what you don't know about me

Don't worry.  What you don't know about me won't hurt you...

1. I sat on the 4th row at the Jackson's Victory Tour concert in 1984. (My mom paid $120 for 4 tickets in a lottery system, and that's what we got! She was so excited, she misspelled her name when she signed for them, and then hid the tickets behind a picture hanging in her room until the day of the concert.  We were sitting so close to the stage, we couldn't see Michael's feet when he did the moonwalk :-( Check out this youtube clip for a taste of what it was like!)
   
2. I tear up (and sometimes even cry!) when I hear or sing the National Anthem or any other patriotic song.
   
3. In fourth grade I danced a solo to "Billie Jean" in the school talent show.
   
4. In third grade, my two friends and I played an air guitar gig to Joan Jett and the Blackheart's hit "I Love Rock-N-Roll."  Click here to watch the real thing!
   
5. In sixth grade I had a mullet.
   
6. I cry when someone wins big on The Price is Right.
   
7. I can do a pretty decent impression of Droopy the Dog. Click here to see him in action.
8. I used to cry when I heard the Stars Wars theme. I had a major crush on Luke Skywalker. Click here to have a listen! 
9. Obi coban tobalk obin toburkobey tobalk, coban yobou?
10. I can whinny like a horse.
11. When I was 11, I was backstage at Johnny Carson and Days of Our Lives, and in the audience at Wheel of Fortune.
12. I was serenaded by a Mariachi band at midnight and proposed to (by my husband!) in Juarez, Mexico.
13. In first grade I peed my pants because Mrs. Hymer wouldn't let me go to the bathroom.
14. I can roll my tongue, turn it over in both directions, bend it, turn it into a flower, and make a castle out of my lips!
15. I'm five degrees to Kevin Bacon. Find out how many you are here.
16. I've changed approximately 10,000 diapers.
17. I eat peanut butter and pickle sandwiches even when I'm not pregnant!
18. I've sung "Silent Night" at least 365 times in the last year.
19. I've cried over spilt milk, several times.
20. I was once mistaken for Miss Colombia when I was eating dinner at a restaurant in Puerto Rico (the Miss Universe pageant was in town.) Go here to see what she really looked like.

the power of thought

God has really been speaking to me in the past few months about my "self talk."  What I've discovered is how powerful it is.

It all started with a Bible study lesson. I can't even remember the name of the book it came from, but I just remember that the topic of the lesson was the impact of self talk. We've all heard that if someone tells you something long enough, eventually you will believe it. And basically, that was what was happening to me. Except it wasn't someone else doing the talking...it was me talking to myself in thought. Or at least I thought it was me doing the talking.

The things I thought about on a regular basis were just flat out destructive. Not in a physical danger kind of way, but in a tearing myself down kind of way.  It affected my attitudes, my words, my moods, and even my view of myself.  And as if that wasn't enough, it also affected how I was relating to others.

But God showed me that these thoughts were not my own. They were lies straight from the pits of hell. The master of deception had found a weak spot in me. He crept in so slyly, so gradually, that I didn't even realize it had happened. Most of the time, I would catch myself in the middle of one of these thought dungeons, not even realizing I had been listening to his lies so intently.

But God didn't just show me the origin of these thoughts.  He gave me a way to combat them, too. 

I had been praying that God would show me a verse that I could claim as my very own "life verse." One that would be applicable and intensely significant to the real me. The real me that He knit together in my mother's womb. The real me that He fearfully and wonderfully made. That woman that He created as one-of-a-kind.  

Then one day - again in a Bible study - it came to me.  The verse wasn't even the focus of the lesson, but there it was, nonetheless.  It was one I had read a million times, but this time it was different. It was perfectly relevant and had significant meaning to the real me. And I instantly knew it was mine.

"Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy, think about such things." Philipians 4:8

I can't even begin to describe the impact of this verse assignment. It was as if He had written it just for me. Honestly, it transformed me overnight...kind of like a holy extreme makeover. I am no longer captive to these lies for extended periods of time. If I find myself hanging out in one of these thought dungeons, I just meditate on my verse and am transported back to a place of refuge, safe in the arms of my Savior.

Most recently, God showed me yet another way I can use this verse to combat negative thoughts and difficult situations. It's a series of questions - related to my verse - that I ask myself to gain perspective and perhaps redirect my thinking.  (I have fondly named them the "u-turn group" :-) What is true about this thought/situation? What is noble? What is right? What is pure? What is lovely? What is admirable? If there isn't anything excellent or praiseworthy about it, I shouldn't be thinking about it in the first place.

I truly desire integrity in thought as well as deed. I am so grateful God has revealed to me the power of my mind, and that He gave me this verse for taming it.

perfectionism at its finest

Combining perfectionism with efficiency is scary...

Check out this short video clip on t-shirt folding. As soon as I saw it, I practically ran to get a shirt so I could try it.  And after a few tries, I'd mastered it. I love perfectly folded shirts "in a pinch" :-) 

The video is in Japanese.  But that doesn't matter.  Perfectionism speaks all languages!

which kind are you?

Today I ran across these quotes from C.S. Lewis posted on a friend of mine's blog:

"There are two kinds of people:  those who say to God, "Thy will be done," and those to whom God says, "All right then, have it your way."

I'm not real proud to say I have been both kinds.  It has been my experience though that it's much better in the long run to be the first kind, even though I sometimes find myself thinking again like C.S. Lewis when I find myself in the midst of His will:  

"We're not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be."

Which kind are you?

glory days

This week I did something that I haven't done in 17 years, and wow did it feel _____!!

Yeah, like that. Absolutely indescribable is about the only way I could even somewhat describe it. I mean, my feelings surfaced like they had been underwater too long and couldn't breath. So sudden, so explosive, but at the same time so natural, so refreshing. They had been pounding at the door of my heart for so long that when I finally provided a way out, there was no going back. The whole experience stirred up something in the depths of my soul and left me in a total state of wonder with one big question for God: Why?

Why do you give us such innate desires that are woven into the very core of our innermost being, yet seemingly provide only a short window of opportunity for fulfilling them?  If I have served my purpose with these desires, then why doesn't the intensity subside?

Hello?  Am I missing something here? 

All the while, ringing in my ears are the words of David: "Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart."   As well as the words of Solomon: "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven."

Well, God definitely has a sense of humor.  I'm sure it's no coincidence that the verses He brought to my mind mention the word "season," as this conversation between me and my Creator came about simply because of my love for a sport.

Are you wondering what in the world I did to ignite this divine interrogation? All I did was buy a hot pink volleyball from Target and use it in a game of one-on-one pepper with my best friend.  

Are you kidding me, you ask?  No, I'm not kidding. That's all it was. A simple game of pass, set, hit.  Except I wasn't 17 anymore.  It wasn't during practice or pre-game warm up. I wasn't wearing a number 8 on my back. And I wasn't even on a volleyball court.  I was in my own backyard, and I was barefoot. The spectators had changed too.  They were no longer parents and peers, but an 8 year old boy, and two 5 year old girls. Three of our four kids were watching our every move and begging for their turn to pepper.

As much as the context had changed however, much had stayed the same. We peppered like we were 17 again. Like we were proud Lady Indians in uniform. 

We had the same movements: She said I set the same, and I noticed she did too. 

We used the same words: When we were going to set it, we said "set!"  When we were going to hit it, we said "down!" When one of us had a good dig, we said "nice up!" 

 

We experienced the same excitement: There was a lot of smiling and giggling when we had a good volley.

   

As we played, one of us dripped with sweat, and the other one just glowed...more of the same. Our youth revived, we reminisced and talked about the glory days. It was incredible. We still had it in us. And I have to say, we weren't all that bad. 

But as fun as it was, I'm still left wondering if my volleyball "season" is really over or if God has just called a really long time-out...

ode to creativity

oh the relentless stream of ideas

begging for their birth...

from me? (cringe)

no. please, not from me.

too many of you are calling for attention, 

so loud it almost hurts.

competing for a spot in my day.

pick me, pick me! they always say.

go away! i sometimes cry

you're stressing me out!

you're clogging up my thoughts,

and i want to think about something else!

wait, no! come back!

i'll give you life, i promise!

it might be days, it might be years,

but be assured your time will come.

be patient blessed ideas, 

creativity needs time to reproduce!

more rejoicing in sockdom!

Once again, the sockdom has reason to rejoice!  Can you believe it? A second lone sock has returned home! 

It was yet another tan ribbed sock, but this time, from my DH's stash (they co-habitate with my pairless stash on the floor of my closet.)  I found this one hanging out amongst a basket full of clean laundry. It was actually a rather unbelievable way to make its return to the sockdom, as if my DH wore one without the other or something. I saw it there mingling with the rest of the pile, trying hard to blend in.  I thought I recognized it as one of the runaways, but dismissed the idea rather quickly, thinking surely a second sock would not piggyback its return so soon on such a similar peer. When I was done folding, there it was again, all alone at the bottom of the basket, looking uncomfortably out of place. It displayed quite a different attitude than the first. It was much more nonchalant, as if trying to mask its comeback. I'm not sure why this second sock displayed such reservation about coming home, but I could barely stand to look at it in all its misery. So without much hope, I went to rummage through the lone sock stash. And to my great surprise, its lonesome mate was right there waiting for me.

I'm starting to wonder if the secret sock society has declared a mandatory homecoming for all the tan ribbed socks. 

(Two down, fifteen to go!)