I need boxing gloves

I’m prepping for a fight.  Even though I have three big tough brothers (yep, sucking up in case any of them ever reads this) I don’t know how to fight.  I couldn’t throw a punch if my life depended on it.  Maybe I’ll need to call one of them in for a little tag-team action.    If I was a girl who liked to play the odds, I’d bet that I’m going to get my socks rocked.

Now, who is it that I will be fighting?  24 year old, “professional,” Christian women don’t fight, right?  Truth, fight might be a bit dramatic of a term for what I’m prepping for.  My fight is going to take place in the calming scenario of my couch, with candles burning, pen and journal in hand.  I’ll be fighting against myself, my will and stubbornness in fact.  I never learned to punch and jab, but I did pick up some pig-headedness along the way.  I’ve been stewing in stubbornness for months now.

This fighting analogy emerged last night with the Ecclesia Leadership team.  I said that I was tired of fighting to be happy.  We discussed what it means to go to the mat with God, to really hash out our frustrations with him.  Everyone kept telling me that its good to fight.  I had my arms crossed, and all the while I was thinking “When I said I was tired of fighting, I meant I wanted to hang my gloves neatly on a hook by the door as I walked out. “  Classic fight or flight response.  When the catacholamines hit the floor, I like to fly.  I admitted I don’t know how to float like a butterfly, or sting like a bee, and I mean that in the sense of a spiritual fight as well.

So maybe this fight just requires me to lay down and surrender.  I could really hang up my gloves.

Mosquito attack

So I’ve recently discovered that mosquito spray is dangerous to the health, who would have thunk?

When I left my friend Martha’s house tonight, the mosquito abatement crew had just misted the neighborhood.  Silly me, I should have stayed in the safety of the house, becuase the spray that kills bugs tried to kill me.  I had the worst asthma attack I’ve had in years (we’re talking Ginger swerving through traffic to race a purple tinged Alex to the hospital style of asthma attack, it wasn’t pretty).  I didn’t realize it was getting bad until I was almost home, and then I had the internal debate to try and take care of myself or just drive straight to the E.R.  I decided to take myself inside, where my new roommate made me some hot water and I used over a months worth of inhalers to calm my lungs down.  Disaster averted, but it was not fun.

So as much fun as it can be to read my stories of breathless white knuckle driving, it gives me the perfect excuse for writing about life and its risks.  I’ve gotten very frustrated thinking about the risks I take every day and how much I worry about safety.  Granted, worry about safety at a chemical plant is completely warranted, I’m not knocking work safety here.  But I get an earful from family whenever I talk about climbing, biking, skiing, driving in Texas traffic; doing all the memory creating activities that bring joy.

I understand these are “dangerous activities” but in this life isn’t couch surfing or even driving home considered a “dangerous activity”?

I’m reading a great book right now about a man who challenges all the assumptions of the American culture.  He tells a tragic tale of how his horse dies, and honestly it broke my heart.  Eustace fell in love with a horse, and he and this horse journeyed across the country, setting a world record.  The horse and he loved adventure, they experienced something few people ever have or will.  After their amazing journey, Eustace took the horse home and he lived a normal horse life, in a barn going for short easy rides.  One day while out riding, he stumbled over a small stone, fell and shattered his femur, 100 YARDS from the barn.  Thus, Eustace’s love died.  This horse had crossed perilous terrain, survived epic conditions, and ran free.  It broke my heart a little to think that he could have missed out on all that for fear of tripping over a stone in his own backyard.

So, I fear getting hurt climbing or skiing.  I dread getting hurt doing one of life’s everyday activities like walking, driving, or breathing.  Life is precious and fragile.  Can I respect and protect at the same time?

Where Happy Little Bluebirds Fly

The Wizard of Oz is the theme of the last week for me. It started with text messages on Tuesday.  Ian was flying in to Houston, and got stuck due to tornadoes in Georgia.  He thought it was all too ironic that “Somewhere over the Rainbow” was playing over the radio in the airport.  In the spirit of connectedness, it made me nervous.

I went to see the Wizard of Oz at Seraphim Hall last night.   Happily, Broadway Across America has been a great experience while living so close to a big city.  Every other month we go into the city, enjoy great food, and then watch a great play.  Usually Emily sleeps through half of it, and sometimes we still go out drinking afterward.  I love it:)  I’ve seen real broadway quality shows, for a screaming good deal.  And I’ve come to know some amazing people; what a bonus.

Today was rough.  After a little flooding in the streets and crying in the house, the Huffs and I settled in for a movie.  We choose Australia, with Nicole Kidman and Hugh Jackman.  Great film.  Guess what the theme song is?

Due to the chaos and drama of the day, I’m trying to figure this song out.  Where is the rainbow and how do I get to the other side?  There was definitely enough rain today to warrant a prismatic anomaly.

Whale of a Tale

Most people know that I grew up in a typical Christian family.  I went to church, helped my mom make communion bread, learned the bible stories from the flannel graphs just like many others.  I liked the stories.  The fantastic tales of Noah and the city sized ship, the plagues of Egypt, and the Garden of Eden were my favorites.  Those stories had happy endings; Noah saw the first rainbow, the Jews escaped into the wilderness to have a big party, and Adam and Eve got the roam of the planet to enjoy nature.  It all seemed so simple and beautiful when characters were stuck up on the board, there was no pain, no understanding of sin, no chaos.  I guess flannel pictures simplify all of that away.  I didn’t know that Adam and Eve probably got sunburn in un-mentionable places.

Now, out of all the stories I learned, very few ever required an action.  Most of the time I was just learning biblical history, which in all honesty is quite boring.  I am an action kind-a girl, I like to do stuff.  So I’ve enjoyed over the last few years reading the biblical history reports with in the SOAP format – Scripture, Observation, Application, Prayer.  To me, the application part is key to preventing the stories from just rolling right out of my over stimulated brain.  I haven’t figured out how to apply the Garden or the Ark to life here in 2009, but one historical story has piqued my interest.

God said to Jonah “Rise and go to Nineveh, that great city, and call out against it, for their evil has come up before me.”  But Jonah rose to flee to Tarshish from the presence of the Lord.

Wow, what an IDIOT!  That sounds incredibly judgemental but come on.  If God told you to do something, you’d have to be a fool to try and run the other direction.  Jonah was raised to know the stories, he knew of God’s power.  And for some reason he thought being outside of God presence would be a. possible and b. better.

We all know the next part of the story, he gets kicked off a boat, Moby Dick swallows him, he meets Pinocchio in the belly of a fish, and escapes to live happily ever after (the details are a little vague to me, but you get the point). So God put something huge in Jonah’s way to stop him from running away.  I can’t even count the number of times God has thrown in a monkey wrench to stop me from being an idiot.  I’m just like Jonah, I’m a runner.  I often know the right action to take, and I turn tail because ‘Its too hard’ or ‘I’m tired.’  And its when I manage to run, be it mentally or physically, that it becomes obvious I’m an idiot.

There comes a point when we all hit rock bottom from our stupid decisions.  What lesson do I need to learn today?  And where’s the whale?

We all want progress, but if you’re on the wrong road, progress means doing an about-turn, and walking back to the right road; in that case, the man who turns back soonest is the most progressive. -C.S. Lewis

Planning

Failure to plan is planning to fail. -Project Management

I like to plan.  I plan parties, schedule work-outs, even write blogging on my to-do list.  Its the type-A personality, I can’t avoid it.  (Side note, I just read Wikipedia’s definition of  Type A and it made me want to cry.)

So I’ve been on the five year plan of life.  Basically I’ve been getting frustrated because my whole plan is falling to bits.  I had planned to climb like a rockstar, oops no.  I intended to fall in love, damn.  I was hoping to get a graduate degree, blasted.  Nothing on the five year plan has happened yet.  So apparently my planning was more like unthought-out silly dreaming.

I’m thinking that its not possible to boil down my dreams to a list, a schedule, or an order of events.  So how do I go about this life?  Just float about waiting for God to drop things in my lap?  Well I don’t really believe that either.  There has to be a combo that can be comfortable, yet challenging.  Just this week, God showed me that he can give me the opportunities, and I can still plan.  There’s a dream come true.  Soon I’ll get to say the first thing on my five year plan is coming to fruition, even if it took a whole year of waiting in Texas.

40 Day Habits

I’ve noticed lately that I’m really pushing back from all things “supposed to.”  Things filled with obligation, not necessarily commitment,  have really started to grate on my nerves.  As I strive to live a life of intention, I’ve realized its important to strip away all the worldly imposed life elements.

Why do I work out?  Because I want to be healthy, and I like the challenge.

Why do I work?  Because I need money to pay off my silly debts and buy Ben & Jerry’s.

Why do I go to church?  Because I feel its necessary for my sanity to worship and take the focus off of me.

Why do I facebook?  Because my friends expect me to, awfully close to “I’m supposed to.”

Why do I give things up for lent?  That’s a tough one…

I’ve been giving up ridiculous activities and decadences since I was seven.  I’ve given up sugar, coffee, swearing and many other “unchristian” activities.  The forty days have never really felt that long to me, I’m a control freak so its never bothered me to limit myself.  But now as I look back, I wonder why I even gave up my guilty pleasures.  Sugar and swearing aren’t inherently bad, so I fear I might have done it because it was expected.  Its also possible that I just like the challenge.

So this year, I’m taking up a new practice instead of sacrificing.  We’ll call it a new habit if you will.  I think life changes take a little practice, so I’ll be taking the next forty days to train my mind and body to focus on God first thing.  My snooze button is officially dead today.  Tomorrow, when my phone beeps I’ll be up to start the day slowly and centered.

If I can get up on time for forty days, I can do it for the next forty years.

Christmas Gifts

Thank-you to everyone for the Christmas I’ve always wanted.  I enjoyed the time, the laughter, and the memories.  Everyone’s “gift” was donated to 3for5.  So thank-you for helping me do that as well.

Paint it red

Or blue, green, or purple.  Painting is therapeutic.  I fully support the use of low VOC paint, made using Celanese products.  I gotta help our stock price somehow…

http://www.treehugger.com/files/2005/10/affordable_low.php

Two questions-what and why

For the last 24 years I’ve asked a lot of questions.  I’ve always been an observer; watching reactions in flasks and recording temperature, pressure, and color (or even people in situations, cataloging temper, body language, and tone of voice).  I find myself asking “What is going on here?”  I’m a scientist.

Every scientific statement in the long run really means something like “I put some of this stuff in a pot and heated it to such and such a temperature and it did so and so.”  Do not think I am saying anything against science, I am only saying what its job is… But why anything comes to be there at all and whether there is anything behind the thing science observes – this is not a scientific question.”  -C.S. Lewis

So I would never claim to have science figured out, but I am a classic type A and questions of the ‘what’s going on here’ have always come naturally.  Pensive thoughts of the ‘why are things happening’ are a foreign topic, up until now.

While home in Utah for the holidays, I caught myself delving into the world of curiosity.  I was shocked with questions- why I can’t help but love certain people, how I had come to my present circumstance, why do things always seem to work out, and why does life change so quickly.  It was a barage of questions; it exhausted me.  I’m still spinning in thoughts.  Its blissful to be caught up in questions with no concrete answers,  I can’t be wrong today!

Conspiracy

I’ll start with a confession, I’m electronically challenged.

I got a new cell phone a few months ago, and its a minor miracle that I’ve figured out how to call and text.  The blasted thing is so much smarter than me.  I can’t believe cell phone is foiling me, not for lack of trying mind you.  I’ve read the ridiculous 79 page manual, put the cd in my computer, and tried pushing random buttons in complicated combinations.  After a week of serious work, I gave up on the stupid thing.  I haven’t managed to put my pride on the shelf long enough to go the the Sprint store and ask for help, but I predict that is coming soon.  Its embarassing, really.  Sprint’s commercials say to “come in and get a lesson in how to use a new phone.”  Lessons?  Really?

I could have sworn phones were invented in the late 1800s, how complicated should they really be?  We have progressed a long way from the old rotary phones of childhood.  I’ve gone through the stages, spinning dials to digital, speed dial and multiple lines, now Blackberry’s and iPhones.  I guess I deserve this frustration, I wanted a phone that had bells and whistles.  I like the idea that it can keep my schedule and my contacts, take photos, and make me the occasional blueberry waffle.  Is that really too much to ask?

Second confession: I’m finally sending my old phone away, it was a crutch.  Now I must figure out the new one, I can’t keep giving up because I have the old one on my desk at home.  Time to move on.