A Woman With A Plan (Prov 31:25)

I posted in October about "moving forward" by setting goals and making a plan to meet them. 
The question that set me off on that one was "How will your life be better next year than it is today?"

At the time, I was shocked to realize how much I'd just been "coasting" through my own life. So I set some goals. Made some plans. I discovered that I'd been afraid that planning ahead meant that in some way I was trying to do God's job. After all, Jesus explicitly said "don't worry about tomorrow." 

However, He also told us to be good stewards of our resources. Undoubtedly our time on Earth is one of our most precious resources. If we're going to use that time well, we have to have an eye to the future. 

Last week a friend asked me what my 5-year plan looked like.

Never in my life have I had a 5-year plan, unless you count graduating from high school. I don't actually think I can take credit for planning that, though. It's not like I had a choice. My parents always made it clear that I would graduate. If anything, it was their plan.

After high school I went to community college for 2 years, because I had a scholarship. 

Then I took a year off. School had always been easy for me. I wanted to really care about my education before I actually started to pay for it. The year off turned into 5. That wasn't planned. It just turned out that college was more expensive than I'd thought.


In year 2 of my "off time" I moved to WA. I was going to stay for two years, then move somewhere else (or return to CO).  I stayed in WA for 13 years.

When I finally went back to college, I had a three-year plan. Finish my degree, then get my teaching certificate (a 5th year program). I really didn't think beyond that. As I came to the end of my program I had a major meltdown over the idea of signing a contract for a year. I din't know if I could commit to working in one school, one district for that long. It took my advisor most of a box of tissues to persuade me that a school-year - 180 days - was well within my comfort zone.


180 days. 10 months. I could do anything for 10 months.With my mentor's advice ringing in my ears, I took a job in a small district I didn't expect to be a good fit.  I stayed there for 7 years.

Turns out I'm better at long-term than I thought I was.

So, now I'm thinking about my five-year plan. 
I'm writing it in pencil, because I've learned that sometimes things change in surprising ways. I know that God's the only one with a clear view of the future. I trust that His plan is the best plan. 

I also know that I can handle Him changing my plans. In October, one of the goals I set for myself was to be jogging in a 5K this spring. Then I broke my leg in December, and had to take that goal off the list (for now). It wasn't the end of the world. I'd never stopped to realize it, but one of my strengths is adapting.

Five years from now-ish... 
I'll be debt-free (except maybe that student loan).
I'll have dozens of new memories of adventures with my family. Parades. Birthdays. Dances. Soccer. TBall. Basketball. Lakes. Beaches.
I'll have a dog who loves to go walking/running with me. Loves taking car trips. Loves my nieces and nephew.
I'll be involved in my local church leadership again.

That's it so far. Not a bad start. 
There's more in my head, but I've still got to separate wishes (travel!) from plans (writing). And I know some things are totally out of my control. But in as far as I am able, I'm going to work to make the future count!

She is strong and respected and not afraid of the future. -Proverbs 31:25

Live your passions... (PS 139:14)

Last week author and speaker Keith Ferrin launched his new book 10 Tips for Liking the Bible (because believing its true is not enough). Click on the title to check it out on Amazon. (You can even look for blythegirl's review!) It's a great book. I strongly recommend it, and the study guide. In fact, I got to preview it, as part of his launch team.

Today on his blog, KeithFerrin.com, he talked about how fulfilling life is when you live your passions. I believe that. Why shouldn't I? The proof is everywhere. 

Check out "Designs By Jennie" on Facebook!

My physical therapist is great at her job, because she is passionate about healing. Yesterday, the teacher across the hall shared about a documentary she'd seen about teaching - recognizing it's a calling more than a career. I have a cousin who's made a career out of helping young women overcome obstacles and develop their self-worth. Four of my dearest friends have even found ways to support themselves through art. 

Cool, eh? Digital art! Wow. 

Of course, passions don't always come with a particular job. My mom's passion is for random people and their stories. She loves listening to them and figuring out how to make their day a little better. That's why she was great as a waitress, and why she's enjoying her new career as an LPN. I have a friend, who happens to be a teacher, but whose real passion is helping kids with cancer. She dedicates much of her spare time to supporting and fundraising for this important cause. My sister's passion is for relationships. She loves making people happy, and spends her free time crafting cute customized monkeys. One of my favorite people is passionate about helping people with dietary restrictions find the numminess that most of us take for granted.

Facebook's "Gluten Free Princess" is a foodie extraordinaire!

There is nothing quite like finding that place where you "click."
We were each made with a very unique set of skills, talents, interests, and abilities.  Every single one of us has something we care about deeply; something that makes our hearts sing with joy or our blood boil in frustration. Embracing that enriches us. 

Check out the Olympia PubCrawl Page. They do good things.

Your passion makes you... well, you. Embrace that. Even if all the other passionate, crazy people in your world are making you nuts, give yourself a minute to stop, recognize, and enjoy. Even if you can only enjoy your passion part time, or for a few minutes a day, or when everyone else is asleep, do it! Then, give thanks to the God who made you. 

Wanna make someone smile? Send 'em a Punky Monkey!

Ready? Repeat after me:
I'm good at _____________.  Other people are blessed when I am ______________. I was made to ____________. 
God is smiling right now.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well! -Psalm 139:14

Don't Look Back!

A little less than a year ago I decided to leave everything I had known for most of my adult life and move east, toward adventure, sunrise, and family.

It was a bold decision.
It was exciting.
It was a leap of faith.
It was really hard to tell my friends.

"Hi guys. I really love you. I love the way you include me in your family events. I love cheering for your kids. I love parties in your backyard. I love that you will come cook with me in the middle of the night when I'm restless. I love the way you get me. By the way... I'm leaving it all to start a new life by myself where I know no one."

Yea.
I'm a big people person. I have a lot of friends. So... had some variation on that conversation about a dozen times last June. Most times, it ended with the reassurance that if things didn't work out, I'd always be welcome back.

One friend's words really stood out. One friend refused to go that road.
He said, in essence, that I had to burn the ships. I was an explorer going to a new world, and I couldn't be looking back over my shoulder, second guessing myself all the time. I had to keep my eyes forward, looking to the horizon. If I was going to go through with this (and his wife really hoped I wouldn't), then I had to commit, fully.

I knew he was right.

In October, when I had to give up my "leave" at my old job, because it was unethical to keep that spot "open" when I had another job, I resolutely put my eyes forward, and submitted my resignation. That "leave" had been my safety net. Cutting it loose was tough.


In November & December, when I was homesick for the traditions of the life I'd known, I remembered his advice, and quit looking back. I went out searching for new traditions. I wrote about it on a post called "Home for the Holidays." I didn't find any new traditions yet, but I did have some fun.

In January, when I broke my foot, and had to beg for help with everything, I knew it would have been easier had it happened in a place where I was surrounded by long-time friends. Still, that wasn't God's timing. I've dealt with the challenges, and learned a lot about my "new world" and myself in the process.

I've grown, and realized that even with the hurdles and homesickness, I am glad I moved.

Sometime, in the last few months, I crossed a line. I don't catch myself "examining" life anymore, checking out another way, comparing it to what I knew, and weighing it out as if I have an option to rent or to buy.  Sometime in the last few months, it's settled in my heart that for now, for this season, this *is* my life. I bought in.

I like what I've learned about myself and another part of our little world.


I miss my friends, and am thankful for the modern technology that keeps me connected, and lets me share my adventures with them and share their lives even now.  My heart will always call Tacoma home. It is a beautiful, wonderful place. I will gladly take advantage of any opportunity to visit.

Maybe some day - a few more years into the future -  I might choose to move back. Not because things didn't work out. No. If I move back, it will be because I have realized that I'm ready to settle down, and there's truly no place on Earth I'd rather be.

For now, though, as I enter the last quarter of my first year in my new life, I know that I'm not done with my adventures yet. I don't know what the next year will look like (though I desperately hope crutches & casts aren't involved). I do know there's a lot to see and do yet.

I'm looking forward to it.

I know this is where I usually insert a verse... I don't really have one this week. The closest I've found was Phil.3:13, but I don't really want to "forget" what was behind, even though I am pushing toward what lies ahead. To be honest, it's an old Stephen Curtis Chapman song "Burn the Ships" that's been running through my mind. It's 1990's retro, but I've always liked it. Here's a youtube link if you don't know it.

Do you, dear friend, have a verse I should meditate on that supports this topic? Maybe through your eyes...?

A Prayer, and an Answer (Gen 2:18)

I clearly remember a spring day in my young adulthood, when I was standing at the clothesline behind my lovely brick apartment home, hanging out my laundry and praying God would send me just one good Christian friend. Most of my faith journey, to that point, had been just me and God. I read my Bible daily. I went to church regularly. I had a healthy prayer life. But I had no Christian friends. There was not one believer in my life with whom I felt close enough to pray, study, learn or celebrate. There was, at that time, no one close to me who didn't think I was at least a little bit crazy for putting so much hope and trust in ancient "legends."

Now, I am blessed to be positively surrounded by people of faith. Some of my old friends have become true brothers and sisters in Christ. I've met many more on the journey. I'm blessed by their encouragement and I rely on their prayers. Our conversations are richly seasoned with things not of this world. I'm pretty sure they don't think I'm crazy (or at least not ALL crazy).

Women of faith...together...the first Easter
discovering the empty tomb.

Since most of my readers are also these friends, it would be silly (and somewhat insulting) for me to try to write here about the incredible-ness of Easter. We rejoice today, together. Our joy has been more eloquently expressed in a hundreds of songs. The lessons of faith and redemption taught in dozens of sermons. My awe has been captured by authors far more talented than I, and shared in hundreds of books.

This morning, when I rose to get ready for church, I was overwhelmed with thankfulness for the community of believers who have become such an important part of my life. Easter - the resurrection of our Lord and Savior -  is the most important thing we have in common. In some cases the only thing. That's okay. It is more than enough.

I still pray for those in my life who do not know the Lord. How dark must this world seem without the hope of Easter, of life, of renewal, of a Kingdom beyond this world. These dear ones do not understand why we celebrate today with more than bunnies, eggs, and jelly-beans. So I pray that God will open their eyes, that Jesus will speak to their hearts, that the Spirit of truth will draw them near.

I pray, and I celebrate.
Because I know that prayers are answered. You, my friends, are proof of that.
Will you share your own story of answered prayer?

The Lord God said, "It is not good for man to be alone." - Genesis 2:18

Memory Lane (Prov. 3:3)

When was the last time you wandered down memory lane?
Who did you take with you? What did you talk about?

I got to wander down memory lane with a rarely-seen aunt this weekend. It was interesting, to hear my own memories retold from her perspective. 

I realized, in the sharing, the importance of one's point of view when it comes to personal history. Generally, when I'm wandering through the past, it's with a new friend, a beau, a stranger - someone I have to "fill in" on the events that made me, well, me.  I can't remember the last time I had a chat with someone (other than my darling sister) who was really there. Someone who might remember things a little differently. After all, even undisputed facts can have different facets - like a gemstone in the sun.

For example... I took 5 years off between earning my AA at a community college and finishing my BA at university. In that time I moved to a different state, and saved enough to avoid student loans for a while. While I was, certainly, enjoying the freedom of my early 20's, I always knew I'd go back to college sooner rather than later. I had decided to be a teacher before I was even in high school. She didn't realize any of that. She thought I had dropped out, and then reconsidered and discovered an interest in education. She praised me for getting my life back on track; for becoming responsible. I think she was genuinely surprised when I sorted it out for her. I'm not sure what she thinks of my story now that she realizes I've always been old and dull. It's interesting to consider, though.

Now, I'm becoming fascinated with my own history, and the idea of hearing how the other people in my life would describe the events that shaped our relationships. I love stories. I can't wait to hear the ones my family have to share with me.

I was reading about the Israelite's journey to Jericho recently. So many times Moses warned them to remember their past. To talk to the children. To make monuments, leave reminders, honor traditions, lest God's people forget where they came from. I don't know about your world, but mine is very disconnected from that kind of thinking.

I don't know my history - at least not any farther back than I can remember. But I want to learn. So I'll invite my family to wander down memory lane with me, while there's still time. 

Never let go of loyalty and faithfulness. Tie them around your neck; write them on your heart. -Proverbs 3:3

A Makeover with a Purpose (Acts 17:27-28)

There is a great bookstore in Portland, Oregon - Powell's City of Books. If you've been to Portland, you probably know of it. It's the kind of book store you could get lost in, for days. I honestly don't think I could go to Portland without stopping in.

I love it.

I also hate it.

As a writer, seeing all those books humbles me. Who am I to think I have an original thought? Who am I to aspire to sharing a shelf with Dickens or even Dixon? Who am I, indeed?

This is the time of year when I teach my little darlings to think about an author's purpose in writing. I show them how identifying an author's purpose will help you make greater connections to the text. First, we learn that most things are written either to inform, entertain, or persuade. Then, we go a little deeper.

Let me give you an example. You are, I hope, familiar with Dr. Seuss's Lorax. This excellent book was surely written to entertain. Yet, it has a very obvious greater purpose. The author served up a potent lesson in an entertaining package. Because of this, we all remember it.



Now, I love to write. But (you may have noticed) my writings often sound a bit like rambling. There really hadn't been a purpose shaping my content here.

A gentleman I know has dedicated his life to helping people "fall in love with God's word." He blogs, speaks, teaches, and writes all to this purpose. In fact, he's got a new book coming out soon that I'm quite excited about. I had a chance to preview it, and it's great (click here for a link to the book's launch page). Any article you read on his blog will be clearly connected to his purpose. You know what to expect when you click that link.

Did you honestly have any idea what to expect when you clicked my link today?

This blog used to be called "(In)significant thoughts." I've decided to take the advice of an old friend and start valuing myself more highly than that. My thoughts are not insignificant. They're just often disorganized, and rather ordinary. Yet, somehow everything I do, everything I am comes back to my relationship with God. Because that's the foundation of my existence.

So I gave the page a makeover, and a direction. This page is just the journal of ordinary girl, living an ordinary life, trying to make sense of it all. It's not my goal to preach, just to share my journey. If you find that even a little entertaining, informative, or persuasive, then I've accomplished my purpose.


God did this so that [we] would seek Him, and perhaps reach out and find Him, though he is not far from any of us. For in Him we live and move and have our being. -Acts 17:27-28

PS: The teacher-stuff is migrating to a separate blog. I'm hoping that will help me keep my focus. If you're a teacher, or into teaching things, check out There are No Mistakes @ http://onlythelessons.blogspot.com/.

by their love...

In honor of Valentine's Day, let me ask you a personal question.
How do you show love to your friends? (Not your spouse... I'll leave that for married bloggers to handle)!

Do you buy flowers? Candy?
Do you make cards? Or spend way too much time in the card aisle trying to find just the right words?
Do you plan a special time to spend together?
Do you hug?
Do you do "a little something extra" - like wash her car or cook his favorite meal?

Now... let me ask another.
What do you like best to receive from those who love you?
Be honest. Don't say "anything." What is it that really, really makes you grin? You know... that face-splitting, she's-spoiled-and-we-all-know-it smile you just can't dim?

Is it the same?

See... being on the slow road has given me a great chance to think about the ways people show love to their friends and neighbors. Giving love takes effort (the married people are backing me up on this right now)... even when it's "just" to your friends.

I've been incredibly blessed by people who've given of their time to help me. I know that giving time is an act of love. I couldn't "do" this, if it weren't for that generosity - the rides to and from work, to and from church... that's what I need most right now. So I'm thankful for the folks who are giving it.

Two other beautiful souls I know are recovering from major medical procedures. They can't DO anything they are used to doing. No work. No favorite hobbies. They have both been blessed beyond measure by the time their spouses, children, and grandchildren spend fussing over them.

But love doesn't come with a one-size-fits-all tag. Time isn't always the answer.

A recent divorcee I know burst into tears when someone hugged her at church. She hadn't been hugged since before her husband left... months ago. A simple touch was what she needed most, to feel like someone really cared about her.

I know another woman who, faced with a life-changing illness, found herself surrounded by plenty of  folks willing to help. However, she has savings & family, so she didn't really need help. What her family couldn't manage, they paid to have done. Unfortunately, when she didn't have anything for her friends to do, they drifted away, leaving her to fight the demons of despair and discouragement alone. All she really wants is for someone to tell her she still matters. Words of hope. Words of love.

And, if I'm being completely honest, I may need the gift of time, but it's not what makes me want to shout from the mountaintops. My favorite gift is service. I felt SUPER blessed those first few weeks, when my family reached out in so many different ways to smooth my path. Even before I was hurt, I loved it when a friend surprised me by washing my car while I was at work. Or helping me decorate my classroom.


So... this Valentine's Day, stop and chat with your neighbor. Let her know she matters.  Invite someone you haven't seen for a while out for a cup of coffee or a walk in the park. Give a friend a hug. Give a stranger a hug. Give your mother a hug. Offer to help someone with their chores, vacuum their car, or shovel their snowy driveway. Volunteer for a day of service in the community.

Step out of your comfort zone, and try a new way of showing you care. I bet it will make your day brighter.

Jesus said we needed to love our neighbors as ourselves. One of my favorite old Christian song declares "they will know we are Christians by our love" (click here to hear the Jars of Clay version).  Let's make that true.

If you haven't read it, I recommend Gary Chapman's 5 Love Languages. If you have, you probably recognized the ideas I shared here. I read the book years ago, when it was trending around book-clubs and small groups. Any content here that is too close for comfort must be really really good, because it's what stuck in my head. 

road to recovery (Matt. 25:34-40)

It's been 4 weeks today since I fell and broke my foot.

A very long 4 weeks, and this adventure is still in the beginning stages.Doc said it's two more weeks -at least- before I can start putting any weight on it. There was some talk of maybe being able to drive by the end of April. There's a lot of days and weeks between now and then. Thankfully, I'm getting pretty good at taking this journey one day at a time.

So, I'm pleased to report I'm on the road to recovery. And I've discovered there are some truly beautiful souls on this road.

Today, for instance, a teacher I barely know gave up 3 hours of her off-time on a snow day to run a very important errand for me. She's recovering from a nasty cold. Her husband, whom I've never met, joined her. Beautiful souls.

Since it is a snow day, I've had time to think. I thought I ought to update this blog (it's been 10 days, and my goal was weekly).

I've never seen my freezer
quite so full!

I've been thinking and thinking and thinking all day about how to express my gratitude to the wonderful people in my life, and I just can't find an answer. I don't have the words. How do I recognize the sacrifices of the servant-hearts that set aside their own needs for a time to help make my life easier? How can I show my gratitude to the partners who took on extra work and responsibilities to free up someone to help me? How can I ever explain how much it means to me not to face this little speedbump alone? How do I show my appreciation for the helping hands that cleaned and organized my house, filling it with good food and good cheer? How do I acknowledge the patience of the wonderful, beautiful children who joyfully did their parts to lighten my load?  How do I explain the way the cards, flowers, gifts, e-mails, and phone calls help beat back the frustration and discouragement?

My dad & mom. My sister & brother-in-law. My niece & nephew. My sister's mother-in-law. A couple of aunts. An uncle & a cousin. My grandmother. My students. My co-teachers. My principal. The pastor & his wife. My wonderful family. My dear, dear friends. So many people. So many blessings. So much to be thankful for!

I can't begin to express the depths of my gratitude. So I'm going to stop trying. I'll just say one more "THANK YOU." And then I'll share this passage of scripture that's really been on my mind the last couple days. It's longer than usual, but definitely appropriate.

^{Matthew 25: 34 -40} 

³⁴ “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. ³⁵ For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, ³⁶ I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

³⁷ “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? ³⁸ When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? ³⁹ When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

⁴⁰ “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

Thank you. Thank YOU.  Thank you. 

I am thankful for you!

Happy Birthday ...to me! (Prov. 16:9)

Last week I posted about my broken foot and how it was testing my faith.
This week, God took events that looked like problems, and turned them into blessings. Reassurances, that even in the little things, He's still there. Which is exactly what I needed.


Problem #1 - flight delay.
With my broken leg, I'm needing a lot of help. Now the baton gets passed from my fantastically patient sister to the next helper in line. The schedule: Afternoon arrival. Dinner out together to celebrate - and to get me out of the house. A little time to get familiar with the apartment and routines before bed.

Or...not! Early morning check-in revealed a flight delay.


So, plans change.

Lunch out, instead of dinner. We decided to try some local sushi. It was tasty. Even better, we had great service. We even got a free piece of "you live in the south now" fried cheesecake! Better still, we enjoyed it all with lots of laughs.

Which put us in the right frame of mind to handle problem #2 - forgotten keys.

See, it's my home, but we left in my sister's car. You can see how that might lead to a problem, can't you?Yup! A couple errands after lunch, we realized we didn't have the keys. We had to kill a few hours until a solution (in the form of my landlord) would be available.



So we decided to cash in a "reward." Which led to a haircut and style. The first truly normal thing I've done since I hurt myself.

When I got home, I even found flowers at the door! Flowers. ;-)

I feel like a princess.
Which is especially fantastic since it was my birthday!

Of course, it wouldn't have happened if everything had gone according to MY plan.
So... like my devotional this morning suggested, I'm going to stop looking at the storm. The storm will pass. I'm going to look to the light.






In his heart, a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps.  -Proverbs 16:9

Looking backward, while moving forward (Ro 8:28)

I know that's a long little title. It's perfect for this post in so many ways, though.

This is my first post of the New Year. What do we do as we start the new year? Look back at last year's failures and plan for success moving forward, right?  This isn't going to be a post about resolutions, though. I didn't make any. Except maybe to be less stubborn. Be kinder to others. Share more of myself.

The title is also perfect, because it is the answer to the question I'm hearing the most these days... "what happened?" You see, I broke my leg over Christmas break because I was doing exactly that - looking backward to say "goodbye" to someone, while moving forward out their door. Um, there was a step there. Ouch.

I'm sure there's an allegory there. I'll leave you to work it out.

It's a nasty break. My right leg. The docs and nurses were all impressed with how well I broke it. One doc said 3-6 months of healing, BEFORE rehab and PT. 6 months of not driving. At least. Right now I'm not allowed to put any weight on it at all. Suddenly I own a shower chair. Toilet rails. A walker. All because I was looking backward while moving forward. Yes, folks, walking and talking at the same time requires a certain level of skill!

However, the real reason I chose that title, is because it describes the strategy I'm using to keep my sanity as I heal. Looking backward... while moving forward.

You may remember, how in April, I decided to move away from the community I had lived in for a dozen years. In August, with God's blessing, I landed across the country in a new neighborhood.

With God's blessing.


As I struggle to move forward with the day-to-day challenges of being broken, I keep reviewing all the steps that brought me here, to this place, at this time.

I'm still confident that God blessed my move.

I also believe that nothing happens to God's people that is outside of his control. So He allowed this accident to happen this year. Last year, I made the same trip. Walked out the same door. Last year I would have been going home to that community of care. This year, I'm on my own, and my family has had to get creative to help me out. My parents. My sister. My Aunt. Help coming in from 3 different states, and none of them the one in which I live! Last year I had tons of sick leave. This year, there was barely enough to cover the immediate crisis. Last year, I would have felt - just a little - more in control.

Ha!

So I've got to believe there was a reason, or many reasons, why this accident happened this year.

So I'm looking backward. At my journal and notes and blog from last year, as I set aside the old life and took up the new. I'm remembering that the reasons I moved were to draw closer to family, and to learn to trust God-the-provider to meet my needs.

Ha, ha!

So I'm praying. And learning. And healing. And growing. And looking backward... while moving forward.

...and we know that in all things, God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. - Romans 8:28

Home, revisited. (Josh 1:9)

I know I'm overdue to post.
I was on a roll, there, writing every week - even if some of the topics were truly insignificant.
Like my last one, about what it means to go "home" for the holidays.
Then the holidays came. And I broke my leg.


That's right. 3 days after Christmas, while spreading holiday cheer with my dad, I fell out a door and broke my leg. To be more specific, my right leg. The one I need in order to drive.
To quote the folks who worked on me - I did a "good job." Everyone who had access to my x-rays or case notes was impressed with how well I broke it.

I was impressed with the care I recieved.
The ambulance drivers were friendly, composed, and calm - if not entirely coordinated. The ER nurses were helpful and reassuring. The surgeon explained things clearly, listened to my concerns, and accepted my input, respectfully. The anesthesiologist even joked with me. This might seem like no-big-deal to you, or that's-how-it-should-be, but I've seen a lot of ER's over the years (though this was my first time *on* the bed since grade-school), and I know that's not always the case. So, my compliments to the crisis team.

I was on vacation when it happened. 550+ miles from home. Visiting my parents for Christmas.
I am so thankful I was. They were amazing. My dad held my leg while we waited for the ambulance. My mom bought me dresses while I was in the hospital, since all I'd packed were pants. My brother & his fiancee brought the baby to give me hugs - even on the coldest night of the year.

Once I got out of the hospital, my dad - who is generally stuck home due to his own health concerns - was the best nurse ever! He waited on me constantly for a week. Spoiled me totally rotten, in a way I suspect he's wanted to do for years. Mom became a quite a strategist, figuring out how to wash my hair, with no chairs to put by the sink, painting my toe-nails to match my cast, packing my gear so I could travel. And thanks to my brother and his girl, that beautiful baby kept coming around.



Then, finally and yet too soon, I got my clearance to travel home.



Home, where I live independently. Home, where I've been for just under 6 months.

Home, where an acquaintance spent 2 days rescuing my car from the parking lot where I'd left it, so confident I'd be back soon.

Home, where another virtual stranger picked me up from the airport at dawn and drove me to my door.

Home, where the nearest family is 4 hours away.

Thank God my sister was able to come up and join me for a few days. She's helped me shop for the things an invalid needs, rearranged the house to be more mobility-friendly, and helped me feel not quite so lost. She also brought cute kids to give me hugs. Oh, and new wine glasses, for when I am ready to celebrate.

I look back on my decision to move here, and the hundred ways God blessed that move. I re-read my own blog from August, and really do believe He was with me, coming here, at this time.

I also believe He allowed this accident to happen this winter. Somehow this is all part of "the plan."

So I have to believe that somehow He will bring it all together for good.

Because right now, I just want to go home. Home to mom's house. Home to my sister's couch. Home to Tacoma, where I left so many wonderful, helpful friends. Home, dear readers, I have finally realized, is where you are not alone.


Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. - Joshua 1:9

(Super thanks to my friend CM who posted this verse on Facebook just when I needed it the most. Thanks, girl, for following the Spirit's leading. May you be blessed, always!).

It's beginning to look a *little* like Christmas! (Heb 11:1)

Oh, Christmas tree... how lovely are your branches.

City sidewalks, busy sidewalks, dressed in holiday style.
Silver and gold, means so much more when I see... silver and gold decorations, on every Christmas tree.

Deck the halls with boughs of holly! 'Tis the season to be jolly!

It's the most wonderful time of the year!

I truly do love Christmas. I love cards. Breezy little news updates from all corners of my life.  I love the songs. And that everyone sings, so no-one notices my off-key contribution to the glee. I love the treats. The cookies. The candies. The soups. The amazing entrees. Did I mention the cookies? I love the pervasive attitude of good will (even in crowded stores).

I especially love the decorations. Twinkling lights. Green, red, and white everywhere. Priceless handmade treasures alongside carefully crafted elegance; joy oozing out of every nook and cranny. When I (fairly ruthlessly) eliminated piles of stuff prior to my move this year, there were still 4 storage bins full of Christmas stuff I had to keep. 

However, this year I've opted for minimal decorations.

One small (crochet) tree. One nativity. One Santa doll (not even my favorite). One stocking. One book. Some movies. 

I have a lot of reasons.

I'm working an average of 11 hours/day, and worrying about work more than I should when I'm "off." I'm honestly exhausted most of the time lately. The idea of unpacking those boxes (and then repacking them in 4 weeks) is more than I can take right now.

Besides, no-one comes to my place. Ever. There's no reason to. I'm not even (generally) home on weekends. I'll be visiting family for the big day. Not counting the hours spent sleeping or getting ready for work in the morning, I calculate that I'll be home about 120 hours this month - total. 

Mainly, though, I'm not decorating my house because it doesn't feel like home.

I'm staying there. My bed is there. But I know it's temporary. More so than the other rentals I've occupied, because I know the owner is planning to sell. In the past, it was always up to me how long I stayed. If I loved a place, I always believed I could stay there, indefinitely. This time, I know that's not the case.

Which gets me thinking about heaven.

One of the most important tenets of my faith is that Earth is not all there is. We have a home that is unimaginably greater than this world.

More fantastic than the fabulous food served at holiday feasts.
More comfortable than a crackling fire and cozy socks on a chilly day.

More thrilling than the moment that long-anticipated, beautifully wrapped gift beneath the elegant tree is finally opened.
More awe-inspiring than the multitudes of stars, shimmering in the night sky, like Christmas lights in stores, on streets, on houses, in trees.

More joyous than off-key carolers proclaiming the good news of Jesus' birth on every street corner.
More wonderful than a phone call or Skype with someone dear who is far away.
More heart-warming than the love we so imperfectly try to show our families and friends.

More incredible, even,  than the magic that keeps Santa on schedule and in the air, year after year.
More blissful than the laughter of children, building snowmen, and hoping for magic.

Ok. Maybe not greater than children laughing. But at least as good. 

Merry Christmas, everyone. And whether your decorations are big or small, may they remind you of the hope we have of better yet to come!

To have faith is to be sure of the things we hope for, to be certain of the things we cannot see. -Hebrews 11:1

Wild Weather (Is 6:20)

This picture was from a good article on CNBC.com (click to follow link).

The experts are calling it Frankenstorm. Hurricane Sandy meets Nor'easter (hot wind + cold wind) during a full moon. I think the nickname is quite funny, but I know that it's really nothing to laugh at.

I'm as ready as I can be. I have an emergency radio.The flashlights all have new batteries. All my water jugs are full, I have extra water in the cupboard, and there's plenty of peanut butter, granola bars, and apples. The first aid kits are stocked (all except the neosporin - somehow I forgot to replenish that). My phone and computer are living on their chargers.

I live in a basement, though. So half of my supplies are in the car, just in case. The gas tank is full. My sister lives safely south of the "affected area," so I have a plan. 

Having just moved, I'll admit, I didn't have my emergency stuff in order; I had to go buy water Friday night. Along with about half the city, it seems, because the stores were nearly sold out of water. And bread. And beer (not that I wanted beer - I prefer just about anything else! - but I couldn't help noticing the empty shelves). My sister assures me that if I'd checked the diapers aisle that would've been low, too.

Which got me to thinking about preparedness. In my entire adult life, I've never experienced a real disaster (thankfully). I spent most of my adult life in the western Puget Sound region; a region naturally protected from too much trauma - other than the occasional mild earthquake. This past January, we endured "snowpocalypse," a massive snow and ice storm that kept the city shut down for a week. I was without power for 3 days, some friends were out longer. My main concerns during that event were 1) keeping icy branches from crushing my car and 2) cabin-fever! While living in Denver, I also experienced a couple of genuine so-called "blizzards," but a blizzard in the city looks much different than the ones you might imagine from Little House on the Prarie. All that to say, I've had no reason to be prepared.

But I (sortof) was. Ever since my first perceptible earthquake (2001) - I've had an "emergency kit." Just in case. I generally rotate the goods in it with the seasons, just to keep things fresh. So I don't really understand the shoppers who clean the shelves at the last minute. They can't all be new to town. They can't ALL have just finished unpacking and setting up a new life. They live here. There was a big wind storm here this summer. It knocked out power to parts of VA for over a week. Maybe they used up their supplies then. Maybe they should've stocked up again after that?

By Courtney Carmody, via Flickr

Which reminded me: Jesus says "no man knows the day or the hour" (Matthew 24:36) of His return. He even told a story about women, waiting for their husbands to return from a deployment, during a storm, and not having batteries in their flashlights (ok, it wasn't exactly like that, but it could have been - Matthew 25). When the end of the world finally arrives, we won't have days to prepare. We won't have alarms and storm trackers and friends and neighbors calling to be sure we have everything we need. When the end of this world of pain and suffering finally comes, it will be in the blink of an eye. 

So we need to be ready, and we need to reach out to our friends and neighbors NOW to help them be ready, because we love them, and we want them to be safe. So call someone. Share the good news.
The end *is* coming. Let's get ready together.

"Your days of grief will come to an end. I, the Lord, will be your eternal light." -Isaiah 6:20

4-3-2-1 (Prov 3:5-6)

A little more than 10 weeks ago I decided to move across the country. This is the 4th entry in a somewhat belated journal about my adventure.

As I mentioned, last time, in order to make such a big move, there were a few important things I needed to figure out. 1)      I’d need a job. 2)      I’d need a home. 3)      I’d need to figure out how to get my stuff to my new home.

Option 1: Get rid of all my stuff and start over.
This option was attractive for its elegant simplicity. No fuss, no muss. Sometime, I just might write about the three times I've done exactly that. Stuff, after all, is just stuff. So I took inventory: one well-loved couch & armchair. A beautiful bedroom set that I love. Books. Some shelves - both homemade and put-together-from-boxes (not nearly enough for the books, though).  Lovely things, but it's not like I they were antiques or heirlooms. I didn't even have a kitchen table or dishes. My treasures have always been my relationships.

---And, it turns out, the mementos of those relationships. When I sat down to inventory my life, I found just a few things I couldn't part with (or digitize).

My hope chest (custom made for me by the men in my family).

My scrapbooks (and scrapbooks in progress). Together these hold my most cherished memories.

My journal-boxes (which fill the hope chest). Journals, creative writing, playbills, graduation announcements, and other assorted mementos (and special jewelry) representing milestones in my life and the lives of those I love.

If these things were taken from me by a fire or flood, I would have to deal with it. But I could never choose to get rid of them. And since they wouldn't fit in my car anyway, selling the rest of the stuff would be foolish.

Option 2: Drive a moving van myself.
This is, after all, how my family usually moves. Rent the big white truck. Load it. Drive it. Unload it.
Unload it.
That might be a problem. See, on the loading end, I was pretty sure I could arrange for help. Since I knew no one in VA, unloading would be all me. Imagine, please, me, myself, and I moving a long horizontal dresser. Or a hope chest. Or a couch. All alone.
Yea. Not really an option.


Option 3: Hire movers
This was stressful, because it was the unknown option. I don't do well with unknowns. It was a little more expensive than renting a moving van (but not really, if I had to hire muscle to help at my destination).

I did my research, and I found out that really there's not much a customer can do beyond choosing a reputable moving company. Other than that, it's all out of your hands. Which is, after all, the point.

So, I decided to hire movers.
I got estimates.
I arranged dates.
I gave notice to my landlord.
My roommate and I started packing.







You may have noticed that I skipped #2: find a home. Um...yea. Initially, I thought I could find a place with a short term lease by doing my research online. In the 21st century, it should be easy enough to use search engines and satelite maps to start looking for apartments. Once I had a job and a zipcode, I was sure I could at least get some ideas, find safety data for neighborhoods, read reviews. With any luck I could call some managers and be pretty set before I arrived.

So I started to do all that. I made lists, and found links. Then I took a break and helped my roommate in WA find her a new place. She began her search exactly as I planned to begin mine - online. Together we went to check out some of her prospects in this city we'd lived in for 13 years.

Have you seen that commercial for ... actually, I don't even know what it's for. It ends with the "French model." Here's a link to a shortened youtube clip.  Yea.

My point is this: the internet is good for many things, but for me, at any rate, finding a new home long-distance is not one of them. We were suckered into looking at some pretty awful places in a city we knew really well. (She did find a cute place, by the way). I found myself imagining all the horrors I might get myself into if I tried to follow through on my plan. So, I gave up the internet search, and once again, found myself praying that the Lord would provide. Knowing that could mean anything. Confident I would be taken care of.

I packed up (with the help of MANY fabulous friends).
The movers came.
I turned in my keys.
And stepped out in faith.

I arrived in my new town on a Thursday morning, with no clue where I was going to live.
Friday evening I had a landlord.
Sunday I had a lease.
Monday I moved in.

My (front) door. Welcome.

The house. I have the basement.

The "across the street" neighbors.

I don't know you, but I call that a miracle.

Do you want to know the very best part?
The new apartment came with a kitchen table. And bookcases. My very own golden fleece, right there in my empty new apartment. (Not sure what I'm talking about? Check out Gideon's story in the Bible). I hadn't even asked for reassurance, but God provided it for me anyway.

Because He knows my heart, and knows that I tend to worry, doubt, and second-guess.
But, as I sit at my table and type, I'm learning to trust. How could I not?

Just over 10 weeks ago I decided to completely rearrange my life. With little savings, in a bad economy, I decided to move across the country to a state where I didn't know a single person, for no better reason than that I wanted to. Anyone with any sense will tell you that this should NEVER have worked out. Yet, it did. It did.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make straight your paths. -Proverbs 3:5-6