Two Lefts and A Few Rights

I had dinner with Lanie tonight. We have fun together. Actually, I don't think God has given me anyone that I consider it a chore to hang out with. Anyways, Lanie is moving across the pond because that's where God is telling her to go. Yay, obedience! So we go to that chicken place where I was hired. We are just sitting there talking about life in general. She knew my roomie so she was asking how she was and I told her she was engaged now. We smiled at that, and I told her the story of how he proposed and we continued smiling.

She was asking about the new fiance, Joe. Well, I said, he's a good man. Really. Some of my favorite times would be when I would walk in the door and they were in the kitchen. She'd be making her lunch for the next day, he'd be munching on something at the table, I'd sit down and we'd all chat for a bit. It was nice. I didn't have to run out of the room just because they were a pair. They have that kind of relationship. Yes, they are an item, but they are friends too. I just think that is so nice! Now they'll be a husband and wife with that kind of a relationship.

Lanie doesn't know Joe, so I'm trying to describe him. And the only way I can do that is to tell Lanie of my experiences with him. That whole hearing the deadbolt lock that makes me feel safe thing. Or just the fact that when you're talking to him, you can tell he's actually listening, not thinking about the next thing that is going to come out of his mouth. Or just waiting for you to stop talking so you'll leave him alone. He'll actually stop and ask me how I am if I'm in the living room or whatnot! As I was telling Lanie this we both just got this dreamy smile on our faces. I don't know, there's just something about a good man who loves Jesus and treats people nice. Then I told her that he designed the ring for Nicole himself, went to H-town to pick it up, wanted to keep everything pertaining to the proposal as a surprise for her, etc. More sighs and smiles from the both of us.

As we are eating our chicken and talking/giggling, my left hand is tingling. After dinner we went to Target to bum around there for a bit, and I'm whining about how my hand is hurting. Well, it turns out that I'm apparently allergic to mosquito bites. I'd been watering the flowers in our courtyard before meeting Lanie for dinner and two little bloodsuckers wanted to see what I tasted like and bit me on my left hand. Said bites are now both about the size of quarters and itch like the dickens. I'm refusing to scratch them because I think my hand might fall off if I do...

Stand by Your Man

My quiet time is in my car in the parking lot of my office. I know its kind of weird, but whatever. It gets my heart to a place that is ready and willing to face whatever opportunities I'm going to be given to glorify Him. Today I was reading Acts 5:1-10. Its about a guy and gal named Ananias (guy) and Sapphira (guy's gal)...

1Now a man named Ananias, together with his wife Sapphira, also sold a piece of property. 2With his wife's full knowledge he kept back part of the money for himself, but brought the rest and put it at the apostles' feet.3Then Peter said, "Ananias, how is it that Satan has so filled your heart that you have lied to the Holy Spirit and have kept for yourself some of the money you received for the land? 4Didn't it belong to you before it was sold? And after it was sold, wasn't the money at your disposal? What made you think of doing such a thing? You have not lied to men but to God." 5When Ananias heard this, he fell down and died. And great fear seized all who heard what had happened. 6Then the young men came forward, wrapped up his body, and carried him out and buried him.7About three hours later his wife came in, not knowing what had happened. 8Peter asked her, "Tell me, is this the price you and Ananias got for the land?" "Yes," she said, "that is the price."9Peter said to her, "How could you agree to test the Spirit of the Lord? Look! The feet of the men who buried your husband are at the door, and they will carry you out also."10At that moment she fell down at his feet and died. Then the young men came in and, finding her dead, carried her out and buried her beside her husband. 11Great fear seized the whole church and all who heard about these events.

So basically this guy ripped off the church. His wife supported him in this. Which is all sorts of shady, but I don't think that's why God struck them both down dead. In my opinion, it wasn't the theft. It was the lying. First he tells a little white lie, and then his ever supportive (and greedy) wife stands by his decision. She had the opportunity at the end of the story to come clean and she didn't.

I think that honesty is something that should be practiced more often. It takes courage a lot of the time, but there's something to be said for a courageous heart that fears the Lord...

Chicken, Sort of...

Here's the thing. I've gotten a bee in my bonnet about debt. So to swat out said bee, I've decided to get another job. Now, I'm not to the point where stuff is being turned off, or I'm having to hock anything on the street. I just wanna get rid of it. Right now I don't have three mouths to feed, diapers or school uniforms to buy. It boils down to two facts. One, I don't want to bring it into a marriage. Most importantly, I want to glorify Him in all aspects of my life and that includes my finances.

So I got this job at a chicken place. And then told my father about it. He wasn't too happy. My dad's not a big talker. But he can say a lot with his tone. Needless to say his tone wasn't too happy with his eldest daughter. Not over my financial prowess or lack thereof, it was the fact that I wasn't telling him about it. (He's protective of me, will always be. Even when I was overseas, six hours ahead of him, I always knew I could call and he could take care of whatever was going on. Yay, my dad is fabulous.)

In the meantime, I've had a few great things happen in the midst of trying to get my finances in order. I was able to talk with my boss about the way God applies pressure in life. His pressure is gently guiding. Kind of like a hand on the small of my back. Enough pressure to let me know He's there and to steer me where He is leading me.

Two, my friends have been wonderfully supportive. In fact, they've done their best to get me babysitting jobs. Which is great, but in a exquisite torture kind of way. The truth is that I want to be a mom one day. I want to be a wife. I know that supposedly freaks guys out, but it shouldn't surprise anyone that I long to care for and be cared for one day. Its normal to want to be loved. I want to look into my children's eyes and see me and their father in them. So I've been antsy about taking any opportunity to watch over children. Whether volunteer or a paid position. However, it seems that is exactly where He is leading me...The thing is that I truly love caring for the wee ones...

Pastors Who Yell

I was getting ready for dinner tonight and the tv was on. It was the start of Footloose. I had to stop what I was doing immediately to do the dance while the song was on, then got back to getting dressed.

I don't know if you've seen it, but it starts out with a pastor who is telling his congregation that God tests us daily, then he gets so worked up, he starts yelling his words instead of talking. For some reason that stuck in my head. Both the yelling and the idea that God tests us daily.

First and foremost, I don't think God tests us daily. I think that each day I'm given plenty of opportunities to glorify God in my actions. With my mouth in what I say, my hands in what they do, my feet and where they take me. Sometimes I glorify Him, and sometimes, a lot of the time, I fall short. But I get up, rub the dirt off my hands and knees, try to learn from my mistakes and once again get that familiar feeling of His grace enfolding me. Grace is hard to describe, but something in your soul recognizes it immediately when its given to you. And it can only be given. I can't take grace from you. You can't take grace from me. It's a choice. And the feeling of receiving grace never looses its sparkle or its value.

I don't like hate. I don't use the word. I think its the antithesis of who He's called me to be. However, I dislike greatly, with a passion that's almost unholy, when pastors yell at me. I grew up in a church where that was common. Especially during revivals. I'm not sure there was anything restorative or reviving when a man who has chosen to represent God as his vocation yells at the very body he's called to minister to. However, I was a young girl in that environment so looking through a child's' eyes is very different than what I see now.

I did learn from that, even though it wasn't the most positive experience. I learned what kind of church body I want to be in, what kind of pastoral care I prefer, and that people can still get their point across with grace and kindness. No yelling required.

How the Ring got me a Job...

Last night I went to greet Courtney, who's been in Mexico for a week. I went for a few reasons. One, I knew she'd be tired. Two, I missed her face ferociously, and three, I knew she'd be hungry AND tired. It was raining so I threw in my eyeballs and put on a pink LSU hat. What I'm wearing will really matter in a minute, keep reading...

So I met the van, grabbed her stuff, loaded her up and went to a chicken place up the road. We walk in and Courtney orders, then I order. This guy comes up and asks if we're here to fill out an application. Being the dork I am, I pop off, with a "not unless you're hiring part-time help. And I don't work on Sundays because of church." He says, well me neither and gives me a pen.

We go sit down at the table, Courtney's eating and I'm filling out an application. He comes to our table and says that they are looking for unique people. I asked him what it was about us that made him come up and ask about jobs. He said, the pink hat. I saw it through the window and y'all were smiling and laughing with each other and that's the kind of people we want.

Another guy comes up to our table. His name is Damon and he's the manager I'll be working under. He reads on my application that I'm from Texas. He asks what brought me here to BR, I told him at first it was the free rent and free food with the folks after college graduation, and then God kept me here because I fell in love with my church. He asked what church I go to. So I start bubbling about the ring, and he says that one time a big group of guys came from the ring. He says he knows T and Jake, who are two of the Elders at the Ring. So I tell them the news that we're a church now, have been since February. Meanwhile, Nathan walked in so we flagged him down and introduced him to the management.

As my "interview" goes on, Damon is talking to the other manager and he's describing the ring. He says its church, but rock style. Then he asks me if that's a good way to describe it. I smilingly agreed. He talked about the band and how good they were.

And now I start Monday at 6pm... By the way, that's their birthday. Every 10th person gets their meal free all day long...And they'll have cake. Mmm cake.

On the way to the car, Courtney says, I didn't tell them you're bad in the kitchen, I figure they'll find out on their own. And that's true, so its a good thing I'm counter help and not kitchen help...

Cookies and INC...

My BIL is a smart cookie. My sister sent a "my husband is brilliant email" today. His company is listed as one of INC's Top 500 privately own businesses. He's number 378. We're so proud! So being the cheerleader that I am, I totally sent him the most annoying e-card I could find to congratulate him...

Speaking of cookies, I've been looking for a part-time job. It's not something I'm particularly fond of doing, but I'm a girl in a big city, trying to make it on my own. I know I can work nights and weekends, I did it in college. Worked at a grocery store at night, took classes during the day, and worked chem lab in the in-between hours. Work just doesn't intimidate me. Besides, working at a grocery store at night you meet a lot of interesting people. I got proposed to a lot, especially with the guys buying their alcoholic beverages. And an older couple, who were regulars at the store, always thought I looked like Nicole Kidman and never failed to mention it when I checked them out. They were sweet, maybe a little senile, but sweet.

So I've applied to a cookie cafe. I know, me and baking, right? I haven't gotten the job, but I'm hoping I do. Two birds with one stone. A little extra income and much needed practice at baking... So help a girl out and pray something come's my way, will ya? And don't tell them I'm a complete klutz in the kitchen...

Take a Load Off...

I got my hair cut this weekend. Here's what happened. I sit down in the chair and the girl, with a thick Russian accent says, Dahling, you must grow your hair out longer. I respond with a, well you see, I'm a small girl and I just don't need a huge mane of hair. She disagreed and said I should keep growing it longer because of the curls. She then said, I'm going to cut it on the inside so it will take the weight off and keep the length. Hmm. Ok. Totally not trusting this woman to really come through.

Last night I washed it in the shower. Holy Moly! She totally chopped it off! I can feel the difference in it. Its like night and day. The length is still there, but it doesn't give me a headache to pull it back into a ponytail anymore. Yay! I couldn't tell the difference until I washed what she'd done out of it.

I think life is sometimes like that. God uses events and whatnot to take the weight out of my life. He's busy cutting away the weight while I'm sitting there in the chair totally not trusting Him to really follow through. When I take a moment to stop and see what He's done, I'm amazed at the job He's doing.

Stop with the Communicating...

I'm not sure what happened with that last post. I'd read it from another post and thought I'd saved it as a draft, but when I just checked this, its posted. Yeah, that's what I get for not paying attention to which button I hit.

So the quote is this....

In any kind of relationship, genuine two-way communication is a necessity. Whether this communication be between husband and wife, parent and child, friend and friend or any person to any person, we must be able to grasp what the other person is really meaning by what they are saying. This same type communication is essential between our God and us. Without it, a real relationship is impossible and any benefit of claiming to know God is negligible and meaningless. ec

And the story I was going to attach to it is about communication, babies, flying home, and family. I'd gone to see my sister this weekend. We communicate in lots of different ways. For instance, I could tell she was missing her husband Louis by day two of my visit. She was loads of fun and we had a blast, but some of her usual spark was faded a bit because she missed him. I couldn't have been more pleased. I love that she's needed by him. When he called, he was just as smitten as she was in a, I'm a dude, but I love my wife, kind of way.

Or when we were at a restaurant, I came back from the loo and Fatty was still sitting there with the menus. She tells me the waiter hadn't come back yet. So I get the "h e double hockeysticks, he is not leaving MY sister parched," look on my face. A hapless waiter walks by and I politely, yet forcefully, ask for a waiter. And it worked.

One more story then I'll get to my point. On the way back home last night, which was entirely too long and overly dramatic, one of my flights had four babies on it. Loading up everyone is like, no, go to the back, we don't want to sit by the babies. Babies don't bother me. I'll totally rock the baby on my hip look one day, so I sit in the row behind them. And I might've been making eyes at the little brown-eyed boy who kept looking at me over the seat. I think they like the curly mop on my head. Ok, up goes the plane, barely a peep, its when the plane was descending that they decided to speak up. Which is perfectly understandable. Their little ears pop and since the only way they know how to communicate is through letting those little lungs speak up. They don't understand what is going on so they try to tell the world around them that something is off and somebody, somewhere, needs to make it right as soon as possible.

I'm kind of like those wee ones in the plane last night. I overly communicate at times. I'm a talker. And yet tonight at my cg, I hardly said two words. It was weird. But in a good way. Our group took a breather for three weeks. It was rough going for me personally. I knew I needed to step back and I did. Hating it, but trusting that God was going to have His way. That was the only thing that kept the crazy in my head at bay. Pleading that He had a plan in all of this. Tonight I got to see the fruits of it. The group is strong, doing great. It'll be a good semester for them. It hurt, but in a good way.

I pouted over it on the way home. But God does this really great thing with me. When I'm feeling especially bratty and whiny, He'll step in and tell me to knock it off. Which is what He did tonight. I'm sitting there whining about not being needed and He's telling me I'm missing the point of what He's shown me tonight. He's got His hand all over the group and the church. They've got even more good things in their future...

In any kind of relationship, genuine two-way communication is a necessity. Whether this communication be between husband and wife, parent and child, friend and friend or any person to any person, we must be able to grasp what the other person is really meaning by what they are saying. This same type communication is essential between our God and us. Without it, a real relationship is impossible and any benefit of claiming to know God is negligible and meaningless. ec

Pink Welts and Pink Toes

My toes are drying because I painted them for this weekend. They are a very frilly ridiculously fun shade of pink. Didn't know there was a "very frilly ridiculously fun shade of pink" out there in the world, now did ya? The actual name of it is "A-Rose at Dawn...Broke by Noon." For real, I ain't kiddin!

So while my toes are drying, I figured I'd tell you about my day today. Most of it had to do with weight. I came into my office this morning, going around doing the daily ritual of good mornings to everyone, when my supervisor and coworker yelled at me to come back to their office. I go back and she says, "Allison! You look skinny today. Go eat a donut." To which I saucily, and honestly, reply, "If you had a donut, I would gladly eat it."

A few of the ladies in my office are on a diet. Actually, most of them are. They kid around with me that I'm "tiny." My mom calls it awfully skinny. I call it irritating. I try to camouflage bones protruding. For instance, I broke my collarbone at church camp years ago and you can see the break in the bone where it tried to grow back straight and didn't. Its repulsive, so I cover it up with clothes, sweaters, little distractions that keep me discreetly but charmingly clothed...

Anyway, back to my story. Today at lunch, one of the girls asked me how I stay so skinny and if there are wee girls in my family history. My aunt is small, but that's about it. And I told her that I eat every few hours. It's true! I'm a big nibbler. My dad says I eat like a bird. Supposedly it keeps your metabolism running to break down the food you've just eaten. I have no clue. All I know is that I've done this for years. Eat a little here, a little there. I can't sit down and eat a ginormous meal, as much as I'd like to.

This evening, I'm running around like a chicken with my head cut off, getting everything ready to go see Fatty. She's super excited about this weekend. Just like her big sis. And I get a mosquito bite on my wrist. The freagin' thing is huge! So I'm whining about this ginormous bug bite welt to a few friends of mine until they pop off that its not a big bite, if my wrist wasn't tiny it wouldn't look that bad. Agh!

Speaking of, I think I'm going to go nibble on something before I slip into bed and hit the hay...

Spiritual Yellow Journalism

"i'm hoping not to croak tomorrow on my flight to orlando. i'm super anxious about the whole thing. if i didn't start at 9 a.m. i would totally drive."

That email, from my sister, was waiting in my work email inbox Monday. The funny thing is the night before I'd written a prayer request about going to see my her Thursday and would like to get there alive.

With all the craziness in the world, I've been thinking about dying. I'm ok with thinking about my death. Let me explain before you start scheduling an intervention. As in it crosses my mind and keeps right on going.

I think every minute on this planet is given to me by God. He lets me choose how I'll spend those seconds, minutes, hours, days, with an eventual ending to all of it. (Then the real living starts!) Looking back on my life thus far, I'm hoping I've lived a life of love. Although I certainly have my shortcomings!

Don't get me wrong, I like, nay love, feeling safe. Here's an example. My roomie has a bf. He's a good man. And when he leaves he turns on the alarm and locks the deadbolt. Every once in a while I'll be awake to hear the lock slide into place. I think its the sweetest thing! I see it as his way of doing as much as he can to make sure she's safe and secure for the night. And I'm only getting the aftereffects of it, but even still, its grand!

But life isn't always safe. So today I was wondering if I moved on, would people know that I loved them? As I live this life He's given me have I told you that...

I couldn't have picked better parents to raise me to know and love Him?
You make me laugh with and at you?
You make my heart beat faster and some of my most cherished memories have you in them?
Your fashion sense is ahead of its time?
I'm thrilled God picked me as your sister?
Even if we don't talk for weeks and reschedule coffee constantly, we're still friends?
You're my favorite redhead?
The wise counsel you give me ranks right up there with my Dad's?
You were my first friend in Baton Rouge?
You listening to me whine and moan about life means so much?
You're the smartest guy I know at work?
You make me so proud for defending my freedom?
Letting me help you pick your reception pics was delightful?
Your heart for missions and serving others encourages less selfishness in me?
I love talking about "bangers and mash" and "uni" with you?

So Thursday after work, I'm going to drive to New Orleans and leave my car. I don't get back until Sunday night around 10pm. I don't like the idea of leaving my car with some strange airport garage in New Orleans, but I'm ridiculously excited about the trip. Louis is going to be on a business trip so it'll be just us girls. I'm so excited I could just die! Get it? Come on, lighten up, that's funny!

Hope Floats...

Tonight I did something I've not done in a while. Nothing. I sat on my couch and did nothing but watch tv. I thought it would be nice. Well, it wasn't.

Ok, I wear my heart on my sleeve. (Which could be the best or worst thing about me depending on where you sit.) After a few hours, yeah, I'm cool enough to admit I watched tv for hours, I turned it off. Why? Because the world is full of hurt. Just flipping channels, while there were a few laughs, most of it was hurt. Gosh, this world is brimming with it. So I'm talking to God about it and wondering how much pain and heartache we are going to bring into the world.

The thought of that makes me sad, so I do a very girly thing. I go read poetry. I know, I know. But sometimes you just gotta read something beautiful to fan the flicker of hope that stirs in your soul. So that's what I've been doing. Of course, the Bible has some GREAT, WONDROUS poems in it. But tonight I decided to check out some more current thoughts from a few mere mortals.

I could definitely get carried away, but I'll just give a you a taste. They made me sigh in contentment...

Believe me, if all those endearing young charms,
Which I gaze on so fondly today,
Were to change by tomorrow, and fleet in my arms,
Like fairy-gifts fading away,
Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art,
Let thy loveliness fade as it will,
And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart
Would entwine itself verdantly still.

It is not while beauty and youth are thine own,
And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear
That the fervor and faith of a soul can be known,
To which time will but make thee more dear;
No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets,
But as truly loves on to the close,
As the sunflower turns on her god, when he sets,
The same look which she turned when he rose.
(Thomas Moore, Believe Me, If All Those Enduring Charms)

Pied Beauty
Glory be to God for dappled things—
For skies of couple-color as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;
And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.
All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise Him.
(Gerard Manley Hopkins)

The Lake Isle of Innisfree
William Butler Yeats

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.

The Ballad of Ricky B.

I went to the last night of a revival service hosted by my momma church tonight. The guest speaker was Dr. Rick Byrageon. My tongue totally butchers his last name, but man that man can preach! Goodness gracious! I totally needed to hear him tonight.

The service started out by singing some hymns that had me grinning from ear to ear. We don't sing hymns at my church, which is perfectly fine, but I grew up on them. Every once in a while they are like a balm to my soul. And that continued into the sermon. God just blessed my socks off! Dr. B's sermon was on Jeremiah 29:10-14.

He mentioned a lot of things that my heart needed to hear. I needed to hear that God's not done with me. He's not shaking His head and giving up on me when I stick my foot in my mouth, or when I'm so frustrated with Him I want to spit. His grace is always available to me. ALWAYS. That's one of my favorite sides of Him. His grace. Most of the time, I'm shaking my head at His sense of timing. I never can guess what He's going to do. He constantly takes me by surprise.

But Dr. B had something to say about that. His message was one of hope and restoration. It was great! So great! How God hasn't washed His hands of me. He hasn't! Never has, never will. He'll always be constant and committed to me. To look up and talk to Him even when I feel I'm far from where I want to be. Keep talking to Him, He's listening. He wants to hear from me, no matter what mood I'm in! Wow.

Over the past few weeks all I've done was cry at church. Its humbling in the fact that I can't explain to you why. Tears just stream down my face, and I just don't know why. I can't pinpoint what "it" is. I just flatout sit there like a lump on a log and cry. I'm just empty. And I've tried to hide it. As I type this, one of my pastor's old sermons is streaming. He is talking about how being a community of faith means times when I can walk in and be a wreck and it be ok. (Funny how his sermon lines up with the sermon from tonight. I love when God does that!)

Usually I run. Not like exercise, I run when I'm scared or don't understand things. Especially when I ask God to take something out of my life. If He doesn't, its my gut reaction to run from Him. In actuality, God is taking those broken dreams and hopes and turning them into something I can't even imagine. Dr. B said God has better days ahead for me. I'm positive he didn't mean just me, but even still, knowing that He wants to take the time to put my life together is an awesome and humbling thought.

Tonight I sat in church and cried through another service, yet again. But these were tears of hope and joy that God is going to show off in my life! When it comes down to it, of all these things I could ever hope for in this world, I want every part of me to be pointing you to Him. Even when I'm a wreck AND sticking my foot in my mouth...

Hope and Tough Decisions

Ruth is a book of hope and decisions. I've been reading it a lot lately. Its refreshing to see Gods hand in every aspect of the story. And yes, while its a beautiful love story, its also so much more. Its a book about big decisions, hope and trust. Each character in the story has his or her own decisions to make...

Orpah, whose name means stubbornness, has to decide to go back to what she knows or stay with her sister-in-law Ruth and mother-in-law Naomi...

Naomi has to decide that God really is in control even when He appears to be dealing harshly with her...

Ruth, her name means friendship, decides to follow God and care for Naomi. She also decides to gather up her courage, take the initiative in humbling herself before Boaz and asking for his protection...

Boaz himself has a few big decisions to make. He knows Ruth is a "woman of noble character" but even when she comes asking for him, he decides to let the kinsman redeemer make the decision of caring for Ruth. Boaz loves her, but he still does the noble thing...

The kinsman-redeemer has a decision to make too. He can accept Gods blessing of Ruth in his life or he can pass her by. And in deciding not to care for Ruth, gives up the many blessings God would have made available to him in her. His decision ultimately clears the way for Gods true purpose of bringing Ruth and Boaz together...

I think I see me in all of the characters of the story. Stubbornness, self-pity, courage, faith, love, purity, fear, hope. Right now, at 7:06am, I'm hopeful and expectant. Hopeful that God has His hand on me and my life and is guiding my steps to becoming who He's called me to be...

Couch Potato

So my roomie is moving. She's brilliant so she's going to graduate school up north. And that's enough of that cuz just thinking about it gets me a bit misty eyed. She's one of the best people I know, and I know some great people.

In the middle of trying to find a roomie, and not trying to stress over trying to find a roomie, I needed to buy a couch. Now, I'm not at the point where I can afford or need to buy adult furniture. But I also don't want a bare room. So Saturday morning, I woke up at 3:30am. Laid there, asking God why He feels the need to wake me up at 3:30, listened, then went back to sleep. Around 7, I woke up again, got dressed and decided to hit the garage sales.

On my way to the bank, I passed a yard sale sign. After grabbing the cash, I came back to the yard sale sign. And there was a couch. With a full size bed in it! So I tell them its exactly what I need but I'm a little freaked out since this is the first garage sale I've come to. I take their phone number and then go drive around to a few more sales. Call the folks and my sister, wondering if its just God doting on me by giving me the one thing I need on my first try.

Long story short, I buy the couch but it needs work. Especially after I get the pillows in my car and it smells like dog. Hair everywhere. Courtney and I decide to fix it up. I know what look I want. Not the I'm in college look, but not the baby on my hip look either. Somewhere in the middle.

We got creative. I tossed the pillows, smelling of dog, and bought some floor cushions as the backs of the couch. Toss in a few throw pillows, and a slipcover and I've got a new living room. I love the colors. Its a cream weaved slipcover, with two of the cushions being a rich burgundy color, and the middle cushion is a corresponding cream color. The throw pillows are a chocolate brown that tie in the side chair. I'm quite proud of it actually. Its my first time at home decor and I kept asking Courtney if she liked it. Of course she's the best cheerleader I know so she kept me excited about it when I thought I'd bitten off more than I could chew.

The only problem we had in the whole thing was getting the fabric back onto the seat cushions of the couch. Today I was starting a load of laundry and I can hear Courtney getting frustrated. I come back into the living room and she's trying to shove the cushion back in but can't. I have an epiphany. We force the cushion into the sham then I jump on it, using my weight to shove the cushion further into the fabric. It worked pretty well, until I almost ate it cuz I slipped.