The 30 Day Photo Challenge Day Six

Another beautiful day today.  Thank You God!

The 30 Day Photo Challenge:  Day Six

A photo of someone you would like to trade places with for a day.

Well, there's the part of me that would like to be a supermodel to know what it's like to be tall, skinny, and beautiful.  Then there's the part of me that would trade places with an actress to see what working on the set of a movie is like, or to get to go to the Oscars.  I would also love to be a famous author for a bit, like J.K.Rowling, just to experience what it is like to be so intelligent and creative.  I also thought about being Oprah for the day so that I could use her money and power for good things; no, make that "Godly" things.  She already does good things, but if only she were an out-spoken, born again Christian, she could have such an impact.

However, though it may seem random, I would choose to be...

Lisa Ling.  She is a journalist, reporter, co-host, and much more.  She is intelligent and talented, and makes it a point to cover topics that range from sex-trafficking to the war in Afghanistan.  I would love to be smart enough and poised enough to have her job; she is doing great things and has earned my admiration.

Hope everyone had a great Monday and a great January.  Let's see what February holds!



The 30 Day Photo Challenge Day Five

What an incredibly beautiful day God gave us!  Sunny, tempatures around 62, not even a chill in the breeze...I wouldn't be opposed to this weather hanging around until summer.  We've had our share of snow.   Lexi and Kiya enjoyed our extra-long walk today, and I do believe my time in the sunlight might have urged my cold to finally ease up a little.  Triathlon is right around the corner and it's hard to train while sick!

The 30 Day Photo Challenge:  Day Five

A picture of your favorite memory.

Hmmm.  When I saw this, I knew that if I really thought about it, I would spend over an hour narrowing it down.  My pile of grad school homework awaits, so I thought it best to just choose amongst the pictures that are available to me.  I do have a list of runners-up in the favorite memory category (and by favorite, I'm talking not just "I had a great time" or "I'm so glad I did that" but memories that either changed my life or helped make me the person I am today):

*Papaw pushing me on the swing.  This was a frequent occurance throughout much of my childhood.  He would push me on the swing he made for me himself that hung from his big oak tree in his backyard.  We would talk, laugh, and think together...and it always began with Papaw singing "round and round and round she goes, where she stops, nobody knows!" What a sweet, precious memory to hold onto.

*Mom reading to Stacy and me in bed; this tradition began as soon as I was old enough to sit upright, and it continued I think until adolescence.  When Stacy was born, she joined as well. Stacy and I were both very skilled and advanced readers in school thanks to our time reading together, and mom helped instill a love for literature in me so early on. 

*Christmas Eve at Mamaw and Papaw R.C.'s.  Aunts, uncles, cousins everywhere...mass chaos...fun.  Very special and missed, since those times stopped after Papaw died years ago. 

*Slumber parties with Trisha; we were both always "older" than our other friends, it seemed, and our time together was spent in deep conversations that I will treasure forever.

*Europe with Megan and Stacy.  Hands down, that trip was probably close to the best time of my life.  To experience Italy and France (and a little bit of Switzerland) in the way we did is a gift I will never forget. 

*Christopher proposing to me, on the beach at twilight...magical.

*Honeymoon (and not for those reasons, people!).  There was something so special about that first week we spent together as husband and wife, exploring the beaches of the Dominican Republic, knowing we had nothing but time.  I think we both appreciated the fact that we could laze about in the room, watching TV together, knowing that it was ok to fall asleep because one of us wouldn't have to get up and drive home. 

*My time spent doing plays and musicals at Theater Bristol from 5th through 8th grade.  I loved the theater and I still do, and I will never forget the dreams I had of being an actress.

*Our road trip this summer.  Visiting Tommy and Shari and touring D.C. by bike was so amazing, and navigating to and around New York City made me feel accomplished.

But alas, I must choose a picture of my favorite memory.  To some, it may seem bland or boring.  But for me, it just feels right.  Here is the only picture I have available to me of this memory, though I know there are better ones at my parents' house:

This is 6-year-old Shelley, fishing off of a rocky jetty at Blind Pass Beach between Sanibel and Captiva Islands.  On day one of this challenge, I wrote about my love for the island and the connection I feel to it.  My papaw bought a condo just before I turned 2-years-old, so all of our vacations were spent here.  When I was about five, my dad decided I was old enough and big enough to go fishing with him.  This was a big deal.  He would wake me up long before sunrise.  We would drive to the bait and tackle shop where he would buy 50 live, squirmy shrimp (that's what's in the orange and white bucket in the picture).  Then, it would take a good thirty minutes to drive the island and make it to Blind Pass.  By this time, the sun would be rising...since I fished with dad so many mornings, it's safe to say we witnessed many beautiful sunrises together.  Climbing the rocks was dangerous and dad had to help me when I was younger.  After finding a good rock to sit on, the fishing began.  We would catch ladyfish, red snapper, jacks, snook, and even an occasional stingray.  If we were lucky, we would almost certainly see either dolphins or manatees.  We would take a breakfast break.  To wash my hands, dad would use the windex he kept in the van and paper towels (this memory just made me laugh out loud).  Then, to my mother's chagrin, breakfast would be some deliciously sugary dry cereal (think Froot Loops) and sometimes even cookies!  Not just any cookies; Keebler Elf rainbow cookies.  I guess I should blame dad for my sweet tooth. 

As I got older, I enjoyed just fishing in silence next to dad.  We didn't need to keep a conversation going.  I would relish the feel of the salty breeze and taste it in my mouth.  I would closely observe the tiny hermit crabs scurrying to safety as the waves crashed over the rocks.  I took in the power and the tenderness of the turquoise gulf; it both terrified and thrilled me all at once.  I saw schools of fish speed by as they swam for their lives when the sharks were hungry.  I watched as the first few people arrived at the beach; women would spend time sifting through the millions of beautiful shells that washed onto shore in the previous night's storm, and sometimes other dads and their sons would join us on the rocks, casting their lines into the water.  I remember always noting that never once did I see a dad out their with his daughter; only with his son.

Obviously, this memory is special to me because of the time I got to spend with my dad.  But even so, I think it only gave me extra time to become part of the island.  I would always feel like I was one with the water, the sand, the breeze, and the sun...I got to experience nature at its best.  I thank God for those times.

Just for fun, since these pictures were on my computer, I thought I would share some more pictures of little Shelley on Sanibel Island (well, there are a few where I'm not so little, but it's ok):


2-year-old Shelley on Sanibel (not pictured to my left:  Megan Booker!)




Daddy giving me swimming lessons at the "poo". 



Shelley and Stacy waiting on Dad and Uncle Tim to get back from deep sea fishing.  Also trying not to be the landing spot for pelican poop.

Hello, little bird.

Come back, little bird.



Bubbles!



Ha!  Teenagers.  Well, I don't know about the bird.

Sunset at the condo.

Sunset at Sanibel.

Fishing with dad on those same rocks; I think I was fifteen here.

I hope everyone is as blessed as I am to have wonderful family memories.

The 30 Day Photo Challenge Day Four

Day Four:  A picture of your night.

This is my night; sorry for posting a picture of my nasty foot, though.  After a long day of playing volleyball in the Eastman tournament, my injured foot deserves some ice-pack loving.

You know who/what else deserves some lovin'?  My husband.  Why?  Besides the fact that he's my husband, you mean?  Because this husband had cleaned the entire house by the time I got home.  I'm talking dusted, cleaned bathrooms, did laundry, and vacuumed.  We usually spend Saturday mornings cleaning together, and I was simply going to neglect the weekly cleaning this week since I was playing ball.  Then I come home, exhausted, sick, feeling miserable, to find a lovely clean house.  It's his birthday weekend, he worked all day yesterday, and still chose to be a servant to his wife by doing the chores.  Not the first time this has happened.  What a blessing!  

As Christians, we are supposed to serve our spouses; in fact, we are supposed to serve all whom we encounter.  This is much easier said than done, especially when God's word can be taken and misinterpreted.  In today's modern world, many people know and recognize the verse from Ephesians that commands, "wives, submit to your husbands".  When we think of what that says, we associate submission with weakness and loss of power.  This is not the case!  Dan Lacich, who maintains a blog entitled "Provacative Christian", argues that there is more to the text than just that verse.  He references Ephesians 5:21-33 and explains that submission means letting our husbands guide us, but not control us.  We should serve them out of love and reverance for Christ, as long as our relationship is built on faith, loyalty, and trust.  In the same passage, husbands are called to lay down their lives for their wives, just as Christ lay down His life for the church.  Anyone who has been in a relationship probably knows that we should put our loved ones before us, and I also think anyone who has been in a relationship knows how truly difficult this can be at times.  However, when we read these verses in Ephesians, we are reminded of the fact that a marriage between man and wife is also used as a metaphort for Christ and the church:

Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.
Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything.
Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless. In this same way, husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. After all, no one ever hated his own body, but he feeds and cares for it, just as Christ does the church— for we are members of his body. “For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh.” This is a profound mystery—but I am talking about Christ and the church. However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband.



When we serve our spouses, we are serving God in one of the best ways possible.  God is pleased when we put our spouses before ourselves, but He is most pleased when both husband and wife put God first and foremost in the marriage.  I am so grateful to have a husband who puts God first and seeks Him daily.  Christopher shows me he loves me everyday in many ways; cleaning the house is only one of those ways.  But, on a night like tonight, I'm more grateful than he'll ever know!

To view Dan's blog, click the link below:

http://provocativechristian.wordpress.com/2009/10/12/provocative-bible-verses-wives-submit-to-your-husbands/

I challenge you (and myself) to be servants this week in the best way we can find. 

The 30 Day Photo Challenge Day Three

It's Friday.  We actually made it through an entire school week (although Monday was a 2-hour delay and Wednesday was early dismissal).  But we made it five days none the less! 

Today is my bff for life's birthday.  My bff for life is Christopher Martin, pictured here:

Christopher and I have been in each other's lives since our freshman year at Central High School.  Technically, I guess, I've known Christopher for eleven of his birthdays.  One particular birthday that stands out is his 18th, where several friends and I surprised him at his house before a home basketball game.  He was napping, and his mom actually let us go wake him up, which I'm sure was embarrassing.  She had a Cougar basketball cookie cake for him that we all enjoyed.  Lauren Cassell and I then proceeded to roll and saran wrap his car during the game...then it rained...and he wasn't very happy about that. 

He is 26 now; we're getting older.  I am so grateful that Christopher chose me to be the one that he will celebrate every birthday with here on Earth, until we are called to an eternal celebration together in Heaven.  I wish I could give him everything he wants and deserves on his birthday; he gives me so much everyday.  I love him.  Feliz Cumpleanos, Mr. Coach Martin!

The 30 Day Challenge:  Day Three

A picture of the cast of your favorite TV show.



I didn't even have to think about this one.  Automatically, my favorite TV show is The Office.  Christopher and I have every season on dvd and just watch them all on rotation, as well as the new episodes every Thursday night. 

My favorite characters include Andy "Nard-Dog" Bernard, Dwight K. Shrute, and of course Michael Scott, who is leaving soon.  I am not sure how the show will manage without them, but I hope they try; my week is easier when I know I have a new episode to look forward to!  I also enjoy Glee and Criminal Minds, but I don't watch them as much as I do The Office.  People sometimes tell me that I remind them of Pam, and I must admit that Pam and Jim's love story is much like mine and Christopher's.  Just another reason I love this show!

The 30 Day Photo Challenge Day Two

Today was a great day, even though the exhaustion and sore throat are still lingering.  Had a surprise visit from Mrs. Riden-Bacon during class today and my kids were great, all 35 of them!  I shall probably reward them with something chocolate.  I am rather fond of my classes for the most part.  Hope they don't make me change my mind.

I'm also so happy to be blogging by our gas fireplace.  The logs came with the house, and our Christmas present from the rents was to hook them up to a propane tank.  Took a while to get everything working, but I am finally enjoying their toasty warmth!  Thank you Mark, Robynn, Danny, and Glenda!

The 30 Day Challenge:  Day Two

Day 2 - A picture of you and the person you have been closest with the longest.

Next to my sister, Megan is the person that I have been closest to the longest.  Technically, I've known her longer than my sister since Megan and I have been friends since the womb!  Our moms were friends since elementary school.  Then, after getting married to their husbands, they moved into the same neighborhood with only one house separating them.  And, amazingly, our moms got pregnant at pretty much the same time.  I arrived on June 21st, 1985, and Meg followed shortly after on July 3rd.  Our childhood was spent at each other's birthday parties and an occasional trip to Sanibel with our families.  Holiday gatherings were especially fun, as Megan and I (and later on, Stacy) made up skits and dances and performed for our parents.  Those home videos are priceless and should never be seen by anyone but us.  Although we never went to the same school, many afternoons consisted of meeting on the "hill" between our houses and passing the time away in the Booker or Wingate household.  Out of our many slumber parties, I'm particularly fond of the night we lazed about on Megan's couch, watching a movie, and discovered a large cave cricket in the floor in front of us.  We were both too terrified to leave the couch, and I had to use the bathroom.  I think eventually we braved it and put a trash can over the deadly creature so we could sleep in peace. 

As we got on into high school, we saw each other rarely.  Then, about the time we were ready to graduate college, the opportunity arose for us to go to Europe for a month with King College.  The picture above is of the two of us on a train to Florence.  It was a wonderful trip and a great way to re-kindle our friendship!  I feel so blessed to have had her as a bridesmaid at our wedding, and although she resides in Knoxville, we get together whenever she's in town.  Shelley and Megan:  Friends in the womb (just not the same womb!)

The 30-Day Photo Challenge

The 30-Day Photo Challenge isn't a diet.  It isn't some sort of spiritual fast, either.  It's actually a proposal that I've seen going around on Facebook.  Usually I ignore such things, but I actually believe that this one provokes thought and consideration.  Following the specific instructions, the goal is to post a different picture every day that corresponds with each day's "thought".  Perhaps a little cheesy, but sometimes cheesy is ok with me. 

DAY ONE:  A picture of you and five facts about yourself.

1.  Currently, I've been on this planet for twenty-five an a half years.  The last eighteen of those years have been spent as a born-again Christian, loving and serving an awesome God.  Until He returns or calls me home, I hope to continue seeking Him!

2.  While there may be no place like home, and while I do adore East Tennessee, my favorite place in the world is Sanibel Island, Florida.  Sanibel holds the keys to my childhood's memories and dreams, and somehow, when I am there, it unlocks the free-spirited, un-burdened part of my soul.  Since I was two-years-old, I have spent every single summer and some Christmases at Sanibel, and it has only been since I got married that this has changed.  Christopher will testify that I sometimes cry (yes, cry!) when I think about the fact that the days of packing up the truck with my family and heading down for a 2-week-vacation are over.  I feel like the real Shelley is in Sanibel and is meant to reside there one day.  My ultimate dream for my life would be to live on the island and work in the library a few days a week; in my flip flops and tank top, I'd just hop on my bike and ride to and from work.  So simple.
3.  I am a book nerd.  I love to read, and I have trouble understanding why other people don't love it as much as I do.  Perhaps the right book has never landed in their hands.  When I think of my own personal favorites, these books comes to mind:
*The Harry Potter Series
*To Kill a Mockingbird
*The Kite Runner and A Thousand Splendid Suns
*The Secret Life of Bees
*The Book Thief
*Night
Books empower us; without them, our society would be nothing. 

4.  There are some weird things that only the people closest to me know.  For instance, only a few people know about my obsession with two particular celebrities:  Dolly Parton and Steven Tyler.  Opposite ends of the spectrum, I know.  I don't even like country music, but for years I have just LOVED Dolly herself.  I have a few CD's and songs that I do enjoy, but it's just her that I adore.  I love how honest she is; she's funny, spunky, and charming.  She's delightfully and purposefully trashy in a classy sort of way.  I want her to be my best friend. Honestly, if I had a dinner party where I could invite five people from history to the present day, she would be one of them.  (Elie Wiesel, Esther, Harriet Tubman, and Cary Grant would be the others). 
As for Steven Tyler, I've loved Aerosmith ever since I can remember.  I genuinely love the band's music and I adore Joe Perry too.  But I guess I have just always like Steven Tyler's bold, in-your-face personality.  His stage presence is fantastic and not quite as goofy as Mick Jagger.  I thought Steven Tyler was selling out by doing a show like American Idol, but after tuning in for a bit the other night, I thought he made a fantastic judge!  And yes, I've considered auditioning just for the chance to meet him.  I would do it. 

I would.
5.  I love my husband.  I love my family.  I love my animals.  I (sometimes) love my job.  And I suppose that's all there is to it.

The Cat Lady

Well, we made it through a whole week of the new school year...almost.  We had a snow day on Friday which was much welcomed by me; I felt terrible (and still don't feel well) and I slept in much later than I EVER do.  I took advantage of the extra day to get some of my grad school work done.  My throat hurts, my glands are a little swollen, and my body is fatigued and achy, but I really don't like the thought of a $50.00 co-pay to go to urgent care.  Yay for the new insurance! Not.  My triathlon training is not going so well because of this sickness and an aggravated tendon in my foot that has been on and off since October.  It's hard not to get frustrated right now.  I don't have access to a pool, even though there is a nice one at work, so I don't even know when I will get to start training for the swim portion.  With my foot acting up, I can't force myself to run or even do anything high impact (like P90X plyometrics).  All I really have right now is the indoor trainer for my bike, so my quads are on major overload!  Anyway, I'm just praying this week for strength, energy, and healing.

On a different note, I feel the need to talk about cats and dogs.  To begin with, before going to bed last night, I watched two episodes of Animal Hoarders.  If you haven't seen that show, you'd be horrified to see how some people live with so many animals.  Christopher and I have two cats and two dogs.  Now, the dogs are really my step-dogs; I inherited them when I married Christopher.  There truly is that feeling of them being my "step-dogs"; neither one of the dogs is a dog I would have chosen myself.  In fact, my whole life I have longed to have a golden retriever and had been planning on getting one when I got my own place.  Then Christopher and I fell in love, and, well, that's that.  No golden retriever for me until Lexi and Kiya are no longer with us, and that's ok.  Lexi and Kiya stay outside; we purposely bought our house with a large, flat backyard for them to roam around in.  My dad and Christopher also built a beautiful 6-foot-fence all the way around the yard so that Miss Jump-Over-Anything-In-Order-To-Escape-Kiya would be secure.  Lexi and Kiya are ok, but even Christopher has admitted that he would trade both of them for the dog of his childhood, Tara.  I didn't have a dog growing up, but I have always loved them.  I can name several dogs over the years that I didn't care for very much, and Lexi and Kiya aren't my favorite, but there is no doubt that dogs are possibly the best companions to have ever walked the planet.

Kiya in the snow.

Lexi with her big bone on Christmas morning.

 

Christopher with the mutts; summer 2009.

Except for cats, that is.  I had a love and fascination for cats since I can remember.  Pictures of a 7-year-old Shelley wearing a cat nightgown (The cats are on the front reading the "Caterbury Tails") are proof that I was even willing to wear cat clothing.  A birthday cake with a Lisa Frank cat design comes to mind as well.  My family got Oreo for me when I was only 7.  Oreo was a regular ol' black and white tabby.  Extremely lazy and easy-going, Oreo was an indoor-outdoor cat.  He typically went to bed with me, then woke me up around 3:00 am to go outside, not to be let in again until the next morning.  Oreo was likeable because he was friendly, never meowed, and would gladly curl up on my (or my dad's) lap.  He didn't jump up on counters and he didn't wreck the Christmas tree.  He was content just to be alive.  In my later years of college, Oreo began to lose weight and was very sick.  In hindsight, I let him live far too long after he became so weak; it was in September of 2007, when I was 22-years-old, that my mom, Christopher, and I scooped him up and took him to the vet.  I will spare the details of what it was like in that room.  I was very much aware that my sobs and tears weren't only of grief for the loss of my pet, but for the loss of my childhood that he represented as well.  Fifteen years is a long time, especially when those fifteen years include me progressing from a child, to an adolescent, to a teenager, and to a young woman.  The doctors wrapped him up for me, and I let my tears fall on the little bundle in my lap in the car ride home. He is buried in my parents' backyard.

Oreo.

Before I go on, I must note that it always surprised me how many people hate cats.  I am blessed to have families (on both sides) who love cats and a husband who loves them too.  Yes, I've met several cats I don't like.  There are some that are mean, irritable, and cause nothing but grief.  But aren't there dogs out there that fit that description as well?  Sure there are!  I find that people who don't like cats are people who have never really been exposed to them, and therefore don't understand them.

Just weeks after Christopher and I got married and moved in together, we got Fitz and Rhea.  It was kind of an accident.  Christopher had made the deal with me that since I was having to postpone my dream of having a golden retriever, he would buy me the cat of my choice.  I had already mentioned that I would like an orange cat.  On a typical day of running errends, we decided to take a stroll through PetSmart, just to browse.  And it just happened.  The Washington County Animal Shelter had several cats up for adoption, and we immediately spotted a tiny, orange and white tabby.  We asked to hold him, and when his kennel was opened, another unusual-looking kitty scurried out as well.  This kitty looked half-calico and half-gray tortoise shell, with what looked like a fiery flame on her face.  We held both kitties in our laps, just 10-weeks-old, and the lady mentioned to us that we would get a discount for buying two kitties and not just one.  These kitties were brother and sister; how could we resist?  So, without food, litter boxes, or any other necessities, we held the kitties and drove them home.  A year and a half later, Fitz and Rhea have become family.  Yes, they picked apart our leather furniture until they were old enough to be declawed.  Yes, they climb up in the Christmas tree and send needles and ornaments everywhere.  Yes, we have a house full of cat hair.  But they make me so happy.  Fitz is laid-back, lazy, and cuddly.  Rhea is spunky, smart, and full of affection and personality.  She is as smart as most dogs I know; I am not kidding. 



I guess I felt compelled to write this tonight because of something that happened in the early hours of the morning.  I woke up at some point in the night on my back with Rhea nestled on my chest, purring loudly, and Fitz curled up against my side.  They were warm, soft, and peaceful.  I placed a hand on each of them and just reveled in how happy I was.  Then I almost laughed outloud.  Here I was, curled up in bed next to my husband, surrounded by my cats, thinking about how such simple things bring so much happiness.  I am sure the happiness that a mother feels when she holds her child surpasses this, but seeing as I'm not hoping to have a child in the human form anytime soon, I am taking advantage of the affection I feel for my animals. 

I hope to be here on Earth, 40+years from now, rocking on the front porch with Christopher, golden retriever at my feet, and a cat in each of our laps.  It may not fit the stereotype exactly, but if teenagers living down the street want to call me The Cat Lady, I will be ok with that.

Fitz and Rhea the day after we adopted them.

Little Fitz.

    

Little Rhea.

Big Fitz.

Big Rhea.

And lots of love.

Underdog

I am so weak and I'm so tired; it's hard for me to find enough strength to feed the fires

that fuel my ego

and consequently all my pride has but died which leaves me

down on my knees, back to the place I should've started from

Been beat up, been broken down
nowhere but up when I'm face down on the ground
I'm in last place, if a place at all, but there's HOPE for this underdog!

That's the way, uh huh, we like it
they call me the underdog.

I'm in this race to win a prize, the odds against me

the world has plans for my demise, but what they don't see

is that a winner is not judged by his small size, but by the substitute he picks to run the race

and mine's already won.

-"Underdog" by Audio Adrenaline


"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God."
Hebrews 12:1-2

Thankful tonight for a Savior who is strong when I am weak, and who pushes me to carry on when I feel like quitting.

Sunday Summary

Due to the two hours I just spent writing my first essay for Grad School, plus the other reading/writing/work I've done today, I believe I would prefer to simply compile a list of my thoughts at the present time.

*I loved my homework today.  I truly must be a nerd.  I'm also greatly looking forward to reading 40 childrens' books and 8 childrens' novels from now until May.  No, I'm serious.  (Shoutout to Jennifer Greeson for the fabulous recommendations!)

*I wish I could just get paid to be a student.  It seems to be a wondrous profession/vocation.

*I love basketball.  It's my favorite sport, and I got a lot of it this weekend.  Attended the varsity boys' and girls' games Friday night and Saturday night.  Unfortunately, the boys didn't do so hot either night and blemished their almost perfect conference record.  I love these kids though, and I love to watch them play.  Also, my beloved VOLS pulled off a win over Vandy.  Came back from a 17-point deficit to win by 3.  Go Vols!

*Right now I'm taking a break from schoolwork to blog.  I'm also watching the Golden Globes.  As a young girl, I used to dream of being an actress.  I loved performing in plays and musicals at Theater Bristol.  It is safe to say that since adolescence, I have watched nearly every Golden Globe Awards show and the Oscars.  I think Hollywood actors and actresses are the closest our country gets to royalty (outside of the President).  While it may seem superficial and shallow to ooh and ahh over beautiful red-carpet gowns and sappy acceptance speeches, I believe these award shows are crucial to maintaining a sense of history and aspiration.  Movies, tv, and the people who make them have been bright spots in a dark economy more than one time throughout our nations history.  Why not take time to forget about the harsh realities and responsibilities of daily life, and honor those same people whose sole profession is to help us do this very thing? 

*Chris Colfer, who plays Kurt on one of my favorite shows, Glee, just won a Globe!  Go Kurt!

*Official triathlon training starts soon.  This 40+ degree weather is welcome!

Hope everyone has a great week!

Tested

Today, I was tested.  And not for strep throat.  I was tested to see if what I said in my post last night was true; am I going to make an effort to not let stress consume me this semester and to give God complete control over my life? 

Yep.  Should've known within minutes after arriving back at school that the muscles in my neck would start to tense up and the wrinkle in my brow would seem to crease permanently.  After spending my second day of morning bus duty standing out in the 12 degree weather for 22 minutes (I was thinking positively the whole time, telling myself only 6 more days of morning bus duty to go!), we were finally able to go to our new classes.  I soon realized I am going to miss my classes from last semester more than I thought.  I will not go into detail about this though, because nothing good can come from my complaining.  If teachers could create their own rosters, we'd all be happy, eh?  The real kicker came today when we were told that our school is officially under "corrective action".  This is NOT good news. 

To explain this in the simplest terms, our school has been a target school because we did not meet the graduation benchmark a few years ago.  The community thinks this is because we are simply pathetic and can't get kids to graduate.  This is not the case.  Back in 2003 and 2004 (my graduating year, as well as Christopher's, was 2003) we had the highest graduation rate around.  Our rate was MUCH higher than the almighty DB and Science Hill.  Because of these fabulous rates, our benchmark was thus set higher to a nearly unattainable percentage.  Therefore, when we didn't meet that excrutiatingly high mark, we were scoffed at by the community and the state of Tennessee deemed us a target school.  This meant for the past few years, we've had to do extra work and make special adjustments to get more kids to graduate.  At first, we thought we had met the rate last year.  But then, the state decided to change its mind about a few things and now, as it turns out, we didn't make it, thus rendering us in a very frightening state of "corrective action".  This means that later this spring, the powers that be are going to come in, audit the school, and possibly make a clean sweep of anybody (teachers, administrators, etc) whom they feel are not effective.   This thought brings sheer worry, fright, and anxiety to my already frazzled mental state.  Not only am I not tenure (this is my tenure year), but I teach a class with a state-mandated end-of-course exam, which my students this past semester didn't do so well on.  Why didn't they do so well?  Is it all my fault because I am a terrible teacher?  No.  They didn't do so well because they could care less.

For those of you that are teachers, you feel my pain.  If you're not a teacher, please understand that for those of us that give state tests (some English teachers, some History teachers, some Science and some Algebra teachers), our jobs depend on how well our students do on these tests.  And for those teachers that don't have state mandated testes, their jobs depend our our students' test scores as well now!  That means that my test scores affect me AND my husband, who teaches PE and has no state test to give.  Please understand the position we are put in; a classroom filled with 35 teenagers.  They don't bring pens or pencils to class.  Some can drive but can barely spell the word "car".  Most would rather slice their toes off before even pretending to care about grammar, reading, and some stupid state test.  They miss school every other day.  Some have terrible home lives, and some have no home at all.  Several students find it extremely pleasurable to fill in pretty patterns on their test answer sheets without even looking at the test, knowing full well that we teachers are close to tears because of their actions.  I can work for hours on one lesson plan and put on the best show and sing and dance to keep their attention, but it doesn't matter.  They don't care. 

It is safe to say that today was stressful.  I cannot deny that the reality of what could happen to me or Christopher this spring is scary.  However, as Christopher said, I have no more control over my kids' scores from last semester.  Like I mentioned in my post last night, I have to learn to let go of the things I don't control.  What I CAN control right now are things like:
1.  my attitude
2.  my efforts to help students succeed this semester
3.  my self-discipline
4.  my happiness
5.  my prayer life and relationship with the One and only true Stress-Reliever

Friends, on behalf of all of us at Central, I ask for your prayers.  It is going to be yet another challenging semester, and it feels like there is an ever-present axe looming over our heads at every moment.  And, as I know so well, God provides; He always provides.

Type A

I do believe we're finally going back to school tomorrow, and I'm sure we're in for a crazy day due to some scheduling issues.  I had a great semester and will miss most of my students I had this fall.  This is a rare feeling!  However, it sends a warning signal to me that perhaps I won't feel so sentimental towards this next batch of students as next semester ends.  BUT that would be thinking negatively, now, wouldn't it?  I've been trying to do a lot less of that lately!  I've really prayed and made an effort to not only think more positively, but to not let stress and worry consume me.  I have to face it:  I am a type a personality.  I love to have control, I'm a perfectionist in many areas, and become anxious and overwhelmed easily. And it's only getting worse as I get older.  I get so stressed that I've even chosen to begin a Master's program at ETSU to become a library and media specialist.  Now, I am CERTAINLY aware that librarians have a very important job and it is not to be taken lightly.  However, sometimes the stresses of teaching feel like they're going to break me, and I really want an option; something to fall back on in case I'm driven to insanity by the many pressures of the classroom.

On the subject of that Master's degree, today was the first day of classes.  I'm taking three classes (9 credit hours) this semester through ETSU online, and when I saw the workload for these classes today, I almsot cried.  I think I asked my husband several times, "what have I done?"  I've never been a student with a full-time job at the same time.  I marvel at people of any age who can maintain a job, go to school, and sometimes even master the ultimately difficult job of being a mom or a dad!  Hats off to you if you are one of these people!

Of course, it is not too late for me to drop one of these classes....but I think I'm going to give it a try.  Again, I am going to have to really work on not becoming overwhelmed with the work that lies ahead of me.  I know all of us who have ever been a student (high school, undergrad, graduate, etc) feel this way throughout most of the semester.  The nerdy side of me is very excited to get started, though! 

Back to me being a type a...I know it is dangerous.  Literally-it's dangerous.  People with type a personalities have more heart attacks and typically do not live as long as type b people.  I have a heart condition as it is that requires me to watch my caffeine intake, exercise regularly, and at least try to manage my stress, so being a type a on top of this cannot be good.  I'm working hard on letting go of things I can't control.  For instance, I hate winter.  I do.  I am 100% a warm-weather, flip-flop wearin', sunshine kinda gal, and I've spent many a winter griping about the cold.  But what's the use?  I have nothing to do with the weather.  This winter, I don't think I've complained once.  Instead, I've made an effort to embrace the beauty of the snow (and the restful days off of work that accompany it).  I've not whined and fretted over making up these snow days either, because I HAVE NO CONTROL OVER IT.  None.  I've thanked God copiously for the fact that during this wintry weather, I have a warm house, warm clothes, and hot meals.  How many homeless people die each night because they have none of the blessings I just mentioned?  How many single parents out there TRULY have something to worry about, like how they're going to pay the next bills or protect their child from the cold?  My worries and fears pale in comparison.  There are people battling cancer, or watching a loved one battling cancer.  There are people in Haiti living in tents, and people in Brazil and Australia who have just watched their home wash away with great floods.  There are those mourning in Arizona, and those who are having to face the humiliation of begging people on city streets for money or food.  And I dare, for a second, to even think that my worries of being an inadequate teacher or not getting schoolwork done on time merits the same amount of anxiety?

I know that no worry is too big or too small for God, but the point it, we shouldn't worry at all. 

"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?"
Matthew 6:25-27

"So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."
Matthew 6:34

"An anxious heart weighs a man down,
but a kind word cheers him up."
Proverbs 12:25

See, God cares about my heart, and yours.  It is now my duty to take care of it as much as I can, and that includes letting go of my worries and casting my cares upon Christ.  It is not only physically healthier, but spirtitually healthier as well. 

Chills

You know what gives me the chills? This image right here:

If you have followed the news at all since Saturday, you probably know by now that this is the mugshot of Jared Loughner, the accused gunman who provoked ultimate, terrifying chaos in Tucson, Arizona, at congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords's meet and greet. His atrocious act killed six people and wounded at least fourteen others until a few courageous citizens were able to subdue him. This story has been everywhere, with much of the coverage focusing on the young nine-year-old who was killed, as well as the amazing survival of the congresswoman herself after sustaining a bullet through her brain. However, even more chilling to me than Loughner's remorse-less grin is Lynda Sorenson's story. Lynda has appeared on several news stations now, sharing her story of how she new this man. Lynda was in class with him this past summer at a community college, and claims she knew instantly that he was very disturbed. Her classmates agreed that he was a disruption, but Lynda had that bone-chilling intuition that he was more than just mis-behaved. She presented her worries to her professor, who in turn shared those worries with other school authorities. In the meantime, Lynda communicated her fears through emails to friends that this man seemed like the type to bring a weapon to class. Eventually, Loughner was kicked out of the college. (For more of Lynda's story, click on the link below)

http://www.upi.com/Top_News/US/2011/01/10/Classmate-wrote-about-disturbed-student/UPI-14381294665655/


What bothers me so much more than usual about this is that as a teacher, my colleagues and I have either thought or said things along these same lines before. Everyday we see teenagers that can certainly be considered "disturbed" and "frightening". We don't just see them; we're responsible for teaching them math, English, and science? We have to ask them to take their hats off, put their cell phones away, and try to conduct themselves like civilized human beings, and this can be a very terrifying thing to do. One of my greatest fears when I became a teacher was dealing with students who are the type to bring a weapon to school with the intention to harm me, my co-workers, or my students.

Of course, that fear partially came to fruition this past August when a gunman entered our school.

But I'd rather not discuss that right now. The point is, this world is a scary place, and it seems so cruel and unfair that schools and grocery store parking lots can be among the unsafest of environments. Since I started teaching, I've prayed pretty much the same prayer on my way to work every morning, and it never gets monotonous. In my prayer, among other things, I ask for God to watch over all of us and keep us safe. Some may find me paranoid; some may think I worry too much. And that's ok, because I acknowledge my anxieties and ask for God to calm my soul and give me peace. I know God is in control, and that His will is to be done in my life. My life verse has always been and always will be Psalm 27:1:

"The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?"

Joshua 1:3-9
"I promise you what I promised Moses: ‘Wherever you set foot, you will be on land I have given you ... No one will be able to stand against you as long as you live. For I will be with you as I was with Moses. I will not fail you or abandon you.
Be strong and courageous, for you are the one who will lead these people to possess all the land I swore to their ancestors I would give them. Be strong and very courageous. Be careful to obey all the instructions Moses gave you. Do not deviate from them, turning either to the right or to the left. Then you will be successful in everything you do. Study this Book of Instruction continually. Meditate on it day and night so you will be sure to obey everything written in it. Only then will you prosper and succeed in all you do. This is my command—be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go."

What a joyous comfort! God specifically tells us that if we focus on His word and are strong and courageous, He will be with us wherever we go! No man, no matter how powerful, will be a match for us when we have God as our Defender and Protector.

"Rest easy, have no fear
I love you perfectly, and love drives out fear
I'll take your burden, you take my Grace
rest easy in my embrace."
Audio Adrenaline

And as Relient K would sing, "Isn't it nice to know that the lining is silver?"



To end on a lighter note, you know what ELSE gives me chills? SNOW!

Woke up this morning to find we were on another snow day (as we are tomorrow, as well!) and that's just fine with me. We have one more day we can miss without having to make anything up, and I figure since I neither control the weather nor the decisions to be in school or not, why gripe and complain about it? My only issue with snow (besides the dangers it poses for people who have to drive in it) is that it is hindering my triathlon training. BUT we do have an indoor bike trainer now which I got to test out for an hour today. It's fabulous. It'll be warm again. Eventually.

Rhea especially enjoys the snow because it brings more deliciously fat birdies to the bird feeder.

I have only one last thing to say about "chills", and that is that "they're multiplyin'"...but I'll let Sandy "tell you about it, Stud."

Steele Creek Crew

So I'm completely pooped. Why? My out-of-shape butt played 9 matches of volleyball today nearly non-stop. That's 18 individual games. This was a tournament to finish out the women's quad league at the YWCA, and we played from 11:30 until 6:30. However, the pain and exhaustion are TOTALLY worth it, because Steele Creek Crew made it to the championship for the first time ever! Last year we lost in the semi's, but today we played some awesome teams and won some hard-fought matches. We lost in the finals, but were none-the-less just happy to have made it there. Yet, it wouldn't have mattered if we'd lost every game today, because I LOVE playing with my sister and my friends, Julie and Beth. We've known each other nearly our whole lives (well, obviously my I've known my sister for a pretty good chunk of my life) and have been great friends and teammates since high school. We dubbed ourselves "Steele Creek Crew" years ago, because in high school we were running buddies, with our favorite route being at Steele Creek. Those days of running together ended when I graduated high school (Julie and Beth are two years younger than I am), but we've played volleyball together almost every year since then. I'm so grateful to have played with them year after year; our love for the game and our great chemistry make for some good times!

Proverbs 27:17
As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.

Proverbs 17:17
17 A friend loves at all times...

Ke$ha, the Anti-Christ? You decide.

*Disclaimer #1: This post contains discussion about Ke$ha and her lyrics. If you are a Ke$ha fan, well...I'm sorry for you. In many ways.

*Disclaimer #2: You may wonder why I chose Ke$ha's lyrics to pick on and criticize, when the reality is that there are no doubt thousands of artists that could've been chosen instead. I understand that. But I am only one person, who has only one blog, with a limited amount of time to explore such a huge topic.

Plus, she uses a money symbol in place of an "S". And that's just annoying.

This is Ke$ha:

She hit the scene pretty strong about this time last year with her first single "Tik-Tok". Honestly, I actually remember some of my friends and even former students complaining about her on facebook, acknowledging the vulgarity in her lyrics and musing at how nobody really seemed to think that those lyrics were a big deal. Again, to reiterate, she is certainly not the only artist out there with less-than-pure messages in her songs. In fact, while I'm on the topic, I'll mention that I was horrified this summer when I learned that a friend of mine loved to watch her 5-year-old daughter dance to Katy Perry's "California Girls" video, a video which includes a scantily-clad Katy singing things like:

"Sex on the beach, we don't mind sand in our stilettos
we freak in the jeep, Snoop Doggy-Dog on the stereo...
Sun-kissed skin, so hot, we'll melt your popsicle."

Sure, a 5-year-old probably doesn't know what the word "freak" means in this context, but why open that door so early?

Before I go any further, let me share with you bits and pieces of Ke$ha's hit songs that are played on the radio. For discussion's sake, I'm not going to edit any of this, because the radio only edits very little.

"Blah Blah Blah"
Coming out your mouth with your blah blah blah
Zip your lips like a padlock
And meet me in the back with the jack and the jukebox
I dont really care where you live at
Just turn around boy and let me hit that
Don't be a little bitch with your chit chat
Just show me where your dick's at...

Stop ta-ta-talking that
Blah blah blah
Think you'll be getting this?
Nah nah nah
Not in the back of my
Ca-a-ar
If you keep talking that
Blah blah blah blah blah

Boy come on get your rocks off
Come put a little love in my glove box
Wanna dance with no pants on?
(Holler)
Meet me in the back with the jack and the jukebox
So cut to the chase kid
'Cause I know you don't care what my middle name is
I wanna be naked
And you're wasted..."

"Take it Off"
And now we lookin' like pimps
In my gold Trans-Am.
Got a water bottle full of whiskey
In my handbag.
Got my drunk text on
I'll regret it in the mornin'
But tonight
I don't give a
I don't give a
I don't give a

There's a place downtown,
Where the freaks all come around.
It's a hole in the wall.
It's a dirty free for all.

N-now we're getting so smashed.
Knocking over trash cans.
Eurbody breakin' bottles
It's a filthy hot mess.
Gonna get faded
I'm not the designated
Driver so
I don't give a..."

But here, in her song "We are Who we Are", is what realllllly got me.

"Hot and dangerous
If you're one of us, then roll with us
'Cause we make the hipsters fall in love
And we've got hot-pants on enough
And yes of course we does we're running this town just like a club
And no, you don't wanna mess with us
Got Jesus on my necklace-ess

I've got that glitter on my eyes
Stockings ripped all up the side
Looking sick and sexy-fied
So let's go-o-o (Let's go!).."

Now, those lyrics are actually pretty mild. But when I heard this song on the radio and heard her quip about having Jesus on her necklace, I felt like I'd been slapped in the face. I wanted to somehow reach through my radio and slap Ke$ha around a bit.

But why?

My initial reaction was: Wait, Ke$ha, you can't talk about Jesus like that; it's blasphemy. In my mind, Jesus was hurt by being thrown into this song just like another vulgarity. I felt that because her lyrics are so terribly distasteful, that Jesus wouldn't possibly want to be associated with her or her songs.

Since when did I become so self-righteous that it was up to me to determine who and what Jesus wants to be associated with?

Christopher and I have a subscription to Relevant Magazine, a liberal but Christian-based magazine that explores both Christian and secular issues, music, books, artists, etc. In this month's issue, Dan Haseltine, lead singer of Christian band Jars of Clay, has an article entitled "Can Offensive Art Be Christian?" (I've posted a link below that will take you to the magazine's website and directly to the current issue. Simply scroll through the issue until you come to pages 34-35.)



In this article, Haseltine explores the mindsets of Christians who are easily offended by anything vulgar. He uses Insane Clown Posse, a notoriously obscene band pictured below, as an example.

"Earlier this year, they proclaimed their allegiance to God and Jesus in a song called "Miracles", which included lyrics like F***ing magnets, how do they work?
The knee-jerk reaction from most of the faith community was to simply dismiss ICP as absurd. However, in the messy realm of thoughtful critique, I was compelled to look more closely. The mere fact that something so crass and unabashedly twisted was being corralled under the banner of Christian exangelism had me thinking. It was almost as if God was saying: 'You think you know me? You think you understand how far I will go to pursue my people? You think you know who I can and cannot use or what language I will or won't redeem? Check this out!'"

Haseltine continues:

"We have come so far from reflecting the rebel Jesus in our art and cultural engagement that we do not recognize Him when He surfaces. I still wrestle with the fact that Jesus hung out with prostitutes not simply to tell them what they were doing wrong, but to love them where they were...if ever there was an arrogance perpetuated in the Church, our art is to blame. Our art describes the world where we live. We don't spend enough time with prostitutes and outlaws, drunks and addicts. We don't write about lust and fear and greed and obesity and broken things. We relegate our art to the way we wish the world should be and not how it actually is. We are only offended because we forget the kinds of depravity we could reach if not for God's grace...the only thing that should offend us is art that lies."

Shew. That's tough for me to swallow. Growing up as a Southern Baptist in the Bible belt, I was taught that there is no room for anyting "un-pure" in my Christian walk. Admittedly, I've always carried a sense of guilt when I listen to music or watch movies that most certainly aren't perceived in the community as "Christian". My favorite secular band, Third Eye Blind, write and sing mostly about sex and drugs. Granted, they do so in a way that couldn't be more different from Ke$ha or Lil Wayne, but none the less, they explore both subjects. Who am I to say that Third Eye Blind sings about sex in a "beautiful, artistic manner" but Ke$ha does not? Obviously, as a Chrisian, I know I have to take in secular art with a filter, firmly acknowledging what can be harmful to my own relationship with God and what can lead to further sinful temptations. God does instruct us to strive to dwell in things that are pure. Philippian 4:8 says:

"Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things."

God may not love the content of Ke$ha's songs, but He does love Ke$ha.



And I won't pretend that I don't roll my eyes when I reluctantly admit that since God loves Ke$ha, I do too.


But just a little.

7:30 AM buzz...and I don't mean from the alarm clock

First period came and went today as usual; in fact, it seemed like one of the better days. It was the last day for these students unless they're coming Friday to take an exam, so most were casually working on some extra credit while I sat at my desk and averaged their grades. I was calling students over one at a time to give them an update on their progress and to thank them for a good semester. This particular class was my favorite class in a while, and I am very close to several of the students. The bell had already rung to release students to their next class when I realized there was an empty beer can in my trash bin. Long story short, thanks to the good consciences and honesty of some of my kiddos, it was determined which student had been drinking beer behind my back during class. Now, I'm actually an extremely observant teacher; students often marvel at my ability to see AND hear everything they do and say even when I'm in conversation with an individual. They know I hear every slur and vulgarity and see every peek at the cell phone. However, this kid was GOOD! I let students have snacks/drinks today. Several sipped on a chocolate milk leftover from breakfast, or a soda they bought from the machine. But this kid...I didn't even see him with anything at all. In fact, we conversed throughout much of the class and I gave him hints to help him on the extra credit worksheet. Ultimately, matters were turned over to the administration.

This is a student who struggles due to a tough home life and many absences, but he and I have been pals since August. He's been quite open and candid with me throughout the semester, and I've done what I can to help him along. Extremely personable and polite, it saddened me to turn him in.

Wait-saddened me? What?

Yes, saddened; I am hurt that he would abuse my trust by doing this, and I also see it as an blatant sign of disrespect, but nonetheless, sadness is what I feel. I feel sad for his situation, and sad that he believes he is stuck and has no way out. I am sad that he doesn't know Christ's love for him, or maybe even anybody's love for him, and that he thinks he is a lost cause. He feels rejected and abandoned by nearly everyone in his life, and he has nobody around to share these precious words with him:

Psalm 27:10
“Even if my father and mother abandon me, the Lord will hold me close.”

Bringing a beer to school and drinking it in class behind a teacher's back is certainly not the worst offense that has occured at Central. It's DEFINITELY not the most frustrating or terrible thing that a student has done in my classroom. But my heart still breaks for teenagers who feel the need to numb themselves to all of the pain in their lives. Sometimes the only postitive influence they have is an adult figure at school. As teachers, we have a tremendous amount of pressure on us as it is, but as a teacher who is a CHRISTIAN? Whoa, talk about a never-ending job. To be a Christian is to be a teacher, no matter what our earthly profession is. I pray we all remember that we may be the ONLY source of love and hope to people we encounter.



Easier said than done when I'm standing in front of 34 rude, arrogant, apathetic, obnoxious, and vulgar teenagers.


"You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men."
Matthew 5:13

Urinary Tract Infections, Guns, and Marriage

So our fluffy orange cat, Fitz, had a urinary tract infection back in November that required two trips to the vet in one week and around $400.00 out of our pocket in examinations and medication. He seemed to be doing better, but Saturday when Christopher and I arrived home from a 4-day vacation, he was acting up again. "Acting up" involves much whining, sitting in the litter box for over 15 minutes with no results, and, worst of all, peeing in one particular spot: our loveseat. Obviously, I want the poor guy to feel better...but I REALLY want him to stop peeing on the couch! Cat urine odors do.not.go.away. Praying hard tonight for a miracle that somehow involves no more money to be spent on his UTI...

In other news, Christopher just bought a rifle. For a wedding gift, I had given him a .22 pistol; just something to have in case a skunk or something got into our dog lot and started messing with our dogs, Kiya and Lexi.

However, his protective instincts led him to desire something a little more powerful in the case of a break-in or even some sort of terrorist attack here in Cameron Court. So, welcome Mr. Semi-Automatic Rifle to the Martin household. I hope to goodness you are only to be used in practice.

(Guns scare me and I truly hope that I am never forced to be on the other end of one or to have to shoot one in order to protect myself or my family).

Nonetheless: Don't mess with Mr. Coach Martin. Or me. Or Kiya, Lexi, Fitz, and Rhea for that matter.

Somehow I cannot come up with a segue from guns to marriage so I'll just get right to it. My good friend Mandy is engaged!

Congratulations! Marriage is a beautiful covenant anointed by God when he is the main focus of the relationship. God knew exactly what He was doing when He created a companion for Adam.

Genesis 2:18
"Then the Lord God said, "It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper fit for him."

God created each of us, from our fingerprints to our talents to our flaws. Additionally,for some of us, He created a match. A partner to struggle with, grow with, and pray with. My prayer for bride-to-be Mandy and myself is to serve and bless our husbands. Proverbs 31:10-12 says, "A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies. Her husband has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value. She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life." My pride, insecurity, and selfishness are not only ugly to God, but they're ugly to Christopher as well. If I open myself to have a servant's heart, then I can bring glory to God while being a blessing to my husband. Mandy, I'm praying for you and Zach as you take this next step!



One more thing about marriage: mine is glorious, thanks to this guy right here:

And I don't mean the cat.

Giving In

It was inevitable; it is the age of the blog, and I knew I would give in sooner or later.  I had played with the idea of creating a blog for over a year, but a few things held me back.  I felt that, for me, a blog would be perceived as self-indulgent.  I mean, why wouldn't I just keep a journal or a diary if I really felt the need to see my thoughts on paper (or screen, rather)?  Why would anybody in his or her right mind want to read my thoughts, opinions, suggestions, or simple questions, and what have I got to offer the world?

Hmmm.  The latter part of that question has been tripping me up for a while now.  I have been on this Earth for 25 wonderful years, but it has definitely been these last few years that have been the most challenging.  I question my career, my decisions (past and present) and, most significantly, my faith.  My once zealous desire to please and to serve God has unfortunately dissolved into an ugly and selfish habit to just merely survive each day.  I've stood by as my soul has been sucked away by a vortex of ungrateful teenagers, unpleasant household chores, and necessary grown-up responsibilities.  I have this HUGE obstacle called "pride" that somehow makes me feel like telling God, "don't worry, I've got this all under control, and I can make my own plans.  Thanks anyway.  Oh, but please be on standby in case something REALLY bad happens; that way, I can blame the bad things on You and try to fix it myself."

Ironically enough, and just to prove that I am full of contradictions, I believe this pride comes from a major lack of self-esteem and security.  I like to be in control, but most days I feel very out of control, and the thought of admitting that makes me cringe.  I focus on my flaws but always want other people to think that I am confident and fearless.  What a joke! 

It's time to confess that I understand that I'm nothing without Christ.  I was saved at 7 years old, and at that very young age I probably understood what it truly means to be a Christian even better than I do now.  Even though I feel dirty, ugly, lazy, selfish, and extremely un-lovable, I am reminded in Romans 8:38-39 that "neither life nor death, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

NOTHING I do or feel or think or say or believe can take away God's love for me...or for you.  I may have been squandering away my time selfishly, and that guilt sometimes consumes me; but why am I dwelling on it?  If I confess my sins and ask for forgiveness, God's mercy will re-energize me to strive to bring glory to God in everything I do, no matter how mundane or worthless it seems. 
"But because of His great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive in Christ even when we were dead by transgressions-it is by Grace you have been saved."
Ephesians 2:4-5

So this is it; this blog will serve as a reminder that God has a plan and a purpose for me, and no matter how worthless I feel, I am here for a reason.  This is better than a diary; this forces me to finish the thoughts that ping-pong around in my head and hinder my ability to concentrate on any one thing at a time.  It is to God and for God I write, for He assures me "I'm a little more than useless."