Knowledge is Power?!

So I go to the Ring Apologetics class. It's fun. We just finished C.S. Lewis' The Abolition of Man. Which sounds like a mouthful, but its really not that bad. Tonight we met at Canes because Robert hadn't eaten anything. So we are all sitting there and someone yells out Otto. Robert gets up and gets his food, then comes back to tell me its been six years and he's never had to use his real name at Canes yet. Then I hear the other names being called out. Bo Jangles, Wolverine. Apparently, Robert is a trendsetter.

We all sit down and starting picking apart chapter 3 of Abolition. In a very basic nutshell, Lewis talks about man conquering Nature but in conquering Nature, its actually Nature conquering us. As in the more you know about something the less you know about other things. Therefore the more power you have the less powerful you are. That's just my take on it, and I could be completely off. I'm relatively new to the class.

Anyways, we're tackling Rudolf Otto's The Idea of the Holy for the next class. Not all of it. Just the first 25 pages. Which doesn't seem like much but word on the street is Otto is tough. Likes to throw in now obscure references. And throws in a few Latin words to keep it interesting.

Reading Latin is not one of my talents. But stubbornness and determination sure are, so bring it Otto...

Let Us Bake Bread Together

I have an announcement. I hope you're sitting down because this is big. Drum roll please..... I made brownies yesterday. I know, you never thought I had it in me, huh? Well, me neither. Here's how it all went down...

Courtney needed to grab some groceries yesterday so we hopped in my car and went to Target. We were slated to play tennis but with the rainy weather decided to skip tennis, but definitely make the brownies we tried to get last week. So we grab some brownie mix (with walnuts), a half gallon of french vanilla ice cream and we're set.

Fast forward to us sitting on her couch and I decide I'm going to try my hand at baking. Courtney says, "Are you sure?" I toss my hair, get a decidely determined spark in my eye, and head into the kitchen. I think I had the same expression on my face that people who go to war have. The I'm going to conquer this if its the last thing I do look. Yep, that was me.

I go into the kitchen, grab the box and start. Courtney is hovering behind me because we only bought one box and I better not screw this up or we wouldn't be having brownies at all. So, everything is in the bowl, I haven't messed up anything yet. It needs to be mixed together so I'm stirring and stirring. Making sure there aren't any clumps in it. Well, there aren't just a few clumps, there's practically dozens. And I'm like, "What the crap?!" I'm putting serious elbow grease into stirring this brownie mix and its still clumpy! And then I realize that the batter is mixed fine, its the walnuts that are in the mix that are making the clumps. Dang it!

So the mix gets poured into the pan, popped in the oven and the timer is running. Sarah comes by in the meantime and gets excited about brownies and the fact that I've just baked them. So I keep checking them to make sure they're done. The time the knife comes out clean, I'm like, tah-dah! Could it be? Have I just successfully not messed up cooking something? I get the pan out, kind of excited. They need to cool off, so they sit on the stove for a minute.

Later, Sarah and Courtney go in the kitchen to make the brownie sundaes. Its kind of quiet in the kitchen. And I know what that kind of silence means. It's the silence of, "These aren't done, but we're too polite to tell her." So I say, "Ok, they aren't done are they?" The girls both chirp up, "O they are perfect for ice cream!" Which means they are still gooey on the bottom.

O well, one of these days, I'll do something completely right in the kitchen. Assuming I keep conquering my fear of not burning the house down while attemping to cook.

Thoughts of a Random Nature

In a blatant attempt to not be Debbie Downer, I'm going to give you a few random fun facts about me. Only because I don't know that many fun random facts about you that I can list. Plus I don't mind embarrassing myself. And no way will I intentionally embarrass you...

When I was in Toronto (age 17) a bird pooped on my head. I was standing underneath a crosswalk sign and plop!

I truly wish I could cook. Instead I eat stuff out of boxes. (Gotta keep my girlish figure.)

I passed out in the theater while watching Blair Witch. Fell into my friends lap. He consequently freaked out, picked me up where I woke up in the lobby.

I can juggle.

The only time I've been skinny dipping was in Loch Ness. It was midnight and freezing cold. But I'd still recommend it.

I hate feeling stupid, but will act like a clown if it makes you smile.

I am shy.

I find it odd that I don't use my bible on Monday nights.

I hate pictures of myself.

I like watching cartoons. No, I'm not too old for them.

I can fake athleticism.

I truly enjoy belting out 80s tunes till my voice cracks. Who am I kidding? I pretty much enjoy belting out any song. I do get shy in front of crowds though.

One of my nicknames is Robin.

The Four Loves

Tonight I sit and type this while listening to The Four Loves by C.S. Lewis. I'm going to write about my day in third person because its easier to type that way...

There are times when Alli is in love with the idea of being in love. Maybe during a romance movie or seeing parents play with their kids, Alli might feel the spark of hope that one day that will be her. It's not an everyday state of mind, this hope of love, it ebbs and flows.

Well, today Alli had a date. Alli hasn't been on a date since her junior year in college. So, hmm, the year 2002. Alli was asked on a date because of pure physical appearances. (On a sidenote, while Alli appreciates "Dan" finding her physical appearance appealing, she yearns to be seen as someone with a beautiful heart, not necessarily a beautiful face.) Dan had seen her a few times through job stuff and thought she was attractive enough to ask out. So Dan asks her out.

Now, Alli, doesn't know Dan. But she's not the type to reject and hurt someone just because she doesn't know him. So she agrees to go out with him. Why not? He could be just what her heart needs. Speaking of Alli's heart, its taken. Two have ownership of it. One of them is the MAN. God. Jesus. The Alpha and Omega definitely has a home there. She's His.

Alli agrees to meet Dan for lunch. He'd asked for dinner, but Alli is commitment-phobic. Dinner seems like a much bigger deal than a casual lunch. His first suggestion is sushi. Alli isn't comfortable sharing chopsticks with a perfect stranger, so his second choice is Italian. She's not opposed to Italian, but loves Chinese, Mexican, and you've jumped to head of the class if you take her to Outback. She's a Texan, which means beef-eater. Give her a slab of meat and she's a happy camper.

The plan is to meet for 2pm. She shows up at 10 till 2, thinking that he's already there and waiting for her. Nope. Five till 2, no sign. 10 minutes after 2, he's still not there. Alli is checking her watch and thinking, Ok, in college Ph.D.s get 15 minutes. That's how long he's got before she walks. At 2:13, he comes into the door. No apology for being late, just an I'm here and let's go eat.

Hmm. Ok. So they go and sit down. She slides into the booth, he slides in across, laying his Marlboros on the table along with his cell phone. She notices his smokes as well as his tattoo that completely covers his right arm. She mentions that she needs to be at church at 4pm so she's going to keep her cell phone on the table. He tells her that's fine and he has no time for God or church. At this point, Alli has decided that this is going to be interesting.

They sit down and the first question he asks her is How's school? Alli is not in school. She hasn't been in school for three years. So he's doing the math in his head, "So you were in college in ninety-" Alli cuts him off here saying she started college in 2000 and graduated in three years.

The rest of the lunch revealed his age: 36. His location: Central. His work ethic: I work all the time and have no time or interest in anything else. His temper: I get mad real quick. It's almost unbelievable how mad I'll get in such a short amount of time. His family relationships: (This is where he unloads about his dad. People just unload on Alli a lot, not too sure why that is..) His previous marriages: Two. His outlook on Texas: Hates it.

Towards the end of the lunch, they are talking about movies. He lists a few, Scarface, Godfather, etc. Alli says she hasn't seen any of those, all this "clean living" she does. Alli cracks jokes to get her point across that they are so different there's not a snowballs chance in Hades that this will ever happen again.

Turns out Dan could not be more attracted to Alli's innocence. In fact, while Alli thinks this is a valid reason for them to never hang out again, Dan appears to think the exact opposite. He very much wants Alli to come over to his place one night and "watch a movie." He says there's nothing wrong with clean living and he could teach her a lot of things.

At that comment, Alli decides she has to pee like her life depends on it. She ducks into the loo to pray for a lightning bolt to strike her dead right then and there so this will be over. No such luck. There's thunder rolling outside, but that's about it.

Alli comes back to the table and he pays and walks her to her car. He makes a wisecrack about how her job must be keeping her comfortable to afford such a nice car. He opens the door and then uses his body to block the door. Alli, meanwhile, is thinking, O God, please don't let him try to kiss her. (Alli's self-defense is passive-aggressiveness. She'll let anyone do whatever, but then she'll hate herself for it.) So she's almost resigned herself to the fact that her first kiss is going to be from a man so completely her opposite that its a miracle they've met on the same planet.

Then something surprising happens. A tiny part of her takes up for herself. Alli puts her purse and jacket in her lap. Building a wall of stuff to discourage any type of leaning in. Then she sticks her elbow out to use part of her body to discourage any type of contact.

Meanwhile, he's still talking about clean living and how she should come over to his place sometime this week. When he reaches down to shake her hand, she flinches, shakes hands, and then grabs the door, shuts it and drives away.

There's a reason why Alli doesn't date. Clearly she's not too good at it. And there's no way she's kissing anybody on the first date. She doesn't like to be touched and buying her lunch, dinner, a new house, does not give anybody the right to "watch a movie" with her.

Three girls came up to me tonight and said that they'd had the strangest urge to call me this afternoon but didn't. Next time, ladies, CALL ME. You never know what situation I've gotten myself into.

The one thing that I dislike the most about this "date" was that he didn't give one whit about my heart. I was just an object, not something to be cherished, just something to be used until the next attraction came by. I hate that I allowd him to make me feel that way.

God's got a pure love for me. He tells me daily. I honestly don't know if I'll end up a wife, it's certainly not on my to-do list under "buy milk." If its His will that I make some man the happiest man on earth, fantastic. I'd consider it an honor, hopefully having a blast while doing it. But I want my life above all else to show a life full of a love for Him. He is enough for me. In fact, He's my everything. He doesn't have to buy me dinner. I know He cares for and protects my heart. And for me, its all in the knowing.

Courtney's Blog

Consider this my shameless plug for a new blog. Courtney started writing one a few days ago. The link is on the right side of this page...

Or you can just click here...

Play nice and leave her a comment please. She'd love it...

Shake Your Groove Thang

Tuesday night was filled with laughter, sweat and a whole lotta fun. It was good times. Kind of makes me what to get off my tush and start exercising. Kind of.

So Sarah and I were on a team for tennis. She's not played in a while, but she's fast and gets to the ball, her technique is just a little rusty. I'm not much help either. My sister and I took lessons growing up so I know how to play. Which doesn't necessarily mean I'm very good. It just means theoretically I should be good.

After giving Sarah a few tips, I'm running my tush off trying to smack that ball that is roaring towards my face. (Ok, so we were just volleying, but its more exciting to read if I use words like roaring.) After a few volleys, Sarah says I've impressed her. I'm like, what? I can't hear her because the blood is rushing in my ears because of my exertion. She says she thinks I'm athletic. And then asks me if I'm a dancer. A dancer?! She thinks I'm graceful by the way I play tennis. Someone else asked me that a while back if I had been a dancer. I'm, as my mom likes to put it, just "awfully skinny." Nope, I'm certainly not a dancer. I'm not even dancing at my wedding. But I will have a floor where the rest of you can shake your groove thang.

Tuesday night was, well, hilarious. I'm pretty sure God was laughing at us. Not in a mockery kind of way, more of an, "O you girls" with a twinkle in His eye and a shake of His head kind of way. I think He enjoys us. Which is pretty cool because I certainly enjoy Him.

My Interview

Last night I couldn't sleep. So I'm not sure what's going on. I don't know if it was because I had a job interview or if something is going on in your life. I was up till four am. Reading my bible, praying, nothing let me fall alseep. So I'm not too sure whats going on with that. I hope you are doing alright...

And today was interview number two. And its the second time I heard "overqualified." God's got something out there for me, I'm just trying to be as involved in the whole process as much as possible.

But I wouldn't mind if He just laid a job in my lap. Ha ha.

Lean on You

Sunday night was a busy night and this is the second time I'll blog about it. But it'll probably be the last time I blog about this particular Sunday night. Some things just need to be said and dad gum it, I'm going to say them.

I love you. No, I'm not talking to the person who is reading this over your shoulder. It's not secret code to some else. I'm talking to you. Why. Oh. Ewe. I come to this realization almost daily but it was practically palpable Sunday night. I can almost pinpoint the nanosecond I realized that I truly deep down to the tips of my toes love you. First it was when you came up to ask me about my job and to tell me you've been praying about it on my behalf. Then it was when you were praying for me at the altar. You might not have thought it was a big deal, but to walk with me and support me while I'm weary and broken is, well, beyond my ability to communicate into words.

So thanks. And I love you too.

Minimum Exposure

Tonight the girls and I played tennis. When I say girls I mean me, Carla, Courtney and Sarah. When I say we played tennis, we played AT tennis. We might be the worst tennis players known to man. But we had an absolute blast! Sure, we were out there sweating like boys, but we were giggling constantly.

After about an hour or so of swatting at the ball, we're pooped. I go to get my gatorade out of the car because I'm brilliant and forgot to bring it with me. When I come back, there are expectant looks on everybody's faces. I'm like, uh oh, this is another blog waiting to happen. Sarah says, "Allison! Do you want to jump in the pool with all your clothes on?" So of course, I'm like, heck yeah, as long as the majority has decided that. So we pile into our vehicles and beat it back to Courtney's apt.

There's a pool waiting there for us. There's also a group of people sitting in the dark on the deck. We take off our shoes, some of us changed into shorts, and we head down to the pool. We're a group on a mission. We get to the pool. We get to the really really deep part (7 feet, the area of the pool where jaws lives), four sets of little toes are on the edge of the pool. One....two.....squeal like the girls we are and JUMP!

It was marvelous! We felt so alive! Ok, so I might be playing it up for dramatic affect. But we had a great time. We're floating around in the pool when someone says let's do water aerobics! Okey dokey. So the first task is to jog in place. On a sidenote, I've got the body of a twelve year old boy, however, the girls I'm with are a bit more blessed in that area. Jogging in water for me is not an issue, I don't have much of a chance of getting smacked in the face, if you know what I mean. So more giggling about that and I'm moving on with my story.

Alright, its time to get out. I'm getting wrinkly so we all trudge out of the pool. We go through the laundry room and head up to Courtney's apartment. Then we all decide we don't want to go into a perfectly chilled living room dripping cold. We'd catch our death. So since we're all intelligent as well as stunningly gorgeous, we do the wise thing. We all strip down to our skivvies and stand in the breezeway on the balcony as Courtney, also in her skivvies, goes to her car to get clothes for us.

And now we're off to go get hot fudge brownies....yum....

Beautiful Somehow

Well, I've never been a fashion queen
I wear dresses I wear jeans
I've even been known to wear my heart on my sleeve
I'm just your average kid next door
A plain simple mystery
I'm a self-proclaimed daddy's girl
With my share of idiosyncrasies

CHORUS
I'm just fine
I see a smile from Heaven
My father's proud
And I know that I am simply, fearfully, and wonderfully
Made in you
You make it beautiful somehow

I've got old-fashioned sensibilities
I believe chivalry still exists
And I can be a princess
Even when there ain't no prince
So what if I'm right brained
I've got half a mind to disagree
I would rather write the book
Than go and read the movie
So even when I may not rhyme
You always give me reason

CHORUS

Every day, every way
Got my elbows on the table
My mind up in the clouds
I know I'm getting better
I can almost hear You laugh out loud
The more I trust in You
The more I find
What You create is no mistake
It's purpose by design

CHORUS

Beautiful somehow
That is what You do
Beautiful somehow
Beautiful in You

Beautiful Somehow, a song by Joy Williams. A great end to my perfectly horrible, perfectly lovely day. I've got a job interview this Thursday... Just when I'm about to forget He's good and let my shame swallow me, He does something to remind me He's still got me. Radio messages and myspace profile songs are His platform for me today. He's so creative! And He's still shaping and molding me...

Eh, Put It On My Tab

Give me a few days and then you can laugh at me for this...

Today I did something I've never done before. At the ripe old age of 24, I've stopped payment on a check. (Insert horrific gasp or guffaw here.) And it's not a fun experience for me. I'm responsible, I know how to do math. Ok, so calculus 3 makes me scratch my head, but basic adding and subtracting I know how to do. Or so I thought.

The backstory behind this check is that I write it always after the 15th. It's the first check I write. It's my priority. Last month the person who signs our checks went on vacation and ever since then our mileage reimbursement checks have been off by a few weeks. I stayed on my regular schedule instead of changing it thinking I could cover it, but I can't. So I'm juggling everything around and that takes off a big chunk of my aforementioned check. There's only one option for this check. Stop it. The money's not there. So its going to the one place I'm hoping there's more grace and less judgment than I'm expecting.

I could try blaming it on my job, but it's my responsibility. I thought I'd get my check yesterday and it didn't come in the mail. If I just would've waited till next week I could have covered it. But I didn't want my job stress to filter in to this priority in my life. So I clung to my pride, wrote the check and am now humbling myself for it.

My sister laughed and said I know you think this is the end of the world, but it's really not. I'm just so disappointed in myself. God's grace is big enough to cover bounced checks, right?

Timing has never been my forte...

Ministers and MTV Interns

I love my community group. Really. Without going into too much detail they just rock my world. Tonight was the last night for one of the guys. He's going off to be a youth pastor. Since it was our last night with him, we sat him down in the middle and prayed for him. He'll still be a part of us, but his responsibilities and heart will go to his new church, and rightly so, but I'll still miss him. He's young and passionate and has a heart full of Jesus and I can't wait to see what else God is going to do with him. It's the second minister to come out of the group. It is just amazing to be able to watch God work in each one of their lives.

Another girl in our group is going to be an intern at MTV this summer. At the Ring last night I was talking to her about her summer plans and wondering what its going to be like to be for her as a Christian working at MTV. I'm sure she's not the first Christian to work there, or at least I hope not. But I also wonder what God's going to bring in her path for her as well.

Each life in my cg has God written all over it. He's involved with each one of them. And not just the little things in their lives, He's involved in the big stuff as well. And I'm certainly not saying He's not just as involved in my life as well. He sure as heck is. It's just cool to be able to see Him covering them in every aspect of their lives. GOD ROCKS!

A Square Table

I felt the need to talk about something lighthearted and enjoyable and the thing that first came to mind was my Sunday school class. Random but true.

I go to Sunday school. In fact, I go to a college Sunday school class. Am I in college? Nope. Have I just graduated? Far from it. But I go to this class because its well, kind of like my Camelot. There are only five or six of us. We aren't knights, but valiant hearts abound in that room. We don't solve the worlds problems and the tables we sit around are square, not round, but I truly enjoy my Sunday mornings. We talk about God stuff. Life stuff. God and life stuff. I like it. The questions and discussions encourage and push me to put into words my beliefs and what my relationship with Him is like.

Alas, my days at Camelot are numbered. I knew it would have to end sometime, but I like sitting around with my friends talking about God. Relatively unstructured and relaxed. It's really a pleasant way to spend my morning. And I didn't realize how much I needed that time until I see the end of it looming. But its been fabulous.

The Breakup

Last night at church was, well, breathtaking to say the least. I'll leave out all the tears and snot, but the idea that clung to me was that God trusts me with stuff. That's weird to me. And changes my perspective on my life in a heartbeat. Knowing that I'm walking through things because He trusts me somehow makes me feel better. His sovereignty abounds, and yet He still wants me involved in my life. I want a whole lot more of Him, a lot less more of me.

Circumstances are hard and intimidating and I'm going to praise Him for it instead of piss and moan. Sure, my voice cracks and I shake like a leaf when overwhelmed by the thought of the unknown, but He's still faithful and constant and just the stability that I so desperately desire. He hasn't taken me out of my circumstances. And believe me I've asked Him to. A lot. And I don't think He's said no. He's just said not now. So I'm learning to trust Him even more. Or I'm trying to anyway.

Last night and this morning I heard the same song on the radio. On my drive to work today I had turned it off and was just thanking Him for me having no clue what's going on but still wanting me involved in the process. And asking Him to help me glorify Him because I don't know what the heck I'm doing or where He's leading me. I have the notion to turn the radio back on and lo and behold, its the same song I heard last night. Appropriate in my situation. (I love when He does that.) It's a song called So Long Self by MercyMe.

Well if I come across a little bit distant/It's just because I am/Things just seem to feel a little bit different/You understand/Believe it or not but life is not apparently/About me anyways/But I have met the One who really is worthy/So let me say/

/So long, self/Well, it's been fun, but I have found Somebody else/So long, self/There's just no room for two/So you are gonna have to move/So long, self/Don't take this wrong but you are wrong for me, farewell/Oh well, goodbye, don't cry/So long, self//

Stop right there because I know what you're thinking/But no we can't be friends/And even though I know your heart is breaking/This has to end/And come to think of it the blame for all of this/Simply falls on me/For wanting something more in life than all of this/Can't you see/

/Don't feel so bad (don't feel so bad)//There'll be better days (there'll be better days)//Don't go away mad (but by all means)//Just go away, go away/

My Breaking Point

I'm stressed to the limit. So much so that I think my curls have gone straight. Ok, not really but I'm pretty stressed. Every day at work is an emotional rollercoaster. Sometimes it changes by the hour. Things happen, people get upset. Then things don't happen and people get upset. It's infuriating and makes me feel like I'm walking on eggshells.

All the stress and drama that I'm a part of eight hours a day, five days a week and sometimes weekends, I shove deep down until I almost can't feel it. I keep a calm expression on my face. I smile when I'm supposed to, I politely laugh at the office banter. I go on my lunch break, I come back. There's nothing on the outside showing the turmoil that's lurking just below the surface.

But lately, that turmoil has found an outlet. It's called my mouth. And unfortunately, the people I take it out on are the ones closest to my heart. Growing up I never understood the phrase, "taking your work home with you." And now I do. Because lately I've been apologizing for what is basically me being stressed and freaking out on you. Do you deserve such treatment? No. Did you ask for it? Nope. And then I pile more stress on by wondering if I apologized enough, did I not say the right thing, did I look at you wrong, did I smile just enough for you to know that I care about you?

I'm being slammed by my circumstances and it hurts. I'm hurt. I'm weak. And I need... Well, I don't know what I need actually. I know what I want. I want Him to sweep in and deliver me from all of this. Reading this post makes me think I need a good hug and an "It's going to be fine..." That or a swift kick to the head and a "SNAP OUT OF IT!"

How I "Deal" with God

I've been trying to train God to a barter system in my life. If I do so-and-so, He'll give me a new job. If I blah-blah-blah, He won't let me stick my foot in my mouth anymore. If I wail and gnash my teeth, He'll concede to my will.

Whoa there Missy. Let's take a step back and look at what I'm doing. God is GOD. All powerful, omniscient, rock my socks off God of the Universe. Not someone I can bend to my will. His ways are not my ways. (And thank you Jesus for that!) In all the confusion that swirls around my life, He's still constant and faithful. I can still go to Him when I'm hurting or being a brat or when I'm glowing because I know He's smiling at me. His care of me is beyond my human comprehension.

I try to fit my God into a mold that He would have to lay down His deity for. And like it or not, I'm not that powerful. Who wants a God who obeys my will? That would be so boring and mundane. I want to live a life stuffed to the brim of Him, not me trying to stuff Him into what I think He should be. Sometimes my selfish flesh is so...fleshy.

Asking For Directions

There are applications strewn all over my bed. It's a paper snowstorm. Old job applications, college transcripts, old Civil Service test scores, all of them looking up at me asking me what I'm going to do next.

This past week in the series our cg is studying, a question was asked. Do you talk to your friends and family more or more to God about the things going on in your life? Hmm. Good question. I have an issue, a concern, or a funny story and I'll pounce on the first person I see. Do I do that with God? Sometimes yes, and sometimes no. Lately I've had to rely on the earthly support God's placed in my life. And now my focus is shifting back to the vertical instead of my horizontal relationships. Ideally, I'd like a happy medium. Where I talk to you AND the God of the Universe as well. More so of the latter than the first. I need to go to Him first, then question if I need to seek wise counsel elsewhere. Would that I was not a woman of extremes...

LSU Graduation Crashing

I went to LSU's graduation ceremony today. Both of them. You might ask, both of them? And then you realize that its me you're talking to. My fabulous roomie is graduating so of course I cut work to watch her walk across the stage. I bring a friend of mine with me because I'm a big chicken and I don't know LSU very well. She goes to LSU, so I figure we're safe from any odd weirdness. O no, my friend...

We go to the PMAC, where one of the ceremonies is being held. We're in the right spot, sitting to where we can do tons of people watching. And of course, we're early so we are chatting and giggling because that's just what we do. We're talking about our last names and she says I would be in the back because of M and I said, legally, I'd be a C.

So the ceremony starts. It's all pomp and circumstance until one of the brightly colored attired PhDs knocks over the College of Education flag. And we both bust out laughing because earlier I'd said that people take themselves way too seriously...

Fast forward to the ceremony, and the Cs go by. My roomie is nowhere to be found. And her last name definitely starts with C. We get up and run to the other location of the 2nd graduation ceremony just in time to see one of the girls in our cg graduate.

We scream and yell for her, then go back to my car and leave a voicemail for my roomie telling her that I'm not the sharpest crayon in the box and I've missed her graduation. But I'll definitely be there with bells on for her graduation party.

LSU and I do not play well together.

A Baptist Nun

My sister called me a baptist nun yesterday. I busted out laughing and said "I'm not a nun, Silly!" Then she went on to explain why she thinks I'm "practically a nun anyway." She said that she was completely worldly and that I'm completely Godly. She continued on and said that I'm dedicated to my church and living my life for God. I know what she's trying to say. We live very different lifestyles and she equates a life as being "of the world" or "not of the world." My response? Yes, we are very different Fatty, but we both still love Jesus. Just because our lives look different doesn't mean that He's not involved with each of us individually.

Today I looked up the word "nun" to see if my life has anything in common with the term. Dictionary.com says a nun is "A woman who belongs to a religious order or congregation devoted to active service or meditation, living under vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience."

So let's break it down. A woman-Yep, that's true. Belongs to a religious order or congregation-I do belong to the Ring Community Church. Devoted to active service or meditation-I love serving people, but am intimidated by the word "devoted." Living under vows of poverty-Yeah, I'm pretty much broke all the time. Chastity-Never been kissed so I guess that fits in with the whole chastity vibe. Obedience-I do try my best to live my life obeying God.

Holy Crap. I'm a baptist nun.

Ms. C Tees Off

I had a work thing this evening. It was a board meeting hosted by one of our sponsors, Celebration Station. Celebration Station is this place that has batting cages, miniature golf, an arcade, and go-carts. We have our meeting, then its time for the serious business. That's right, grab your clubs, its time to golf. There are six of us, one of them being one of our board members who are going to golf. We grab our clubs, each pick out our favorite color ball (green) and we hit the course.

Let me give you a bit of my background with golf. My father taught me. I'm not that good. I mean, I'm good, I'm just not THAT good. Who am I kidding? My nerves are the end of me when it comes to my golf game. If I get nervous or excited or angry, my game is shot.

Well, tonight, I was given the nickname Ms. C. My board member said it was because my game was consistent. And the fact that I've got a chemistry degree. Everyone else was trying to show off and do the hole-in-ones. I definitely would have tried to do the fancy shots, but I'm not good at them. So I went with what I know. Head down, shoulders straight, feet apart and parallel, eye on the ball, follow through, and tah-dah! Slow and steady wins the race...

Sandwiches with My Savior

Today just might be the perfect day. Well, weather wise anyway. It's about 79 degrees, a bit cloudy, but just enough where you can see blue skies through the puffy white marshmallow clouds floating by.

Its such a beautiful day that I decide to eat lunch outside on my hammock. In my cg last night we talked about silence and how much noise we have in our lives that sometimes drown out His voice, so I've been doing an experiment of sorts. Yeah, I'm a science nerd but it helps me relate, so there. I've turned off my radio, my ipod, and even my cell phone is on silent. All in an effort to see how much noise there is in my life. There's a lot actually. There's what I define as quality noise, work, church, friends, family, etc. Then there's stuff like TV, radio, movies, myspace, text messaging, and blogs, and while they are fun, they don't add to the quality of my life, they just add more stuff to my life.

The pockets of silence that I've found have been great for me and my heart. I've been so passionate about what's going on in the lives of my friends and whatnot, that I've not been able to spend time with Him in the process. And its frankly hurt my relationship with Him. I know better. I know that to be in a relationship, both of us have to be communicating in some way, and while He's talking, I'm off and about flitting around willy-nilly watching Him work in the lives of my friends.

Well, today we had a lunch date. I sat outside on my hammock, munched on a turkey sandwich, and told Him about my life. My birthday party, my job troubles, my family. The thing is that while I get the impression He loves hearing me lift my friends up, He also wants me to share the details about my life as well. I get self-conscious talking about me and sometimes I forget that I'm exactly what He wants to talk about.

My Space?

Alright about three months ago I got a myspace page thingy. I don't know how to use it. I don't know how to add you as my friend. I did it because a few friends of mine from Texas got pages and said I should get one too. Since I'm a lemming, I got one. But only because I wanted to say Howdy to them and see their pages, lives, etc.

Turns out, apparently the whole lot of you have myspace spaces. The thing is, now when I see you, what are we going to talk about? All you have to do is check this or my myspace page to see what's going on in my life.

Speaking of my myspace, let me clarify:
One-Yes, Lanie, you're right. I'm hoping to avoid "Hey, how you doin'?" through myspace.
Two-Of course you're my friend, I just don't know how to add you.
Three-I wanted Joe's Bad Boys song as my profile song, but it wouldn't ever work, so I settled.

Four-No, I won't be putting up more pictures to "celebrate my hotness." I might be the only female representing the skinny fine club, but seriously, I'm so sure.

Five-Commenting on my blog or myspace in no way fills the friendship quota you have with me. I need to spend time with you, hear your voice, and/or see you to maintain the quality friendship you and I have. And don't you forget it.

What God?! WHAT?!

Tonight church was fine. Set-up was fine. 5:45 prayer was fine. Seeing all my friends at church was fine. Josh talked about the different ways that God communicates with us, which was fine. He listed eight different ways of communication that God can use. Prayer, the Word, People, Circumstances, Suffering and Struggle, Conviction, and Visions. And you guessed it, all fine.

Well, here's whats not fine. I sat through the last two songs, bawling my eyes out. What's up with that?! I was sitting there talking to God about, well, uh, stuff in my life. Really, you could pick out pretty much anything in my life and there'd be a prayer request in there somewhere. So I'm gently crying at the start of it, just reminding God that I'm fully expecting Him to provide a job for me here. It makes me feel better when I spit in His ear about my life.

Then as I'm talking to Him, all of a sudden emotion just pours over me. It's a little bit overwhelming and I'm not sure what's going on. I can't tell you specifically what I was feeling, but it was a jumble. A strong, powerful, jumble. I'm trying to sort all of it out when Josh gets back up on stage. He's not angry, just um, fierce. I don't know if that's the right word, but its the closest one I can think of at the moment. Like he's got something really important to say and he wants all of us to hear and understand it. Soak it into the depths of your soul kind of understanding. He turns to 1 Corinthians 6:19-20. The "your body is a temple" verse. Hmm. I'm listening but I still don't get it. Josh basically has one word for all of us. Surrender. Then we sing again. I'm sobbing almost uncontrollably at this moment. Surrender? Surrender what? You've got everything! What God?! WHAT?

Church ends, and I'm emotionally raw and exhausted. I just want to run out of the sanctuary. So I basically do; the service ended and I was out like a shot. I'm still talking to God at this point. I'm still asking What? but I'm so drained I don't care anymore. I get in my car and realize that I'm on my way to an empty house. Where it will just be me and my thoughts. I'm not excited about it. Turns out, God gave me a break. My roomie and her boyfriend were there having dinner. So we just chatted for about 20 minutes. It was nice. I talked about killing a bird, he talked about his new car, and she talked about how her dad used to make owl sounds. Nothing was full of drama and needed my experience and wisdom. It was just casual conversation full of easy laughter. I know it was God who was giving me a chance to come up for air.

I still don't know what God was doing tonight. Right now it's slowly fading from my mind, but every once in a while I'll still ask God what happened tonight. I figure He'll get around to telling me in His own time.

Mother's Day?

I'm not a wife. I'm not a mother. In fact, looking around my life right now the thought of me being a wife and mother is frankly a bit laughable. But since I love torture, I went to church this morning. I'm always a bit fascinated to see how churches acknowledge Mother's Day. I've gone to services where mothers were applauded and cheered, or where every female of appropriate age received a flower as a "future mother." Today books were handed out. And the topic of the sermon was being a Godly woman. Which leads to being a Godly wife, which leads to being a Godly mother. (A few red flags go off in my head at that line of thinking, but I'll save it for another blog...)

As the sermon went today, Abigail was a picture of a Godly woman. She was "intelligent", "beautiful", and married to a jerk named Nabal. Ok, the Bible didn't say he was a jerk, but it did say she was intelligent, beautiful and married to a "fool." The story goes that Nabal's men were well cared for in an area that David was staying in. Basically, he protected Nabal's men and flocks, and when David came to Nabal's property, asked for the same in return. David sends his servants to ask Nabal for common courtesy and Nabal makes fun of him. His men go back to tell David that Nabal as mocked him. David gets ticked and decides that no male will survive his revenge. In the meantime, Abigail hears about what has happened. She gathers food, gifts, etc. and takes them to David. She didn't have to. Nabal was a jerk, and she could've gotten out of her bad marriage by just waiting, but she didn't. She took the initiative and took action.

She meets David on the road to Nabal's home to exact his revenge. She pleads with him for mercy, and tells him that she sees God's favor on him and that he will be king one day. David sees the wisdom in her words and actions and tells her to go in peace and that he won't kill every man. Abigail goes back home and there's Nabal, getting drunk with his buddies. She waits to tell him of her actions until the morning. When she does, he essentially has a stroke, and ten days later, dies. David hears of this and promptly asks Abigail to be his wife. She humbly accepts and becomes the "intelligent, beautiful" wife of a future King of Israel.

Now I'm not a wife, nor a mother. But one of these days, I'd like to think I will be. I'd also like to think that I'm not going to be married to a jerk. I'm certainly no Abigail. But I'm doing my darndest to be a Godly woman.

(By the way, the Bible certainly tells this story better. Check it out here.)

Thou Shalt Not Kill

I'm a killer. I know its hard to believe with a face like this, but alas, it's true. We had a work event so I was driving all of us in my boss' ginormous bonneville to Paragon Casino in Marksville yesterday. We're about forty-five minutes to Paragon and there's a little bird standing in the road. No big deal, the bird will move. It's a little grey thing, calmly standing there in the middle of the lane. I'm going to say it was a female because she was small and grey and pretty.

Well, she's not so small and grey and pretty now because part of her is plastered on the front of my boss' car. The rest of her is in pieces on Highway 1. My boss said it was fine, but its the first bird I've killed with an automobile. Truth be told, it kind of takes the sport out of it.

I'm No Writer

I've written a lot on this little blogger thing. I never thought I would, and yet, I get to talking and away I go. I was thinking about how I'd like to get all this on paper without going through the months and months of archives, trying to reformat and print all of my entries and your comments.

You can find anything on the internet and sure enough, someone wrote a program to publish out blogs...

My family has a book about our history. It starts with us coming over from Ireland. I love looking through it and finding out all the neat little tidbits about where I've come from. And through technology, I seem to have written one to pass on to my children. (Hear that God?) Hopefully I'll get around to publishing it in book form so my "wee ones" can see how much trouble I was when I was young...

The Party Invites...

I don't want to be "that girl." You know, the one who shoves Texas down everybody's throat. But since its a western theme, I was wondering how to incorporate that into our party invitations. My sister has these Texas longhorn cards that are great, but expensive. So I figure, hey, I can make something like this. So I go to School Aids, a teacher supply store, and walk around. Just browsing really. I know what I want, I just need to find it. So I'm dilly-dallying around the store and tah-dah! I find exactly what I need. The cowboy hats in various colors, red, beige, and brown. Ok, I've got the flair, now I need something to write the party information on. Hmm. So I continue walking around and once again, find exactly what I'm looking for. Big tags that have already been hole punched. I just need to punch holes in the hats, get some leather or gingham ribbon to tie them with, and bam! A fantastic party invite...

Cowboys and Indians

Get excited...I'm having a party! You're invited! (Yes, this includes you, Mr. Eddie.) Ok, let me back up. Tonight I went over to my friend Carla's house. I was talking to her about life in general when the subject of my age came up. Yeah, I'm 24. And July 24, I'll be (gulp) 25.

Anyways, I said my birthday was July 24 and Carla tells me hers is July 26. So I ask if she's going to have a party. She says she sucks at throwing parties so I suggest that we share a birthday party. We can't have it July 29 because one of the most beautiful women I know is marrying one of the greatest guys I know. So it'll probably be July 15. Which is actually my sister's birthday.

Last year I had karaoke at my birthday party. It was fun. This year I want a mechanical bull. But it costs an arm and a leg. However, Carla says she knows how to make one out of a plastic barrel and a few ropes tied to two trees. So, problem solved! She even comes up with a theme. Cowboys and Indians! I'm so excited. But then reason kicks in. I don't have a back yard, neither does she. What about a park? Hmm. Carla lives close to a park, so we decide to go there and do some recon. We jump in my car, get lost trying to go the back way to the park, but eventually get there. We walk around and find the perfect pair of trees. She even has a few twin mattresses that people can land on when they go flying off the barrel.

So come to our birthday party...

When God Uses Email

There are people in my life that God uses to communicate to me. (And I'm trying to watch my use of semantics here because Sunday night the topic was how people use the phrase "God told me..." too off-the-cuff sometimes.) Anyways, some of my friends have fabulous relationships with God. Among those friends, there are a few who I lean on specifically. I value their opinion and perspectives because when I'm having a bad day, need a word of encouragement, or some wisdom splashed in my face, they do it. They call me out with grace and love. They cheer me on when I'm worn out. I respect them. I love them. They brighten my day. I don't throw them up on a pedestal, or I try not to anyway. I can just see by the way they live their lives that they have a healthy relationship with the God of the Universe. When they have something to say about my life or whatever, I listen.

Well, I just got an email from one of them. It only had a few sentences...

-----------------------------

Isaiah 22:23
"I will drive him like a peg into a firm place;
he will be a seat of honor for the house of his father."

This is one of those verses that might be taken out of context,
but was given to me by the H.S., specifically for you.
(and by HS I mean Holy Spirit).

----------------------------

This person was praying for me this past weekend and God gave them this verse. About me. I'm still a little awed that God talks about me with other people. And that people pray for me. It's incredibly humbling and takes my breath away a little bit. Anyways, so I change the him to her and he to she. Wow. I'm a peg! That's wonderful! I'd much rather be a peg then a feather. Think about a feather. They float off willy-nilly and you never know where they are going or where they will end up. But to be a peg?! Sigh, that just sounds so nice to me. And yes, I realize that pegs have to be driven into the ground. But I'm up for it if that's what He's going to do. Who am I to argue with God?

Gods' Anytime Minutes

Cingular and I had a fight today. I got back from Mexico in April and couldn't check my voicemail. I had 23 of them. And every time I tried to check them, my mailbox told me I didn't have any. My phone is a piece of junk. So if you've called or sent me a text in the past two months, and I've not responded, it's my phone's fault. Turns out, Cingular changed my voicemail profile without notifying me. (They were supposed to notify me, yet somehow they didn't.)

I tolerate cellphones. Really, I'm not a big talker on them. Truth be told, I'd much rather see your face AND hear your voice. There's something to be said for non-verbal communication.

Speaking of non-verbal communication, God and I "talked" that way a few times today. The first time I was on my way to Hammond. Sometimes the noise in my life drowns Him out. So I turned off the radio, the voices in my head, and just sat with Him. I didn't need to say much. It was just calm. Not that soul seeping peace that protects and engulfs you. This is the "make sure your armor is not loose because you're in the middle of a battle" kind of calm. I've been like this for a few days. I'm not complaining about it. Fights are nothing new to me, we're in this world, not of it, so there's bound to be a bit of a backlash once in a while.

The second non-verbal communication was when I was combing my hair in the shower. My comb caught on a cowlick. Yeah, my curls have cowlicks. Cowlicks are tangles that never go away. Whether my hair is long or short, I will always have curls and cowlicks. So I'm wrangling the comb out of the back of my hair and thinking about how God's been so amazing with me. Lately there are a lot of stressful things going on in the lives of my friends. And He's been so gracious in turning down the volume on the stress in my own life.

I love that unlike Cingular, I've got unlimited anytime minutes with God.

My Desire

2 I am the most ignorant of men;
I do not have a man's understanding.

3 I have not learned wisdom,
nor have I knowledge of the Holy One.

4 Who has gone up to heaven and come down?
Who has gathered up the wind in the hollow of His hands?
Who has wrapped up the waters in His cloak?
Who has established all the ends of the earth?
What is His name, and the name of His Son?
Tell me if you know!

5 "Every word of God is flawless;
He is a shield to those who take refuge in Him.

6 Do not add to His words,
or He will rebuke you and prove you a liar.

7 "Two things I ask of You, O LORD;
do not refuse me before I die:

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

Proverbs 30:2-8.
A passage that is echoing through my soul at the moment.

My New Job

Carl Warren tried to give me a job today. He's a race car driver participating in One Lap America. One Lap America is a charity event. Here's how it works...

The drivers drive nearly twenty-four hours a day with competition taking place as time trials on race tracks throughout the country. The event, as it always has been, is foremost one of endurance and vehicle preparation. No support crews are allowed. The tires that are used on the street are the same ones that are raced on (one set per team). Although scoring is based on performance at the race tracks, the vehicles and their drivers must survive over 5000 miles of driving interspersed with the finest meals available at gas station convenience stores. Today they were in Butte Rose, La. Warren supports Best Buddies, so we went to cheer him on. He's even got a few stickers on his cars for us.

That's me in his Ultima GTR. He told his other driver Sam he was fired and that I was in. So I'm off to join the world of professional race car driving. Of course, I'd have to leave you and there's no way I'm doing that so I politely said no thank you.

Saturday I came to the realization that while I'm commitment phobic, I was going to have to decide eventually. Either fully invest my time and heart here or always wonder about what my life would be like in Texas. God isn't making me choose or "telling" me what to do. It was just a decision I think He was leading me to make. Either toss in the towel and give up, or (pardon the pun) put it in drive and go to what He's doing in my life. Here's hoping I've got a lead foot and I don't brake for every little twist and turn in my life.

Drivers, take your place. On your mark, get set...

What is That?

My sister was talking about romance the other day. She would know, she's been in a relationship for years. Engaged to be hitched actually. She's got plenty of examples of him loving on her. Here is one of them...

A few years ago, she came to New Orleans for a girls' weekend. She and a few of her girlfriends go to some swank New Orleans restaurant. They are sitting there and a bowl of strawberries and a tray of champagne come to the table. Leanne says, "Excuse me, we didn't order this." The waiter says, "Are you Em?" (My sister's name is Emily Leanne, and he calls her Em.) So she replies, "Um, yes." The waiter says, "This is for you." Hands her a notecard saying, "Enjoy your night with the girls, Love, Louis." That little stinker had called the restaurant (from Florida) and made arrangements for champagne and strawberries to be delivered to her table. I'm so sure! Who does stuff like that anymore? And it's not just Louis and Leanne. My father still writes my mother poetry. POETRY!

I take a different point of view about the whole issue of romance. It doesn't exist in my world. Not like that anyway. I used to love the idea of romance growing up with my nose in a book. It's hilarious to me how romance has taken on different traits as I've gotten older. First it was a knight in shining armor fighting a dragon to win my hand. Then in high school it was knowing that someone thinks I'm beautiful whether I'm in a ball gown or a ball cap or worse yet, wearing my glasses! Now it's things like accepting the fact that I'll never be able to cook and thinking I'm all the more delightful for it. Or laughing at my jokes, and being content to just sit with me in comfortable silence. But I don't have any of those versions of romance. And you know what? It's perfectly fine with me. Can you believe it? I'm kind of surprised myself. Here's the thing. I'm romanced daily. No, it doesn't look like a movie, or sound like a novel. It's just simple day to day things that tell me that Someone loves and cares for me. I get those gentle whispers in my ear, and the brush of the wind caressing my face. Each and every day God has a new way to romance me. And it's always surprising and very unexpected in the way He does it.

I fully believe that God romances each one of us, it's just a matter of whether you're paying attention or not...

The Folks' New Ride

Check out the folks' new ride. They bought it in Austin today. They are very excited about it. My dad likes the gadgets, my mother likes that it'll last forever. She did mention that she didn't get the optional DVD player in the back seats though. She told the saleswoman that she didn't have grandkids yet, but in four years, she just might. My mom then told me to work on that and that there are plenty of men in Texas. Sheesh. I'm not sure how "Yay! New Car!" turned into "Allison, why haven't you given me grandkids yet?"

It's a good thing I've got a sense of humor...

Uh, Nope, Not Me

Last night I went to a Cinco De Mayo party. I brought a friend of mine and her three year old daughter with me. Actually I asked her earlier in the week to come with me because it was going to be a new social environment for me and I turn into a shy wallflower. I usually head to the nearest corner and just watch people. I'm trying to discipline myself out of that, but it takes practice on my part. So to head that off at the pass, I asked her to ride with me.

We go to the party. It's a lot of fun. I knew a lot of the people, just not enough to where I could sit there and chit chat for extended periods of time. So I immersed myself in the world of the kids. They were easy to please. Run around with them, play, dance, we just had a jolly old time. I could sound silly, act like a goofball, and twirl and whirl around with them. Knowing that the more I let my guard down and relaxed the more fun they, as well as I, would have. And it was true! I had a blast with them!

Around 9:30, I was ready to hit the hay so we piled back into my car. On the way home, we were rocking out to Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennett, and the like. So I'm belting out Unforgettable and she says, "Allison, you have a beautiful voice. I love it!" I shrug her off. Politely, but shrug her off all the same. It reminded me of when we were driving back home from Mexico and she said I could sing. I don't think I can sing. But that still doesn't stop her from every Sunday night asking me when I'll be up on stage so she can here me sing. It's a running joke between her and I. She's serious about liking my voice, and I'm serious about how it'll take a heck of a lot more courage than this mere mortal has to get up there on stage again. I'll go up there the first time the Ring has Talent Night...

Slang is Not My Forte

So lately I've had poor communication skills. Especially when it comes to guy/girl communication. Not romance or crap like that, just straight up talking. I'll say something, they'll respond. But something happens in the transfer from their lips to my ears. It's like a different language.

Well, I did it again today. A friend of mine is graduating from high school and is going to college here in BR. So I went and bought her some stuff from her future school. I wanted to make a gift basket, but not something like a wicker basket (boring). I went to a few places and couldn't find whatever it was that I was looking for. I would know it once I saw it. I'm on my way to a craft store and epiphany! I know what I want. I'm going to get a fish bowl! Then I'll put all of her stuff in the fish bowl, wrap it in cellophane and tah-dah, a graduation gift!

I'm telling people about my fantastic idea and find myself having to explain the fish thing. Then someone tells me that they've only heard freshman being called fish in Texas. Is that true? Have none of you heard of freshman being called fish? I mean, really? What do y'all call freshman here?

Playlists!

I've got an ipod. I barely know how to use it. Its the one that plays videos. I've zero videos on it. However, I do have playlists. Happy, Sunshine, We Are the 80s, Shake It, Pretty Baby, Praise It, Rock It, and the list goes on.

The playlist I'm currently enjoying is Praise It. It's got everything from David Crowder to Full Release, Chris Tomlin to Casting Crowns, Junkyard Taboo to Monk and Neagle. The songs start rocking out in sweet worship to Him, then it gradually gets a little less rock and a little more sweet. I'm learning how to mix a playlist so the songs flow. I can tell when its a funky transition cuz my forehead wrinkles a little bit as I sing from song to song. I love being the DJ and picking the background music to my own life!

Look at His Face

Meet Higgins and Matsui. Higgins is my nephew, named after the butler on Magnum P.I. Matsui is his next-door neighbor, named after some guy on the Yankees baseball team.

Matsui is a little camera shy because he's a baby. He's only a few months old so he's got those little velvety paws that are so cute! I'm actually not a big fan of pugs, but I am girly enough to like pretty much any baby animal. Higgins looks like he's royalty because he's an English bulldog. He gets this attitude of "I'm Magnificent" every time you take his picture. Actually come to think of it, he always has that attitude. But he's great fun. I mean really, look at that grin!

I've decided that along with my Texas shaped waffle maker, I'd like a puppy. No, I don't have a yard. He'd have to stay with someone else and I'd want visitation rights. I'd want to take him for walks and just enjoy nature with him. My sister thinks I should get one as a fashion accessory. Uh, no. I want a dog I can roll around with and play fetch with and get completely drenched in water trying to give him a bath in a bathtub. No tea-cup dogs for this girl. However, I also draw the line at him being so large that it takes every bit of my weight to hold him back. Higgins, for example, is like 68 pounds or something like that. Leanne doesn't walk him, he walks her. I drive a mid-size car, I want a mid-size dog.

He Told Me So

This morning I was getting dressed for my day, thinking about all the things I needed to do for work. I want to dye my hair, what someone wears to a cinco de mayo party, you know, the really important things in life. Then I started talking. Big surprise, I know. I'm talking to God about all the stuff going down in our community groups. Everyone is having trouble of some sort. And not just the, o it's finals week, kind of trouble. There's serious pain and heartache going on everywhere I turn. Sometimes it's written in their faces, sometimes it's a quiet word when I ask them how they are. But it's there, plain as day.

A few months back, individuals within our body were getting slammed. Now I think the attention is being focused on our community groups and trying to tear those apart. So I was asking God for His continued strength and guidance in everyone's lives so we can not only make it, we can grow from this experience and thrive in His awesome power.

And do you know what that superb and wonderful Man did? Well, He gave me one verse (John 16:33) that just lit up my whole face...

"I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world."

So now I'm grinning like a Cheshire cat because I know exactly what He's going to do and continue doing. And I'm so excited I can barely sit still. What an awesome God we serve!!

Science is So Cool!

I don't know if you realize how cool I am. Really. Last night I was up till the wee hours of almost midnight making a grading sheet for my mom's science fair. No, she's not competing in a science fair. She's a fourth grade teacher in the Promised Land (Texas). And she's started the first ever McCamey Middle School Science Fair.



Those Miller Girls have always been over-achievers. Truth be told, I'm really proud of her for doing the fair. And what's a little grading sheet for science projects? If I can help her, I'm up for it. The kids have made fake poo, fake barf, bogus blood. Ah, the youth of America. Science is so cool!

Turn Which Cheek?

Sometimes I wish God had a magic eight ball. Then I could just pick it up, give it a shake, and tah-dah, all would be revealed.

You see, I'm obsessed with doing the right thing. And the longer I'm on this planet the more I realize that sometimes the right thing is not the clearest thing to see. Sometimes it's the easiest thing to do in the world, and sometimes it's not. And a lot of the times in my life, the right thing doesn't look like I think it should.

Right now, it's not. I want to be grace. I want to turn the other cheek. And yet, I'm scared to. God is asking me to be Him to others and right now I just want to hole up in my comfort zone. My instinct is to protect myself from the actions' of others.

I want to be told what to do. I want to be "advised" out of the situation. I don't want to hurt others by saying No. I want to fall on my face and sob to God cuz I don't know what I'm doing. I want the decision made for me.

I want to stop acting like the child I am.

If I Could Cook...

Alright, so we've established the fact that while I want to learn how to cook, I've got little to no skill in the kitchen. But! I can actually do breakfast. No really. I can make eggs. Over-easy (my personal favorite), or scrambled, (if I mess up trying to make eggs over-easy). I can make cinnamon toast too! No toaster, I actually use the stove!! One thing I'm not sure how to do is make pancakes or waffles. I've no clue about the whole batter thing and then flipping it? That's just crazy!

Anyways, so see this picture? I didn't take it. I got it from some random person's flicker page. However, I have eaten Texas shaped waffles. This past weekend in fact. And I've come to the conclusion that I want a Texas shaped waffle maker. I mean, really?! Come on, that's so cool!

It's ironic that I can't cook and yet I want something directly related to cooking...

Going Once, Going Twice...

Yesterday I was reading 1 Samuel 18. It was the recommended reading for our cg last night, but we ended up changing plans and not discussing it.

One of the things that made me think was when in chapter 18, Saul offers one of his daughters to David. David is a war hero, extremely popular with the public, and King Saul is jealous. So Saul gets the brilliant idea to give him a wife and make him his son-in-law. I guess this was the first account of keep your friends close, enemies closer mentality.

Well, David freaks out. He says, no, I can't be son-in-law to a king! I'm not from the right family, I'm not good enough, etc. (Yeah, I'm clearly paraphrasing all of this.) So Saul marries her off to someone else. Time passes and it turns out his other daughter, Michal, is swooning and calf-eyed over David as well. Saul tries again to get David to become his SIL. David still tries to excuse himself out of it. Saul asks for a minimum bride-price for her, and David totally agrees to it this time. And lo and behold becomes son-in-law to a king, then king himself later on.

Here's what made me think. How many times does God offer me something great and wonderful and I excuse myself out of it? I shy away because I'm scared, or I say I'm not good enough or smart enough or in the place in life I want to be before He can bless me. Who said I was the one who picks and chooses when God showers me with blessings? Sometimes it takes courage and humility to accept the gifts He lays in my lap. Courage to accept and use the blessings He's given me and humility to know that He's the only one who truly knows what my heart needs.

I Heart Nancy Drew

LSU and I don't get along. We probably never will. I'm not sure why. Well, I think I know, but it makes me sound petty. I'm jealous. Yep. To be a part of a huge university and be able to relate to my friends who went there would be cool. Alas, it's not the case. I went to a private university in Texas with less than 800 people. So I make fun of them for being from LSU and they make fun of me because I'm a Texan. But it's just good natured ribbin', nothing too serious.

Well, I got a parking ticket last September and received the bill for it Friday. $7.00. The letter says I can mail it in, pay through paws, etc. I'm a straight shooter, so I'll just hop in my car, bee-bop to campus, and pay the bill. The letter says 125 Thomas Boyd. So I get directions from a coworker who went to LSU (of course!) and was on my way. I get to campus and walk into Thomas Boyd.

Turns out Thomas Boyd is apparently 15 buildings long. And of course I end up at the wrong one. So I go through two of them, and can't find a soul to give me directions. And then, I found someone! She was a very nice older woman who said I was almost there and just go to one more building and it'll be on the right. This angel's name? Nancy A. Drew. That's right, Nancy Drew gave me directions today.

Man I loved those books when I was a little girl. Nancy Drew was great! She was smart, pretty, had lots of friends, and could solve mysteries. Her books were so much fun to read!

The Look of Success

I had an interview today. It was with a staffing agency, which I'm not thrilled about using, but hey, it if gets me a job, I'm for it. I'd printed off a copy of my resume last night, thanks a la Ring, and then went to Cane's where I promptly stuffed my face with chicken, then giggled the rest of the way through my dinner with Courtney. Yeah, we giggle a lot. I think it's cuz we try not to take life too terribly seriously...

Anyways, all yesterday I'd been picking and choosing interview outfits out in my mind. We women do that. We mix and match, trying to find the perfect outfit that says, Hire Me! It needs to be professional, but I like to throw a bit of my personality into it. So I wore black slacks, bucking the system a bit because I was taught to always wear a skirt to an interview. Then I threw on a light blue three-quarter length sweater. Light and breezy looking. Pulled my hair back and up, letting a few of the tendrils escape, only because they have a mind of their own and I can't get them to stay down. Stupid curls, they drive me looney!! I didn't wear it down because I need to look like I'm an adult. I'm here to land a job, not a dinner date. And I did wear my glasses, as in Oh, look at the pretty but nerdy girl, she's harmless...

So from the top of my head to the bottom of my pressed black slacks, I look the part. But then, the coup de grace was my shoe selection. They are FABULOUS. No, they really are! They are pink, pointy tip, but not too pointy, less than a two inch heel (professional) and they have light blue flowers embroidered on them.

My overall look says, intelligent, clean cut, pretty but not pretty enough to be a real threat to any other women I'd be working with, add that with a dash of fun because of the shoes, and I've got new hire written all over me. Yeah, the woman interviewing me...the first thing she said was, "I love your shoes!" See? It works.

As for the interview, she said I was more experienced than the girl that they'd recently hired and I'm a shoe in. It's an academic advising position. She hasn't given me all the details about it. Which will be rectified promptly when I'm at the interview. I want to know what I'm getting into.

Speaking of, I think I signed away my firstborn with all the paperwork the staffing agency made me fill out...

Nope, It's Not In There

"Thou shalt not get frustrated. Nope, that's not in there." It's one of the quotes that I've got in my room. I have five or six quotes that hang in my room that help keep me grounded and hopefully not too big for my britches.

I was frustrated last night. Well, sort of. It was more of a gosh, it hurts to see that, but then it gives me the opportunity to see how I can be praying for my friends. Turns out I've got high expectations for my friends. I didn't think I did, but last night was one of those "treat people like I'd like to be treated" situations and it didn't happen. I don't expect them to be perfect, Lord knows, I'm far, far from it. But I know that God puts me in situations that if it were my choice I wouldn't be in. Just because it hurts. But however painful it might be, He keeps me calm and whispers in my ear how He wants me to see those situations. Not how my selfish human eyes see things. Sometimes I've got to use my heart when I see things and trust Him when I just don't understand...

O crap! Look at the time! I've gotta go. I've got an interview at 9am this morning...