Saturday, July 25, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
The Briar
So we bought a house. Through the Lord's provision and some amazing, awe-inspiring miracles, it is done. I had my friends Josh and Amy Powers over for lunch on Sunday, and Josh asked me about the things that have surprised me about homeownership (I had already voluntarily discussed a few). So I thought perhaps I would discuss those for a bit. Et voila.
1. I like gardening. When Holly would talk about her sweet potato vine, or Mom and Charlie would take pictures of their azaleas, I was always like, yeah yeah yeah, but now. Well, get out of my way. I have planted zinnias, spread fertilizer, tilled and planted a tree ring, and potted a bell pepper plant that I think may be doomed by my inexperience at repotting vegetable plants. NONEtheless, I love it. I like dirt. I like seeds. I like looking at dirt and seeds and watching what they do from one day to the next. I am already planning for my fall vegetable garden, especially since my builder's son told me today that I might as well give up on my hopes of a truly grassy yard until the fall. Blast. Oh well. Winter squash, here we come!
2. I like being here. I have always been intentional about choosing apartments or houses that would offer the maximum amount of soul-safeness one could hope to find in a rental, but until now, I just did not know how deep that nourishment can run. For the last two years (since Olivia's birth), I have shared a room with my daughter. I did this out of choice because I just knew that I would prefer to be as close to her as possible. But here, we each have our own rooms. So at night, I don't hang out in the living room, or the kitchen, or the front porch. I hang out in my bedroom. Because I can sit in my bed, with the lights on, and watch a movie or post a blog or read a book and it's okay because my daughter is in her room with the lights off and sound machine ON. I gladly re-welcome that grown-up-ness into my life.
3. I worry about what might have been left on when I leave for work. I use 4 heating devices max each morning: stove, blow-dryer, flat iron, iron. Every morning, as I am driving down the road, I go through them all mentally. Did I turn the stove off after making our oatmeal? Did I unplug the blow-dryer? Did I turn off the flat iron? Did I even iron any clothes this morning? The sense of investment and ownership jumped off the charts literally overnight, and I definitely didn't plan on that. Yes, I have insurance, but who drives away from their house each morning thinking, 'oh, who cares, I have insurance...'?????
4. I enjoy just about everything more here. The mindset of renting vs. owning really is astonishing. I think maybe it is more pronounced in the South, especially considering the fact that folks in the North can rent the same place for 20 years and have it make perfect sense from just about every viewpoint. So I definitely think this is, at best, a regional phenomenon. But I like to cook here. I like to garden here (and I have never liked that anywhere), I like to fix things here, I like to make lists about 'here'. It's more about the sense of permanence than the sense of ownership for me, honestly. It's the fact that I asked for a place to settle.
I could write more, for sure, but it is late, and I need to get my weary bones to bed. So until I write again, come on down to the Briar patch. Sit on my porch and I'll fix you some sweet tea.
1. I like gardening. When Holly would talk about her sweet potato vine, or Mom and Charlie would take pictures of their azaleas, I was always like, yeah yeah yeah, but now. Well, get out of my way. I have planted zinnias, spread fertilizer, tilled and planted a tree ring, and potted a bell pepper plant that I think may be doomed by my inexperience at repotting vegetable plants. NONEtheless, I love it. I like dirt. I like seeds. I like looking at dirt and seeds and watching what they do from one day to the next. I am already planning for my fall vegetable garden, especially since my builder's son told me today that I might as well give up on my hopes of a truly grassy yard until the fall. Blast. Oh well. Winter squash, here we come!
2. I like being here. I have always been intentional about choosing apartments or houses that would offer the maximum amount of soul-safeness one could hope to find in a rental, but until now, I just did not know how deep that nourishment can run. For the last two years (since Olivia's birth), I have shared a room with my daughter. I did this out of choice because I just knew that I would prefer to be as close to her as possible. But here, we each have our own rooms. So at night, I don't hang out in the living room, or the kitchen, or the front porch. I hang out in my bedroom. Because I can sit in my bed, with the lights on, and watch a movie or post a blog or read a book and it's okay because my daughter is in her room with the lights off and sound machine ON. I gladly re-welcome that grown-up-ness into my life.
3. I worry about what might have been left on when I leave for work. I use 4 heating devices max each morning: stove, blow-dryer, flat iron, iron. Every morning, as I am driving down the road, I go through them all mentally. Did I turn the stove off after making our oatmeal? Did I unplug the blow-dryer? Did I turn off the flat iron? Did I even iron any clothes this morning? The sense of investment and ownership jumped off the charts literally overnight, and I definitely didn't plan on that. Yes, I have insurance, but who drives away from their house each morning thinking, 'oh, who cares, I have insurance...'?????
4. I enjoy just about everything more here. The mindset of renting vs. owning really is astonishing. I think maybe it is more pronounced in the South, especially considering the fact that folks in the North can rent the same place for 20 years and have it make perfect sense from just about every viewpoint. So I definitely think this is, at best, a regional phenomenon. But I like to cook here. I like to garden here (and I have never liked that anywhere), I like to fix things here, I like to make lists about 'here'. It's more about the sense of permanence than the sense of ownership for me, honestly. It's the fact that I asked for a place to settle.
I could write more, for sure, but it is late, and I need to get my weary bones to bed. So until I write again, come on down to the Briar patch. Sit on my porch and I'll fix you some sweet tea.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Video Killed the Radio Star
A thought has occurred to me. Is web-based social networking altering the quality and depth of our connections with one another? These days when I meet someone or get reacquainted with someone from my past, the easiest thing to do is just to say, "Hey, I'll add you on Facebook/Myspace/Bebo/Twitter, etc..." And that usually becomes our method of communication, with the exception of a few rather exceptional folks who actually pick up the phone and call me or I them, and then we ***gasp*** get together and do stuff in person. There are specific examples I could cite where I have hidden behind the internet and relationships have been underdeveloped at best, but I am tired from a happy weekend with people I love, so that will need to happen later. And I'm not saying that everyone hides behind the internet...not by any means. But I do. Because I am shy-ish when I meet new people.
So I'm thinking about doing something radical (for me) and shutting the old Facebook down for a bit. If I want to connect with someone, I am going to pick up the phone, and I am going to invite everyone else to do the same. I've always wanted to do a social experiment, and I think this will be fun (and challenging). So yeah. That should be coming down the pike here in just a few days.
I love connecting, and I want to do it the best way it can be done. For all of its wonderfulness, electronic communication also poses some of the greatest challenges to the communication model by layering filter upon filter and subsequently removing several key tools for interpreting a given message. To be clear, though, I am not boycotting Facebook or Myspace or Twitter or e-mail. Just going to step back a bit and rethink how and why I use it.
In the meantime, I am on the hunt for scripture verses that address industriousness vs. laziness, doing good work (as unto the Lord), and pretty much anything that is God's truth about being a faithful steward of what he has given us, particularly as it relates to keeping an orderly home (as opposed to being lazy - are you sensing my theme yet?). I would most definitely welcome any suggestions on where to look.
My baby and Dux, one of her favorites, and a special gift from Uncle Sam (the man, not the government). She has been so much fun this weekend.
So I'm thinking about doing something radical (for me) and shutting the old Facebook down for a bit. If I want to connect with someone, I am going to pick up the phone, and I am going to invite everyone else to do the same. I've always wanted to do a social experiment, and I think this will be fun (and challenging). So yeah. That should be coming down the pike here in just a few days.
I love connecting, and I want to do it the best way it can be done. For all of its wonderfulness, electronic communication also poses some of the greatest challenges to the communication model by layering filter upon filter and subsequently removing several key tools for interpreting a given message. To be clear, though, I am not boycotting Facebook or Myspace or Twitter or e-mail. Just going to step back a bit and rethink how and why I use it.
In the meantime, I am on the hunt for scripture verses that address industriousness vs. laziness, doing good work (as unto the Lord), and pretty much anything that is God's truth about being a faithful steward of what he has given us, particularly as it relates to keeping an orderly home (as opposed to being lazy - are you sensing my theme yet?). I would most definitely welcome any suggestions on where to look.
My baby and Dux, one of her favorites, and a special gift from Uncle Sam (the man, not the government). She has been so much fun this weekend.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Crow's Feet
People go bald. They turn gray, gain weight, get sick, get skinny, get married, have babies, grow up.
I was looking through some pictures tonight on Facebook (I am totally a Nosey Nancy), and I was struck by what aging does to us. This is not the first time I have felt this way while looking at friends' pictures on Facebook. I am quite sure that lots of other folks have felt the same way looking at my pictures.
Our bodies change, our lives change. In most cases, does who we are change? I don't think so. (See: why I have not married the dudes I have not married.) I think things about us change. I think that's inevitable as we grow, we hurt, we risk, we lose, we win, we love...but I think that at the core, we typically remain the same. I'm struggling to find an analogy to more accurately illustrate what I'm getting at here, and I'm coming up empty-handed. I'm not sure there is one. Hm. Maybe chemistry. Chemical changes vs. physical changes. A physical change is an alteration to a substance's external properties, while a chemical change forms a completely new substance. I think who we are - that's our chemical makeup. What we look like, where we live, where we work, that's our physical makeup. Maybe what I'm suggesting is that physical changes can occur in spades and never truly alter our chemical makeup. That's not always true, not for every person. For the sake of this blog, let's pretend that it is.
A woman that I am privileged to know told me recently that she has learned the secret of surviving criticism and opposition. She told me that she knows that nothing anyone says will ever change who she is. She said it with such conviction that, even though I have heard some form of that sentiment over and over again, I really stopped to think about it. And I've been thinking about it ever since then. It makes me feel free. Giddy, almost. I want to be that convinced of who I am and my worth as a beloved child of God, that I can let all the other words just fly around overhead. My friend literally used that metaphor. She said, "Those words, they're just flying around, just words up in the air, that's all." I'm telling you, this woman, she is a book waiting to happen.
I don't really have much beyond that. Just the thought that I can be okay with who I am. You can be okay with who you are. No matter where I live, or where you live, or where either of us works or whom either of us has or hasn't married. No one can threaten who I really am, or who you really are. I'm okay, you're okay. We're all okay.
I was looking through some pictures tonight on Facebook (I am totally a Nosey Nancy), and I was struck by what aging does to us. This is not the first time I have felt this way while looking at friends' pictures on Facebook. I am quite sure that lots of other folks have felt the same way looking at my pictures.
Our bodies change, our lives change. In most cases, does who we are change? I don't think so. (See: why I have not married the dudes I have not married.) I think things about us change. I think that's inevitable as we grow, we hurt, we risk, we lose, we win, we love...but I think that at the core, we typically remain the same. I'm struggling to find an analogy to more accurately illustrate what I'm getting at here, and I'm coming up empty-handed. I'm not sure there is one. Hm. Maybe chemistry. Chemical changes vs. physical changes. A physical change is an alteration to a substance's external properties, while a chemical change forms a completely new substance. I think who we are - that's our chemical makeup. What we look like, where we live, where we work, that's our physical makeup. Maybe what I'm suggesting is that physical changes can occur in spades and never truly alter our chemical makeup. That's not always true, not for every person. For the sake of this blog, let's pretend that it is.
A woman that I am privileged to know told me recently that she has learned the secret of surviving criticism and opposition. She told me that she knows that nothing anyone says will ever change who she is. She said it with such conviction that, even though I have heard some form of that sentiment over and over again, I really stopped to think about it. And I've been thinking about it ever since then. It makes me feel free. Giddy, almost. I want to be that convinced of who I am and my worth as a beloved child of God, that I can let all the other words just fly around overhead. My friend literally used that metaphor. She said, "Those words, they're just flying around, just words up in the air, that's all." I'm telling you, this woman, she is a book waiting to happen.
I don't really have much beyond that. Just the thought that I can be okay with who I am. You can be okay with who you are. No matter where I live, or where you live, or where either of us works or whom either of us has or hasn't married. No one can threaten who I really am, or who you really are. I'm okay, you're okay. We're all okay.
Friday, May 22, 2009
What are you waiting for??
Three weeks ago, I was confronted with the reality that our previously scheduled move-out date of December 31 of this year was being moved up to June 30. In a very roundabout but very gracious way, the Lord had prepared me for this bit of news and had vanquished fear from my heart over hearing what I somehow knew I was going to hear. Just the same, I needed to cry, and I thought Amy's house would be a good place to do that. So I drove out there. We had a nice visit - I always feel so safe at Amy's house. After some talking and sighing and trying to get Olivia to be okay with petting Layla, the babe and I headed back home. As we were driving away, I began to pray for our situation. With no small amount of boldness, I asked for a house of our own. And by "own", I mean, a mortgage instead of a rent check. The thought of moving into an apartment after living in this huge wonderful house just made me sad, mostly for Olivia.
I prayed that God would perform the impossible and allow me to buy a house, a place where Olivia could have a yard to play in, where it could be just me and her, where we could put down some roots and really dig in. I asked for a home where we could really and truly settle in. I thought of the verse in Hebrews that says: "anyone who comes to Him must believe that He exists and that He rewards those who earnestly seek Him." So I grabbed hold of those two truths and declared them outright. And then I cried some more.
I struggled over the next couple of days with the thought that maybe the best thing for us would be to move into an apartment. It was a very difficult thought, but I prayed earnestly for the willingness to obey if that was the case. I love the "willing to be made willing" clause.
I had found a few ADFA programs online that offer first-time homebuyers a chance to get into a house without an enormous down payment, and I had pursued that route to what I thought was no avail. Several folks I had spoken with in lending had complained about these programs and basically refused to work with them.
Then my precious baby fell and broke her arm and had to have surgery. So I was a little preoccupied, and the stress of that situation had me thinking - you know, an apartment would be an easy place to get into, move into and be in. Maybe I should just do that...no hassle of trying to get a mortgage, trying to find a house, etc. I'll just do that.
Through a curious turn of events, a friend of mine ended up giving me the number of a loan officer who works with the ADFA programs often, and she thought she might be of help to me. I had really reconciled myself to getting a rental, but I thought I would make this one last phone call and then be done with my dream of buying a house.
It's two weeks later, and I am scheduled to close on my new house June 26.
My friend Samuel has probably been one of my biggest cheerleaders through this process. He has expressed unwavering faith that I would be able to do this, even before I knew it was the remotest possibility. So when I sent him a text telling him my offer had been accepted, he told me to give God praise for what He has done. And my first thought was, "But we haven't closed yet. I don't have the keys. My stuff is not in that house and I have not filled out a change of address form."
Yes, the facts of buying a home state that the home is not yours until you take possession, and you do not take possession until after closing. But the facts of my situation state that I prayed for a house and I am getting one. So I will praise Him because He is answering me. I definitely don't deserve this amazing brand new house with a wraparound porch, and it is above and beyond what I was even asking for to begin with! I wish I had the boldness in praising Him that I found in asking for the house. Something in me tends to think that I should just lay low and be real quiet - maybe if I don't rock the boat, everything will go through at closing, and then I can give my thanks. But where is the faith in that response? It is covered up by fear, and to that fear I say, you have got to go. The Lord has heard my prayer, and He has answered me.
Some years ago, I was returning to the Lord after a long period of rebellion, and He used Psalm 107 to illustrate His goodness and love. At the beginning of this whole process, I went to Psalm 107, really just for comfort, you know, for a familiar spot in the Word to help shore up my faith a little bit. This is what the first part of the Psalm says:
1 Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good;
his love endures forever.
2 Let the redeemed of the LORD say this—
those he redeemed from the hand of the foe,
3 those he gathered from the lands,
from east and west, from north and south.
4 Some wandered in desert wastelands,
finding no way to a city where they could settle.
5 They were hungry and thirsty,
and their lives ebbed away.
6 Then they cried out to the LORD in their trouble,
and he delivered them from their distress.
7 He led them by a straight way
to a city where they could settle.
8 Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love
and his wonderful deeds for men.
He is so good to us.
Pictures of my new home will be posted soon. :)
I prayed that God would perform the impossible and allow me to buy a house, a place where Olivia could have a yard to play in, where it could be just me and her, where we could put down some roots and really dig in. I asked for a home where we could really and truly settle in. I thought of the verse in Hebrews that says: "anyone who comes to Him must believe that He exists and that He rewards those who earnestly seek Him." So I grabbed hold of those two truths and declared them outright. And then I cried some more.
I struggled over the next couple of days with the thought that maybe the best thing for us would be to move into an apartment. It was a very difficult thought, but I prayed earnestly for the willingness to obey if that was the case. I love the "willing to be made willing" clause.
I had found a few ADFA programs online that offer first-time homebuyers a chance to get into a house without an enormous down payment, and I had pursued that route to what I thought was no avail. Several folks I had spoken with in lending had complained about these programs and basically refused to work with them.
Then my precious baby fell and broke her arm and had to have surgery. So I was a little preoccupied, and the stress of that situation had me thinking - you know, an apartment would be an easy place to get into, move into and be in. Maybe I should just do that...no hassle of trying to get a mortgage, trying to find a house, etc. I'll just do that.
Through a curious turn of events, a friend of mine ended up giving me the number of a loan officer who works with the ADFA programs often, and she thought she might be of help to me. I had really reconciled myself to getting a rental, but I thought I would make this one last phone call and then be done with my dream of buying a house.
It's two weeks later, and I am scheduled to close on my new house June 26.
My friend Samuel has probably been one of my biggest cheerleaders through this process. He has expressed unwavering faith that I would be able to do this, even before I knew it was the remotest possibility. So when I sent him a text telling him my offer had been accepted, he told me to give God praise for what He has done. And my first thought was, "But we haven't closed yet. I don't have the keys. My stuff is not in that house and I have not filled out a change of address form."
Yes, the facts of buying a home state that the home is not yours until you take possession, and you do not take possession until after closing. But the facts of my situation state that I prayed for a house and I am getting one. So I will praise Him because He is answering me. I definitely don't deserve this amazing brand new house with a wraparound porch, and it is above and beyond what I was even asking for to begin with! I wish I had the boldness in praising Him that I found in asking for the house. Something in me tends to think that I should just lay low and be real quiet - maybe if I don't rock the boat, everything will go through at closing, and then I can give my thanks. But where is the faith in that response? It is covered up by fear, and to that fear I say, you have got to go. The Lord has heard my prayer, and He has answered me.
Some years ago, I was returning to the Lord after a long period of rebellion, and He used Psalm 107 to illustrate His goodness and love. At the beginning of this whole process, I went to Psalm 107, really just for comfort, you know, for a familiar spot in the Word to help shore up my faith a little bit. This is what the first part of the Psalm says:
1 Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good;
his love endures forever.
2 Let the redeemed of the LORD say this—
those he redeemed from the hand of the foe,
3 those he gathered from the lands,
from east and west, from north and south.
4 Some wandered in desert wastelands,
finding no way to a city where they could settle.
5 They were hungry and thirsty,
and their lives ebbed away.
6 Then they cried out to the LORD in their trouble,
and he delivered them from their distress.
7 He led them by a straight way
to a city where they could settle.
8 Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love
and his wonderful deeds for men.
He is so good to us.
Pictures of my new home will be posted soon. :)
Friday, May 15, 2009
All the Federales say...
Because I promised it, and because there was at least one person long suffering enough to read my previous post about how Lefty came to be mine, I thought I should tell you the story of Poncho and Lefty.
My first full day in the Highlander, I thought, you know, I need to name this thing. Then, three - count them, three - separate times by the end of that day, I had heard "Poncho and Lefty" on the radio. So random. Or was it?
See, Rachel had just bought a Honda CR-V. So I had a brilliant thought. That we would name our trucks Poncho and Lefty and thus form our very own car clique. Holly and Sharla have a car clique, too, but the story of their car clique involves grand theft auto and truancy.
Then we had to decide who would be Poncho and who would be Lefty. We decided mine would be Lefty, since Olivia favors her left hand (and my alignment favors the left), and Rachel picked Poncho, since it is obviously a much cooler name than Lefty.
So here they are, folks. Poncho and Lefty. Lefty is clearly the one on the left, and there's Poncho, hanging out beside her.
The desert's quiet and Cleveland's cold,
And so the story ends we're told
Poncho needs your prayers it's true, but save a few for Lefty too
He only did what he had to do, and now he's growing old
All the Federales say they could have had him any day
They only let him slip away out of kindness, I suppose.
My first full day in the Highlander, I thought, you know, I need to name this thing. Then, three - count them, three - separate times by the end of that day, I had heard "Poncho and Lefty" on the radio. So random. Or was it?
See, Rachel had just bought a Honda CR-V. So I had a brilliant thought. That we would name our trucks Poncho and Lefty and thus form our very own car clique. Holly and Sharla have a car clique, too, but the story of their car clique involves grand theft auto and truancy.
Then we had to decide who would be Poncho and who would be Lefty. We decided mine would be Lefty, since Olivia favors her left hand (and my alignment favors the left), and Rachel picked Poncho, since it is obviously a much cooler name than Lefty.
So here they are, folks. Poncho and Lefty. Lefty is clearly the one on the left, and there's Poncho, hanging out beside her.
The desert's quiet and Cleveland's cold,
And so the story ends we're told
Poncho needs your prayers it's true, but save a few for Lefty too
He only did what he had to do, and now he's growing old
All the Federales say they could have had him any day
They only let him slip away out of kindness, I suppose.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Livi Lou
My darling, my daughter. We have had a trying couple of weeks. But she is on the mend. And I am on the mend. And right now, that is good enough for me.
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