Christmas Day Good Samaritan?

I did something I've never done before in an airport. I grabbed a man's leg. This might not seem like much but I don't do stuff like that. I'm ok with handshakes, highfives, and a 3 second hug since I trust you. (I truly am the worst first date.) Making a huge, completely unfounded assumption I'll be someone's beloved, I have little physical contact with men. This body is a temple that belongs to Him, me and maybe a man on this planet. Hopefully he'll appreciate my attempts to honor him before we've met. In the meantime, even if he never shows, I'm on a tight leash. Alright, enough "this is how I'm wired."

So I'm on my way back home to Baton Rouge from the holiday. I'm in Houston and there is a man snoring on one of the seats close to me. I'm looking at him, wondering where he's been, where he's going, if he had a good Christmas, why he's traveling alone, if he has someone to hug when he gets to where he's going, if he loves Jesus. (I'm a complete people watcher and I'll throw a little magic into everything...) He had a fast food drink under his seat. He's been there long enough to get food, or at least get a drink, and he'd been there a while because all the condensation had run off of it. The plane arrives, deboards, and then they announce our departure. I figure someone will wake him up. I had already decided if no one wakes him up, I'm going to. He shouldn't miss his plane because he's tired.

A ton of people walk right past him! I couldn't believe it! They look at him as they walk right on by! But its the look of looking through someone. I hate that look. They see him but don't SEE him. It reminded me of the Good Samaritan bible story. So now I'm the one walking past him. Do I wake him up? Do I let him sleep? Come on God, what am I supposed to do?! Well, He doesn't say one word, so I go on gumption. I shudder at the thought of having to touch him, but I won't pass by and not try to help him. I figure if this isn't his plane, he'll just go back to sleep...

I start tugging on his shoe. He's still sleeping. Dang! I tug a little harder. Nope. Grrr. Wake up, Stubborn! I ask the lady one seat over if she knew where he was going. Nope, she didn't know. So I grab his leg an inch above his knee, turn a ridiculous shade of purple because I'm grabbing some stranger's leg and start shaking. He's still asleep! Sigh. This man needs to wake up before I give up. The nanosecond before I decide I'm going to give up, he opens his eyes. I was thrilled cuz I could stop touching him. I smiled at his left ear and said, we're leaving for Baton Rouge. He kind of shakes his head a little to wake himself up some more and I went and stood in line to board. I don't know if he even got on the plane, but that didn't really matter much to me. I didn't pass him by and I think He was smiling at me...

Presence...

I'm heading to Texas for the holiday,
but wanna leave a note before I go.
What? I'm a completely girly note writer...

God spoils me by giving me your presence in my life.
You're my favorite present...

The Pancake Dinner of '06

Tonight was our annual pancake dinner for church. I was standing there with Courtney, Carla and Meg when Jess came up and said for me to come in the kitchen. I looked at her and said, No. I can clean it if that's what you need. Jess says, Nope, get in here. Ok, I'm not sure if you've ever seen the fear of God on someone's face, but it definitely appeared a few times on my face through this experience. Meg pushes me towards the kitchen and I'm thinking I've had a good run at this church, but I'm pretty sure they'll kick me out when I kill someone with my cooking.

I'm put in front of two pans with sausage links on them. Courtney says she's done this before so it'll be fine. Carla comes along to help as well. My heart is pounding and I'm shaking. Alright, here's why I'm terrified. I mess things up all the time in the kitchen. Really. I'm not being charming, I'm a disaster in that room. And now I was going to feed a huge group of loved ones that could very easily turn on me if one of them gets food poisoning.

So I learn how to cook sausage links. A few people come by. Jake wants to take pics, which I cleverly avoid. T comes in with his camera, who caught on that I was avoiding him so he stubbornly took a few shots. Cody swings by and says, Allison are you ok? You look terrified... Finally the sausage was done. I survived. I've only got like second degree burns from the grease popping, but other than that, I'm alright.

Jess comes to the back and says, On to the bacon. Wait. What? I'm not emotionally prepared for bacon. She brings in a few pounds, yep, pounds, of bacon for us to cook. Cris comes in and gives me a few tips when it comes to cooking bacon. By the time that's done, I have to sit down for a second cuz I'm overwhelmed. I tried to hide the fact I'm crying a little but Courtney caught me. There was absolutely nothing wrong, I was just overwhelmed and that's the way we're wired. A few tears later and I'm ready for another pound of bacon.

The bacon is finished, and I've now got third degree burns from that bacon grease. It definitely pops you when you're least expecting it. Then I move over to Shawnelle who teaches me how to cook pancakes. Angie came by to see if she wanted to go eat and I tell her to go ahead, I think I'm alright. So she goes, but comes back cuz she wants some of "Allison's pancakes." We giggle and then she gives me strict instructions that now I have to practice my pancakes on someone.

All in all, my feet hurt cuz I was back there leaning over a griddle for hours, my hair smells like sausage/bacon, it was stressful, but I wouldn't have traded any of it. Everyone was completely supportive and I don't think anyone will die from my helping out in the kitchen. (Hear that God?) And when I went back into the kitchen Jess told me to turn right back around since I was a cook I was not going to clean up. A cook. She called me a cook!

Big thanks to Jess for her tenacity at getting me out of my comfort zone. Meg, for forcefully but gently shoving me in the direction of the kitchen. Carla, I will never look at another piece of bacon or sausage without thinking of you. Cris, for the stellar bacon tips. Courtney, for laughing at and with me through all this, and Shawnelle, in my heart you and I will forever be Aunt Jemima and Mrs. Butterworth...

Cold Calling...

Life has been crazy lately. Actually I don't think life really slows down much till you're dead. And then you're in heaven. I plan spending my eternal future on a porchswing with my Savior. In the meantime, I'm running around living life here right now.

I've been working a lot this week. So much so that I've been skipping a few meals to get everything taken care of. I still bring my lunch in the vague assumption at some point I'll be hungry, but usually I'm too busy. This morning I brought my lunch, leftover chinese, and put it in the fridge. Three o'clock rolls around and I realize my cell phone hasn't gone off in a while. In fact, I don't even see it on my desk. Hmm. Let me check my purse. Nope, no cell. And then the confusion clears as I consider the probability that I've left it in my lunch box, aka wal-mart bag. I go to the kitchen, open the fridge, grab the bag, look inside and low and behold, there's my phone.

At around three this afternoon, it died on me. The cold sucked the battery dry. But I did learn something in all this. I obviously need a vacation...

From Sparrows to Sultans...

I'm smiling a whole lot today and my day just started. God did some serious healing for a friend of mine. It doesn't surprise me that He still does miracles, but boy oh boy, its the WAY He does them that gets me grinning.

She'd gone to the doctor for a procedure recently. She'd taken all her pre-op medicine, was ready for the big show, they'd even put the iv in. And the doc comes in and says... Well, it looks like I won't be making any money today! She had been healing for a while and he didn't see any need to cut on her...

Sigh, that One. He sure is something... I love how He takes care of us...

Lord, You Catch Me When I'm Falling...

This whole developing a thick skin is harder than I expected it to be. I am not too good at it. In this whole process though I'm learning a bunch of things. About me, about how I react to life in general.

Its been a rough couple of days. I fail. A lot actually. You'd think I'd get better at it as time goes by. Nope. I hate it. Or I'm foolish. Or my hair won't behave. Or I get stressed from work, or church, or family, or home. Pick an Or. I think character is built in these Ors. When I can't be who I want to be, when I'm not enough, when the wisest thing I can do is shut my mouth, close my eyes and breathe.

My roomie and I are going through situations that are completely different but have the same results. There are parts of my life that I wouldn't trade for the world, I just go through moments of, Hey God, It's me, Allison. You're sure about keeping me here? I'm definitely trying to trust and obey, but my life doesn't look like I thought it would when I was younger.

My roomie asked what responsibilities were keeping me here in Baton Rouge. My response was that I don't consider love a responsibility. Its true. I don't mind one bit running around taking advantage of the opportunities to love that He's given me. Sometimes I rock at it, sometimes I fail at it. But His mercies are renewed daily so that gives me the courage to keep trying.

I don't mean this post to be whiny or pitiful. Yes, I get tired. I screw up. I'm fallible. I'm wrong more often than I am right. And yet God's grace, mercy, love, and chin up encouragement is always there itching to wrap me up in Him. I know He's taking care of me, even when I'm not so good at taking care of myself. I truly hated coming home to a dark empty house yesterday. It just adds the color of sad to my heart for a little bit. I think this world tries to toughen you up so much you forget that its perfectly fine to hurt a little sometimes. Its what you do with that hurt that helps shape you...

He's still in control of my wacky world. He will work everything according to His plan. I recognize that I mess up a lot, but that I do not have the power, authority, or skill to mess up His will for my life. Now that's truly amazing and is comforting all the way down to my toes...

I'm a Little Teacup...

Tonight my roommate told me I was a teacup. I've been called many things before, but a teacup not so much. She heard it from a sermon a while back. The preacher was talking about how women are teacups and men are water jugs. Teacups are treated delicately and gently. Water jugs however are thrown around in all sorts of rough and tumble stuff. They get tossed in the back of a truck. You don't treat teacups and water jugs the same. A teacup is held with fingertips, a water jug with a fist.

She told me this because I was definitely fragile tonight. I crack. I get jostled around in this thing called life. I don't understand when I get treated like a water jug. I am not a water jug. I'm a little teacup... And to be perfectly honest, I like being treated with gentleness and kindness, that's the way He made me. I cherish my innocence, however foolish and naive that may seem to the outside world. It's believing Him that I'm worth being treated with respect that is a challenge for me...

1 Peter 3:7-8...Husbands (Guys), in the same way be considerate as you live with your wives (gals), and treat them with respect as the weaker partner and as heirs with you of the gracious gift of life, so that nothing will hinder your prayers. 8Finally, all of you, live in harmony with one another; be sympathetic, love as brothers (and sisters), be compassionate and humble.... I'm not anyone's teacup but His at the moment, so I kind of paraphrase it to make this applicable to my life. These verses remind me of how I should respect the gentlemen and ladies I have the honor to know. And yes, you have to add that Texas twang when you say gals...

Look with your eyes, Not your fingers...

Tonight I had the incredibly fun opportunity to babysit. It was a wide range of ages. Which is fine, cuz I can act like a kid at pretty much any age. Except babies. They terrify me. No lie. They don't like me, so I avoid them like the plague. And not like a mild plague, like a big serious plague. That's how much I avoid them. Plus they can smell fear...

Anyways, we had just finished our pizza. I had cleaned the kitchen. Everybody was fed and watered and settled in for a movie. That kept most of the older ones occupied. The little ones were a different story. They were delightful, but they move like ninjas. They'll be standing right in front of me, I'll blink and they've disappeared into another room. It was incredible. And kept all of us on our toes...

One of the wee boys, who is cute as a button, wrapped me around his little finger when he asked to sit on my lap. I'm a sucker for a pretty face. Especially when looks up at me, halfway grins, and says "more pwease" for the rice crispy treat we were sharing. Ech, be still my heart.

There was a moment when I turned into a mom. One of the little blessings saw a photograph and said, "I wanna see!" and promptly yanked it off the bookcase. Without even an as you please I say, "You can look with your eyes, not your fingers." And then realized what I'd just said in a mom tone of voice. I'm not sure where that came from. Unless you count the years of experience I had till I finally learned how to look and not touch...

Aw, Shoot!

I just missed the target. Come on Allison. Relax. Breathe. Yes, you're in Indiana and its freagin' freezing out here, but you're halfway done with this, so calm down, steady your heartbeat, and shoot three more arrows at 35 yards then on to the final round of 45 yards.

I was 14 or 15 at the time. I can't remember it was that long ago. I remember how I got to Indiana. Countless hours in the backyard with my bow. My mom yelling at me to come in because it was too dark for me to be shooting at anything. My dad giving me the nickname Robin. Starting out with the target superclose. Then working my way farther and farther along. Slowly getting acquainted with my bow, how to shoot it, and what not to do with it. Then on to competition my dad would find for me. Archery exhibitions, gun shows, etc. Winning first place in Texas then on to Internationals in Indiana...

I learned a lot through that process. That I'm relatively calm with a weapon in my hands. That I can tell what kind of shot its going to be right when I let go of the bowstring, and that God really knows how to help an amateur archer go farther than she ever thought she could. I also found out He threw a bit of a fighting spirit in along with the curls and pale skin.

Last night I talked with my roomie about spiritual warfare. We fight in different ways but have some similarities. We both belong to One who is mightier than anything in this world, physical or spiritual. I was in a fight wednesday night. Well, sort of. It depends on if you think I imagined all of it...

It was around 1 or 2 am. I woke up suddenly. There was a voice singing downstairs right by the stairwell. Its voice woke me up. I just knew that whatever it was down there was sure as heck not supposed to be in this house. It wanted to come up the stairwell and was freaking out that it couldn't.

Ok, let me give you a bit of a backstory. I was raised Baptist. The Baptists I have come in contact with say we are in a spiritual battle, but they don't really go into a lot of detail when those two worlds intermingle. However, through my life and my experiences I've come to recognize that sparks tend to fly when I come across something trying to frighten or get at me. And yes, sometimes the other world wants to pick a fight...

This thing at the bottom of the stairwell won't shut the heck up. Its song is beautiful, except for the fact that my soul as well as every part of my senses are screaming that its evil. Yeah, I'm scared. Terrified, but not to the point of forgetting who I am or to Whom I belong. I completely tattled. Started immediately praying outloud to Dad about it. I have no grace or pity on anything evil. I'll fight. I might not fight well, but I'm going to fight. I fight by running. Proverbs 18:10 says, The name of the LORD is a strong tower; the righteous run to it and are safe. I believe that with every part of me.

I pray protection down on my house, my roomie, me and then I ask very respectfully that God kick whatever it is out of my house. And boy did He ever. Within 30 seconds I was sound asleep again. I have no idea what happened after I asked Him to rescue us. He let me go to sleep. Ah, slept like a baby. God is most assuredly a Warrior. Yes, He holds me gently, but He also kicks butts and takes names when His daughter needs protection.

Yes, there is evil in this world. Yes, it hates you. But its a moot point if you belong to Jesus. He provides protection all the time, even if you aren't aware of it. I've seen it. Just once though. My sister and I were little girls. But this blog is already too long to tell that one...

Miller Christmas Tradition

Us Millers have a tradition when it comes to our Christmas tree. My dad, one of the smartest men I've ever met, makes a little Christmas magic for his girls...

Our tree always had bits of paper on it. Usually you have to spot them cuz they are hidden among the branches. Some of them would have an A or and L. They were clues. My dad would hide our Christmas presents all over the house. We would go back and forth through the house till we figured out the clues and finally got our gift. The best thing about it was that the gifts were usually staring us in the face and we never realized it. (I remember one time a necklace hanging from one of the weights of a grandfather clock. I ran every single fingertip in all the nooks and crannies over that clock then realized it was right in front of my face the whole time!)

It was fun for all involved because we'd do it one at a time. Leanne would go, then me. We'd all giggle as we'd figure the clues out or we'd run back to Dad because one of them was too hard for us to get and he needed to help us a little more.

Its definitely something I hope to pass on to my wee ones... I plan on being the one watching my children run around the house then come back to me to show me how creative Dad had been with his Christmas treasure hunt for them...

Help...My Tongue & I Need Self-Control

I'm reading this book on boundaries. It's actually called Boundaries by the Drs. Cloud and Townsend. It's great and horrible to read at the same time. It helps me recognize where I need boundaries.

It's showing me a lot about where my insecurity lies, and how I sabotage the relationships I have in my life. I either internalize and not say one peep or I talk them to death. I live in a life of extremes. Let me give an example so this makes sense to all of us. When I'm told I'm too intimidating, I take it. Accept it wholeheartedly because I believe her and I'm scared she's right. But when Katie tells me something nice I don't believe her, and shrug her off because she can't see the ugly parts of me. See? This girl needs some boundaries!

Me and my tongue need your help. I don't have very good self-control with it. When someone asks me a question, its like the floodgates open. I'm not so sure that's a good idea. On the other hand, if you say something to me that confirms my insecurity I take it to heart. Praise will go in one ear and straight out the other because I struggle with being confident with the me I see in the mirror.

If you're reading this blog, chances are you know me. Plenty of times I've used my mouth to cover my tracks. Or distract you from giving me the help I desperately need but am too prideful to ask for. Sadly, there are relationships I've strangled to death with my tongue. And if that's you, I'm so sorry. I can completely understand if you have no more grace left for me. Please forgive me and my tongue.

So I'm asking you to hold me accountable. Whether its not asking for help when I need it, or if I pile on words to hide the fact that I'm vulnerable. Please don't let me do that. As part of the Body of Christ, I need some help growing up...

I know me the sinner a heck of a lot better than me the saint. I want to be a healthy, well-balanced child of God. And that might require me cutting out my tongue...

When It Reigns...

God seriously takes my breath away. No foolin'. I know everybody has situations in their life where God is working. I'm just so very surprised in the way He shows off. Last week a blessing in my life sent me this quote...

"Whenever God's will is in complete control, He removes all pressure. And when we deliberately choose to obey Him, He will reach to the remotest star and to the ends of the earth to assist us with all of His almighty power."
Oswald Chambers

Heck yes, that's the God I serve! Ha! He for real does that. There are a bajillion examples of Him turning circumstances in my life from "whoa. I really just stuck my foot in my mouth" to "did He just do that?"

I forget that God has grace beyond my comprehension. And that I'm blessed to be loved by people who are gracious with me. There's something to be said for grace. Its the most freeing and humbling experience ever in my opinion. And His mercies are renewed daily. Yep, DAILY!

I get a little intoxicated as He romances me. He doesn't pressure me. He gently calls me to Him. Sigh, I like gentle. I like kind. But I also like getting that proverbial smack upside the head when I need it. He loves me when He corrects me. He loves me even when I'm being unlovely. Gosh He sure does make me smile...

Betty Crocker...Or Not

A few days ago I decided that I wanted the smell of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies in my house. And a few in my tummy wouldn't hurt either. So I put on my gameface cuz I know I am a novice in the kitchen.

I get my weapons of choice. I pull out my baking sheet. My potholders, so I don't singe off my fingertips, a plate, a spatula, and the dough. Oh yeah, I'm not brave enough to try cookies from scratch. I figure I can totally not screw up slice and bake cookies. (Pride comes before a fall...)

I turn on the oven. I put eight of the cookies on the baking sheet. I set the timer on the microwave to 9 minutes. They recommend 10-14, but I like soft chocolate chip cookies. I put them in the oven, feeling very domestic. I get my plate ready. I'm so excited! Then I go sit on my tush. Eagerly awaiting the smell of fresh cookies to permeate every part of my living space.

Um, not so much. I come back at around eight minutes to check on them. They've not moved. They don't look like cookies at all! They look like just lumps of lard with chocolate chips in them. I don't understand this! I did everything that little package told me to do! I preheated the oven to 375. I put them an inch to an inch and a half apart from each other. They were on a baking sheet. I did every little thing!

Except for one teeny tiny, insignificant little detail. I didn't turn the oven from preheat to bake...

My First Texas Tree!!!!

Behold....
The pictures definitely don't do it justice, but I've got my first Texas tree this year!



Years ago, when my sister was 18 and moved to Florida, my mom and I searched the hills high and low for any Texas ornaments we could find for her tree in Florida. We went to every store we could find to make sure that tree was an accurate representation of the state she was from...



There are some things I don't really think much about until I have a family of my own. I don't decorate my living spaces too much. I don't pick paint swatches or buy antiques for my future home. Although I do have to admit I did buy a white sleigh bed for my daughter to use one day. Right now it works quite nicely as my bed, but I've got plans for a little curly haired tot to use it one day...

But this year, I was missing my family ferociously so I called and asked if she could send me a few ornaments. When I got home yesterday there was a huge box waiting for me...

It was a box chock full of Texas ornaments. Big ones, little ones, Santa's riding chili peppers, garland of rope and horseshoes, cowboys, cowboys riding bulls and much more.



My roomie had fun giggling at me because I had so much fun tearing open that box and looking at each and every ornament. I'm not the real excitable type about stuff but she definitely noticed the sparkle in my eye and the spring in my step as my ornaments went from that box to our Christmas tree.


And yeah, those are boots that I put at the bottom. They might be too much, but I still giggle every time I look at my wondrous, remind me of my roots, Texas Christmas tree...

Light as a Feather

Leanne was crying at the top of her lungs, lying in the dirt road. I was frantic. I'd broken my 10 year old best friend and sister. Her ankle was hurt bad from the looks and sound of it. My knee was bleeding from the fall. The little trail of blood flowing down my leg cutting through the dust and dirt of the road.

I know what Leanne needed. Mom. She needed Mom. How do I get her there? She couldn't walk, and I couldn't put her on the bike we'd just fallen off of. Egh, what do I do? What do I do? I can't leave her lying in the road by herself, even though I could see the house. She didn't want to be left alone. I could yell, but there's no guarantee Mom would hear us in the house.

The story goes that I picked her up, put her arms around my neck and carried her up the road home like she was a baby. I remember the crunch of road beneath my shoes, the sound of my breath, and cooing her into calming down a little, her soft whimpers, and the slight tinge of pain as our weight went down on my knee as I got her home.

I'm 11 at this point and hadn't done much weight training in my life. (I've still not done much weight training since I was 11.) And yet I'm positive Someone Else was helping me carry her to Mom. That or He just shortened the road...

That Miller Girl...

I miss my family tonight. No wailing and gnashing of teeth, I just plain ol' miss them. This picture sits on my grandfathers' desk as I type this. Its of my sister. She is 9 months old in this photograph. This picture is one of the reasons I'll have more than one child, God willing He blesses me with them. You see, she's my best friend. And we had the most wonderful adventures when we were little...

I was my sister's childhood hero. Or heroine if you will. If you ever have the pleasure of meeting the most charming, intelligent, beautiful Miller girl, she'll tell you she thinks I'm one of the grandest things God put on the face of this earth. Which is fine because I think the same of her as well.

We don't see each other much anymore. Usually once every six months. Life just takes you in different directions. But when we're together, the sun is brighter, the sky is bluer, and we can both talk each others' ears off. My sister likes to tell stories of when I saved her, protected her, etc. I frankly think they get more grand as time goes by, so I'll give you my version of a few of the stories and you can talk to her if you want to hear her side of it.

Legs was eighteen hands high. And for a 9 year old (leanne) and a 10 year old (me), that's pretty tall for a horse. He was generally good-natured, not like the very proud showhorse Spike that we had as well. Legs and Spike were corralled in, but for the most part just roamed around our ten acre vineyard. We had some type of fence, whether barbed or electric to keep everything both in and out.

One day, Leanne and I were on Legs. I was in the back of the saddle, Leanne was in the front. Leanne was happy in the front and I like making her happy, so in the front she sat. Legs was meandering around towards the main road and just kind of walking along. Stress free, happy as a lark. We're giggling about something, as little girls tend to do, and all of the sudden Legs bolts straight for the fence.

I'm still not sure to this day what made that danged ol' horse spook, but he could get up and go, and with his long stride, hence his name, he was making extremely fast progress towards that fence. He was going to try and jump that fence with both of us on him which would more than likely throw both of us. Or he was going to balk at the fence, throw both of us, either over the fence or onto it. Neither of these options is a pleasant thing for two little girls.

As Legs is booking it towards that fence, Leanne understandably gets scared and drops the reins. Not the best idea, but really, can you fault her? All I can remember is thinking no way is this horse going to have the straight up gall to scare my sister much less throw her off him. So I reach around so I'm holding Leanne but trying to grab the reins as well. I get a hold of them and tug and tug and tug. He's got to stop or we are going over that fence. Now, I've never weighed a lot and weighed even less at age 10. And to this day I'm pretty sure Someone Else was helping with that horseflesh cuz sure enough Legs skidded to a stop about four inches from that fence. Leanne calls it my Charlton Heston move.

I get off and walk Legs back up to the house. Keeping Leanne on him for a little while so she's not completely terrified of him because of this experience. Then she gets off him, and we walk hand in hand back up to the house. My other hand was firmly holding Leg's reins.

He might be a bottle of Elmer's by now...

Someone Else's Future Husbands...

A friend of mine recently gave me a gift. He gives me really good things to read and this time it was "Did I Kiss Marriage Goodbye?" by Carolyn McCulley. Now before you freak out and think I'm writing this from inside the walls of a nunnery, hear me out...

I myself have issues with commitment. Especially of the marriage kind. Yes, I'm a girl, and let's face it, in my weakest moments I think Gosh, this would be easier if someone was fighting for me. However, at this time, 9:59pm on November 20, 2006, I question my desire for it. I think it sometimes gets in the way of my relationship with Him. I think its more of a want of mine than a desire from Him. I don't need anyone to complete me. Jesus is more than I could ever ask for. And yet why do I have the desire for human companionship? (It's rhetorical, don't answer it please...)

In the book it talks about using the opportunities, years, decades, minutes God gives you as single women to minister to those around you. It also said that in a godly marriage, the two of them serve God together and are even more effective as a pair than they were alone. That sounds amazing and definitely representative of the few godly marriages I have the privilege to see.

It says a lot of good things, some that are relative to me in my life and some that aren't. The proverbs 31 chic is mentioned in the fact that her role as a wife didn't define her. She was already a lot of those things before she was a wife. And it says that we are worth 100% of his attention when he's pursuing us. Yeah, I struggle with self-worth, who doesn't these days? I cringe to think that I'd have to convince someone to be interested in me. That's NOT God's idea. I think that's the best, and most manipulative, way to start off on the wrong foot.

It also mentions that we as single women should treat single guys like someone else's future husbands. I had to go back and read that a few times before it sunk in. And then made me look at the friendships I have with the men I hold as dear friends, single and married alike. Do I treat them the same? Married and single? Do I look at you and think, yep, someone else's hubby right there?

Because let's face it, if there is a whisper of anything in my single guy friends, my God-honoring responsibility to both of us is to tug on His shirtsleeve, ask Him about you, and then leave you on that altar. If God deems it a wise idea, He'll let the guy know if I'm to catch his eye and more importantly invest his heart in. Its amazingly humbling to realize how many friendships I've ruined, past and present, because I didn't leave you on the altar where you belonged.

But in all this, I hope to look back one day and think that I took advantage and loved as many people as I could while I was single. This too shall pass... And I want to hear good and faithful servant, not look back and think that I wasted time worrying about me instead of loving on others...

I'm not sure if any of that made sense...

Never a Mere Mortal...

Last night I babysat again. Kaitlin and Connor came. Kaitlin is 5 and her brother Connor is 3. They come tearing into the room, Kaitlin is smiling and calling me Ms. Allison and running to give me a hug. I help her take off her coat, then its Connor's turn. As I'm doing this, their mom says, Kaitlin just absolutely loves you. She was so excited to come today and couldn't stop talking about seeing you. I'm not sure what to say to that, so I just tell her we have a lot of fun playing together. Which is entirely true.

Her mom leaves and Kaitlin comes over to hug me. I ask her about school today and what new words she can spell. She's in the middle of spelling something like bus or dog and stops and says, Ms. Allison, I like you. I was certainly caught off guard. That this child wanted my time and attention. We hang out one night a week for a little over two hours and she likes me. I don't understand it at all but it sure is nice. I'm pretty sure God loves on me through those children.

I was telling a friend of mine this story this morning and his response was "Yes he did, and a large part of it is that you allowed "the Jesus in you" to be apparent to the little one, and Jesus is very attractive to those who need Him...plus you are fun, you just have to admit it."

He knows I'm a C.S. Lewis fan so I always perk up when he gives me anything along those lines. This is what he sent along with talking about the Jesus in me, who is the same Jesus in you by the way....

C. S. Lewis on the fact that you've never spoken to a mere mortal:

It may be possible for each to think too much of his own potential glory hereafter; it is hardly possible for him to think too often or too deeply about that of his neighbor. The load, or weight, or burden of my neighbor's glory should be laid daily on my back, a load so heavy that only humility can carry it, and the backs of the proud will be broken. It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilization--these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit--immortal horrors or everlasting splendors. This does not mean that we are to be perpetually solemn. We must play. But our merriment must be of that kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously--no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption. And our charity must be real and costly love, with deep feeling for the sins in spite of which we love the sinner.

Higgs in the Driver's Seat...

Here is my nephew Higgins and his dad, Munch. They're in Mom's car...
And looking at his face makes me smile...

How Do I Kill Hope?

My friend Nathan posted about his desire to be a husband and father recently. As I was reading his blog, a few things made me think. One, I didn't know men thought about wives and families. Two, I'm a frustratingly over analyzer of pretty much everything. Big things, little things, details, etc. What helps me remember your birthday and what would bring a smile to your eyes when turned inwardly makes me nitpick every wrong thing about me.

I have a post-it note on my computer that references 1 Peter 3:3a-4. Your beauty should not come from outward adornment...Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight. He's talking to wives in this passage and I'm not one. Its not ok with my family, but its more than fine with me as long as I'm "of worth in God's sight." And last time I looked He said I was white as snow, so that's always nice to hear.

I don't have a gentle and quiet spirit at the moment. I've been fighting my heart for a while now, and I'm just weary today. My heart and mind are at odds. My mind holds to the rational, this is how it should be. My heart holds on to hope.

I'm trying to kill that hope and it's harder than I thought it would be. But I'm doing my best and trying to. In my effort to protect you from the crazy I know I am, I keep you at arms distance. I've been doing it with a lot of my friends lately. I do my best to check on you and see how you are, pray for you till I'm blue in the face, read your blogs, send you a text. Stay faded in the background but making sure you're taken care of. Its the best way I can show you how much you mean to me without actually spending time with you. And is the only way I figure to protect you from me. I have no problem admitting I love you enough to protect you from me.

Ann is great at calling me out on it. Just today she hadn't heard a good morning from me and was suspicious. I'm glad she followed her heart and snagged me. I need those, hey! snap out of it people in my life. She is definitely one of them. If I'm too quiet, or if God's just like, Ann, check on Allison, she consistently follows through with that. (I don't tell you nearly enough, but I appreciate you Ann!)

Today Katie asked me why inconsistent love annoyed me. What she didn't know was that I was talking about a female character in a tv show called lost. The character goes back and forth in the affections of her heart between two male characters in the show. I just don't think love should be like that. I think it should be steady, faithful. That's the kind of love I'd ask for, a stable hand to hold mine. I don't know that kind of love. I hope one day it will pursue me, but I kind of already feel sorry for my husband. He's going to have to sit me down and spell it out for me. And probably use small words....Ha ha. Because then I'm just going to try and convince him I'm not worth the trouble. Here's hoping he can call my bluff...

One Shy Lion & One Shy Leo

Last night I went to a halloween party. Which I'm sure a bunch of people did as well considering the season. I went with a cg to someone's house where they had hot dogs, balloons with glo-sticks for the kids, and of course as much candy a table could hold.

It was fun. I think I lost a lot of blood due to the mosquitoes, but it was so great seeing all the little kids dressed up. There were pirates and princesses and power rangers, faceless boys, fairies, and I even got to meet peter pan.

However, my favorites were these two brothers. In the daytime they walk around as a 3 and 4 year old named Joshua and John Cole, but on this halloween night, they were not little boys. Joshua was a Lion, and John Cole was Bob the Builder. Um, be still my heart, they were the cutest little things I've seen in a while. I didn't even know these boys but Joshua had little round cheeks with a huge puff of fur around his face, tripping over his tail a little when he walked up to the candy bowl. Then he pushed up his little wire rimmed glasses before shyly asking for a piece of candy. Just completely precious.

John Cole was just as cute. Excuse me, Bob, was just as cute. He had a yellow hard hat, toolbelt, very much the big brother. Except for the fact that his hardhat was tilted to the side a little because it was a bit big. And he knew exactly where his candy went, straight into his toolbox of course!

Gotta Hate Those Stinking Christian...

I was flipping through looking for a friend of mine's wordpress today. I've deleted my myspace page so I've lost some of my connections. I was glancing through this and found this link. The name of the post was Gotta Hate Those Stinking Christian... His name is well, he doesn't leave his name actually. Hmm. I thought that was odd, but whatever.

I caution you before you read this. It's not nice, its not pretty and if you aren't grounded in who you are, I'd ask that you don't read this. Titus 1:9 says he must hold firmly to the trustworthy message as it has been taught, so that he can encourage others by sound doctrine and refute those who oppose it. He's talking about elders in that passage but i think its a piece of wisdom we could all use.

There's a lot of this that is heart-breaking. Part of me wanted to stop reading. (I don't need to stick my face in a cow patty to know that it smells bad.) But another part of me wanted to see what his view was. He's obviously an intelligent person. He's an atheist who doesn't preach atheism. He doesn't believe there is a God and makes sweeping generalizations about Christians. He's found exactly what he needs to back up his claim that we are brainwashed.

And yet reading this got me excited about my faith. Which is probably not his point in writing this. When he says, "And there are even people with the mission to seek and convert every single person in the world. They just can't resist. Look at this and this and tell me they don'’t make you feel a little disgusted. These people are systematically converting the entire world."

Yes we are. That's the whole point. I want this man to know the God I serve. The God who loves his brilliant mind and razor sharp tongue. I want him to talk to Him about his doubts and questions and truly seek Him. I pray one day he'll take his questions to the One who can answer all of them...

When God Plays With Us...

Courtney and I went on a picnic yesterday. We randomly do that. It's completely silly, completely fun and just a breath of fresh air for the both of us. I had my canes (chicken strips...and as many extra pieces of toast they could give me...) and she had her jason's deli (a pile of rabbit food with a fruit cup.) I'm pretty sure Courtney will live longer than me.

Anyhoo, so we are eating our food, catching up with each others' lives. The past few weeks have been busy in different ways for both of us. We're chatting, giggling, almost falling off the bleachers... Ok, that was me. I'm grace personified, let me tell you. We finish our respective meals. Courtney is eating her fruit cup and I'm picking out the grapes in it. I grab one, sit up straighter, say here goes, and toss it into the air. It comes down a little faster than I was expecting (9.8 m/s/s) and plops into my mouth. We're very excited about it. It's now Courtney's turn. She says something along the lines of, I've never been able to do this. I cheer her on. (I think my friends can do pretty much anything.) So she sits up, mumbles something that sounds very much like Philippians 4:13 and throws the grape into the air. Its one of the highest tosses I've seen. It's coming straight down, I'm holding my breath, and Wham! lands right into her mouth! We both start doing a victory dance because it was just that exciting. The best part about it was the look of surprise on her face when she turned to me with the grape in her mouth. It was very much a "did that just happen?" look. And then says, it was because I said Philippians 4:13! We just erupt into more giggles, thrilled with our little grape game.

And Philippians 4:13 that she is talking about? "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me."

Not Good With Boys...

I'm not good with little boys. Or big boys come to think of it, but that's an entirely different blog. Since it was Thursday night, I was babysitting. And Connor decked me today. Connor is about three feet tall. Can talk your ear off. And also loves to get right in your face when he wants to talk to you.

Tonight I noticed his shoe was untied. I told him to give me that leg so I can tie his shoe, thinking he's going to put his leg on my knee since I was sitting down. Nope, he's still at the age when he likes to be held, but only when its his decision to be held. He plops down on my lap and throws his head back. And knocks my chin so hard I saw stars. Of course then he wants his shoe tied and I'm trying to not let him fall off my lap cuz I'm still smarting from his blow.

I was telling Ms. Diane, the lady I work with, if I have boys, I'll have no idea what to do with them. I don't know how to explain it, they're just...boys... And I am clueless as to how to deal...But bruised chin or not, the little guy makes me grin.

Being in Love at 25...

I'm in love. And its been a long time coming, let me tell you. It began when He and I started holding hands when I was eight. And its grown and hopefully matured as we've gotten closer and I've gotten older. I still don't understand all there is to love. I know there are different kinds. C.S. Lewis says there are four in his book aptly named, The Four Loves. Affection, Friendship, Eros, and Charity. (I heart C.S. Lewis. I think he was a good man with a gift in showing the world the motivations of Christians. Or what those motivations should look like...)

Affection (storge, στοργη) is fondness through familiarity, especially between family members or people who have otherwise found themselves together by chance.

Friendship (philia, φιλια) is a strong bond existing between people who share a common interest or activity. Lewis explicitly says that his definition of Friendship is narrower than mere Companionship; Friendship in his sense only exists if there is something for the Friendship to be about.

Eros (ερος) is love in the sense of 'being in love'. This is distinct from sexuality, which Lewis calls Venus, although he does spend time discussing sexual activity and its spiritual significance in both a pagan and a Christian sense. He warns against the danger of elevating Eros to the status of a god, but he also praises it as an indifferent appreciation of the beloved as opposed to any pleasure that can be obtained from them.

Charity (agape, αγαπη) is a love towards one's neighbor which does not depend on any lovable qualities that the object of love possesses. Lewis sees charity as a specifically Christian virtue, and the chapter on the subject focuses on the need of subordinating the natural loves to the love of God.

My roomie asked me a few days ago what would happen if I let go unashamedly loved. I told her I had no idea. I was too scared to try it. The unknown is not really something I just want to jump into. I'll stick a toe in, but even then its gingerly...

I think the whole point these past few weeks is that He's been waiting for me to not be embarrassed about loving Him. I'm not sure why love has become something I'm ashamed of. I'm embarrassed to love you, Him, me. It comes from my insecurity in that what I have to give you is not worth anything of value. Its not tangible. It won't make your life any better in the long run. (I'm learning to recognize insecurity and putting it up against who He says I am. Let me tell you, the Bible cuts through lies and crap like a hot knife through butter.)

So after knocking down some of the walls I keep up, I've realized the more I let go and love Him, the more opportunities I have to love others. It's quite nice actually. He turns my days into little ways to love. It encourages me to not be so selfish and to take the time and effort to listen and care for others. This might sound silly but I'm completely OK with it. I love Him more than I can write, tell you, show you. I serve Someone who loves me beyond my human comprehension and that just has its effects on me. He told me to love, but I didn't know that in loving Him He'd show off by letting me love others. Mmmm. He's a good Man...

In Absentia...

I haven't been to the Ring in two weeks. Just typing that is weird. The fact that it's true is even weirder. Is weirder a word? Anyhoo, I've not been there. The first week I was in Texas visiting the folks, the second week I was a half a mile away at my house.

I was pretty much like a caged animal last night. I'd been praying about not going since wednesday and truly felt at peace about it. Which once again, was weird. Then last night I was pacing back and forth, cleaning the apartment, paying bills, wondering why I was here when all I wanted to be was up the road with my family. But every time I picked up my keys to go, I'd have the feeling that I was supposed to stay home. I'd sigh, put my keys down and keep my mouth shut. And then proceed to find something else to keep my mind off the fact that I wasn't where I belonged.

And then my cell phone rang at 7:12pm. It was my grandfather. Who for the past few years has been in Iraq. We'd sporadically kept in touch through the mail, but that was flimsy at best. I hadn't verbally spoken to him in years. He's back in the states and here he was, calling me on Sunday night. We talked for a good half hour. It was great. He'd called my mom and she said to not call me because I'd be at church, but he did anyway. He called me a backslider for not being there, but I look at it a bit differently. I'd been given a "no, Allison, stay put," so I did. If I hadn't I would've missed his call.

AND! One of our tech guys recorded the sermon! So I got to hear the message last night just an hour after it was spoken! I definitely missed it yesterday, but it was almost like I was there. Ok, not really. I missed my family something fierce, but I love what He did with the time I wasn't there. That Man, He's always surprising...

Bad Breath is Scary...

Last night I went to a corn maze. Of course, it was a haunted corn maze. I personally am not a big fan of being scared. It just doesn't do much for me. But Misty, Sarah and I were all maze buddies, and yes, there was a small amount of hand-holding going on...

However, before we could go through the maze, we had to stand in line. We had reservations so that was nice, but we still had a little bit of a wait. We're all standing there and this guy decides he's going to try and scare me. He's got sunglasses (its 8:30 at night), a straw hat, and a machete. He walks up behind me, leans over my shoulder, and proceeds to breath heavily into my ear. So knowing that he just wants a reaction from me, I just stand there. It might've scared me but no way was I going to let it show. Besides, the scariest thing about it was his breath. Goodness gracious. If you're going whisper into someone's ear, at least be considerate enough to eat a tic-tac. Or three of them...

When Dad Sends Butterflies...

I walked out onto my parents' patio this evening and before I could plop down into a chair, my father told me to walk to the tree in their backyard. I didn't stop to ask him why, or give him a hard time to explain why I didn't "feel" like walking to the tree. He said go to the tree and so I did.

I walk to the tree, listening to the sound of the sound of the fountain as I pass it. I'm looking into the branches, wondering if I'm supposed to see a birds' nest or something along those lines. I'm standing there under the tree and all of a sudden, my breath is taken away. Dozens of monarch butterflies come out from the tree. They were dancing and swirling in the air. It was just beautiful. All the cares and worries of the day just slipped right out and I just felt completely at peace. As I'm standing there watching them float in the air, I realize that my father reminded me of my Father in that moment.

When God tells me to go or stay, He's got a good reason. Sure I can make it tough on myself and over analyze everything. Why is He telling me to go here? Am I walking fast enough for Him? Am I on the right path? Just knitpicking it to death. When all I really need to do is to trust Him and see what kind of butterflies He's sending my way.

So this is me...walking where I'm supposed to walk, waiting for more of His butterflies...

No More Drama...

So I thought I'd post a little light-hearted fun on here. I like to laugh and be silly and since this is my blog I can talk about whatever I want to. So there. Below you will find things that make me smile, laugh, giggle, guffaw, and pretty much just dadgum grin....

God
Tommy Boy
Propitiation
Scrubs
Baby giggles
My sister
Clever, but not biting, wit
Modesty
The Ring (My church)
Blue skies
The Office (UK & US)
The Texas Flag
Bubbles
Dancing by myself in the shredder room (shhh...)
Worship
When I can make my father laugh
When mom says I've done something to please her
Rain
Puppies (that aren't mine)
Music
Love
Creation
The smell of formaldehyde
Shoes
Chinese Food (I can eat my weight in egg rolls)
Decades walking with Jesus
Sunshine
Road Trips
Gentleness
Chocolate covered strawberries
Wind through my hair
Being barefoot in the grass
Taking walks
Creation
The smell of formaldehyde
Hearing an arrow cut through the wind
Steady hearts

Stumble, stumble, take a tumble...

Today my quiet time was Matthew 28 :1-8...

1After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb. 2There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. 3His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow. 4The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men. 5The angel said to the women, "Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. 6He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. 7Then go quickly and tell his disciples: 'He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him.' Now I have told you." 8So the women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples.

My prayers have been everywhere lately. Up, down, sideways. Very sporadic. My heart is everywhere as well. Sigh.

So I read this scripture this morning wondering why He'd chosen this passage to point out today. That was 8am. It's now 9:46pm and I know exactly why He picked that one. I've highlighted the parts that jump off the page with me.

An angel tells those ladies, don't be scared. Everything is fine. Really. Their reaction? They go to tell the boys, and they're afraid. Happy, but afraid.

I can totally relate.

Betroth (part duh)

Courtney has a camera phone. I forgot we took this... And the best place in your house for lighting? That's right, your loo... Welcome to my shower folks...

Betroth You to Me Forever...

19 I will betroth you to me forever;
I will betroth you in righteousness and justice,
in love and compassion.
20 I will betroth you in faithfulness,
and you will acknowledge the LORD.
Hosea 2:19-20

Once upon a time, a beautiful friend of mine, soon to be married, asked me what I thought of this verse. My response? It's beautiful. I love that he is telling her this is how I will live my life with you and in that you will see Him in my actions...Stunning, really. Her next question? Will you read it at my wedding then? Gulp...o goodness. She said every time she read it, God told her to ask me to read it. Which is pretty amazing and I'm thrilled to be a part of their special day...

So in a few hours, 9 actually, she will become a wife. And somewhere in all that, I will read this passage. I was nervous about it, but figured, hey, just do it once at the rehearsal and you'll have done it. That way, when its game time, you can fall back on, eh, I did it yesterday, today is no problem.

Yeah, I didn't get to do it yesterday. We were all there at the rehearsal at the church, but it was agreed upon that we knew how to read so there's no need to actually run through it. I mean really, how can you mess up reading? I'm pretty sure I hid the panicked look on my face.

O, pshhh, I totally know how to read. I'm 100% confident. Ha! Uh, nope. It's more of an 80/20 confidence limit. This is my first wedding to participate in without being the cake cutter. I'm a pro at cutting cake. But being an actual part of the wedding party is a new experience for me. And new is always a bit awkward for me.

So I've made my family call me and tell me I can do this. My mom raves about my speaking voice, and my sister wants to be here today. I do have a cheering section, they are just fifteen hours away both east and west.

Plus I made a bet with a friend of mine. I gave 5 to 1 odds I'd somehow manage to mess this up...

A New Twist On An Old Woman...

The Proverbs 31 woman. She's quite something. Many a girl has aspirations to be her, or be like her. I don't fit that bill. There's no way I can be her. She's selfless, hardworking, very wifely. I'm mouthy, more lazy than I'll admit to, and am nowhere near close to wifely.

However, I'm reading this book called Sarah Laughed by Vanessa L. Ochs, Ph. D. It takes women from the bible and puts a modern day lesson to their lives and the Proverbs 31 woman is called "The Woman of Valor" in her book. Some of it is a little feminist for my taste. That's another thing I am not. I'm not a feminist. I'm old fashioned, and it still makes my eyes light up when a gentlemen holds the door for a lady. There's just something about a man with manners that will always be appealing to me.

Anyways, she quoted a bit of Esther Broner's "The Woman of Valor:"

Who can find a wise woman?
For her price is far above rubies.
Those in her house safely trust her
For she heeds the words of her children,
She works alongside her husband,
But outside the walls of her house,
Outside the gates of her garden,
She hears the cries in the city,
The cries of women in distress.
She is their rescuer.

She rises at dawn to organize.
She rises before light to make orderly the day.
She stretches out her hand to unchain
The chained woman,
The woman without recourse,
The women not paid their worth on this earth.

She taketh on the men at the gate,
The men of the law-making bodies,
The men of the Bet Din,
The Judges on high.
She looks them in the eye
and says:

This is unacceptable.
This is unjust.
This is cruel.

In her house she is praised.
In the state she is extolled.
Many women have done wisely
But she excels them all.

Yeah, I'm not her either. I was talking to someone the other day about how I see bible heroes in my friends. They asked if I saw myself in any of them. And I told them no. When my friends remind me of biblical characters its because I'm seeing them through my heart, not my eyes. And I've never flipped through and tried to find me in the Bible. I don't want an exact blueprint of my life to live by. I want to take up my cross daily, give it my all to glorify Him, and see what He does with it. The only blueprint I want to emulate is the life of Jesus. Which doesn't fit much into that poem, but I'm ok with that. He will guide my life and I will do my best to heed His calling for whatever that looks like.

The Wrath of Man...

I was reading up on the guy who killed five girls in an amish schoolhouse. The title of it was "PA Shooter Angry at God." You can check out the article here.

We've been talking about the wrath of God for the past few days. At church, then at cg last night. I don't understand His version of wrath. I can read about it and wonder, but thankfully, due to Christ dying on the cross for me, I'll never experience it. Yay propitiation! Now His discipline, yes, that I experience but that's another blog entirely...

This guy was mad, maybe even wrathful, at God because his infant daughter died. Yes, that is sad. I can't imagine losing a child. However, that doesn't warrant going to a school, taking children hostage, then shooting them and then yourself. And blaming God for your actions. I don't think so. It's called free will. You do want you want to do. I do want I want to do. We are given the choice to make those decisions and it frankly irritates me that when people do evil, they throw God's name in it to somehow justify it. Nuh-uh. Have the courage to own up to your actions and motives...

And now I'm stepping off my soapbox...

Brown Eyed Alarm Clock

A few nights ago I helped Courtney babysit. It was an overnight job so I slept in her bed with the 2 year old and she slept next to the almost 1 year old.

Courtney's bed is slightly offset so there is a space on each side. Which adds a fall-off factor to the night. I'd put a dolphin shaped pillow on the floor on his side and asked God if he rolls off the bed, please let him land on the dolphin pillow. And I go to sleep.

Around 2am he falls off the bed. I shoot over to the side expecting to hear wailing. Nope, not a peep. He landed on the dolphin pillow and was still fast asleep. Now my dilemma is how to get him back onto the bed. There's not enough space for the width of my body to fit, but plenty of room for a two year old body to roll off. I end up straddling the side of the bed with one leg and albeit a tight squeeze, I was able to grab him and put him back on the bed. Then I made a cocoon of the comforter that will hopefully keep him in while he sleeps.

He's a bit of a wiggleworm. And every time he moved I'd wake up and put an arm around him to make sure he wasn't going to roll off the bed. Which means I got zero amount of sleep. I didn't want to make him hot by keeping an arm on him so I just catnapped so I'd know when he turned.

Around 4am, his sister starts wailing at the top of her lungs. Which didn't really bother me since I was awake. Courtney would shake her crib and she'd stop crying. What's odd is that she was still asleep while she was crying.

7am comes around and I'm laying on my back, asleep (finally). I open my eyes, thinking he must have rolled off the bed again. Nope, he's awake and his little brown head is about an inch from my face and looking at me. So I smile and say good morning, is it time to wake up? "Yes." He and I then discuss that it would in fact not be time to sleep some more, it was however definitely time to get up and start the day. And that's what we did.

Gosh, just typing this makes me want to go take a nap...

Dear Reader:

Howdy.

I'm WAY more comfortable shouting to the rooftops about what God has done in my family. Certainly more so than letting you know, uh, I'm a little freaked out here and not sure what the eight step plan is to accepting my mom having cancer.

Back story...two weeks ago my mom had a biopsy done. She had a spot about the size of a pencil eraser about an inch under her left eye. She was diagnosed with stage 1 melanoma. Which is only a little bit of cancer (God is gracious), but our family is relatively healthy as a horse so it was slightly intimidating that my mom had been diagnosed with the big C. Surgery was scheduled for Oct. 3 to have the offending spot removed. Its removed by taking off one layer of skin at a time, looking at it to see if it still has cancer cells in it, and then going on to the next layer until you reach healthy skin. (I've been reading up.)

Leanne (sister) stresses that mom needs to get a 2nd opinion, but this surgeon wants her to go in for every spot and have this 4-6 hour surgery done for each spot. Needless to say, we are less than thrilled with that idea.

Leanne emails a perfect stranger, albeit Texan, who is the head cancer specialist for one of the major hospitals in west Texas. We didn't expect a reply, figuring that he's a very, very busy man. Well, lo and behold, he sure enough does, with a personal recommendation for a Dr. C. He says he's really hard to get into, but call and see if we could get her an appointment.

I call the office on Monday, praying and sweating bullets that they can get her in. I talk to a very nice woman named Tiffany, and tell her about my mom's situation and is there any way to get her in. 30 seconds go by as she flips through her appointment book. There's nothing available...And then she says wait! I can squeeze her in at 3:15 this Thursday. Again, I recognize God's handiwork in all this....

My parents live in a small town. And my dad told one of his secretaries that they were going to get a 2nd opinion with a Dr. C. She says, Dr. C? How did you get an appointment with him? We use him and he takes months to get an appointment! Once again, God shows up in this...

So Mom had her 2nd opinion appointment yesterday. Dr. C was great, he was an "old codger" but he checked out every little spot on her body and said the only one showing signs of cancer was the one that the biopsy was done on. She's got a lot of spots, but only ONE looked troublesome. (Yep, pretty positive that was God too.) Mother really liked the nurses and pretty much the whole office itself. Sigh, God is great, once again...

Dr. C is sending her to a plastic surgeon because the spot is so close to her eye and it gets kind of tricky when its close to eyeballs. Her appointment is for Oct. 10. She will not be having the surgery on Oct. 3.

As for me, I'm doing good, in a surreal kind of way. It's over. The past two weeks have been heaven and hell pretty much. Even when I thought I lost sight of Him, He remained faithful. And speaking of losing sight, I owe all of you an apology.

I have a post-it note on my computer with Gal. 6:10 on it. It says, Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers.

I belong with you. You are my family. Yet I've kept you somewhat at arms length through this. I'm not sure how ok you would be with me if you actually knew how much I can be a crazy, scared and selfish brat. I'm very sorry for not trusting you to walk with me through this. Please forgive me. For those of you who pushed through my hypocrisy and vulnerability to love and care for me, thanks.

And most of all, thank you to all of you for all the prayers for us. They are appreciated more than I can tell you.

Sincerely,
Allison

Old and New Miracles...

Last night I was babysitting at church. Courtney taught me how to burp a baby. You really do have to kind of smack 'em. Who knew? Certainly not me! Anyways, that's not the story I'm telling you...

When the parents started coming in, Ms. Diane said my name, and a mom turned around and said, Allison? Allison Miller? (I smile the bemused smile of, o crap, what have I done?) I nod, and reply, Yes Ma'am, that's me. She says, well, I've been wanting to meet you for some time. (Same bemused, even more befuddled look on my face... ) How's your job? Congratulations on that! I'd seen your resume going around and you just got a job so fast here in Baton Rouge, I was just amazed!

She's talking about when my old job was put in peril because of government funding. I was in the ok, God, what now? state of mind. I'd given my resume to someone and various people started looking around with me as well. Two to three weeks later, in the somewhat scary Baton Rouge job market, God led me to a great job. I've been there over three months now...It's now an old miracle, but still hasn't lost its wonder...

Now on to new miracles. I'm friends with a couple that have been trying to have a baby for going on five years now. We were talking about letting go of complete control of the situation and handing all of it over to Him. She said that she'd just gotten to the point where she gave every single bit of it over to Him.

I asked her if I could tell my community group about it. She said sure, and I promptly asked them to pray. Five DAYS later she walks in to tell me they're expecting! I'm not positive that our prayers had anything to do with it, but I am positive that God uses His timing perfectly so that we have the option to glorify Him in His surprises...

The Horse Whisperer

1As they approached Jerusalem and came to Bethphage and Bethany at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two of his disciples, 2saying to them, "Go to the village ahead of you, and just as you enter it, you will find a colt tied there, which no one has ever ridden. Untie it and bring it here. 3If anyone asks you, 'Why are you doing this?' tell him, 'The Lord needs it and will send it back here shortly.' "

4They went and found a colt outside in the street, tied at a doorway. As they untied it, 5some people standing there asked, "What are you doing, untying that colt?" 6They answered as Jesus had told them to, and the people let them go. 7When they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks over it, he sat on it. 8Many people spread their cloaks on the road, while others spread branches they had cut in the fields. 9Those who went ahead and those who followed shouted,

"Hosanna!"
"Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!"
10"Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David!"
"Hosanna in the highest!"

I was reading this story (Mark 11) today in my car. It's where I have my quiet time. I sit in my car in my parking lot at work. Yesterday, a coworker, gave me a hard time about it, but frankly, that don't matter a hill a' beans to me. My heart needs that quiet morning and digging into His word. It makes for a much better day than when I shrug Him off.

Anyways, so I'm reading this story and a few things stuck out at me. One, it reminds me of Easter, which is my favorite holiday, yes, Christmas is fun, but I just like Easter better. Two, He rode a colt into town. Not an old wise horse who knew the road, knew the people and other animals on the road. He chose a youngin' to bring Him.

Let me tell you a little bit about colts. Especially colts who have not been broken. Broken, or broken in, means that they have gotten used to a saddle/rider. Before they are broken in, they are referred to as green. They're skittish. They jump at the slightest surprise. They freak out when you try to just put a saddle blanket on their backs. They're not used to the weight or feel of it and it scares them. They shy away, run, or kick.

To make a colt comfortable it takes hard work, patience, and understanding. The trainer has to recognize what kind of weight or situation the horse is ready for. It could start out with just running a hand down them, and then move up to a brush, then part of the saddle blanket, the blanket itself, an empty, untied saddle, and so on until the horse is ready for its first human rider. Said rider should have catlike reflexes in case he/she needs to make a quick exit in case the horse spooks.

But not Jesus. He didn't need any of that. The colt was brought in, Jesus sat on him, and away they went into town. The story doesn't say, on the way there, the colt spooked and threw Him. I think it shows another example of Jesus' effect on everything He touched. The colt was at peace with His weight. I bet that little horse never forgot his first Rider...

My Own Book of Psalms?

I believe the Bible is God's word spoken through men. I'm in no way comparing myself to any of those dudes in the Bible...That's my disclaimer and I'm sticking to it...

me: it was just unexpected. just like all the other pure shinolah i've been blindsided with lately
God remains faithful
its just surprising the crap he's trying
Ann: it's intensified for sure
i'm proud of you
me: thanks, but i don't think you should be
Ann: why?
you're proclaiming God's faithfulness, even during a very scary season - that takes guts and it tales faith
me: and gets me slammed even harder
Ann: of course it does
me: not complaining, cuz it means i'm doing something right
Ann: exactly
me: but dang
Ann: i feel you
me: i'm now trying to shrug off self-pity and self-righteousness
i choose my steps and words hopefully wisely
Ann: i think you are doing great, from what i've seen
me: :) thanks Ann
Ann: np, love
just remember that we are meant to fight alongside one another , so when you get tired or start believing the lies, please ask for help
me: I do. its just usually Him i'm talking to
Ann: yep, but the Body is His idea... we are meant to fight one another's battles - although i will admit that some battles we have to fight by ourselves
i don't know which one this is in your case, just know that i am here and praying and would be honored to fight alongside you
me: wow. thanks!
Ann: ? for ?
me: for adding honor to my fight
Ann: no problem
although He gave it to you...
me: that fighting spirit? yep
Ann: that too, although i was talking about the honor
me: enough about me. are you blogging more about your trip?
Ann: yeah, i just posted one.
it's been harder than i thought to write about
me: i know the feeling.
i have to pick and choose and separate
the bajillion threads of life going on
then tell the story
of how God is working in it
He's working in all of them
Ann: it's hard, huh?
me: its just which ones I want to shout to the rooftops and which ones I cherish between me and Him
i pretty much use my blog as a tract. a really long, fallible tract
Ann: me too. it's nice to go back and read it, to put the dots together and see His faithfulness over time
me: i need to get some of it published. there's a program where it puts everything into a book format
Ann: that would be awesome
me: better than copying and pasting
Ann: i thought you found one a while back
me: i did but i keep writing
i need to stop
and never blog again
but my story keeps on going,
God keeps wowing me
and my fingers want to tell of
His love and care for me
more so than my mouth
Ann: and that's ok - we are writers - He made us that way
i hope you never stop blogging
me: o goodness
Ann: ?
me: what a long book that would be
maybe my blog is my own Psalms
isn't that a thought?
Ann: that's an awesome thought
me: ha. yeah
Ann: sounds like a post to me
me: right?
Ann: absolutely
me: i'll probably cut and paste from some of this conversation
Ann: that's cool

Bear Hugs and Being There...

My sister called me yesterday and we were laughing about the fact that we are a bit more crazy than usual because of our circumstances. Yeah, we're crazy, I think all females are a bit in their own charming way, but put us in a high stress situation and our crazy tips the scale a little more. We're perfectly sane when it comes to the major decisions, but we're more apt to freak out over something small lately.

On the phone yesterday, she says, Chubs (my nickname), I've just been going up and down emotionally lately. We had company over and I was looking for these Williams-Sonoma nametags and couldn't find them in the kitchen. So I'm throwing things, getting really mad that the maid put them somewhere I couldn't find them and this is my own house and I should be able to find stuff in my own house! Things are being thrown around because she can't find anything so Louis, her hubby, comes in and just wraps her in a bear hug. He says he's sorry about mom. She promptly tells him this has nothing to do with mom. This has to do with her not being able to find anything in her own house. But she knew better and so did he.

We are laughing through her story because I told her I'd quit church about three times since then. Up and down, up and down. I'm trying to keep my sanity in tact but I'm not really sure what the method is to accepting a parent having cancer. I pray a lot, apologize to my friends a lot because I think whatever has just come out of my mouth is a dealbreaker, and pray some more.

I'm amazed at God in all of this. That He's given her a husband who can recognize why she's really upset about something small and that he's her support for her through this. I don't have a husband, but I do have a community/church that is walking with me. God's provided support and encouragement for both of us, just in different ways, but with the same results...

I don't understand gentleness. I don't know how to receive it. But He's just being so delicate with all of us through this. Wow, it's amazing...

Second Opinions

Ok, so through God's sense of timing, I was able to make an appointment with a great doctor just an hour away from my folks' house. The first surgeon's office was four hours away.

She's scheduled to see doc number two this Thursday and her first surgery (with the old doc) is next Tuesday. Fatty and I are trying to get it to where there are not a lot of visits to the surgeon, hopefully just one or two, but that all depends on doc number two's findings...Doc number one wants to do one spot at a time and frankly, leanne and I aren't too thrilled at that. We figure, do as much as you can as few times as possible. We don't like Mom being sore or in pain...

I was checking up on the hospital Mom will be going to if she has anything done and they've got a brand new cancer center so Mom would have the smell of fresh paint and sparkling walls to greet her.

God's keeping His hand in this and on all of us...

I'll praise Him even when...

We are going through a bit of a cancer thing with my mom. I'm sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. I think as a girl, or maybe its just me, talking about it gives me affirmation that while yes, we are going through this, God is still faithful.

We found out Friday morning. Stage 1 melanoma. Which is just a teensy weensy bit of cancer. Certainly nothing God can't handle. I'm stubborn as all get out, and the rest of my family is the same. We're getting a second opinion to see if its spread all over or if its localized. She's scheduled for surgery Oct. 3, but that depends on what doc number two says.

Now I'm in the weird awkward phase of belonging to a community where I don't know what I'm feeling a lot of the time, and they don't really know how to ask me. It's quite a pickle.

The infuriating thing is watching how Satan is "arrogantly throwing things at me." That's what one of my friends told me today in an email. I was telling her that it was odd last night sitting there in a congregation of hundreds and having a whisper point out that the total number of people who've checked on her is less than the fingers on one hand.

It's scary to recognize evil when I'm sitting in the one place that I feel safest. I feel like he's a trespasser and shouldn't be anywhere around near the ground where I meet with the Almighty. And he didn't pounce on me. It wasn't a huge clanging symbol, just a sentence that took hold in my head. He twists things. I'm not new to fighting but I am new to him trying to get at me at every single turn. He's starting to frankly piss me off and he needs to freagin' back off before I tell God on him. Maybe that's one of the lessons I need to be learning through this. Tattle as often as possible to Him.

I don't want to only talk about my mom all the time, but at least asking about her reaffirms my theory that you care. And yes, much to my shame, I've guilted people into listening to what's going on in my life. (Ouch. That's humbling.)

In all of this God's been great. More than great. Yeah, parts of this have sucked. Getting an ever so gentle yes instead of the resounding NO I was hoping for has been interesting. Fighting to keep my trust in Him while I'm getting slammed has been exhausting but great exercise, and having friends tell me they'll help me move back to the promised land has been both funny and kind.

This experience is something that is stretching me and my fledgling faith, opening my eyes to the community and family I'm a part of, the heart that beats within me, and the God who has complete and sweet control over all of it.

Sure I'll piss and moan about it, but I wouldn't trade walking through this with Him for the world!!!!

Is That Me or him?

I had a bit of a breakdown today. That post beneath is the tip of the iceberg.

8 Keep falsehood and lies far from me;
give me neither poverty nor riches,
but give me only my daily bread.
proverbs 30:8

Trouble is coming out of the woodwork and completely blindsided me. Sunday night I gave God complete control over a high priority experience in the scheme of my life. I've not taken it back, and man I've taken a beating.

God has remained faithful through all of it. Various loved ones have spoken truth into my life and for that I'm so grateful. Tonight I was telling the lady I babysit with that I'm just getting slammed by really weird things lately. Do you know what this wise woman said? "Satan knows you've given it all to Him, that's why he's hitting you as hard as he can. He's been around here longer than we have."

I'm not sure why Satan would bother with me to be perfectly honest. And I hesitate to use the word attack or think that Satan is behind every hard hit I've taken this week. A lot of the time, my mouth gets me into the situations I find myself in, yet something is different about this week. The bad stuff is so much more angry. Like its dripping in malice. The encouragement is sweet and slips into my heart with soothing gentleness. I know from Whom that is coming.

Little Betrayals

I've gone a little bit crazy today. There are a lot of things going on at the moment. And today they all just kind of crashed in on me.

I've been reading this book. It talks about your heart and keeping it under His authority. The more I read it the more it causes my breath to catch in my throat. Its helping me realize how much day to day sin my life is accustomed to. Pride, self-righteousness, false humility, selfishness, I could easily go on and on. That's not exactly what little girls are made of, but its a painfully accurate self-portrait at the moment.

I know who I am and to Whom I belong. And yet I act like the base animal I used to be. Every sin a betrayal to the One who made me into a new creature.

Words Not Needed Here...

Jay and Eee

Tonight Courtney and I babysat for a marriage class that meets on Tuesday nights. I played with a two year old, a six year old and a nine year old.

There was a baby there. His name was Jace. I didn't go near him. I don't trust myself with babies. I always think that I'm going to break them. They're so little and they might not like me. Well, Jace was perfectly adorable. I managed to not touch him except when I walked by him at the end of the night. I just touched his hair. He was so soft! Oh my gosh, those things are amazing. He was yawning and plumb tuckered out. And for some reason, my arms just wanted to curl up with him. Hence the avoiding him as much as I could.

Courtney said she couldn't wait for me to be a mom. I can wait. I'm in no rush. Now, while I'm in no rush to be a mom, I think I'll be an ok one one day. I can't be that bad, right? So Courtney was talking about my future family and how many kids I would have and what I would name them, etc.

I don't have a binder full of pictures and ideas for my wedding. I don't write Mrs. before my name "just to practice." I am done trying to figure out the whys and whens of my life. God's gonna take care of everything, and I'm through putting trust in my own abilities in all the situations in my life.

So Courtney was asking me what my middle name was. Deanne. My mom's middle name is Deanne too. God willing, I'll have a daughter and my husband will be gracious enough to let her middle name be Deanne too. Elizabeth Deanne. I've always like the name Elizabeth. I'd nickname her Eli. Not Beth, or Eliza.

Then she asked me, well, what if God gives you a boy? Hmm. Well, frankly, having not been raised in a house of men, I'd not thought about it much. I like the name Jadin. I've not thought about the spelling too much. As for his middle name, I got nothing.

Ha, talk about counting your chicks before they hatch, huh?

Why Wouldn't I?

A thought has been flitting through my head and heart the past few hours. I've just been to cg. There are a lot of serious things going on in peoples' lives. God gives you, me, us, situations that hurt. And tonight I was heartened to hear of what we are going through.

Hear me out. I'd much rather go through something painful with Him, than have someone who doesn't know Him go through hurt and pain alone. He trusts me to walk through this with Him. What an honor! What a privilege! That God has given us as believers the opportunity to walk through pain and heartache, trusting Him to give us the strength to endure and persevere through it.

I'm amazed that He trusts me to go through the muck and mire of life. What better opportunity will I have to reflect Him in my life than when He's the only one I'm relying on in my darkest hours? He's equipped me with exactly what I need to rely on Him for every situation. EVERY SITUATION.

I was talking with my mom about situations in life today. She's going through one right now in her life. I told her that I gave her to Him last night. It was an odd feeling telling her that I'd put her up on His altar to do whatever He is going to do. We talked about her walk with Him.

Then we started talking about the specifics of her situation. I was very calm, cool, and collected. I rationally, and in a very grown up way I think, listened to her talk about what was going on. If this occurred, if that occurred. I'm the oldest in my family so I'm the one who bears the responsibility of whatnots and if thens. I found out that I have a limit. I can only discuss very calmly unthinkable things for about twenty minutes then I had to ask her to change the subject. I'm only so strong.

It's a very great and wondrous thing that He's given this for me to walk through. I'm truly humbled and honored at the opportunity to glorify Him in this.

Wow, I Miss...

I'm in an odd mood today. The weather is grey, flighty, and seeps into the crevices of my heart. Melodramatic? I think so. Last night at church was almost indescribable. I walked in hurting and walked out smiling and trusting Him. It truly was a memorable night for me, it was just emotional. I try so hard to keep it in and then turn into a complete mess of tears, mascara, and smiles when He's near me. I'm not nearly as courageous or trusting as I want to be, but last night He was reassuring beyond my imagination or understanding.

I miss my family today. We're spread out. My sister and her husband are in Florida, my parents are in west Texas, and I'm somewhat in the middle of them in Louisiana. Its a fifteen hour drive to Mom and Dad, and a fourteen hour drive to Leanne and Louis.

God's given me a family here. If you're reading this, you're probably part of it. I wouldn't trade you for the world, but I wouldn't mind hugging my mom and seeing my dad smile at me. Just for a little while.

Blegh, rainy days make me think too much...