I was having lunch with a friend last week, and she asked if I ever felt as though I was being swept up in the current of life. I was thankful for her question because it perfectly illustrated my journey over the past few months. There have been times throughout my life when I have taken deliberate steps toward a particular goal or decision. Then, there have been situations where I have felt as though I was simply swept into the current...where I have eventually looked back and thought to myself, "What in the world just happened?" This is one of those times.
When I planned my move to Colorado Springs, it was a long process that required nearly a year of preparation and prayer. At every step of my journey, God confirmed that I was headed in the right direction. I never feared my move here, and I never worried that I was making the wrong decision. It wasn't always easy, but I knew it was right.
Today, I find myself at the end of my time here in Colorado. I will be moving back to Texas at the end of end of next month to take a job at a new middle school in Cy-Fair. While I am excited about my job and the idea of being close to the people I love most in the world, I don't want to leave Colorado. I have prayed for the Lord to keep me here...to throw a boulder in the stream that would change my course, but that doesn't seem to be His plan. I feel as though I have been swept into the current, and all I know to do at this point is to hang on and follow God's lead.
I am not dreading my move to Texas. I love Texas, and I love Texans (and I love that I can get Blue Bell, Tex Mex, and a good pedicure on just about every street corner in Texas). But, my time in Colorado has provided me with an opportunity to focus on my relationship with the Lord with few distractions. I have just begun to learn what it means to trust Him, to worship Him, and to rest in Him. I can stare at the mountains for hours and get lost in their Creator...His enormity, His vastness, and His greatness. I am enveloped by His beauty every single day, and I have never gotten over it.
Journeying into the familiar is more frightening to me than stepping into the unknown because it is in the familiar that I tend to trust myself. Perhaps, that is why the Lord led me into a current that is noticeably uncontrollable. Maybe I needed to be reminded that an essential part of trust is the acknowledgment that I am not in control. Whatever the case may be, this I do know...the God who controls my course is the same God who controls the river, so there is no safer place than when I am swept into the current of life.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Kari's Big Day
When I moved here a few years ago, I prayed that the Lord would provide me with at least one close single friend. He did. I met Kari almost immediately after I moved here at a Bible Study across town. As it turned out, we "just so happened" to live less than a mile from each other. We have spent countless hours shopping, talking, running, exercising, eating, hiking, laughing, worshiping, and praying together. Kari has been one of my greatest blessings in Colorado, and I can't imagine this adventure without her. Yesterday, Kari got married.
A few months ago, Kari asked if I would be willing to carry a walkie talkie at the wedding to help coordinate the wedding party during the processional. Feeling somewhat empowered by the idea of carrying a two way radio at a ceremonial event, I enthusiastically agreed. However, somewhere along the way I was promoted to the role of "wedding coordinator". I'm not really sure when that happened or why it did because have I mentioned that I've never actually coordinated a wedding...or planned one?
I'll admit to you that I didn't take my new found responsibilities too seriously, especially after learning that the reception would be at the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo. But....as it turns out, I really was expected to provide believable answers to complicated questions at the rehearsal on Thursday. Fortunately, my job as a middle school teacher has provided me with a number of opportunities to fabricate answers and then speak them with authority.
In spite of an incompetent wedding coordinator, the ceremony did manage to flow quite smoothly. Kari chose a picture perfect Colorado day for an outdoor wedding, and everyone and everything looked absolutely beautiful.
After the wedding, we had about an hour and a half before the official start of the reception. I had hiked quite a few hills in the hours leading up to the ceremony, so I decided to swing by my condo and clean up a bit before heading to the zoo. I also wanted to change into my khaki shorts and white button down shirt. And safari hat.
I rode to the reception with my friends, Brian and Chris, who had both been in charge of distributing driving directions at the wedding. Of course, navigating our way to a zoo we had all visited at least once seemed to be such a simple task that we chose to disregard the map and take a shortcut.
This is a picture taken from the inside of a mountain along our "shortcut" route. Yes, what you see is a dirt road. And...yes, I'm pretty sure we were in the middle of the national forest during at least part of our journey. We considered turning around a time or two but chose instead to forge ahead and hope that we didn't land at the top of Pike's Peak. The good news is that we discovered some new hiking trails and waterfalls and even spotted some wildlife along the way. The bad news is that the wedding coordinator arrived with the flowers for the cake table approximately forty-five minutes after the start of the reception.
Chris and me
Brian and me
After dinner, we had the opportunity to continue our pre-zoo wildlife adventure with a tour of the "Into the Wild" section of the zoo.
We also had the opportunity to ride the carousel after dinner. But, apparently the wedding coordinator's duties spill into the reception, so I spent the rest of the evening cutting cake and pretending to be in charge.
Congratulations, Barry and Kari! Thank you for including me in your special day. I wish you both the very best in your new life together, and I look forward to watching the Lord work in and through you in the years to come. May you be richly blessed.
A few months ago, Kari asked if I would be willing to carry a walkie talkie at the wedding to help coordinate the wedding party during the processional. Feeling somewhat empowered by the idea of carrying a two way radio at a ceremonial event, I enthusiastically agreed. However, somewhere along the way I was promoted to the role of "wedding coordinator". I'm not really sure when that happened or why it did because have I mentioned that I've never actually coordinated a wedding...or planned one?
I'll admit to you that I didn't take my new found responsibilities too seriously, especially after learning that the reception would be at the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo. But....as it turns out, I really was expected to provide believable answers to complicated questions at the rehearsal on Thursday. Fortunately, my job as a middle school teacher has provided me with a number of opportunities to fabricate answers and then speak them with authority.
In spite of an incompetent wedding coordinator, the ceremony did manage to flow quite smoothly. Kari chose a picture perfect Colorado day for an outdoor wedding, and everyone and everything looked absolutely beautiful.
After the wedding, we had about an hour and a half before the official start of the reception. I had hiked quite a few hills in the hours leading up to the ceremony, so I decided to swing by my condo and clean up a bit before heading to the zoo. I also wanted to change into my khaki shorts and white button down shirt. And safari hat.
I rode to the reception with my friends, Brian and Chris, who had both been in charge of distributing driving directions at the wedding. Of course, navigating our way to a zoo we had all visited at least once seemed to be such a simple task that we chose to disregard the map and take a shortcut.
This is a picture taken from the inside of a mountain along our "shortcut" route. Yes, what you see is a dirt road. And...yes, I'm pretty sure we were in the middle of the national forest during at least part of our journey. We considered turning around a time or two but chose instead to forge ahead and hope that we didn't land at the top of Pike's Peak. The good news is that we discovered some new hiking trails and waterfalls and even spotted some wildlife along the way. The bad news is that the wedding coordinator arrived with the flowers for the cake table approximately forty-five minutes after the start of the reception.
Chris and me
Brian and me
After dinner, we had the opportunity to continue our pre-zoo wildlife adventure with a tour of the "Into the Wild" section of the zoo.
We also had the opportunity to ride the carousel after dinner. But, apparently the wedding coordinator's duties spill into the reception, so I spent the rest of the evening cutting cake and pretending to be in charge.
Congratulations, Barry and Kari! Thank you for including me in your special day. I wish you both the very best in your new life together, and I look forward to watching the Lord work in and through you in the years to come. May you be richly blessed.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
8th Grade Trip 2009
I returned from the Goodson Middle School annual 8th grade trip a few days ago. As always, I had a complete blast and came home absolutely exhausted. Our trip started in Washington D.C. then continued to Hershey, Amish Country, and New York City. This year, my trip concluded with a bonus stay in Minneapolis courtesy of Northwest Airlines and their broken airplane.
After five days in four cities and three hotels with seventy-five eighth graders, I was very ready to be home. As you can imagine, I was less than thrilled to learn that I would be spending an extra night in a hotel. Wanting to get at least one step closer to home, I chose to take a later flight to Minneapolis and spend the night there instead of riding it out an additional day in Queens.
Goodness knows that I hold myself to a relatively high standard when it comes to airplane etiquette, but I was past the point of caring when I boarded the plane five hours after my scheduled departure. I fell asleep as soon as I slid into my seat and only woke up to enjoy a cup of cold water and a package of peanuts. To be honest, I really wasn't interested in food or drink at that point in my journey. I'm not sure what prompted me to even wake up long enough to partake of the airplane delicacy, but I did. I do remember struggling to appear as if I was alert enough to be feeding myself. I'm quite sure I failed to pull it off. Certainly, nothing about me was very appealing at the time.
When the plane landed around midnight, I was deep in the throes of a restless night's sleep but managed to make a grand entrance into the airport when I lost my footing on a misplaced rug. Fortunately, my carry-on suitcase provided me enough support to regain my balance. I might have been embarrassed under normal circumstances, but at that point I was too tired to concern myself with the cares of others.
I somehow navigated my way to the ticket desk where I retrieved my hotel and meal vouchers and then stumbled through the airport to the hotel shuttle. My shuttle driver, who had apparently just arrived from the year 1974, was clearly oblivious to my pathetic state of affairs and attempted to carry on a meaningful conversation with me throughout our fifteen minute ride to the hotel. When the front desk called to alert him of a security situation, he informed me that his job also included night time security guard and coffee barista...and from what I gathered in our seemingly endless conversation, "hotel historian".
After a brief stop to pick up my key at the front desk, I headed to my room only to be greeted by the overwhelming stench of body odor. Considering my journey to that point, I did check to see if it was my own. It wasn't. So, I proceeded to engage in some sort of incoherent conversation with myself where I questioned my justification in requesting another room. My high maintenance self won, as it usually does, so I called the clerk at the front desk to notify him of the situation. When I arrived downstairs to claim my new room assignment, he laughed and informed me that maintenance workers had been in my room. Come to find out, guests had complained of the smell all week. Feeling somewhat validated and equally puzzled by the fact that the scent from a human being can linger that long, I made my way to my new room and finally went to bed.
After a restful four hours of sleep, I caught the shuttle back to the airport. I won't go into my whole security line fiasco, but suffice it to say that Homeland Security has likely opened a file on me. Eventually, I found my gate and boarded what I hoped would be an uneventful flight to Colorado Springs.
As luck would have it, I was seated next to a fourteen foot cowboy who was sporting a plaid button-down and a purple bolo tie. Since his shoulders were too broad to fit within the parameters of his own seat, he chose to share mine and I was forced to shift a good portion of my tired self into the aisle. It would be too long and painful to paint an accurate picture of my unusual seating configuration, but know that I considered requesting compensation for the shoulder abuse I sustained throughout the duration of our flight.
One of the many highlights of my trip was when the flight attendant drove her drink cart into my arm and then tactfully informed that I was sitting in the aisle. Apparently, her critical thinking skills failed to alert her to the fact that Cowboy Dan had left me with nowhere else to go. She was also short on solutions when the tall man's cup of coffee found its way into my lap. Fortunately, he was kind enough to offer his spare bandana so I could clean up the mess.
Exhausted,wet, and with minimal fanfare, I finally arrived safely at the Colorado Springs airport. Give me another week and a few shots of whiskey, and I think I would be willing to do it all over again.
B.O.'s new house. "YES WE CAN!"
The FDR Memorial. Apparently, the sound of rushing water really can make you have to go to the bathroom.
SWEET kids!
These girls were obviously overwhelmed by the images of the Great Depression. I really think they got it.
Only an illusion
I could have used these on my trip home!
Putt Putt Golf at Hershey Lodge. I'm not really sure where the kids were at the time.
Like the Israelites before they entered the Promised Land...
Notice the New Year's Ball just above the lights that say "2009". As it turns out, items really are smaller than they appear on TV.
Again...only an illusion
The Seinfeld Restaurant
In front of the bridge where Kevin met the bird lady...
After five days in four cities and three hotels with seventy-five eighth graders, I was very ready to be home. As you can imagine, I was less than thrilled to learn that I would be spending an extra night in a hotel. Wanting to get at least one step closer to home, I chose to take a later flight to Minneapolis and spend the night there instead of riding it out an additional day in Queens.
Goodness knows that I hold myself to a relatively high standard when it comes to airplane etiquette, but I was past the point of caring when I boarded the plane five hours after my scheduled departure. I fell asleep as soon as I slid into my seat and only woke up to enjoy a cup of cold water and a package of peanuts. To be honest, I really wasn't interested in food or drink at that point in my journey. I'm not sure what prompted me to even wake up long enough to partake of the airplane delicacy, but I did. I do remember struggling to appear as if I was alert enough to be feeding myself. I'm quite sure I failed to pull it off. Certainly, nothing about me was very appealing at the time.
When the plane landed around midnight, I was deep in the throes of a restless night's sleep but managed to make a grand entrance into the airport when I lost my footing on a misplaced rug. Fortunately, my carry-on suitcase provided me enough support to regain my balance. I might have been embarrassed under normal circumstances, but at that point I was too tired to concern myself with the cares of others.
I somehow navigated my way to the ticket desk where I retrieved my hotel and meal vouchers and then stumbled through the airport to the hotel shuttle. My shuttle driver, who had apparently just arrived from the year 1974, was clearly oblivious to my pathetic state of affairs and attempted to carry on a meaningful conversation with me throughout our fifteen minute ride to the hotel. When the front desk called to alert him of a security situation, he informed me that his job also included night time security guard and coffee barista...and from what I gathered in our seemingly endless conversation, "hotel historian".
After a brief stop to pick up my key at the front desk, I headed to my room only to be greeted by the overwhelming stench of body odor. Considering my journey to that point, I did check to see if it was my own. It wasn't. So, I proceeded to engage in some sort of incoherent conversation with myself where I questioned my justification in requesting another room. My high maintenance self won, as it usually does, so I called the clerk at the front desk to notify him of the situation. When I arrived downstairs to claim my new room assignment, he laughed and informed me that maintenance workers had been in my room. Come to find out, guests had complained of the smell all week. Feeling somewhat validated and equally puzzled by the fact that the scent from a human being can linger that long, I made my way to my new room and finally went to bed.
After a restful four hours of sleep, I caught the shuttle back to the airport. I won't go into my whole security line fiasco, but suffice it to say that Homeland Security has likely opened a file on me. Eventually, I found my gate and boarded what I hoped would be an uneventful flight to Colorado Springs.
As luck would have it, I was seated next to a fourteen foot cowboy who was sporting a plaid button-down and a purple bolo tie. Since his shoulders were too broad to fit within the parameters of his own seat, he chose to share mine and I was forced to shift a good portion of my tired self into the aisle. It would be too long and painful to paint an accurate picture of my unusual seating configuration, but know that I considered requesting compensation for the shoulder abuse I sustained throughout the duration of our flight.
One of the many highlights of my trip was when the flight attendant drove her drink cart into my arm and then tactfully informed that I was sitting in the aisle. Apparently, her critical thinking skills failed to alert her to the fact that Cowboy Dan had left me with nowhere else to go. She was also short on solutions when the tall man's cup of coffee found its way into my lap. Fortunately, he was kind enough to offer his spare bandana so I could clean up the mess.
Exhausted,wet, and with minimal fanfare, I finally arrived safely at the Colorado Springs airport. Give me another week and a few shots of whiskey, and I think I would be willing to do it all over again.
B.O.'s new house. "YES WE CAN!"
The FDR Memorial. Apparently, the sound of rushing water really can make you have to go to the bathroom.
SWEET kids!
These girls were obviously overwhelmed by the images of the Great Depression. I really think they got it.
Only an illusion
I could have used these on my trip home!
Putt Putt Golf at Hershey Lodge. I'm not really sure where the kids were at the time.
Like the Israelites before they entered the Promised Land...
Notice the New Year's Ball just above the lights that say "2009". As it turns out, items really are smaller than they appear on TV.
Again...only an illusion
The Seinfeld Restaurant
In front of the bridge where Kevin met the bird lady...
Saturday, June 6, 2009
I Still Hate Dressy Shoes
I managed to dig up a bit of photographic evidence to prove my long standing hatred for dressy shoes. As you can see, there are only three children in this picture...so this obviously goes back a few years. As the story goes, I was not at all happy about the fact that I had to wear my black dress shoes to the family photo shoot. Allegedly, I cried a few tears (or had a meltdown...whatever) which caused me to arrive at the Olan Mills studio looking as if I had just gone a few rounds with Muhammed Ali. Unfortunately, the color has changed over time thereby erasing the red circles around my eyes, but know this...the scars still run deep.
That aside...
Is anyone else bothered by the fact that my entire family, with the exception of Tara, has the same hairstyle?
Friday, June 5, 2009
"Fight Yellow Teeth"
I was reading an article online when this picture emerged on my screen along with an add for teeth-whitening. Now, I'm no dentist, but I think I can speak with confidence when I say that this individual has more problems than a few Crest white strips is going to fix. For starters, let's lay off the banana flavored snow cones and think about purchasing a tube of toothpaste...and a little floss perhaps.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Am I Too Young to Shop at the SAS Shoe Factory?
I decided to take a break from my not-so-busy summer schedule by shopping for shoes today. Unlike most girls, I do not enjoy walking the mall in search of the perfect pair of shoes. As I have mentioned before, I only like clothing and footwear that provide comfort and warmth. These criteria have worked well for me here in Colorado Springs where a person can transition from the workplace to a hiking trail without changing their wardrobe. Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure my Chaco's won't be sufficient when I head to the theater in New York next week.
My goal today was to purchase a simple black sandal with enough of a heel to make my calves look thin and and my legs look shapely. As it turns out, they don't make heels quite that high. And, as it turns out, I can't walk in a heel much higher than a quarter of an inch. Couple that with the fact that I hate uncomfortable shoes, and you can begin to see my dilemma.
To make matters worse, I have a ridiculous list of shoe fetishes that makes shopping for footwear an impossibility. For one, I have no tolerance for toe cleavage. I blame this on my Southern Baptist roots. And Barack Obama. Number two, I don't like shoes that cause my toes to squirt out the end as if they are a party to some sort of Play-Doh Fun Factory event. Not even a toe ring can make that look right. Lastly, I simply can't enjoy a sandal where the heel causes the weight of my entire body to rest solely on the straps between the little piggies that went to market and the little piggies that stayed home. The basic law of physics tells me I'm right on this one. Actually, I have never stepped foot into a physics class...but if I had, it would have been in a pair of running shoes.
As you might imagine, my shopping trip only served to solidify my disdain for dressy footwear. I do plan to head out again tomorrow in the hopes that shoe manufacturers across the country have heard my plea for a comfortable dress shoe. Until then, I'm open to your suggestions.
My goal today was to purchase a simple black sandal with enough of a heel to make my calves look thin and and my legs look shapely. As it turns out, they don't make heels quite that high. And, as it turns out, I can't walk in a heel much higher than a quarter of an inch. Couple that with the fact that I hate uncomfortable shoes, and you can begin to see my dilemma.
To make matters worse, I have a ridiculous list of shoe fetishes that makes shopping for footwear an impossibility. For one, I have no tolerance for toe cleavage. I blame this on my Southern Baptist roots. And Barack Obama. Number two, I don't like shoes that cause my toes to squirt out the end as if they are a party to some sort of Play-Doh Fun Factory event. Not even a toe ring can make that look right. Lastly, I simply can't enjoy a sandal where the heel causes the weight of my entire body to rest solely on the straps between the little piggies that went to market and the little piggies that stayed home. The basic law of physics tells me I'm right on this one. Actually, I have never stepped foot into a physics class...but if I had, it would have been in a pair of running shoes.
As you might imagine, my shopping trip only served to solidify my disdain for dressy footwear. I do plan to head out again tomorrow in the hopes that shoe manufacturers across the country have heard my plea for a comfortable dress shoe. Until then, I'm open to your suggestions.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Croquet, Anyone?
Today is the first Monday that I did not have to wake up to go to school. Unfortunately, my upstairs neighbor is unaware of my summertime sleeping habits and was nice enough to pound out a wake up call at 5:40am this morning. I love her. At 7am, my dreams of sleeping in were officially crushed when I received a phone call that someone would be showing my condo at 8:30. With this news, I was up for good.
I had hoped to spend some time hiking while my condo was occupied, but the weather refused to cooperate with my plans. Instead, I threw on some clothes and headed for SuperTarget because...is there any better way to waste time? I think not. On my way out of my condo complex, I caught site of a couple in the midst of some sort of meditation ritual on their patio. Odd...but, whatever. I drove on and began to reflect back on another interesting scene I witnessed yesterday at a friend's house.
After church, Kari and I went to Whole Foods for lunch and groceries and then headed back to her townhome so I could help her with some IT issues. Actually, she just needed to know how to create a playlist on iTunes, but I am rarely called out for any sort of technical assistance. I'm going to milk this for what it's worth. Since the playlist is for her wedding ceremony, I've requested to be credited on the program as "IT Support".
Anyhow, as we walked into Kari's house, I was immediately captured by an event that was taking place outside her back window. Apparently, Anne of Green Gables had flown into town to play a quick game of croquet in the courtyard behind Kari's living room. I wish I was kidding, but a teenage girl sporting some sort of prairie dress and a straw hat was in the midst of an intense competition with her sister and father. I attempted to take pictures, but the glare of the window created a ghostlike image leaving me to wonder if what I was seeing was actually real.
I watched in awe as I was taken back to the happenings of late 19th century America and wondered if perhaps this family was unaware that time had moved on without them.
Later that afternoon, I went home, put on my bonnet and watched an episode of Little House on the Prairie. I kid. I didn't wear my bonnet. Clearly, I'm in a position to judge.
I had hoped to spend some time hiking while my condo was occupied, but the weather refused to cooperate with my plans. Instead, I threw on some clothes and headed for SuperTarget because...is there any better way to waste time? I think not. On my way out of my condo complex, I caught site of a couple in the midst of some sort of meditation ritual on their patio. Odd...but, whatever. I drove on and began to reflect back on another interesting scene I witnessed yesterday at a friend's house.
After church, Kari and I went to Whole Foods for lunch and groceries and then headed back to her townhome so I could help her with some IT issues. Actually, she just needed to know how to create a playlist on iTunes, but I am rarely called out for any sort of technical assistance. I'm going to milk this for what it's worth. Since the playlist is for her wedding ceremony, I've requested to be credited on the program as "IT Support".
Anyhow, as we walked into Kari's house, I was immediately captured by an event that was taking place outside her back window. Apparently, Anne of Green Gables had flown into town to play a quick game of croquet in the courtyard behind Kari's living room. I wish I was kidding, but a teenage girl sporting some sort of prairie dress and a straw hat was in the midst of an intense competition with her sister and father. I attempted to take pictures, but the glare of the window created a ghostlike image leaving me to wonder if what I was seeing was actually real.
I watched in awe as I was taken back to the happenings of late 19th century America and wondered if perhaps this family was unaware that time had moved on without them.
Later that afternoon, I went home, put on my bonnet and watched an episode of Little House on the Prairie. I kid. I didn't wear my bonnet. Clearly, I'm in a position to judge.
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