a [re]focused life

If you’ve ever moved in your life, or lived in more than one place, then maybe you’ll understand my dilemma.  I’ve recently begun to realize that the ever elusive “home” I’ve been searching for all these years cannot be found in one specific place.  [Not here on earth, anyway.]  They say home is where your heart is, and for me, my heart is always in several different places at once.  A large part of my heart still calls Utah home.  Even though I only spent three years and some odd weeks there.  Mathematically, I suppose, it doesn’t make sense.  But then again, my parents still live out there.  My brother and sister do as well.  But the thing that feels most at home when I’m home?  The food.  And when I’m feeling homesick, what do I crave the most?  The food.

I find such comfort in food.  Probably too much.  Eating makes me happy.  [see: why I gained 30 pounds after getting married]  In fact, one of the things I looked forward to the most about being a “grown up” was the fact that I’d be able to shop for myself and buy whatever I wanted at the grocery store.  And while such feelings could have very well landed me smack dab in the middle of an eating disorder, I’ve been fortunate not to walk that road.  [unless you want to call my love for food a disorder in itself, which, it probably is]

The worst part is, the foods I crave, they aren’t even home cooked.  They aren’t special dishes my mom would prepare after slaving over a hot stove all day.  No.  The foods I miss?  The ones that take me “home”?  Sonic.  Cafe Rio.  Pizza Factory.  And the one I’ve been craving most of all… Dairy Queen.  Interestingly, DQ is based out of Minnesota, so you would think we’d have more DQs in Ohio than in Utah.  I did grow up with a DQ nearby, in the town I now live, in fact, and my family could be found there often in the summers.  But our Dairy Queen was/is not a “real” Dairy Queen.  It only has ice cream [and hotdogs and hamburgers, but they weren't anything great or even good.]  It wasn’t until I lived in St. George that I tasted the glorious wonder that is The Chicken Strip Basket.  With garlic toast and gravy, and sometimes honey mustard sauce.  And fry sauce!!!!! I’m sorry, I know I talk about fry sauce a lot, but ohhhhhh do I miss it.

While I know I won’t find any fry sauce, I have been searching the area for a REAL DQ.  One where I can order my chicken strip basket.  I think I have found one 25 miles away.  And if you think I am crazy for driving 50 miles round trip for chicken strips, well, you may be right.  Or maybe you understand.  All I know is it has been over a year since I’ve enjoyed my DQ chicken strip basket, and tonight, I intend to change that.  After all, it’s Friday.  It’s the WEEKEND.  It’s payday.  And I live in the U.S.A.  All of these things = freedom to eat my chicken strip basket.  Yes, I’m spoiled.  But don’t you think I won’t be enjoying. every. second.  I know I’ve got it good, but at least I know I’ve got it good, if you know what I mean.

P.S. Dairy Queen has a special edition THIN MINT blizzard this month.  Umm, yes, please!

P.P.S. Speaking of basket-y type meals that I love, there is one thing around here that has helped assuage my chicken strip basket grief, and that is: the BLTA (bacon lettuce tomato and avocado… on a butter croissant, no less!!) at Red Robin.  I love love love that meal.  Definitely recommend.

P.P.P.S. Can you tell I haven’t eaten breakfast yet this morning?

Hi. I know, it’s been a while… I don’t write, I don’t call, I just breeze in and out of here on a whim. To quote Stephanie Tanner: How rude!

I, like most of you, have been busy. Busy working, busy with friends, busy with the everyday tasks of life. Almost every single day I have to stop and remind myself to step back and enjoy the day, because these blessed summer days are melting away like ice in a sweaty glass, and I’ve been getting a little sad that Fall and Winter seem to be Right Around The Corner. So sad, in fact, that I have been forgetting to enjoy the time I have NOW.  I can be so silly sometimes. I have a few big and fun things coming up soon, but as each of these dates approaches and then disappears I am more reminded that this summer has gone WAY too fast.

Two weeks from now we’ll be visiting with my sister, my brother and his wife, and my dad in good ol’ Salt Lake City. I haven’t stepped foot in Utah since May of last year, so it is time. We’re not going to be spending any time in St. George, which I am kind of sad about, but also a little relieved. I just don’t think I could handle being there right now, even though I miss my STG friends very much.

A week and a half after I get back from Utah, I’m heading out to Illinois for a few days to meet up with Kimberly and Josh [happy 3rd anniversary to those guys, by the way], and hopefully Jess! I’m a little nervous, even though Kimberly and I have “known” each other online for about 4 years now, but I know my fears are mostly unfounded. I just think it will be kind of a shock to be AT her house and with her and actually spending time in person, instead of connected via the internet, getting glimpses of her life through the computer screen. More than nervous though, I am excited, this trip has been a looong time coming, and I already know it will be a great time!

Two weeks after that, Jeremy and I are going to be in Bristol, Tennessee at the Bristol night race [NASCAR], and I am very excited about that.  Our Martinsville days seem to be over for the foreseeable future, so I will be enjoying this trip to Bristol even more.  I guess if it is going to be our last race for a while, there is no better place to end with than Bristol.

A few weeks after that, we will be welcoming our nephew into the world. I don’t think I even have to explain here how much we are looking forward to this event.  I. Can’t. Wait.

I’m torn, because as much as I am looking forward to all of these wonderful and fun things, I am desperately hanging on to these days of sun [although we've had such a mild, rainy summer, I've barely SEEN the sun] and all the green grass and the songbirds singing me awake in the morning.  I’m just taking each day as it comes, and trying to make the most of each one.  I hope you all are doing the same.

I’ll try not to be such a stranger, I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately and it’s been the internal kind of stuff and not so much the “write it all on my very public blog” kind of stuff. But all in all I’m good, feeling very blessed, enjoying time with friends and desperately missing a few others.

This too shall pass… and you know, I’m not real sure if I should be happy or sad about that.

Very cool video… plus a biology lesson. Not a bad way to start your Friday!

I kind of thought for my 100th post I’d have some amazing, well-thought and well-versed something-or-other to share here, but… well… yeah, I don’t. Which shouldn’t surprise any of you who have been reading for these 100 posts, because really… it’s been pretty random around here.

I’ve broken every “how to maintain a successful blog” rule [i.e. post regularly, be interesting, write about specific topics on which you are knowledgeable, give away flashy prizes]… but I guess it also won’t surprise you that I’m not that worried about how many hits I get here each day. This whole… bloggy thing, it’s kind of just for me, but at the same time, I’d hate to think I’m putting my dear readers to sleep every time they find me in their feed reader.

I do often think of things to write about, but for some reason most of those thoughts get lost [or stuck] in my head and at the end of the day I just don’t have the time or energy to eek anything out into this vast white space that is the blog. A few things I have been inspired to write about: the importance of Christian fellowship, end times [Are we there yet??], how much I hate politics, the random stray dog that keeps leaving giant piles in our yard overnight, our continuing search for the perfect VW campmobile, my husband’s sudden baby-crazyness, how refreshing it is to have a social life again, the amazingness that was the Superchic[k] + Newsboys concert, my quest for the perfect small-hands-friendly-yet-adequate-for-self-defense pistol [9mm or .40, semi-automatic or revolver, Glock, S&W or Taurus] and various social/political/religious topics a.k.a the things that I talk about with my dad for 2 hours on the phone every weekend, the things which I have hesitated writing about on here because I really don’t want to become THAT blog, and really, the thought of writing it here sort of makes my stomach crawl up into my throat. I think I’d rather cook my foot in a George Foreman grill.

::RANDOM OFFICE QUOTE TIME::
Michael Scott: I enjoy having breakfast in bed. I like waking up to the smell of bacon, sue me. And since I don’t have a butler, I have to do it myself. So, most nights before I go to bed, I will lay six strips of bacon out on my George Foreman grill. Then I go to sleep. When I wake up, I plug in the grill. I go back to sleep again. Then I wake up to the smell of crackling bacon. It is delicious, it’s good for me, it’s the perfect way to start the day.

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnd… there goes the runaway engine that is my train of thought. Hopefully one of these days I’ll get around to writing some cohesive thoughts on here. At least I made myself a little list just now of things to think/write about. All in all, not a bad 100th post. I mean, I covered the deliciousness that is bacon/got in some much needed Michael Scott material… I couldn’t really top that if I tried.

Thanks for reading and have a wonderful Monday!

Okay, so I’ve been MIA for a while. It’s been a crazy week. Thank you for your thoughts and prayers for my friend Emily, I know they are appreciated very much! As of the latest update she is stable, still contracting now and then but not progressing. She’s about halfway through the 28th week now, which is much better than 27, and next week will be even better yet! She may even get to go home today on strict bedrest, not sure about that, but I’ll let you know.

I’ve been crazy busy with work, but tonight, TONIGHT I get to go to a concert with my lovely friend and see/hear the lovely ladies of Superchic[k]:

Annnnd, The Newsboys:

Hee! That song is from 1997, but man those were good times. For me, anyway. And I definitely can’t forget their classics like “Breakfast” and “Shine” and a whole host of others. I’ve actually never seen Newsboys in concert so this will be a fun time for sure.

And as for Superchic[k], their music has gotten me through some tough times in the past few years, so… yeah. I am so so so excited! I haven’t tried going to a show since April and the disaster that was the trip up to Michigan to see Lifehouse [getting caught in the blizzard in Michigan]… yuck… but I have faith that this is going to be much, much, MUCH better!

And then tomorrow it is back to work, but for tonight…. work will be the last thing on my mind!

Hey guys, hitting you up with another prayer request.

Please pray for my friend Emily. She is currently 27/28 weeks along and has been contracting for the past several days. When she first went into the hospital, they gave her medicine to stop the contractions and she had a reaction to it, and lost consciousness. They got her stabilized and switched her meds around, were satisfied enough to send her home… but then this morning she was readmitted because basically every time she moves she is contracting again. They were apparently concerned with an ultrasound done this morning, and she is currently on strict bedrest, hoping to buy a little more time and keep the baby in there.

Being born this early is frightening, but yet if the baby is having trouble in utero, getting her out is important as well. Such a hard thing to pray for. Please pray for Emily’s health and safety as well as that of the little girl she is carrying. We would love to see God heal whatever is going on, stop these contractions NOW, and have her finish out this pregnancy normally.

*Monday is done and over with

*My latest big huge project for work is complete as of 9 a.m. and now I can relaaaaax

*I have a 15 dollar iTunes card just begging to be used

*I’m currently drinking a tall glass of Rich Chocolate Ovaltine.  Mmmmm.

I can already tell it is going to be THAT kind of week.  Grr.

I had to fax some information yesterday to my bank, in order to help clear up the dispute I have on file RE: Skybus Airlines.  [The trip to Philadelphia I booked for my grandma and I, which incidentally was supposed to take place tomorrow.]  Jeremy kept telling me he could do it from work, but I just feel wrong about using the hospital fax machine to do personal faxes, even though he assures me “everyone does it,” and I know everyone does, because I used to work there and I know how it is.  Still, it doesn’t make it right and for some reason I had to be all ethical about it.

So I head to the local Kinkos, which was totally dead, as it always is during the summer with the students gone.  Yet they had four employees working talking and laughing loudly amongst themselves who did not even do so much as to make eye contact with me when I walked in.  Thankfully, faxing is pretty straightforward so I didn’t need anyone to hold my hand.  Or so I thought.

I put my four pages in, dialed the number, and hit send.  Interestingly, when it was dialing, the number came up as #127 on the fax machine, so Kinkos must have the bank programmed in there for some reason.  Payrolll?  I don’t know.  I didn’t really think anything of it.  Also, there was a credit card machine to the right of the fax machine… it had Mastercard and Visa symbols on it.  I thought it was there for my convenience… if I wanted to pay using my credit/debit card, which I didn’t.  Beeeeeeeeeep, the fax went through, successfully.  I grabbed my confirmation sheet and other papers and walked up to the counter to pay.  Just like I did three years ago, the last time I needed to fax something.  I stood at the counter for a few minutes, waiting for one of the employees to do their job, when finally a lady begrudgingly walked over and I handed her my fax cover sheet.  [The Kinkos one, which supposedly they do not charge you for.]

Me:  I need to pay for a fax.

Her:  What?

Me:  I just sent a fax, I need to pay for it.

Her:  WHAT?  You already sent this?

Me:  [confused] Yes?

Her:  No, that’s impossible!

Me:  ???

Her:  You didn’t use a card for this?

Me:  No, I was going to pay in cash… [Thus why I'm standing at the cash register, duh.]

Her:  [Grabs the papers very forcefully from my hands and storms around to my side of the counter] How did you do this?!

Me:  [Walking to the fax machine] I… put the papers in the fax machine… and dialed the number?

Her:  NO!  No you didn’t.

Me:  Yes… I did.

Her:  You MUST use a card to send faxes.  You needed to get a card.  It doesn’t work any other way.  YOU HAVE TO USE A CARD!!  [She tapped the card machine for emphasis.]

Me:  Oh.  Sorry.  I just thought that was there in case I wanted to pay with my credit card.

Her:  No.  No, no, no.  I do not know how this happened.

Me:  Well, it did.  The fax went through.

Her:  [storming back up to the counter]  Fine.  Whatever.  I’m going to blame this on you because I don’t know how you did that.  [Looking at me all accusing-like, as if I am some sort of Ninja Fax Machine Hacker] That will be $6.55.

Six dollars and fifty-five cents to send four [technically 3] pages to Columbus?  I find that hard to believe, but whatever.  I was so over dealing with this lady, so I just forked over the money and left.  That is the LAST TIME I will ever step foot in that place.  I so wanted to be like, “Bitch!” and wave my finger all up in her face before I left, because she was just that nasty and condescending and kept glaring at me like I was some sort of criminal.  But, I’m just not that gutsy.  So I blog about it instead.  I just couldn’t believe how completely she lost it over this stupid fax.  She was very shaken by it.  She probably had to huff some serious White-Out as soon as I left.

In retrospect, if there is some sort of “card system” that they use for faxing, my fax must have gone through because the number was already pre-programmed into their machine.  I thought of this while she was flipping out, but decided to just watch her have a coronary instead of attempting to explain, because hey, I don’t look at TV anymore and this was pretty entertaining.

Being hungry is awful.  Now, I’ve never gone more than a day or so without food, but I sure have experienced some hunger pains in my life.  Those kind that rumble your whole belly and all you can think about is food, food, food.  Unfortunately, there are many who go to bed every night with hunger so far beyond what I have experienced or can even imagine, and just thinking about it makes my eyes fill with tears.  I tend to be someone who is very deeply affected by human suffering and then I run in about 15 different directions thinking “What can I do? What can I do? What can I do?”  Then I trip over my feet and do nothing.  I’m very Henney-Penney-and-the-sky-is-falling and it is not conducive to actual needs being met.

Well, last weekend I was presented with an actual person who had an actual need.  A husband and wife, to be more precise.  It was Saturday morning and my friend and I had just gotten to the hands-on museum, a little after 10 a.m.  It had just opened and we were the only vehicle in the downtown parking lot.  Just as we were getting the kids unloaded, this man and woman approached us, and honestly, the first thing I thought was, “Uh oh…” but that was also because the first thing out of the man’s mouth was, “Ooh, you’ve got a nice camera.”  Now, YES, I realize how awful it was of me to equate that with “I may possibly be interested in stealing from you”… but at the time, it is what flashed through my mind.  Looking back, maybe he is interested in photography.  Maybe at one time he had a camera that he loved.  And now, he doesn’t.  Because he is homeless.  And I am, apparently, an ass.

My friend’s mom took the two girls inside and my friend and I were outside with her young son and the man formally introduced himself and his wife.  I shook their hands and he explained that they were homeless and traveling from Chicago.  He noticed the cross around my neck and asked me if I believed in God, and if I believed that God sometimes puts people in the right place just to help others.  I said yes.  The man told me that he and his wife would appreciate any help we could give them.  I instantly thought of the cooler that I had packed for our trip, filled with cold meat and condiments, water, and some Chips Ahoy cookies.  I told them I had some food I could give them, and he and his wife said, “That would be great.”  They followed us around to the other side of the Suburban and it was then that I got nervous again.  I started thinking about how the vehicle blocked us from anyone inside the building and once again realized we were in an open, empty parking lot.  I quickly got the food around and put it in a bag.  I gave them enough bread for two sandwiches, what was left of my turkey cold cuts, my friend Hope fetched two bottles of our water for them, and I gave them two packages of Chips Ahoy 100-calorie packs.  The woman took the food, said “thank you” and they left.  Seriously, they disappeared within 20 seconds.  No hanging around or bugging us, and they did not even ask for money.

As they walked away, and at numerous times throughout the past week, I have felt so… humbled and also so very disappointed in myself.  I wanted to call after them, “Wait!  That’s not all!” I could have done more.  So much more.  I had a whole other pack of ham in that cooler.  More cookies.  A bag of chips.  A half loaf of bread.  Juice.  Heck, I could/should have just given them the whole cooler.  Wouldn’t that have been a more demonstrative act of LOVE?  Of selflessness?  Of a Christ-like heart?  My wallet was filled with 20s.   Surely I could have spared one or two, or as far as that goes, EVERYTHING and simply driven to the nearest ATM and filled up once again.

I want for nothing.  [Well, I WANT for lots of stuff, selfishly, but I NEED nothing.] My needs are met, above and beyond my greatest childhood dreams, quite honestly.  I am blessed.  So blessed.  And do you want to know what hurts me the most?  I didn’t give them cheese for the sandwiches.  I forgot the cheese.  So they ate plain bread and meat sandwiches, and later, I ate like a king….

I always fret for things I wish I could do… wish I could help… and then I am given an opportunity to help and I only help a tiny bit.  I only do what is “convenient”.  I save the best stuff for myself.  I let myself worry about ulterior motives and let fears get the best of me.  I worried that my friend would think I was a looney toon for giving away ALL of the food I brought for our trip.  [Even though I know she would have been fine with it.] I worried that I was possibly putting her young son in danger by even speaking to these people. But there is no time to discuss these things when put on the spot.  It’s “act now, think later,” and that’s what I did.  For the better or worse of it, that is what I did.

I am so sorry.  And as I was telling my dad earlier tonight, that event will stick in my head and heart for a long, long time.  I pray that when I get another chance, I will show true servanthood and that God will use me to be a great blessing.  It’s not my food.  It’s not my money.  It’s His.  Lord, please forgive my fearful, selfish nature, and let this be a great lesson to me.  I have so much yet to learn.

**You may not want to read this if you are eating or about to eat**

Sometimes I reallllllly get convicted about what a bad wife I am.  Last night would be one of those nights.  I woke up in the middle of the night to the sounds of Jeremy… well, getting sick.  It was one of the worst sounds I’ve ever heard.  He doesn’t get sick often, or pretty much ever.  In the 7+ years I’ve known him, this was definitely a first.

I rolled out of bed and timidly approached the bathroom and peeked in.  I didn’t actually go in, because I don’t deal well with that stuff and I would probably be joining him in the sick if I was near it… but I said something like, “Oh, no….. are you okay?”  Dumb question.  Also, “Is this from coughing?”  A second dumb question, but sometimes he starts coughing in the middle of the night [allergies?] and it makes him gag… but this OBVIOUSLY was something more than that.  Then I said, “Is there anything I can do?”  But he apparently didn’t hear any of those questions and I turned around and went back to bed.  He can be a real “Hands off” type person if he’s ill/frustrated/upset and I figured he was just ignoring me.

I sat in bed, cringing, feeling so bad that he was feeling so bad… and that I was unable to help him.  Or was I unwilling to help him?  I definitely would have, if he asked.  He’s always been so good when I’ve been sick, right there in the midst of the gross stuff… inches away while I got sick and then even cleaned up after me.  Seriously…. he takes such good care of me.  And then there is me.  Hiding in the bedroom, wondering what would have made him sick and hoping I don’t “catch it”.  Instantly my stomach starts turning and I pretty much convince myself I am sick as well.

About 10 minutes later he comes back to bed.  We talked for a little while, trying to figure out if it was something he ate or what, because he felt a lot better.  This morning he didn’t know if he should go to work or not, because he still felt a little gross, but I made him some toast and he was even more convinced it was some type of food poisoning.  I told him to stay home anyway, because he looked a little green, but off he went.  It’s his full/on-call weekend starting tonight, and he knew if he didn’t go in today, someone else would probably have to take his call tonight.

He’s never missed a day of work or been late since he was first hired in December 2001.  Sure, he’s had colds and days where he really didn’t want to work, but he always goes in.  Which makes me respect him so much, because I’m the biggest baby about being sick and would take any chance to stay home.  But he takes that whole “provider” role seriously.  [And knows that if he gets perfect attendance he gets 2 extra personal days a year.]

So here I am at home, hoping he is feeling better and wishing I wasn’t so useless when it comes to stuff like this.  Sometimes I really do wonder just what, exactly, I contribute to this relationship.  I’ve never had to mow the lawn and very rarely do I ever have to pay a bill.  He does the majority of our cooking.  Because he enjoys it, but still.  He helps with laundry.  He does everything.  And I keep thinking, “But I’m good at….” and I keep coming up blank.  Ugh.

I hope you all had a great holiday weekend. We sure did. Jeremy got to attend his first Indy 500, I got to experience the Fort Wayne Children’s Zoo and Science Central hands-on museum with some of my favorite people, and we all capped it off with a brunch church picnic at the park on Monday. I think it is safe to say a good time was had by all.

Now, on to the title and topic of this post. I seem to have caught Westy fever! Not sure what I am referring to? Well, if I say Volkswagen Bus, does that help conjure up an image for you? This is a good example. So is this. And who doesn’t love the front end of this split window, beautiful 1967 model? I even happen to like some of the newer non-vintage models, like this 1991 Vanagon. That particular vehicle, while a campmobile, is only a “weekender”, meaning there is no stove or fridge, and much less storage space, but is still a pop top and offers lots of room for passengers/sleeping. I recently found a listing for an ‘87 Vanagon all fixed up and tricked out listed for $87,000… yikes.

Anyway… my budget is significantly less than many of those listings, and my husband is a little annoyed with me because when I get interested/excited about something, I tend to get tunnel vision. I’ve been on a mission in the past year or so to find us a nice pop-up camper, but we don’t really have a vehicle capable of towing anymore. Jeremy’s Grand Prix could probably tow a small one, but he isn’t keen on fitting his car with a hitch. Then last week I got to look around on the inside of my friend’s bus (green, even!), and then *I* turned green. With envy. Because HELLO, how cool is that?! You can camp IN your bus. Annnnnnd, they get around 20 mpg, some more, some a little less. MUCH better than your average “RV”. Plus, how can anyone look at a cute little VW bus coming down the road and not smile? They are so stinkin’ cute.

My husband is quite handy and knows a thing or two about cars and engines, so that’s definitely a plus. For the past three days I have been bugging him incessantly with eBay and classified listings. “Ooh, what about this one?!” He is much more sensible/fiscally minded than I am though, and while I would have no problem taking money out of our savings and buying a cute little bus next week, he has other ideas. Like patience, and waiting, and all that junk. Blah. Me, all I can think about is CAMPING!! I have missed it so much and it doesn’t help that it is camping season right now.

Jeremy is probably rolling his eyes right now. But really. I would happily sell my engagement ring, my camera, and would be perfectly satisfied with leaving the fireplace room unfurnished if we could get a bus. I could always get a different camera later. But these buses… they won’t be around forever. Especially not in decent shape/working order. Time is of the essence, people! But I guess I can wait…

It’s what I do best worst.

P.S. You can’t really blame me… this Volkswagen love… it’s GENETIC.

If you pray, please lift up the Chapman family today as they deal with the tragic loss of their 5-year-old daughter (and littlest sister), Maria Sue.

This story started hitting my blog reader at about 10 p.m. last night, seemingly before it had been picked up by the major news networks, but not before some sick individual felt it necessary to edit Chapman’s Wiki page (click to enlarge):

Seconds after I took that screen capture, the statement was removed.  But it made me wonder why anyone would take the time to post something so hurtful.  It always boggles my mind to see so much hate, directed at those we do not know, those who have never wronged us.  I suppose this is so prevalent on the internet because cowards can hide behind their screens and anonymously publish vicious things, but it bothers me just the same.  

I especially want to lift up the brother who was driving the vehicle.  So far it has not been confirmed if the driver was Caleb or Will Franklin, and honestly, I hope that information is never released, although I am sure in time the details will come out.  I just have such a heavy heart for that young man right now.  I don’t know either of them, obviously, but Caleb was featured in a little video that Sanctus posted on their Sanctus Reality site, recorded during the Live in This Moment tour last fall.  The first time I watched it, I remember thinking, “Wow, what a humble kid.”  He just seems to have a very sweet spirit.  At the time, I assumed he was one of Bethany Dillon’s band members, perhaps a brother of hers.  It wasn’t until last night that I remembered that video and started to put two and two together.  

In any event, who the driver was is rather irrelevant, except to say that we should be covering him [and the whole family] in prayer.  Such a devastating loss, on what I am sure was just a “typical” Wednesday afternoon around their house.  Such an earth shattering reality to wake up to this morning.  I pray they are somehow comforted by the thousands of prayers being sent up on their behalf, and I hope the media leaves them alone to grieve as a family in peace. 

When we last spoke [okay, so I am the one doing the speaking here, but you are more than welcome to join in], I believe I was weaving together some random thoughts about hymns and the women’s retreat I had attended over the weekend. Another completely random thought regarding all of that is: it is quite a humbling experience to be in the presence of older women when they pray. Or maybe it is humbling to be in the presence of ANYONE when they pray. It’s been a while since I’ve been in that sort of environment, I had almost forgotten the power of the prayer warrior.

I guess if there is any word or words to describe what is going on in my heart lately it is simply that I am being humbled. Blessed and humbled. It has been such a refreshing breath of air to be reminded and reassured once again that God is still in control, always has been, always will be, and no matter how chaotic things get, and no matter how many scary headlines are printed across the Sunday paper, blah blah political junk, blah blah global warming, it is ever so calming to be covered in the peace that passes all understanding. Especially for a worrier like myself. I believe that He who created it is also sustaining it, and at the end of the day… I am small and He is Great. The weight of the world doesn’t need to–and was never meant to–rest on my shoulders.

It’s Monday again, but I’m okay with that because I had such a wonderful weekend. Saturday I attended a women’s retreat with a bunch of ladies from church. There are many older ladies at this church, which is a change from the church/es I’ve attended in the past. I’m not sure why, but we just never really had much of an older population but consisted of many young couples/families/youth. I suppose in part due to these older members, one of the interesting things I noted in the first few weeks of visiting this church is that they are a lot more “traditional”, incorporating many old hymns into the worship service and singing many songs I am not familiar with. I’ll admit; at first I was like, “Ugh, hymns, I prefer the Hillsong/Vineyard type stuff,” but my heart has definitely changed over the past month or so.

First of all, it’s not about ME. Second of all, as I was reminded this weekend, the lyrics of those old hymns
are some of the most beautiful words you’ll ever read. I am a fan of the “old language” and often lament my displeasure at the “casual” tone our language has taken over the past 50-100 years, so obviously I should be a fan of hymns, really. I don’t know why I ever held a grudge against them except that my only real experience singing hymns was at my grandma’s Lutheran church which was always boring to me. Hymns, responsive reading, people droning their responses back in unison… just not my thing. Then later in life I’ve attended Catholic mass with Jeremy’s family and felt much the same way. I guess it is not the songs themselves that bum me out, but the lack of emotion put into the singing of them. I always feel like hollering, “Do you even realize what you are SINGING??”

The theme of the women’s retreat was “It Is Well With My Soul,” which, incidentally, is my favorite hymn of all. It is one I am very familiar with and did grow up loving very much. The story behind the writing of the words is even more profound. This wasn’t just someone flippantly penning some “feel good” religious words, it was a man who had gone through the worst losses imaginable, pouring his heart out to God, somehow finding the strength to say, “It is well with my soul.” I encourage you to check out this short video of the song, it is accompanied by slides which tell the short story of Horatio Spafford and his family.

I have so much more to reflect on about this weekend, but I will end this now and write more later. Have a blessed week!