you will not be the same

"You can promise that I will come back?"

"No.  And if you do, you will not be the same."

~ The Hobbit. J.R.R.Tolkien

Take on the world.  Take wise chances.  Go get your dream.  Don't look back; if you keep looking in the rearview mirror, you'll crash as you travel forward.  New year, fresh start.  I can't wait to find God all over again.

here, planet earth

A few nights ago, my mom and I were at the post office.  As usual, the line was long-ish and there was only ONE GUY on the cash register.  We weren't in any hurry though; dad was waiting in the car and we were making our way to a chamber strings concert at a local university.

As we stood in line for about 10 minutes, I watched the man behind the counter efficiently get us through the line.  He stood perhaps 5'7", middle-aged with glasses, white buzz cut for hair, and as we got closer, I noticed a bit of a lazy eye.  He greeted every customer with a nod of the head and seemed to be well-practiced at his job.

It was our turn.

Mom gave him the mail, and as he began to process the envelopes, I debated whether or not to make small talk with the guy.  I knew that all the people in line behind us would be observing our transaction as carefully as I had watched the ones before us, and it occurred to me that if I said something encouraging to him, perhaps it would inspire someone else to reach beyond themselves, too.

"Are you having a great day?" I decided to ask.

"I am!  I'm just glad to be here, " he answered, carefully sticking a bar code to an envelope.

"That's great.  I guess we all should have that attitude, huh?"

He smiled at this, then continued.  "I was out of work for 7 months this year.  I had liver cancer.  But they cut it outta me and I'm all better now.  So like I said, I'm just glad to be here."

This time, the phrase had different meaning.  By "here" he didn't just mean at his so-so job; he meant here, on planet earth.  He was thankful to be alive.

Are you thankful to be alive?  Your life might be great, or it might not be anything you want it to be.  You might be depressed or discouraged, or you might be living the dream.  Whatever your place in the world, let's just remember to thank God for the breath in our lungs because it means we still have a reason to be here.

journal entry

This is from my journal on 9/11/12:

"I feel like I'm almost starting over, now that I'm 19. Spiritually, I've been at a loss to know who God really is. Worship? Church? Reading the Bible? What's the point? How much is really how God designed it? How much is useless human invention? I need to know. I'm basing my LIFE on this stuff...I'd like to know what I believe.

I heard someone on YouTube say (while she was drunk), 'If you're drunk, who cares how much black makeup you have on, you're sad anyways, because if you weren't, why would you be drinking in the first place?'

That's my generation, people. Doesn't anyone care?"

...become blameless and harmless, children of God without fault in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world. Philippians 2:15

life

It's funny; I've never watched Titanic before.  According to two of my coworkers, I haven't yet fully known the epitome of female emotion.

Um, ok.

Until today...because I watched [the first half of] it today!  I'll finish it tomorrow when I'm ready to emotionally embrace the ending...tear.

What an incredible story.  It makes me think about something called life.  Life: our existence.  We don't know anything else.  We've seen death, felt death, tasted death, but truly no one who is alive has known anything different.  Life...what a precious, fragile thing.

Compare the Rose of old to the younger version of herself.  Young Rose is vibrant, fully clear-minded, able-bodied.  Her concerns are small; she knows little of what the world truly holds.  Her beauty is flawless, untainted by the years that would ultimately carve themselves into her face.

Fast-forward to the centenarian whose memory is wearing thin.  Frolicking around the deck of a ship is no longer a fact of life.  She doesn't lower her lashes at the mystery of a caring young man, for he isn't a mystery anymore.  Her bones carry weathered skin from years past, and truly she is a wealth of matchless worth, yet the current generation casts her aside like a forgotten toy.

One day my beauty will fade.  Today, I feel the eyes of men assessing what they see.  Today, I look expectantly to the future, having not a clue what it truly holds.  Today, I have hope that my life will be a story worth telling when I'm old and gone.

But one day, when I'm old and still here, my outward beauty probably won't be a drawing card for people.  And that's okay, it's not what matters anyway.  But I don't want people to look at me as a 'once-upon-a-time'.  I want to be someone who cares, someone who's still in touch with the world and the current generation, someone who can love them and speak wisdom into their lives.  I want to get closer to God with each breath and one day breathe in and be with Him.

My 100th birthday will be here before you know it, and I want to live all those years in between exactly how God wants me to.

you've probably thought about this too

via

I begin writing so many posts that I never actually publish.  For some reason, I often feel as though my words will just seep through the cracks of this hugely extensive social networking world, forever to go unnoticed by anyone.  So why bother fitting my thoughts into a coherent and publish-able work of art?

But I've been finding that it's the little things people say that you actually remember.  People won't let you see who they really are, not if they can help it.  The last thing they want to do is stride out to center stage, into the spotlight where nothing is hidden, and whip their cape back so the world can scrutinize their every last flaw.

It's the small unguarded comments, the raising of the eyebrows, the "humphs" that come from their throats, that whispers this is me.  Without those simple moments, we might all look the same with our safety masks on, not one of us differing from the next.

So this is a "humph".  It's not much.  But in 10 seconds I will click publish and maybe, someone will hear it.

7 billion is a lot of people

Did you know that as of August 7, 2012, the world population was calculated at 7,031,379,406 people?

I would like to point out that your average Starbucks has a fire code limit of maaaybe 50 people. 75 at most.

Ever thought about how many people you pass on the road?  Then multiply that by the rest of your city.  And the rest of your state.  And country.  And continent.  Then add that to the other 6 continents.

When it all comes down to it...

There is an unfathomable number of human souls gracing  the face of this earth.

I can't even grasp it.

Then to make your head spin a little more, God has a purpose for every. single. one. of those people.  Not one of those 7 billion have "no purpose".  (Not to mention the trillions of people before and after us.)

They're all here for a reason.

The lady in pink at McDonald's who had no hair and the man who called her white trash.

The two old men at the doctor, one with a walker and one with retardation.

The girl at work waiting for her baby to come.

The waiter who gave us chips and soda for free.

The teens on the lightrail posing for photos and swearing like sailors.

God specifically created all of those people for a purpose, just like an artist paints a picture.  What made him paint that picture?  It was on his mind.  He was captured by the beauty of the scene, the story it told.  I think God's "painting hour" is his favorite hour of the day.  I think he gets all of his other chores done as fast as possible just so he can sit down and put all of his heart and joy into his paintings...us.

You are a wonderful painting, friend.  You stand out in the art gallery.  You bring tears to the eyes of viewers simply by the complexity of the story you tell... Thank you for being you.

in search of eden

"You can't go back to the garden," Miranda said.  "It's never going to be perfect here again.  And if you waste all your energy trying to make believe or to look for the perfect place or the perfect person or the perfect life, you'll miss the good while looking for the perfect."
-In Search of Eden, by Linda Nichols

a poem

As I always saw it, there are no rules in poetry.  Perhaps I'm wrong, but it sure never made sense to me.  It's like a puzzle with half the pieces missing.  But whether there's rules to poetry or not, there is no mistaking the utter boredom that plagued me to read Robert Frost in high school.

However, once in every other rare blue moon, I'll have inspiration to write a poem. *gasp*

This post inspired me and what follows is my creativity dump for the weekend.  Enjoy putting the puzzle together.

perfect love pushes fear

from all we hold dear

though nothing gives to be afraid

fear keeps dropping tears

being all alone in this

was not, no, what’d i miss

let’s take the i out of the me

one man can’t himself kiss

who could know the depths of love

than thinking like a dove

no one understands the pain

of leaving life above

fill me up with something more

than empty, senseless shore

giving isn’t easy

if void makes up the core

one more makes five

even dead, odd alive

meaning beyond imagery

of things set to arrive

the little twig

I sat in the grass, no lights except the stars, the trees making a cozy, roofless cocoon.  In front of me was a stick, no longer than my hand, which I proceeded to break off into little pieces.  I felt so safe, close to God.  My stick was getting shorter and shorter, so on a whim I raised one of the teeny bits of tree to my lips, kissed it, and said, "Catch it, God!"

When I threw the piece of wood to the sky, I felt like He did just that: caught it.  So I did it again.  It was so wonderful...I had never kissed God before.

There was one last little twig in my hand.  I kissed that one too, but this time, I held it close.

"I don't want to let You go."

He said, "I don't want to let you go, either...and I never will." (Hebrews 13:5)

DIY jewelry board

DIY, say whaaa?!  But, my friends, I present to you my newest brain-child that I literally just finished.  I'm pretty excited, if you can't tell.  And if one of you pins this on pinterest, I might just scream for joy. (Disclaimer...all photos taken with my phone...)

Gather: Black acrylic paint ($0.59 at Michaels!)
Double-sided tape
Scissors
Sponge/paintbrush
Wrapping paper
Mod-Podge (optional)
Also: Ruler to cut your paper

...and a bulletin board. 

Step 1: Paint the edges of your cork board.  Repeat coats until fully covered.
(Acrylic paint dries super fast!)

...and about 1/2-1 inch into the cork to make it more seamless.
Apply mod podge, if desired, to make it shiny.

Step 2: Take random pictures of the summer evening behind you.

Step 3: (sorry, no pictures) Measure and trim a sheet of wrapping paper to fit snugly
in your board; apply double-sided tape to corners and edges of cork,
then carefully press the paper to the tape.

Step 4: (boy, I stink at taking accurate step pics) Push thumb-tacks into the pattern,
however many you'd like, to make little hooks for your jewelry.

Done! Hang your creation and add jewelry to your delight.

in which i spend a 4th without fireworks

The good news: they're finally teaching those dang fires a lesson.

The bad news: there shall be no fireworks tonight.

Fireworks.  The glittering bursts of flame that celebrated the freedom we'd so ardently fought for.

Fireworks.  The show of wonder that children love/hate as the sonic booms resonate within their tiny lung cavities.

Fireworks.  The mandatory display of patriotic affection without which Independence Day cannot be called such.

You shall be dearly missed, my firey friends.  At least I have you on my $4 T-shirt to help ease the pain of loss.

Until next year, I bid thee...farewell.

from the olden days

Anybody else grow up on The Three Amigos?

I felt like this needed to be shared.

In other news, Andy Griffith has gone to heaven.  I'll miss you, my whistling friend!

if you don't have anything good to say

Let's be clear about something: I have a fake tan.

Well, partially.  I've been trying to lessen the effects of my farmer's tan by using that foaming tan stuff they have in every aisle at Wal-Mart.

While it's been working rather nicely, I mistakenly left a glob of it on my ankle the other day...resulting in a shameful little patch of brown that will henceforth reside beneath these sandals.

What I'm really trying to say is that I don't have anything to say.  God's working, I'm changing, and all is well even when it's not.

Happy Summer.

"...narrow is the gate and difficult is the way which leads to life, and there are few who find it." (Matthew 7:14 NKJV)

weekend pictures...midweek

Okay, so I realize that you've probably all seen these on instagram already, but posting them two or three times can't hurt one bit.

1. Friends.  I love you, Morgles.

2. Mom and her baby.  We went to see Madagascar 3...and I'm telling you, it is worth every kernel of popcorn.

3. I want to always be in love with my husband.

4. My babysit-ee gave me a concert...what a sweetie!

5. Flowers + sun = what I mostly take pictures of.

6. Refer to 5.

7. Brother and I went for a walk that included a lot of laughing, possibly illegal playing-on-elementary-school-playgrounds, and pondering the meaning of the name 'hopscotch'.

8. And speaking of sweeties (4.), look at this one!  Woooeee she's a cutie!

just breathe

via pinterest

Earlier today, I was walking my dog to the park.  The wind was warm and there weren't too many people out.  I had just crossed the street and was trying to make my dog go left instead of right, when a car pulled up beside me.  Curious, I turned around to see a girl of about 8 or 9 years hop out, her smiling eyes on Zoe.  She wore a thin little blue dress that barely covered her orange swimsuit, and her choppy hair was blonde and tangled.

'May I pet your dog?' she breathed, eyes still fixed on my 5 lb canine.

'Of course,' I replied, amused at her fascination.  As soon as Zoe noticed her, it was all tongue and tail and please-please-please-rub-my-belly from there.  Sure, listen to the stranger, ignore the owner.

Meanwhile, her mom rolled down the window and thanked me for stopping.

'She saw your dog and just had to pet it,' which was, of course, followed by the usual 'how old is she,' 'she's four,' 'wow, full-grown and so tiny' conversation.

It didn't seem like Little Miss Sunscreen was interested in leaving anytime soon, so I let her continue to awkwardly lift the dog and tenderly kiss her fuzzy head.

She was so happy.

There was nothing in the world right then that could have possibly made her happier.

I think I saw scars on her arms.  Her teeth had gaps.  Her hair was shorter than most girls prefer it.  Who knows what that precious young soul had seen in her few years?

Yet, none of that mattered, because that was then and this is now.

As we said our goodbyes, part of me wished I had stayed longer.  But I think God set me up with that sweet little girl to remind me...just breathe.

summer

I have to say that summer just gets my blood pumping.  The thought of sun and ice cream and sweet, warm night air just makes me smile a little without even trying.

Recently, my family and I had the chance to get away for the weekend.  We stayed in a little cabin tucked into the hills of New Mexico, surrounded by a brilliantly clear sky and hundreds of aspens.  There were s'mores (lots), coffee (lots and lots), wind (too much), and Apples-to-Apples-playing late into the night.  In the morning, the sunlight filtered so perfectly through the trees, it seemed like a fairy forest.

It was just what we needed...a little r&r.

But all that time away got me thinking.

This is just so wonderful, so perfect.  What if something bad happens tomorrow?  What if this is my last day on earth with these precious humans I call my own?  What if, what if, what if. Oh, how it sours the moments of happiness.

But, no.  I found that it was no use.

Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don't get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow.  God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes. Matthew 6:34 (MSG)

So bring it on, summer.  This is going to be a great summer.  And even with what good things you bring, God will always bring something better.

in the back

Hey bloggy world!  Wellllll, that was a nice little hiatus.  Did we all like that?  Good, now back to business.

First on today's agenda: SUMMER.  Memorial Day is just around the corner and so is pool/popsicle season.  Somebody say "cannonball!"

Second on our list (why I keep saying we, who knows): Currently I am staring at my checkbook and wondering why there are so many entries from DSW.  Apparently one can't have too many sandals...(?)

Third:  I have indeed spent a whole lot of time in my backyard.  I think about that a lot.  It has seen all of 16 years with me, and I guess I'm just grateful it's always been there for me.  For better and for worse.  Just like a good hubby.

Did I just compare my backyard to a husband?  I might need prayer.

some may call it luck, fate, or even an act of God, but these brownies are perfect

Me and brownies go way back, but this recipe from foodwishes.com really takes the cake.

1/2 c butter

1 1/8 c sugar

3/4 c cocoa

1/4 t salt

1/2 t vanilla

2 lg eggs

2/3 c flour

1 c chocolate chips

Melt butter over med-low heat until melted and hot.

Whisk together sugar and cocoa in a large bowl; add melted butter.

Add salt, vanilla and one egg; whisk.

Beat in the second egg.

Mix in the flour with a spatula; when almost blended, add chocolate chips; finish mixing.

Bake in an oiled 8x8 pan at 325 for 30-35 mins, until a toothpick comes out slightly dirty.

They should turn out dense and fudgy, not at all light and cakey.  Just the way I like them.

you're the best, kid

A couple months ago, I got into a minor fender bender on my way to work.  As I pulled over and got out to face the lady who'd forgotten she had brakes, I was mostly just shaken up and ticked off.  Not knowing what to do in the event of a car accident, I just took a picture of her license plate and pulled back onto the highway.

As I called my mom and merged into the heavy 7 a.m. traffic, I noticed that I had gotten right behind a semi truck.  Normally I would've passed it as soon as I could, but I was so ruffled by the accident and worried about my head which was starting to throb that I didn't bother going around it.

Several exits passed and still I was tailing him.  It was getting annoying, but there was no way I was going to switch lanes.  That meant side-swipe exposure.

Soon, my exit approached and Mr. Semi's right blinker started flashing.

Well that's funny.  I wonder if...no, he couldn't be.

I needed to make a right turn after the exit.  He turned right.

Left.  Ditto.

Right again.  Okay, this is weird.

Ohp.  Yep.  OF ALL THE PLACES HE COULD HAVE BEEN GOING.

As he put on his flashers and tried to back into the driveway, I carefully went around him and turned into the adjacent parking lot.

I didn't think crossing the street would be so dramatic:  The truck was only halfway into the parking lot and as I passed I heard a honk, then glanced at the driver who was looking at me with his hands in the air.  I kept walking, all the while thinking oh my gosh can this morning get any weirder.

Still unsure of how to lose this 18-wheeler that was obviously out to get me, I heard the window roll down and the driver call, "I'm sorry ma'am; it wasn't you!"

I finally made it into the building and clocked in (ironically, only two minutes late).  Fast-forward an hour or so, I kept bumping into the truck driver who had somehow been assigned to my life for the day.  He was middle-aged, short, stocky, and was rocking black glasses and a soul patch.

"Oh no, it's that same little girl again!" he said the first time.

"Gaahhh I keep running you over," he said when his dolly almost creamed me in the walk-in.

When the stock was all unloaded from the trailer, I ran into him one last time.

"You're the best, kid.  Pound it."

"What's your name?" I asked.

"The name's Glenn, kid.  I'm from California.  Hey, take it easy."  And he was gone.

I've never seen him since.

Every time that supplier delivers to our store, I always look to see if Glenn is the driver.

But I don't think I'll ever see him again.  Somehow I get the feeling God sent me an angel to keep me sane that day...and I'll never forget it.

faith like a child

If you were a set of knitting needles, where would you hide?  Tonight I was trying to find them.  Because I wanted to knit something.  All the cool kids are doing it.

Knitting needles: 1
Jesseca: 0

But whilst I was searching high and low through boxes full of all things pre-pubescent, I found my old Lisa Frank day planner.

Anybody else remember America's fascination with Lisa Frank art?  Every 1990's birthday party was smothered in the stuff.

But anyways.

On one of the pages I had written this:

"To bring God more than what He has required, but what He is pleased with.  God looks deeper into our heart[s] than we can imaigene."

Where did my younger self get that from?  What did it mean to me then?

He really does look deeper into our hearts than we can imagine...and I often forget that now.

God knew I needed a gentle reminder to come to Him as a child, trusting Him contentedly.  And that's what I intend to do, starting now.

But Jesus said, “Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of heaven.” Matthew 19:14

redeeming love

I've been reading the book entitled 'Redeeming Love' by Francine Rivers.  I am captivated by the love Michael shows to Angel and the comparison it makes of God's love towards us.

Of His love towards me.

In the book, Angel is a prostitute who, despite her best efforts, begins to love the man who truly loves her unconditionally.  Out of fear of the unknown, Angel flees his safe embrace on multiple occasions...yet every time, he comes back to fight for her.

The way my savior always comes back for me.

Oh, God...may I love You without hesitation and never again flee Your embrace.  For though Your love contains the unknown, and requires trust to no end, I can't live without Your love.  I can't live without You.

what i'll remember

Life flies by.  Memories come and go with every passing week.  But later, when you've long forgotten the little things that happened, it's fun to go back and have a good laugh.  This week, those little things include...

Eating six chocolate chip cookies in one day.  Two at a time like a pro.

Not practicing the piano accompaniment enough before vocal rehearsal..."oh, sorry guys, I'm stillworkingonitshdfdjs....."

Finding out about a cupcake atm.  A CUPCAKE ATM.

Taking the long way home so I could see a glorious view of the entire mountain range + sunset + reflected in a lake.  Breathtaking doesn't cover it.

Jumping in on a zumba class...aaaand looking like a regular timone (as in timone and pumba).  Complete with the exceptionally brilliant escape at the end.

Watching the Lorax and getting the Lorax Special at IHOP afterwards.  I'm telling you, there's no way to go wrong with green eggs, ham, and sprinkles pancakes.

Reading this post...and relating all too well.  Wal-mart has proven itself to be Weirdsville.

You know the bubbles they use at the carwash?  The triple-colored sudsy ones?  Tell me you haven't sat there inhaling the wonderful smell wishing you could take a bucket home and bathe in it.

Finally finding the perfect nude lipstick.  I'm addicted.  (Myth by MAC.)

for the record: not my lips

And last but by no means least, seeing two prayers answered in one day.  Knowing He's near is the best thing ever.

on church

There's an element to church that just makes me want to leave.  Forever.

It's a selfish element.  One that revolves around 'me' and 'favor' and 'my destiny'.

What ever happened to God?

What happened to the Great I AM who spoke to Moses on the mountain top, who showed up in the quiet wind instead of the dramatic earthquake, who created the very earth beneath our feet and the air swirling life within our lungs?

What happened to HIM?

All He wants is you.  All He wants is the heart and affections of the beautiful people He created to love.

Maybe I'm just upset because I've fought Him for so long.  I know He wants my heart, yet I run the other way in hopes of avoiding something hard.

For giving your heart to another isn't easy.  It takes time, it takes humility, it takes a sacrificial vulnerability to let the other see into the deepest part of your being.

But isn't that what He did for me?  I fail to see what is more humble and sacrificial than laying down one perfect life for trillions of tragically imperfect ones.

And then came the first church.  A handful of people touched by a love not limited to human interaction.  A love that love consumed them, compelled them to lay down their lives so that a lost world could be saved and healed.

And now?  Church seems to be a fashion show dedicated to either donuts or the destiny of the people who walk down the aisles.

What a trade.

Don't get me wrong.  Church is good.  And no, of course I wouldn't leave the church.  It was ordained by God and there is absolutely no replacement for it.

But let's...let's get back to Him.

I'll start with me.  Because I can only change myself.

"For God did not send the Son into the world in order to judge the world, but that the world might find salvation and be made safe and sound through Him." (John 3:17 AMP)

walk in the park

I went to the park this morning with the intention of running a couple laps.  But once I got there, that lovely blue sky and wide open field couldn't stop calling my name...so I involuntarily began running back and forth across the soccer field, first forward, then backward, then lunges all the way across.  Ouch.

After the planks, push-ups and crunches (read: derriere mid-air), I went over to say hi to a lady sitting in the shade with her golden retriever.

"May I pet your dog?"

"Oh sure!  She'd love it.  This is Sadie."

"Awww hi, Sadie!" (woof woof wag wag)

"We were watching you do your workout.  What a great way to do it!"

.....perfect.  Now my entire neighborhood knows I can't do more than five good push-ups and that I sing along to my iPod when I work out.  Well I bet they do too, they just aren't brave enough to do it in public.  So there.

forget the gym, i'll be kayaking

As you may remember from this post, I need to get my butt in shape I've been wanting to work out more.  I briefly considered buying p90x but decided my self-motivation levels aren't high enough for that.  So for the last month, I've been eyeing that monstrosity called 24 Hour Fitness that's sits so innocently down the street from mi casa.  And now that my coworker got a membership there, I have a sweat partner and no excuses.

However.  I've been dragging my feet to sign up because
a. when I got a one-day pass to work out, no one seemed interested in showing me around so I just left
b. my concussion recovery has made my energy level be 0.001 by the end of work every day
and c. the price went up by $10 per month while I wasn't looking.

At this point, kayaking is sounding better and better.

I'm currently sitting with a head full of wet, chinese-food-smelling hair, waiting for the gorgeous dark locks promised by the box.  And since I didn't think you'd want to hear about my new danskos, maybelline eyeshadow and phone case (booooring), I thought I'd just show you a picture of all of them.

Danskos!  Finally some new work shoes.

It's supposed to be plum.  Look brown to you too?

I'm actually a super hero.

That cool cape is the result of the won-ton sauce in my hair (see first sentence).  And my phone really is black.  It's just white thanks to the $3.50 ebay phone case that came from hong kong yesterday in uber-ghetto packaging.  Whatever works, I guess.