Today, I turned 35. If you would have asked me twenty years ago where I thought I would be at 35, this is not the answer I would have given you. Don't get me wrong...I have come to appreciate this season of my life, and I love all that Colorado has to offer. But, I would be lying if I told you that the single life is where I want to be right now.
For my birthday, the Lord gave me a sermon that was a sweet reminder of how He has worked in my life over the past several years....and how He continues to work. Pastor Brady (LOVE HIM!) talked today about faith and perseverance in prayer. He reminded us that persistent prayer over a period of time provides us the opportunity not so much to get the things for which we ask but instead to KNOW the One from whom we ask. In other words, our prayer life is merely a journey that allows us to press in and know the character of God so that we will ultimately become more like Him.
With that said, I would like to take a few moments to focus on some of the lessons God has taught me through my singleness. The beauty of this season of life is that the Lord has provided me with TIME to focus on Him. Obviously, I cannot begin to summarize my entire journey in one blog entry, but I can't let this day pass without voicing my enormous gratitude for God's unfailing love and faithful pursuit of my heart. If He never answers another prayer, He has already done enough.
Lessons I'm learning while I wait...
1. God passionately pursues me.
2. He loves me unconditionally and with an EVERLASTING love. (Jeremiah 31:3)
3. He is my rescuer. (Psalm 91:14)
4. He is my provider...He provides TODAY what I need for TODAY, and He'll provide TOMORROW what I need for TOMORROW.
5. God carries the "former things" so that I don't have to...He will make a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland. (Isaiah 43:18-19)
6. God is always in control.
7. The God of this universe wants to spend time with ME.
8. He is patient...even when I don't deserve it.
9. His glory is what is most important.
10. Contentment can only be found in Him.
11. I must depend on Him alone.
12. Delighting myself in God only leads me to desire Him more.
13. God is good ALL the time.
14. He is faithful.
15. My faith must rest on His identity, not on His activity. (Beth Moore)
16. The goal of life is not the absence of pain, it is the presence of God and the glory of God.
17. "Abandonment means to refuse yourself the luxury of asking any questions." Oswald Chambers.
18. God's mercies are new EVERY DAY!
19. "God is not concerned about my spiritual life. He is concerned about my life." Jay Strack
20. He will do immeasurably more than I can ask or imagine. (Ephesians 3:20)
21. God can change stubbornness and a strong will into a determination to follow Him.
22. I am only a branch. I can do nothing apart from Him. (John 15:5)
23. As I search for a husband, I must make sure I am in a place where I want to be found.
24. I must trust HIS timing...not my own. I must wait for Him. (Psalm 27:14)
25. He is my hiding place.
26. My eyes must be fixed on Him alone (Hebrews 12:1-3)
27. He will complete the work He started. (Philippians 1:6)
28. How I live my life is a testimony of what I believe about God. (Experiencing God)
29. He will frequently bring me to a crisis of belief that requires faith and action. (Experiencing God)
30. He has chosen me as His witness so that I may KNOW and BELIEVE Him. (Isaiah 43:10)
31. He desires mercy more than sacrifice.
32. He is my confidence.
33. He is my Banner
34. COMPLETELY surrendering to Him brings COMPLETE freedom.
35. I am INCREDIBLY blessed!
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Can I Get a Witness?
My mom and dad have been here for the past week. They rented a cabin in the mountains about ten minutes from Woodland Park where I used to work. Thursday evening, my mom and I headed into town to grab take-out for dinner. It was about 6pm when we arrived only to find that every restaurant in town was closed...every restaurant except for The Swiss Chalet. Apparently, there is a large Swiss population residing in this tiny mountain town, and they are the only ones who like to eat dinner....AT 6PM...ON THURSDAYS!
Since I can't recall a time in my life when I had a hankering for Swiss cuisine, my mom and I chose to go with a usually reliable Subway sandwich. I steered my Toyota into the Subway parking lot and was immediately mesmerized by a picture of the new Chicken Pizzola...chicken breast and pepperoni with cheese, marinara sauce, and all the fixing's. My attention was quickly diverted when I noticed that all of the other restaurant seekers (the non-Swiss) had also made their way to Subway.
Refusing to be defeated, my mom and I took our place in line. There were two women working the counter. If I had to guess, their names were Madge and Celeste...but I really have no idea. Madge was an older woman, and Celeste could have been anywhere between the ages of 18 and 37. It was hard to tell. Neither was in a hurry to complete a sandwich order, but at least they were pleasant.
We eventually made our way to the front of the line, and Madge took my order. After destroying my Italian Herbs and Cheese loaf, she made a feeble attempt to scoop marinara sauce out of the meatball pan. Madge eventually produced enough marinara for a rotini noodle or two, but she seemed satisfied with her efforts and passed my sandwich to Celeste who did a fine job of binding up the wounded display with an assortment of vegetables.
I won't go into all the details of the check-out process, but let's just say that Celeste's brilliance was short-lived.
We then decided to quickly drive through Burger King to pick up chicken nuggets for TJ. I placed my order and drove to the window where I proceeded to pay. Unfortunately, Crazy Cashier Lady wasn't so great on the exchange, and one of my dollar bills flew through the air and landed under my back tire. She immediately began to instruct me as to how I could manipulate my body and squeeze out of my door which was wedged against the building to reach the dollar bill....the dollar that she had dropped. My mom, seeing the confusion and bewilderment on my face, began to laugh hysterically in the passenger seat. This was of no help to me.
To add insult to injury (I'm still sore from the rescue attempt), it took FOREVER to cook the nuggets...the FOUR nuggets. Every once in awhile, an employee would come to the window, look at us as if to wonder whether we recognized them from their profiles on America's Most Wanted, and then apologize for the delay. I assured one young man that he could make up for the wait by providing us with a free chocolate shake. He obliged. Two minutes later, he emerged with a chocolate shake that had the consistency of a glass of water. This wasn't a huge problem. The shake, after all, was free. But, the fact that my "frozen" treat was sloshing over the side didn't seem to be enough to convince Wonder Boy that something was terribly wrong. This sent my mom into the silent laugh.
Nearly an hour after we left the cabin, my mom and I headed back home...armed with two cold subs, four piping hot nuggets, and a large chocolate milk.
The entire evening was a series of bizarre encounters and inexplicable circumstances. But, I FINALLY had a witness....someone to testify to the unsettling nuances that seem to prevail in the state of Colorado...someone to assure me that the oddities I've tried so desperately to communicate really do exist....that the glazed stare of confusion I experience so often is, in fact, justified. I must say, I am quite relieved.
Since I can't recall a time in my life when I had a hankering for Swiss cuisine, my mom and I chose to go with a usually reliable Subway sandwich. I steered my Toyota into the Subway parking lot and was immediately mesmerized by a picture of the new Chicken Pizzola...chicken breast and pepperoni with cheese, marinara sauce, and all the fixing's. My attention was quickly diverted when I noticed that all of the other restaurant seekers (the non-Swiss) had also made their way to Subway.
Refusing to be defeated, my mom and I took our place in line. There were two women working the counter. If I had to guess, their names were Madge and Celeste...but I really have no idea. Madge was an older woman, and Celeste could have been anywhere between the ages of 18 and 37. It was hard to tell. Neither was in a hurry to complete a sandwich order, but at least they were pleasant.
We eventually made our way to the front of the line, and Madge took my order. After destroying my Italian Herbs and Cheese loaf, she made a feeble attempt to scoop marinara sauce out of the meatball pan. Madge eventually produced enough marinara for a rotini noodle or two, but she seemed satisfied with her efforts and passed my sandwich to Celeste who did a fine job of binding up the wounded display with an assortment of vegetables.
I won't go into all the details of the check-out process, but let's just say that Celeste's brilliance was short-lived.
We then decided to quickly drive through Burger King to pick up chicken nuggets for TJ. I placed my order and drove to the window where I proceeded to pay. Unfortunately, Crazy Cashier Lady wasn't so great on the exchange, and one of my dollar bills flew through the air and landed under my back tire. She immediately began to instruct me as to how I could manipulate my body and squeeze out of my door which was wedged against the building to reach the dollar bill....the dollar that she had dropped. My mom, seeing the confusion and bewilderment on my face, began to laugh hysterically in the passenger seat. This was of no help to me.
To add insult to injury (I'm still sore from the rescue attempt), it took FOREVER to cook the nuggets...the FOUR nuggets. Every once in awhile, an employee would come to the window, look at us as if to wonder whether we recognized them from their profiles on America's Most Wanted, and then apologize for the delay. I assured one young man that he could make up for the wait by providing us with a free chocolate shake. He obliged. Two minutes later, he emerged with a chocolate shake that had the consistency of a glass of water. This wasn't a huge problem. The shake, after all, was free. But, the fact that my "frozen" treat was sloshing over the side didn't seem to be enough to convince Wonder Boy that something was terribly wrong. This sent my mom into the silent laugh.
Nearly an hour after we left the cabin, my mom and I headed back home...armed with two cold subs, four piping hot nuggets, and a large chocolate milk.
The entire evening was a series of bizarre encounters and inexplicable circumstances. But, I FINALLY had a witness....someone to testify to the unsettling nuances that seem to prevail in the state of Colorado...someone to assure me that the oddities I've tried so desperately to communicate really do exist....that the glazed stare of confusion I experience so often is, in fact, justified. I must say, I am quite relieved.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Texas Proud
Okay, the storm (at least the wind and the rain) is over...and I AM TEXAS PROUD!! Of course, Geraldo did us all a favor by providing enough bloopers to keep the media busy. Thank you, Geraldo...and Weather Channel guy...GOOD STUFF!
Seriously, I am so impressed with my fellow Texans. You picked yourselves up by the bootstraps and gave the rest of the nation a good lesson on cooperation and hard work! High fives, everyone! JOB WELL DONE! You are constantly in my thoughts and prayers, and I look forward to seeing how the Lord will continue to use this for His glory. I wish I could be there with you.
Seriously, I am so impressed with my fellow Texans. You picked yourselves up by the bootstraps and gave the rest of the nation a good lesson on cooperation and hard work! High fives, everyone! JOB WELL DONE! You are constantly in my thoughts and prayers, and I look forward to seeing how the Lord will continue to use this for His glory. I wish I could be there with you.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Ike
Like many others, I am glued to my television as Fox News gives round the clock coverage of Hurricane Ike's trek through southeast Texas. I hate to admit it, but I'm a little bit jealous that I am not in Houston to enjoy the festivities. Oh, we Houstonians like to put on our concerned faces and pretend to wish away a storm. But, admit it...there is a tiny longing inside every one of us that loves the hype and secretly attempts to lure a good hurricane our direction. That is, until it actually hits and leaves us to sit in the damp, steamy darkness with nothing to do but stare at each other and consume ungodly amounts of Little Debbie snack cakes and Fritos with bean dip.
Personally, I am waiting for the "day after" media coverage. Tomorrow is when southeast Texans will do us proud. Tomorrow is when we'll point the spotlight on our most prized citizens...the lady in a muumuu who clings to her chihuahua while floating down a neighborhood street on the door of a port-o-potty, the man with three teeth sitting on the front porch next to his shotgun and donning a Clutch City t-shirt, Budweiser cap, and Wranglers cut off at the knees. We will likely witness a live interview with an unfortunate victim who sports the thickest accent and an impressive fourth grade education. He or she will reminisce about the storms of old and relive the glory days of Hurricanes Carla and Alicia. Ah, yes...tomorrow will be the day that we shine. Tomorrow, the world will know why we are Texas proud.
Personally, I am waiting for the "day after" media coverage. Tomorrow is when southeast Texans will do us proud. Tomorrow is when we'll point the spotlight on our most prized citizens...the lady in a muumuu who clings to her chihuahua while floating down a neighborhood street on the door of a port-o-potty, the man with three teeth sitting on the front porch next to his shotgun and donning a Clutch City t-shirt, Budweiser cap, and Wranglers cut off at the knees. We will likely witness a live interview with an unfortunate victim who sports the thickest accent and an impressive fourth grade education. He or she will reminisce about the storms of old and relive the glory days of Hurricanes Carla and Alicia. Ah, yes...tomorrow will be the day that we shine. Tomorrow, the world will know why we are Texas proud.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
The Sampler
It might be because I teach middle school. I'm really not sure of the reason, but I am a hopeless germaphobe. I wash my hands before every meal. I don't touch doorknobs unless absolutely necessary, and I try to steer clear of 6th grade boys after PE...okay, even before PE.
I tell you this in order to shed light on the gravity of my misfortune today. I was at Whole Foods, one of my favorite places on earth. I circled the store, taking in samples of cereal, chips, fruit, and salmon burgers before landing at the chicken kabob table. There, I found an assortment of chicken kabobs basted and seasoned in any number of herbs and spices. If I remember correctly, there were four choices. I politely reached for a toothpick and began to sample each of the delectable varieties. I closed my eyes and looked toward heaven as I savored each and every delicious bite. I then engaged in a conversation with the young lady manning the booth and even pretended I was interested in purchasing (yea, right) one of the selections. I smiled and nodded and discretely scanned the perimeter of the table in search of a place to discard my toothpick while she explained each of the options. Only then did I notice the fresh pile of toothpicks stacked neatly in a basket...but not the basket from which I had chosen my toothpick. No, my basket was a bit messier. That's right, apparently I chose my toothpick from the TRASH PILE!
Reliving the horror with you just made me to throw up in my mouth a little bit.
This happened nearly three hours ago, and I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT. I have had shortness of breath, I'm quite sure I have a rash or some other contagious disease, and I might even be pregnant. I could have any manner of medical conditions because everyone knows what kind of germs can be spread through a twice used toothpick sampler. I don't think even Whole Foods has a pill for this.
I tell you this in order to shed light on the gravity of my misfortune today. I was at Whole Foods, one of my favorite places on earth. I circled the store, taking in samples of cereal, chips, fruit, and salmon burgers before landing at the chicken kabob table. There, I found an assortment of chicken kabobs basted and seasoned in any number of herbs and spices. If I remember correctly, there were four choices. I politely reached for a toothpick and began to sample each of the delectable varieties. I closed my eyes and looked toward heaven as I savored each and every delicious bite. I then engaged in a conversation with the young lady manning the booth and even pretended I was interested in purchasing (yea, right) one of the selections. I smiled and nodded and discretely scanned the perimeter of the table in search of a place to discard my toothpick while she explained each of the options. Only then did I notice the fresh pile of toothpicks stacked neatly in a basket...but not the basket from which I had chosen my toothpick. No, my basket was a bit messier. That's right, apparently I chose my toothpick from the TRASH PILE!
Reliving the horror with you just made me to throw up in my mouth a little bit.
This happened nearly three hours ago, and I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT. I have had shortness of breath, I'm quite sure I have a rash or some other contagious disease, and I might even be pregnant. I could have any manner of medical conditions because everyone knows what kind of germs can be spread through a twice used toothpick sampler. I don't think even Whole Foods has a pill for this.
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