Beard Trimming 101

I went to Texas this weekend. It was a bit of a rushed trip, seeing that I left Friday morning and got back home Sunday afternoon. I went to meet my mom and take her and a few of her friends to their class reunion. So I meet them in Humble, outside of Houston, load them up in my car, then drive to Madisonville. Madisonville is the closest town that has a motel. It's also the Mushroom Capitol of Texas.

So Friday and Saturday is spent driving around visiting family. We also met with a funeral director and finalized the details about when my grandmother and uncle pass. My grandmother is getting older and has some health challenges. My uncle has some health challenges too.

Speaking of my uncle, I know you might find it hard to believe, but he's quite a character. He's the only boy in a family of four kids so he was spoiled rotten as a kid. He's still a rotten kid. When I walk into his house, he says something about how he's gotta clean up his language now that I've walked in. I tell him he better. We have that kind of a friendship. He tries to tell a dirty joke, I cut him off midway about how he's not old enough to be telling dirty jokes. We've done it for years. It's now a tradition for the two of us. But he does really try to clean up his language while I'm there. After we are there for a few minutes, he turns to me and says, "Big Al. Do you have a steady hand?" I reply with a, "Depends on what you want me to do." He then says, "Will you trim my mustache? There are a pair of scissors on the windowsill."

He's asking me to trim his mustache because he can't. Physically, he can't. He was in a car wreck when I was young. He's paralyzed all along his left side. Which means he's got the use of his right hand, and a bit of his right leg, but that's it. Now, I've never trimmed a man's mustache before, but I was going to get a crash course in men's facial hair trimming. So I get his little comb, tell him to roll out to the porch hair doesn't go everywhere, grab the scissors, and start chopping. I start out going real slow because I'm not sure how to do it, but by the end of it, I was pretty comfortable giving him a trim. And he liked it, so that was cool. I was kinda proud of myself actually. He definitely looked less bushy.

The only challenge was him not laughing while I was two inches from his face with a pair of scissors...

One Smart Cookie

I've come to the conclusion that every single person I've met who has gone/is going to seminary is brilliant. Of course, I only know like six or seven, but still. I'm intelligent enough that I can recognize brilliance when I see/hear it.

In this past week, two of my friends, who shall remain nameless, but both go to seminary, have said wise things. Right out of the mouths of babes. The first remark was, Intimacy Arises Out of Conflict. Now at the time, I agreed with him. And the more I think about it, the more I agree with him. I also recognize that he got it from one of his professors.

The second occurrence that got me thinking was tonight. We've just had Izzos and we're in my car and we're talking about just life in general. I was telling her that God usually has to pull out something shiny to distract me so I don't try and control the things He's working on Himself. So He helps me focus my attention on something. All the while knowing I'm such a child that while He's got my attention to the left, He's working on something else for me on the right that, believe it or not, does not need my assistance at the moment. She says, I was reading something the other day that said if God takes months, or even years, to do something, then it's not going to be some little thing in life. Wow. Good point.

If the God of the Universe has to take months, or even years, of time to do something for me in my life, you can sure bet it's going to be big...

When Birds Hop

I met a friend of mine for Jason's Deli for lunch today. I get one sandwich there. California Club, no Swiss, regular potato chips, and a chocolate chip pecan cookie. I'm a creature of habit. Eating habits are not the point of this story though.

I was sitting outside, waiting for her to get there. I'd brought a book for such a circumstance. Meeting anybody for lunch in BR is crazy right now. One person will always have to wait because of traffic. So I brought "Shopgirl." A friend of mine recommended it and lent it to me. I've not finished it yet, but I'm going to. I can somewhat identify with the main character. There's a bit of language and a bit of other stuff that makes me blush occasionally. But I just skim over some parts and tell myself to not be such a prude. But it's funny and simple in an easy read kind of way.

So I'm sitting out there, enjoying the warm sun on my skin, knowing I can't stay too long in it or I'll burn. It's just toasty enough for me to comfortable. So I'm skimming my reading, trying to watch for her with my nose in a book. Well, there just happens to be four or five little birds hopping around. It was right then and there that I had an epiphany. I love watching little birds hop. They were just skipping around, minding their own business, having what looked like to me lots of fun. They weren't shaking their heads with worry, or frowning about where their next meal would come from. They were just dancing in the sunlight. And then the thought flits through my head that if God can take care of these little hopping skipping sprites, then how much more does He care for me?

After that thought, a small part of me wanted to dance in the sunlight with them.

Wake-Up Call

I woke up this morning at 2:45am. Not my usual wake-up time let me tell you. It wasn't a dream, or thunder during a storm. That came later. It was really stormy the second time I woke up, around 7am.

But the first time I woke up was interesting. It wasn't God telling me to pray, believe me, I asked Him. I didn't wake up with something on my mind. I just woke up, really hot. I hate waking up hot. It's absolutely miserable. You know where your skin is clammy to the touch and you just don't want to move? Yeah, that's how it was. So after talking to God and wondering what was going on, I just let it go and assumed something was going to happen today.

Well, I was wrong. Nothing happened. Unless you count the fact that I got called to begin the interview process for a job here in Baton Rouge that appeals to me. The lady said they'd had a lot of applicants but for some reason my name stuck out. I think the "some reason" was God, but that's just my opinion.

There was also the fact that my sister woke up at 2:45am this morning because of a dream she had...

See, nothing happened.

Coffee, Anyone?

A friend and I met over coffee today. Well, actually I had tea, he had coffee, but that's neither here nor there. (I'm not a big coffee fan.) It was nice. We didn't have an agenda to talk about. Nothing was dripping in drama. No big decisions needed to be made. It was just a relaxing chat and an opportunity to sit and brag on God and what He's been doing in each of our lives.

Of course our lives are full of drama, but I'm learning as I get older to not focus on it. There are better things going on. I'm certainly not to the point where I'm drama free, but I'm slowly learning that worry wrinkles aren't worth it. Now laugh lines are a different story. I'll laugh in a heartbeat. It keeps me young. And while I'm not a big coffee drinker, I've also come to notice that I do like sitting with a steaming cup of chai tea in my hand, shooting the bull with you.

Void Is Not An Option

A friend of mine told me Sunday that God's word never returns void. Then another friend of mine told me later that day that God's presence and power are inseparable. Fast forward to this evening. I've just sent out the cg email and God's asking me to let Him tell me a story. I love a good storyteller and He just happens to be the best one I know so I'm ok with staying up past my bedtime with Him.

So I flip open my Bible, and the story my Bible opens to is Luke 8:22-25. My bible titles it "Jesus Calms The Storm:"

22 One day Jesus said to his disciples, "Let's go over to the other side of the lake." So they got into a boat and set out. 23 As they sailed, he fell asleep. A squall came down on the lake, so that the boat was being swamped, and they were in great danger. 24 The disciples went and woke him, saying, "Master, Master, we're going to drown!" He got up and rebuked the wind and the raging waters; the storm subsided, and all was calm. 25 "Where is your faith?" he asked his disciples. In fear and amazement they asked one another, "Who is this? He commands even the winds and the water, and they obey him."

Having been raised in church, I've heard this story many times. I've colored the coloring sheet of Jesus raising His hand out to calm the storm. I've seen the puppet skit of the ship and the rough waters made out of cardboard. But tonight I saw a couple of different things.

One, it's His idea to go to the other side of the lake. Not theirs. Two, the disciples do what He suggests. They don't wait for confirmation or second guess what He's just told them. Three, the storm is so bad they were in "great danger." Not a storm to scare them, but a storm to take them out. Four, the disciples don't call Him to help until they are in "great danger." Why didn't they call Him at the first sign of it?

Hmm. I do love the way He tells a story...

When I Don't Believe God

Sometimes I don't believe the things I am told. Either by friends, or coworkers, or even God Almighty. I just don't believe Him sometimes. He'll whisper in my ear, or shout it from the rooftops and I'll just shrug Him off. I'll grudgingly acquiesce to whatever He's telling me, and a lot of the times I let it go in one ear and out the other. I believe more in the lie that I'm a loser, then the forever truth that He's made me a victor. I think that comes from years of relying on "feelings" instead of what I know in my head and heart to be God's truth.

But something is different about this time. Maybe I'm starting to believe Him. Maybe I'm realizing that that mustard seed isn't the size of the grand canyon. Maybe He could show off big time if I'll just let Him. Maybe I could persistently remind Him of His promise to keep, nay PLANT, me here. And in reminding Him to keep His promise, it's growing me and helping me trust Him and His ways of taking care and providing for me.

Maybe...Gosh, I hope I'm a girl who is courageous enough to believe in maybes.

When I Look At The Stars...

Tonight God and I hung out on my hammock. He didn't say much. I chatted a little bit but mostly it was just me looking up at the stars. And realizing that not one of them were in my control. Not one single one.

Much as sometimes I'd like to think I'm in control, I'm not. And that is a very, very good thing. The older I get, the more I realize that walking with Him doesn't mean that my life is automatically going to be the easiest or stress free. O yeah, there's plenty of "I could freak out about this" moments in my life. And yet, I'm not. He's given me an interesting life so far and I'm excited to see what else He'll do.

So God and I just sat on my hammock, I thought about Him for a bit, and then pretty much just sat in awe of Him.

Three Days Later...

This was day three of me not taking my pills for the not passing out thing. And I managed to pick a fight, decided to move, and randomly cried out of nowhere. All in one day.

I don't like having to rely on the suppliments I take. But my body seems to be so used to them that it tends to freak out if I don't take them. I don't come from a family of pill takers. My mom has always believed in the holistic approach to medicine. So I take a mind over matter approach. Well, that doesn't seem to work with this body. This body gets real mean real quick if I don't take them. And then I usually have to apologize for whatever magnificent way I've shoved my foot down my throat.

It's humbling to have to rely on two ginormous green horse pills...

Praying Down Heaven

Dad gummit I'm sick and tired of the church body being sick and tired. This past week I've had conversation after conversation with people just feeling like they are being beat down by the circumstances in their lives. I'm a great example of it. I got my feelings hurt this week. Not because of what anyone had necessarily "done" to me. I just looked at the negative and off I went. Leaving grace for no one, including myself. Now I'm trying to break the cycle and I realize that others are going through stuff in their lives as well.

Well, no more. I'm stubborn and refuse to sit quietly by and hear how people are going through the same cycles of hurt. Either through email or IM or phone calls, hurt is everywhere these days. And if one hurts, we all hurt, so I'm going to say a little prayer for all of us as a body...

Heavenly Father, I just want to lift up the body that I'm a part of, right here, right now. God, You know we are going through a funk because You are walking through it with us right now. I ask You in all Your mighty power and glory that You immediately break the cycle of pain and confusion and doubt that is seemingly running rampant in the lives of Your children. People feel like they are trapped in this cycle. Only You can deliver us from this and I ask that You immediately take us out of it. If You deign that we are to walk through this, then let us walk boldly and confidently in You. Give us freedom no matter what circumstances we are in Lord. Give us the peace and joy that comes from knowing and living in You! I humbly ask it, but expect great things from You, in Your son's name, AMEN!

Goodness, I feel better already...

Drama Filled Center

I'm addicted to drama. Really. I don't want to be, and yet I am. Paul and I would definitely have stuff to talk about. The first sign of trouble and I'm up in arms. Why am I so defensive? Seriously. It drives me crazy.

I got an email today from a friend of mine who is serving in Africa. Her email came at a perfect time for my heart.

It is so easy for us to see the negative things. The things that are not going exactly the way that we hoped or planned. It is so easy for us to focus on the things that are going “wrong by our definition of how things should go. I choose to remember that God does not work on my terms or on my timetable. I choose to believe that God is not finished. And I trust in the process that He is taking us through.

Let me be a girl who trusts You in the process of helping me become the woman You'd have me be...

The Jam and The Job

So I'm rocking out to The Fray on my ipod. As someone who is clearly the epitome of cool, I recommend said band to you. They're good. And I know nothing about music. So if I can tell they're good, that means something. I'm also updating the ol' resume. My sister is going to job hunt for me in her neck of the woods while I look here. While I'm a big nerd, I'm not updating it for giggles. Things aren't looking good here for non-profits if they were supplemented by the government of Louisiana. Especially since Katrina. So I'm trying to be wise and have something in line instead of relying on the unemployment line.

My mom asked me if I would be heading to Florida if a job came up. I broke it to her as gently as I could and said, yes ma'am, I'd go there. Then Fatty called and asked are you sure you want me to look for a job for you here? She's just recently seen the life I live here in Baton Rouge and knows how close I hold each of you to my heart. But yes, I would go. But I'd rather stay. Baton Rouge is by far my first choice. And the more I think of finding a new job, the more it appeals to me. Especially since as each day goes by, it's looking like my job will end in June...

I used to say I'm here in Baton Rouge for the Ring, but what if that's all that's here for me? It's easy to say that when I'm comfortably employed. What happens when I'm not comfortably employed? Hmm. It makes this girl wonder. God's going to continue working in my life, I'm just not going to fight Him tooth and nail if He decides to lead me east. He's got my best interests at heart. And I trust Him with this ol' heart o' mine.

"Easy" Mac?

Sigh, I'm deplorable in the kitchen. Today I didn't want my usual mesquite/smoked turkey breast sandwich with my usual gatorade/lemonade. So I thought I'd mix it up and have some easy mac. As in macaroni and cheese. Very adult of me, I know. So I'm determined to get it right this time. Every time I've tried before something goes wrong. It's watery or there's not enough water. Or the noodles aren't soft. It's always something.

But THIS time it was going to be different. THIS time I'd get it right. I'd do everything spot on and at the end have a very nice lunch of mac and cheese. So I get out a microwavable bowl, just like the directions say. I pour the noodles into a bowl, pour 2/3 of a cup of water into the bowl and pop it in the microwave. I'm kind of excited at being so domestic. I'm getting a napkin out and folding it like I like it, pulling out a spoon, starting the dishwasher, once again, excited about taking care of my home.

By this time the microwave is playing my song so I get the bowl out. Ouch, it's hot. So I gently set it on the counter, trying to think nice thoughts since I've just burnt off part of my fingertips. Ok, so the bowl is hot, no big deal, I can handle this. I rip open the powdered cheese packet. And the way I rip it ends up being wrong. So I try again at a different spot, no luck. It just needs some elbow grease, so I yank really hard on it and the package explodes and orange powdered cheese goes everywhere. Sigh. I will not cry. This is not a big deal. So I brush the hair out of my face with my forearm and realize that I've just wiped orange powder on my forehead. Grrr. I can do this. I CAN do this! So I get another packet, open it with scissors and pour it into the bowl of noodles. That by this time are one solid mass of noodles. So I'm trying to stir the cheese into the noodles. Well, they are having none of it, so I go over to my sink and turn on the faucet to add some water so everything will mix. Too much water later and I end up eating powdered cheese broth with cold, hard noodles. Hmm. Yuck.

Worst. Dream. Ever.

I had a dream last night. Not a "look at the pretty bunny" dream. It was a struggling to wake up because its bad dream. I'm not a dreamer. Joseph and I wouldn't have much to talk about. My dreams are warning signs that something not good is about to happen or could happen to someone I love. I think it's God telling me to suit up and fight. Which I've got no problem doing. I'll fight for you in a heartbeat. And I hope you know that. I'm not the most experienced, but that's why I rely on Him.

So what did my dream look like? Well, spiders. They don't really bother me in this life, but in my subconscious I'm apparently terrified of them. They were everywhere. Big black hairy ones. Ginormous skinny Daddy Longlegs that would crawl across my stomach. Little ones that I could feel on my skin even though they weren't very big. I kept flinging them off of me, and when I'd smack one off, two more would show up. Crawling in my hair, up my arms, tickling my toes. It was agony. I kept tossing and turning trying to wake up, realizing that waking up would somehow be freedom, but I couldn't do it.

The great thing about my dreams is that He always brings me out of them. I'll get to the point where I'm so terrified I'll remember what has happened and then He says enough is enough, draws the line, and wakes me up.

So whatever is going on in your life, I'll be fighting for you.

Gosh, You're Embarrassing

So I'm sitting here with a friend of mine. We've just finished discussing my most recent embarrassing moment. She says, Gosh Allison, you've got a lot of really embarrassing moments. And it's always in front of important people. And she's right. It's not like they are mild, teensy weensy embarrassing moments. The majority of them are in public forums. Like the time I fell head first into a trailer loading luggage, or when I poured coffee all over the table in Mexico, or tripping over a bench taking a picture of a group of people, or when I used a word that resulted in my church leadership forbidding me to do something. And all of this in the span of two weeks!

It Tastes Better Here!

Coca-Cola tastes better in Mexico. Really. I know this for a couple of reasons. One, this ain't my first rodeo traveling to Mexico. Two, when eating tacos with green sauce that burns the hair off my tongue, the tingling coke somehow makes me feel better. And three, I once worked at the coca-cola plant here in Baton Rouge as a quality control analyst so I know a good coke when I taste one.

Half The Choir

So here is part of the "choir." We were at one of the services that Hank was going to be preaching at and he suddenly turns around and says to all of us, now we're going to go up and sing. Uh, ok. So we walk up, only one person knowing what song was to be sung. Jordan, the guy in the blue. He thought he was singing by himself so he was just as surprised as we were that we were going to be up there with him. He starts playing and then tells us what we are going to sing.

We sang "How Great is Our God." And it wasn't half bad to tell you the truth. I think God might have had mercy on a lot of us and just let us blend in with the people who could really sing.

Wash Your Feet?

So I'm not touchy feely. Well, I'm not touchy feely with boys. I'll hug the mess out of a girl. Not so much a guy. I'm more comfortable giving you a high five and a genuine smile than a hug. It's just the way I am. It doesn't mean I love you any less.

Well, the first day we were out picking up trash in Mexico, we all piled back into the van. Needless to say we are all hot, sweaty, and definitely don't smell like daisies. Our team leader says to us when we get back home to immediately go to an upper room and sit. Don't jump in the shower, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars.

I'm immediately irritated about it. I smell like trash, I'm covered in dirt, and I just want to be clean. Nope, not an option. So we go upstairs. I'm acting like a child and pouting. I'm not saying much but my body language clearly says I'm fussy.

He comes in with his Bible and tells the story about Jesus being a servant and washing the disciples' feet. Then he says we are going to follow His example and wash each others feet while praying out loud for the person we were washing. This is the point where I'm wondering how I can politely back out. There are only four guys on our team and I was going to be washing one of them. And I'm going to be the last one washing and praying out loud. Praying out loud is something I'm not comfortable with either. I think its because I expect to be judged on how holy I am by the words I pray. Since I was going to be the last one washing, it gave me plenty of time to talk with God about how I was so uncomfortable doing this and He was going to have to help me through it. Sure enough, He did. It was interesting how much my heart changed from the start of this experience to the end of it.

Looking back on it, I wasn't there to wash someone's feet. I did, but I knew I was there for the last prayer that was prayed. I don't remember everything that was said during the prayer, but I do remember the part where he asks God to let us not go back home to Baton Rouge to the same crap we left. I definitely needed to hear that. So I'm asking God to please tell me He loves me. I know He does by His actions, just sometimes I need to hear Him say it. After we are done, one of the girls comes up to me and says, "I've got a word from God for you. He wants me to tell you He loves you."

Sigh, that Man. He sure does know how to take care of me. Even when I'm being fussy.

What's Wrong With Innocent?

naivete

n : lack of sophistication or worldliness

So yesterday I stuck my foot in my mouth. Unwittingly, but I think that's why the phrase is coined that way. Never once have I intentionally stuck my foot in my mouth.

Boy o boy, I sure did yesterday. I'm not up on slang words. Sure I've got my goofy off the wall comments. (That burnt the hair off my tongue, let's blow this popsicle stand, etc.) Harmless, quirky, a little dumb, but fit my personality. But yesterday I made a t-shirt design that had a slang word in it that apparently has some deeper meaning for guys than it does for girls. The girls loved the idea of the shirt, and the guys just laughed. I thought the guys were laughing at the same thing the girls were laughing at. O no, nope. Nada. The guys were laughing at something completely different.

One guy had enough mercy to tell me what the guys were laughing at. He emailed me about it and just reading it I could tell he was embarrassed writing it. Heck, I was embarrassed reading it. So after a whole lot of confusion and embarrassment on everybody's part, I apologized profusely to anyone I could whom I'd shown or told about the t-shirt design.

After all this I was still upset. I felt like I should have known better. And then my guy friends were laughing at me and my naivete. I like a joke just like everyone else, Lord knows, I'm a big dork and I'm certainly not perfect so I get plenty of opportunity to laugh at myself. But I guess it just reminded me of how much I don't know about carnal nature and that somehow I should just know about this stuff.

So what does a girl do when she doesn't understand something? She calls her father. And that's exactly what I did. I told him the whole story start to finish. And he said he was proud of me for not knowing what the word could mean. And its a good thing that my mind doesn't immediately jump to the worst connotation of a word. He said there's nothing wrong with being innocent.

Later that night I was talking to my other Father. I thanked Him for me not knowing everything there is to know about certain things. Sure, I felt like an idiot, but I'd rather have a pure heart and mind. You'd think I'd want to know it all, but alas, 'tis not the case.

The Boy Who Would Be King

Meet Eli. Pronounced Elle-eee. Doesn't he just look like he'd be a handful? Well, you're right. He is. And he might be precious too. Eli is the boy that if we were all standing in a circle singing songs, he would be in the middle dancing. Or if we were all on the floor coloring, he was the one who was chattering away talking about cartoons or his little sister Sofie. He wasn't necessarily talking to anyone. I think he was talking just to hear the sound of his own voice. But he was charming...

Believe it or not, I'm not that good with kids or animals. I'm the one they decide they want to nap on or cuddle with. Not so much the hip cool girl who can just win a crowd of kids over. However, God knew that and put me in a team that had a lot of people who were gifted in the childcare area. Some of them could just walk into the room and kids would just come running. Kind of like a good pied piper if you will. It was awesome.

Meet Jess. She is one of those who is definitely able to walk into a room and herd cats, I mean, kids. It's amazing and so fun to watch. She speaks some Spanish and certainly did in Mexico. She was also the face painting queen. I mean really, look at the brilliant self-portrait she did of herself. And on a paper plate no less!

Boys are Trouble

Let's look at this picture. There are many noticeable things about it. One, some of us are wearing crowns. I must admit, they do favor us pretty well. But let's count the girls. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. This will play into my tale presently.

This was the night when Jess called for volunteers for take care of the kids during Hank's sermon. Hank is one of us from the Ring, and was preaching in Spanish that night. I wanted to hear him just as much as anyone else, but no one was raising their hand to volunteer to take care of the kids, because that meant missing the sermon. So I said, why not, and threw my hat in to take care of the wee ones. Not knowing that mere minutes later, I'd be asking God to please if He deigns that I become a mother, that all I have are girls.

There were four boys. Ranging from around 5 to 9. They don't speak a lot of English, but they definitely speak a lot of Spanish. And they don't listen to anything I or any of the other girls say. It doesn't really matter what language we were speaking, Spanish or English, they were not going to do anything we told them to do.

A little over halfway into the service, one of them shoots out the door. Well, I'm telling one of them to get off the table while trying to keep them from hitting each other. I can't tell if they mean it or are just playing. Charlie, one of the guys from Peniel, comes to get a drink of water, which is right outside the room where we were keeping the boys. He understands and speaks English so I ask him if he's good at wranglin' boys because it's about as hard as herding cats. He says something to them in Spanish and they immediately stop whatever trouble they are making and sit down. It wasn't what he said, it was how he said it. The tone said it all. I said a little prayer of thankfulness and wished he could stay the rest of the service, but he's part of the worship band, so he had to go back.

There were seven of us and we couldn't handle four little boys. Yeah, seven. God, if You're thinking I'm up for motherhood, may they only be girls. Boys are trouble.

I Don't Eat The Tails

On the way back home to Baton Rouge, we had a speed lunch. As in get your butt outta the van, tinkle if you need to, grab whatever you want for lunch TO-GO, and get back in the van so we can keep driving. It's a good plan in theory, but when you have around sixty people, it's going to take a bit of time no matter how fast you are.

Well, I got a Big Mac at Mickey D's. Which some of you found funny. I've come to the conclusion that I'm a little skinny for my own liking. Every time I took a picture in Mexico, I'd look at it and think, gosh somebody give that girl a sandwich. So I was stuffing my face on a Big Mac, talking to people and sharing my fries. I grab a few fries, eat them, and then Courtney busts out laughing. I'm thinking, great, I've got secret sauce all over my face. That's hot, right? So I'm like, uh, what? She says, "Allison, that's how you eat your fries?!"

Let me describe my french fry eating technique. I eat all of it. Well, almost all of it. I don't eat the end of it. Chomp, chomp, chomp, and toss the end. It's real easy to do. So Courtney says, hey, watch Allison eat a fry. Yeah, I love performing like a trained monkey. So I oblige and eat the fry, and toss the end. Taylor says, Yeah, I know someone who does that. She doesn't eat the "tails." I reply with a see, it's not unusual. Then he finishes his remark with a yeah, my niece, she's FOUR.

"Sleepeating"

I sleep on my back. Which is not really that unusual that I know of. I've done it all my life, and don't plan on switching techniques anytime soon. This is not relative to the story until a little later...

In our room in Mexico we had 10 girls. Plus their air mattresses, sleeping bags, suitcases, backpacks, random clothing lying around, etc. It was a plethora of girliness when you walked into our room. Which I found funny every time I walked in. Knowing full well some of that girly stuff belonged to yours truly.

There is a wonderful thing in Mexico called siesta. It's usually right after lunch. And it's just an hour or two of relaxation. For me, it means catnapping. Well, a few other girls had the same idea one day. So there are about six of us just knocked out. I'm laying there, eyes closed and wake up discovering that I'm hungry. For those of you who hang out with me a lot, you know I'm up for food pretty much anytime. I'll never eat a lot, but I'll eat every two to three hours. Well, I wake up from my catnap and decide it's time to forage. I'd expected this attack of the munchies so I'd grabbed a package of strawberry poptarts before I hit the hay. (Notice I said strawberry and NOT cherry. Cherry is the worst flavor. Ever.) Moving on.

So I wake up, still lying on my back, reach to my left with my eyes still closed, open the package, and start nibbling on a poptart. All of a sudden, Courtney comes and plops on the air mattress and starts talking to me. I put on my glasses and kind of wonder why she just all of a sudden feels the need to come over, but I don't say anything about it. Turns out, she thought I was eating in my sleep. "Sleepeating" if you will. I look at her and say, huh? She says, "Well, you had your eyes closed. And then you started eating a poptart, so I thought you were asleep. So I came over to your bed to see if you were conscious." I start laughing and tell her that I'm blind without my glasses, so I just keep my eyes closed.

Sleepeating. Now that's funny.

Spiritual Gifts Test

So on the way to Mexico, I was one third of a group of girls who are completely ridiculous, but we had so much fun. We kept our driver awake, mostly cuz I think he was laughing more at us than with us. But we had such a good time, it didn't matter. Speaking of time, our 16 hour drive turned into a 24 hour drive thanks to a few flat tires and time delays.

Since we had so much time, the three of us made up a spiritual gifts test. Not a real one, more of a here's something you could do while driving to Mexico in the wee hours of the morning. Please don't take it seriously, we don't. In fact, there was a whole lot of ridiculous giggling making this thing up. Feel free to take it, or just laugh at the randomness...

1) When a friend comes to you for advice, do you...
a) Listen intently. b) Pick your nose c) Encourage them. d) Laugh hysterically.

2) When staying up all night, what is your favorite?
a) Name that tune-80s edition. b) Most embarrassing moments. c) Where in the world would you go? d) The various ways not to pee on yourself.

3) If you were an animal, you would be...
a) Baby Seal. b) Rabbit. c) Turtle. d) Bear.

4) If God were a color, He would be?
a) Fuschia. b) Yellow. c) Brown as a punkapoo. d) I'm colorblind.

5) Are you?
a) Introverted. b) Extroverted.

6) How often do you read your Bible/Pray?
a) 2-3 times a week. b) 4-6 times a week. c) 1-2 times a week. d) When I feel led.

7) If asked to preach at your church, would you...
a) Pee yourself. b) Speak in Spanish so no one would know if you didn't "bring it." c) Do the ever popular "slow lope" up to the podium. d) Do the hip-hop ABCs on stage.

8) How many tacos do you eat at the taco hut?
a) 6 while drinking a fanta with left over lipgloss on it. b) 4 with the red sauce. c) 3 with the green sauce. d) None. Who eats tacos at midnight?

9) Your greatest fear is...
a) Easter Bunny. b) Scorpions. c) Clowns. d) Drinking the water.

10) If you were driving a van, who would you pick to keep you awake?
a) The ice cream man. b) The tres amigas. c) Someone who questions you constantly. d) The Raptor.

Bonus: 11) What does "haciendo de templo" mean? (It's not spelled right, but I don't speak Spanish.)

a) The parsonage. b) Nothing. It's a made up word. c) State of being. d) Are we there yet?

What To Do When Driving to Mexico

10) Play 20 questions-Three hundred and twenty-three times.
9) Write in a journal-In a 15 passenger van with a loaded down trailer and construction on I-10.

8) Say you're going to stay awake the whole trip-And you're the first one snoring.

7)Wonder how much junk you really thought you needed in your carry on bag-And never used.
6) Discover that I-10 disappears in the middle of downtown Houston.
5) Realize when you say you can hold it till the next stop, it was just wishful thinking on your part.
4) Play name that tune on your ipod-80s edition.
3) Find out if you look like a rabbit, turtle, baby seal, or bear.
2) Keep your driver AWAKE and AMUSED-If they are happy, you are happy.
1) Make wisecracks about Texas-While a Texan sits next to you. (And live to tell the tale...)

Once Upon A Time in Mexico

This week was, well, not at all what I expected. This was my fourth time to head down there. I didn't go to any new places, except for a taco stand a few nights. I didn't go to work for a new church, I served alongside a pastor named Chewy whom I'd worked with last year. Last year I picked up trash, this year I picked up trash on the same playground. Last year I played with kids along with my broken Spanish. Ditto on that this year. But here's the thing, I thought God and I were close when I came, but He just romanced the everlivin' tar outta me this week and it was AWESOME.

He and I are close. I mean, we talk every day. I think about Him, I talk to and with Him. He brings sunshine into my life. And He walks beside me even when I decide to take a different route than what He has in mind for me. Well, this week, while clearly hard to describe, had a drastic effect on me. You might not be able to see it, but it's there. God showed me a lot of grace. Through the strained friendships in my life, or the brand new ones, evidence of His grace was just everywhere I looked this week. It was wonderful. By Him showing me grace, He was teaching me how to be gracious to those around me as well. It was a lesson my heart needed to learn and while parts of it were not easy, I wouldn't trade one thing about anything that happened.

I'll be telling stories for the next few posts about Mexico. Mostly because I like to chatter in the written word. I'm not so much a big talker unless its one-on-one, but I've got no problem chattering away on this thing. Especially about this week, cuz boy o boy, it was good times. In the meantime, I'm exhausted and going to sleep for about twelve hours. That's my goal anyway...

Rough Beginning

So tonight we loaded the trailers for Mexico. I've not really thought about the trip much. I broke my heart the other day, so I'm mildly preoccupied with that. But I don't cry anymore and I've never slept better.

I always say things like how I metaphorically fall, get up, brush myself off, and realize that God has me the whole time. Well, tonight I actually did fall, get up, and brush myself off. I skinned my knee. Which is pretty funny if you think about it. We were all loading the luggage and when I handed the bag off, one of my fingers went with the bag. Well, we'd already gotten into a rhythm of handing the bags off, so when the bag went, so did my hand, and then the rest of me. I very ungracefully fell forward into the back of the trailer. But I didn't fall flat on my face. I had enough of a reaction time to place a hand and a knee as I hit the floor. So now I've got a skinned knee and a few bruises and we've not even left Baton Rouge.

Sheesh, I hurt my heart yesterday, my finger today. It's going to be an interesting trip. But I really wouldn't trade any of it. God's been fantastic lately with helping me keep my sense of humor in all of this. Hopefully, He'll keep that up. And brush off the fact that I've got a vice grip on His hand.

Pain is Weakness Leaving the Body

So I don't exercise. It's true. I'm not in shape physically. Yes, I'm skinny, and I'm starting to eat right. But only because I throw myself on the ground and slam my head against the floor if I don't. However, spiritually, I exercise. I read my bible, I pray, I go to church, I tithe, I smile. Everything I was taught as a little girl to show that I love Jesus, I do. But as I get older, I realize the importance of needing to be near Him and in an active relationship with Him. I crave Him. I miss the time I sometimes don't take to talk to Him. When He's not a priority to me. There are times when I know I've done wrong and need to humble myself before Him and others. But the fantastic thing is that everything I do, Christ is right there with me. It makes me take a very different view on my life. When I sin, fail, succeed, grow, He's still right there with me. And I really wouldn't change that at all. It is the times that I don't know if I need to be "doing" something that unnerve me.

A friend of mine sent me an article today called Discovering God's Will by Dr. Sinclair Ferguson. He sent it to me after reading my last few posts. And believe me, it's good stuff. In a nutshell it is a few questions to help me dispel the confusion swirling around me at the moment. Dr. Ferguson uses Paul's letters to the church at Corinth as a kind of how-to guide to finding God's will. He answers the questions by using the various teachings of Paul.

1) Is It Lawful?
2) Is It Beneficial To Me?
3) Is It Enslaving?
4) Is It Consistent With Christ's Lordship?
5) Is It Helpful To Others?
6) Is It Consistent With Biblical Example?

I need to sit down and do this with what is going on in my heart. It'll take courage and a whole lot of vulnerability on my part. But I know that He's not going to crush my heart when I talk to Him about all of this and ask Him questions. There have been plenty of times when I've fallen. Sure, I piss and moan about it, then I get up, brush myself off, and realize He had my hand the whole time. I leave for a mission trip to Mexico on Friday. Which means a very long van ride is in my near future. But a little solitude and then a whole lot of service does my body (and heart) good.

(On a sidenote, I said "piss and moan" the other day at community group and everyone laughed at me. It means whining and complaining. And its clearly not something y'all say around these parts. O well, we all got a good laugh and I got to blush to the tips of my toes. I think blushing is one of my spiritual gifts.)

This Weekend

From left to right. Houmas House itself. My wonderful LSU volunteers! Fatty and Courtney, looking fabulous as ever. Meg and Cris, stunning as usual. Mendy and I, grinning for the camera, and a group of some of the buddy pairs that came to the brunch.

(All of these pics were taken by the talented Jacob Rush. Mendy and I, and the group photo in the pavilion, my sister Leanne took, aka Fatty.)

What Does Grace Look Like?

I've survived a really important weekend. Personally and professionally. My fundraiser was this past weekend. It was fine. Went without a hitch. Well, there were hitches, but no one could tell. An example would be that one of the participants didn't show up so all we had were alcoholic beverages. Probably not the best idea considering most of them you couldn't tell had alcohol in them. But everything was fine, we just put out some pitchers of water and things continued on their jolly way.

As for my responsibility, the silent auction, I had a little over four grand's worth of stuff. It definitely did not bring in that, but that's alright. I did the best job I could with the silent auction and if people don't bid, they don't bid. I can lead a horse to water but I can't make him drink.

In other exciting news, my sister came into town. I wanted her to come to the ring, and to meet all of the people who I consider my family here in Baton Rouge. She gets this shocked look on her face when I call you my family, but that's what you are. Yep, I said it.

She met pretty much everyone. There were a few of you whom I love that I couldn't get you away to meet her, but that's the way the cookie crumbles. Something always comes up. As for the ring itself, it was great. Except for the part where I almost fell asleep during the sermon. Not because of the message, it was fine. I was just so exhausted from the fundraiser that I could barely sit up. But we made it, so no harm done. Falling asleep in church is fine if you are a wee girl or a old guy. I'm neither.

So I've not talked about the title of this blog yet. It's just an idea that's been running around in my head. Especially this weekend. I had great success and great heartbreak. The success and accolades are easy to be gracious with. It's the heartbreak that has me scratching my head. How many times do I let people in and the only consistent aspect is that I get hurt? What does grace look like here? Last night part of the sermon was talking about God "illuminating" the sin in our lives. Am I so far gone that what I love has become a sin issue? How the heck did that happen? And where do I go from here?

I know no one can give me the bandaid I'm looking for. God and I will have to talk through this, and while I love you, most of it will not be mentioned in this blog. I have no problem letting you completely in and I think that's part of the problem. Ask me anything and I'll tell you, even if it makes me vulnerable.

When it comes down to it, my heart needs some protection and right now the only way I know how to do that is building walls. Which I'm completely capable of doing. It'll hurt, but not any worse than what I'm going through at the moment. Like I said, God and I need to talk about this.