!

If I had to evacuate my house due to impending wildfire, and I had 2 minutes to pack, I would grab my insurance papers, my laptop, my flash drive with all of our digital pictures on it, my phone and purse, maybe some journals, and a few changes of clothes.

But the two things I would most definitely never forget would be Peanut and Buttercup. Forget the insurance papers, forget the clothes...my dogs would be the essentials. (Dan, I'm assuming, is perfectly capable of getting himself in the car.)

What would you take with you if you had 2 minutes to pack up and evacuate your home? The rule is you can make 2 trips out to your car to carry everything. So if you take something big, that may limit your total quantity.

Church

I've really been struggling with this whole church thing. I blogged last week about how sermons bore me...how sitting passively just doesn't help me learn.

And since then I've been doing a lot of thinking about church. Dan and I love our church. We love the people. We love the authenticity - that's a big one. We love that it's not this big production. We love the general feel of God in the place. We love our couple's group.

But our couple's group only meets every other week. And we often don't get around to talking about the Bible. Which is fine, because we always have fun and good conversations. But it's just not a place for me to feel spiritually fed on a regular basis. And I fear that as more and more of the people in our group become parents, we'll become the odd ones out, holding back the group from doing parenting type things that they want and need to do. Maybe I'm wrong. But I feel like eventually we'll have to pull out of that group.

So I looked into a women's small group. But the only option I could find seems to be more large group-ish than small group-ish. And it's lecture based. Which is exactly what I'm trying to get away from. I think there might be other options if I didn't have a job...but I do. And again if it was during the work day, I'd probably be with all stay-at-home moms and be the odd woman out with no kids. So I'm not feeling like there's any weekly small group that's a good fit for me.

So, Dan and I talked about continuing to go to our couple's group but maybe I find another church to get plugged in with small groups. Which I'll probably do. But I wonder how that will impact our ministry at our church. We're excited to serve there. But will they let us with such minimal involvement in the church? I don't know.

The early church had preaching, it's true. But that wasn't the core of the church. The core of the church - what made it grow, what made it powerful - was the relationship building. It was that they lived together, ate together, supported each other, grew in faith together, shared their possessions, lived out faith together. It wasn't about going to church an hour a week and listening to someone talk. And somewhere since then, we've taken what I think is probably the least important aspect of the early church and made that the primary aspect of today's church.

I want to grow close to God. I want to do it in community with others. And I'm really frustrated and struggling to find a way to do that.

Questions

There seems to be this unwritten rule in Christianity that to ask questions of God is to lack faith. I don't think that's true.

A college professor of mine said that once when he was thinking of a lot of questions for God, someone asked him how his faith was. He replied, "I've never had more questions about God than I do right now." The person got really serious, put his hand on his shoulder, and said he'd pray for him.

"No, no," my professor replied, "my faith has never been stronger."

If we don't have questions, we probably aren't thinking very deeply about something. That's why when you apply for a job, you're supposed to have some questions ready to ask them. If you don't ask them questions, it looks bad on you. Like you don't wonder or think about things. Why, then, are we not supposed to ask questions about God?

This all came to mind as another country song rolled through my head: Clay Walker's "Just A Few Questions." In it, he asks a whole lot of questions about the injustice in the world, about his life, all sorts of things. And he says, "I don't mean to second-guess you or criticize what I don't understand...these are just a few questions I have."

Asking questions doesn't mean second-guessing God. It doesn't mean you don't trust him. It means you wonder about him. Jesus said to have faith like a child - and who asks more questions than a little kid discovering the world around him? As we discover God more, we ought to be filled with wonder, and full of questions.