to find beauty

a stereotypical back-to-the-blogosphere post

Hello? Anyone there?

It's me, Cori. I used to write here. I used to share funny stories about being single and wishing desperately for a husband. I wrote about my cat a lot, too. But then *magic* happened. I met the love of my life and on a chilly January evening (during sunset at the Oregon coast), he pulled a ring out of his pocked and asked me to be his wife. 

We got married. We lived at a homeless shelter. We moved. Our changes jobs changed. And changed. And changed. (Gotta love ministry!)

Marriage is awesome when you are married to your best friend. I learned (a lot about) the world of fake wrestling, discovered extreme couponing, and have logged countless hours playing Facebook games like Sims Social. We are a dual (note: not duel) church family, in that we serve and work for two different churches (of two different denominations, no less!) Our lives continue to spin and whirl before us, leaving precious blank spots in our calendar for friends and family... and well, each other. 

And maybe that's about to change? Maybe it starts with getting back into the saddle of writing to the few and far away. Maybe these next 40 days or so will help that out... Yesterday marked the first day of Lent, and even though I do not attend a church(es?)  that observes Lent in a super-serious way (at least from what I can tell), I've always loved the idea of intentionally choosing to give something up in order to invite Jesus into our heart to challenge, encourage, redeem or convict us... 

However, I am a little "bad" at keeping up with the whole 40 days deal... Blame it on a weak follow-through, even if it is for the Lord of Lords. So, when I read this post, I got pretty excited because even though its for 40 days (or so), it is broken down week-to-week. And each week is different: yee-haw!

 I decided to mutiny.

To put my hands in the air and wave the white flag. I give up. I am burned out and tired. I am drowning in the excesses of trying to do it all and have it all. Of missing friends and family. Of spending more time staring at screens than the sexy brown eyes of my beloved. Tired of tripping on laundry on the floor and piles of papers in the office.... when all I want is to feel freeeeeeeeeee!

I made a couple decisions. One, I am leading a small discipleship group for women. I grow best when I have others around me (according to Monvee, I grow best in the context of relationships.)  I also believe having people over on a weekly basis will force me to have a tidier home. (We'll see about that!) (The irony of adding something to my plate in order to feel less busy, is not lost on me, by the way.)

In my preparation for our first studyto be 'unpacked' tonight and reading over the chapter on Assurance, this verse stuck out at me:

If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteosness. 
1 John 1:8-9

Good stuff. I shall conclude this "back-to-the-blogosphere" post with a confession because I wholeheartedly believe that He is faithful, just, and has promised to make all things right:

I need something to change. I want something to change. I profess that something WILL change.

Stay tuned for more rambling and what I may title: 'Mutiny of Excess and Me'.

(Also... I need my wonderfully gifted, handsome husband to help make my blog site look pretty again... hint, hint... so please excuse the boring page.)

a time to plant and a time to uproot

Fall is my favorite time of the year. I love when the weather cools down and the wind blows through the golden red and brown leaves creating a whirlwind of color in the sky... I love breaking out the sweaters and hoodies and scarves - heck, it's Oregon: the mittens too! I also love seeing school supplies in the stores, Daylight Savings Time and even the unavoidable argument of Ducks vs. Beavers during football season.

I've been thinking a lot about seasons lately, and not just the seasons we learn about in kindergarten.

Seasons of life. For two years I was in a season of "finish school, work hard, squeeze in the fun." I didn't know it, but I was in a season of preparation. Getting ready to meet my husband. Getting ready for a full-time ministry position. Getting ready for my world to change completely!

I graduated. I got married. And I joined my husband, Dave, at My Father's House, a family shelter in Gresham, Oregon. We moved into a great, little one-bedroom apartment on the main level, and Dave's role went from Floor Manager to Overnight Manager. His job, amongst other things, was to keep the night safe for residents. I was also promoted to Office Support Director, a full-time position at Abundant Life Church which led to increased hours and responsibility. 

We loved it. We spent our precious off-the-clock hours enjoying each other, and settling into this new season of life and juggling plans with various friends and baby-sitting our wonderful niece. 

We've also been learning a lot about family shelters, homelessness, and the crazy co-existence of marriage and full-time ministry. Both are emotionally, if not time-wise, demanding. Both are wonderful. And as we navigated toilet seats being left up and who's cooking dinner or who's doing the laundry... we navigated how each one of us is gifted by God to serve and love Him... how together we bring a whole new team to the table for God. 

We thought we had planned things out perfectly. We'd live at the Shelter for year or two, working on some past debt, learning about each other and how to be married and praying for what God had for us next.

(I was hoping for Nicaragua; he was hoping for Croatia.)

And then our timeline got crunched. God had other plans for us!

Starting with our zip code. Hello packing boxes! We will be saying our farewells to the staff and residents of the shelter starting, well, now. We will be moving out of the shelter the first week of November. We will be moving from 97030 to 97060 - to a great two-bedroom apartment we found in Troutdale!

(For those who know me well: Elwood can come too! It also means I get my "shared" office area back!!!) 

And Dave will no longer serve and work at My Father's House. He didn't do anything "wrong" - just another victim to the downward economy. When giving to non-profits is down: you gotta do, what you gotta do. We love the shelter, we love the staff and the families. We especially love the youth kiddos who have enriched our lives this past year in the youth group. THEY have taught us so much about dealing with change and dealing with things out of one's control. They're pretty amazing, actually.

His last day will be October 28th. They told the staff and residents today; we waited for them to know before we made the news 'public'. Most people thought we were breaking baby news. 

Nope. 

And maybe you're confused because you thought we had "good news." Read on.

It's easy to feel bitter or scared. Read my previous post: Dave and I were going through big changes and it was causing me to wonder about my faith in God and the plan He had for us... not because it's bad, but for me: because I don't know what it is. I have to step back and trust in Him who has all things under His mighty, loving control.

During this time, Pastor George Powell (ALC) gave the staff the book Ruthless Trust by Brennan Manning. Honestly, the timing couldn't have been better for me. I could quote many things, but I love this (and it was easy for me to find again!): 

Unwavering trust is a rare and precious thing because it often demands a degree of courage that borders on heroic. When the shadow of Jesus' cross falls across our lives in the form of failure, rejection, abandonment, betrayal, unemployment, loneliness, depression, the loss of a loved one; we are deaf to everything but the shriek of our own pain; when the world around us suddenly seems a hostile, menacing place-- at those times we may cry out in anguish, "How could a loving God permit this to happen?" At such moments the seeds of distrust are down. It requires heroic courage to trust in the love of God no matter what happens to us. (pg 3-4)

Wow! was all I could say when I read it the first time. I needed to be reminded to be brave and to trust that God loves me so much. How easy it is to dwell in our own pain and to blame the world.

I also take condolence in the words Paul spoke to the Galatians. Now, Dave is the pastor-not me- so I'll need some grace here as a stumble through the biblical application portion of the post. But Paul shares his concerns to the Galatians (Galatians 4:8-11):

Formerly, when you did not know God, you were slaves to those who by nature are not gods. But now that you know God—or rather are known by God—how is it that you are turning back to those weak and miserable principles? Do you wish to be enslaved by them all over again? You are observing special days and months and seasons and years! I fear for you, that somehow I have wasted my efforts on you.

Yikes. How easy is it to forget that I am a child of God, and that I am not to be enslaved by the worldly values... values that could be also called sin. Separating me from my Abba father, when I need Him the most.

I love that Paul says not to dwell in the stuff God rescued us from, but (and this is where I twist words a little) says to celebrate! Okay, so he says NOT to celebrate the worldly holidays, but I am going to argue he'd be cool with celebrating the days, months, seasons and years that God gave us to serve and love Him! Because in these seasons, God is teaching me -us- so much. Besides isn't there something about a season for everything? A time to plant and a time to uproot... We are living in not just new zip codes, but in a new faith and trust for the future He has for us.

So, I gotta admit: we are getting pretty darn excited. Sad to say goodbye, of course, but we have chosen to look to the future with anticipation. We have pledged together to trust God wholeheartedly.

And new fall-time sweater adorned, my handsome, wonderful husband went to his first job interview this week... 

the dark mud

I feel as though I am writing in hiding... the apartment is quiet except for the sound of the dishwasher and all is dark and nocturnal-feeling. And it's not even 11pm! For the first time in my married life, Dave has gone to bed before me.

So, alone in the dark quiet I type away.  My mind has been spinning the last couple weeks, which is exhausting. Sometimes writing helps clear my head to what is important. 

I just finished Anne Jackson's new book Permission to Speak Freely. I devoured it in two nights. The book was fantastic, and I challenge others to read it too. I'm too lazy to leave my cozy quietness to get the book (it's still by my bed) to quote from it, but a lesson that has been floating around in my head and heart since reading the book is this: What am I scared to say in church... or maybe just say out loud? Admit. Confess. Take claim over. How am I really feeling? Am I scared? What is to be afraid of? And, honestly, Cori, how is your relationship with Christ right now.

I'll be honest and confess one thing for now: I've been really angry lately. Angry and overwhelmed and exhausted and worried and busy and, sometimes I worry, a little depressed. 

I should note that I haven't been angry at Dave.

Really, I have everything I've ever wanted right now. I am married to an amazing man whom I love so, so much. We both love Jesus and church and helping others. We live in a home where our very basic needs are met. I have a wonderful family and a new family to get to know. And I have an amazing job, where I was just promoted to Office Support Director... I get to be the bossy boss! Scary! (That feels weird to me still.) It's what I've always wanted.

But little things are setting me off. I desperately want to be slow to anger, but sometimes... oh sometimes... I let my mind wander and wonder about all the things I feel that are unfair or out-of-my-control or just plain sad.  I give this anger permission to be ugly and confusing and mad.  And it settles in me like black mud. Weighing me down. Stealing my joy.

In the past, when I've felt this way I do strange things. I re-do my room. I cut my hair. I spend too much money. Watch too many movies. Dumb things. Escaping things.

And I do good things: I go on trips to the beach to think and pray. I have long conversations with trusted friends. I hug my cat. I listen to worship songs. I force myself to stop and let things sink in.  I evaluate: is this really that bad? What's the worse that can happen. 

I am a thinker. I am melancholy. My mind never stops. And somehow, I need to let go of this heaviness that has me tied down. 

I pray.

Confess. Forgive. Let go. Heal. Love. 

And I feel a little better.

I have so much to learn...

---

Dave must be awake, because he keeps calling out my name. No doubt, he's missing having me by his side. Strange how quickly you grow accustomed to sharing a bed.

 

 

welcome back?

I've been a little busy. My life has changed so dramatically in the course of a summer... graduating, becoming an aunt again, getting married, turning 30... it can be overwhelming... and amazing.

I've given myself permission to devote my attention to my new husband, managing a new home or getting settled in at my work and ministry - the blog can wait. 

I am asked quite often how married life is going. The honest truth is... we're doing great. I love marriage. Though, we're tired most of the time (99%), and work and ministry has our minds and hearts heavy and full. We're addicted to Netflix and Chocolate and Peanut Butter Bugles. Dave is starting to eat salad... things are good.

I'm juggling a busy, exciting ministry career at Abundant Life Church and volunteering with Dave and the youth group at My Father's House. I am still recovering from an all-nighter all-girls slumber party last Sunday night. Girls are so silly! 

Dave is also setting into his role at MFH as the Overnight Manager... which means I share my husband at night with the emergency phone - and he becomes the house warden! Talk about a crazy first month of marriage! At any time in the night, the phone will ring, startling me out of sleep as Dave jumps out of bed, scrambling for clothes (heehee). I've been so impressed with his ability to not sound like a total grouch when he answers those late-night phone calls. He's got a lot of patience!

Some nights, there are no rings... other nights... well, the phone goes a little nutso and Dave is off helping someone with something and I get to hog the bed for awhile. As newlyweds, sharing your night-time moments with an interrupting telephone can be quite the romance breaker... but we are working it out and I think we've gotten more accustomed to an interruptible life!

And I miss my cat more than words can begin to express. Elwood, the best cat ever, had to stay with the "grandparents." I visit often, bringing my "child support" of his favorite food and treats. But I miss my cat, and I look forward to living somewhere someday where he can live too!

Every once in awhile, I get a little homesick for my old life... mostly I miss the comfortability of the life I had established as a single, independent gal. Weird, huh? I also never had to worry about toilet seat still being up, someone else's messes to clean up or watching football... ugh. And I had a lot more alone time.

I got used to being in control of my life... well, as much as one can really be in control... and with marriage and working in ministry... there is a lot of control that needs to be turned over to a spouse or to God. I am learning a lot, and while it feels painful sometimes, I love that God has Dave and I in his protective arms. 

I am also learning how to listen better. Catching myself from nagging too much (usually too late) and being totally AMAZED at how weird men are: especially Dave. He wants to bless me all the time. He's always saying wonderful, nice things to me. When I am cranky, he can still look at me and say I love you. He makes me breakfast, coffee and a lunch every morning. He helps with dishes, garbage, and sometimes even bathroom duties. He cleans the floors - the task I hate the most - and knows better than to drink the last Diet Coke. 

He does things like to leave his clothes on the floor (still learning about sorting colors with our fancy laundry sorter) and makes the bed like a ten-year old... But I love him.

I love him a lot. And as I learn how to write openly about this new season of life... I am sure God has many lessons for me to learn.

 

 

 

it just so happened...

The word is out! I'm getting married.

I'M GETTING MARRIED!

Wow.

It's really real. 29 years of waiting, feeling hopeful and wondering (a lot). Of purchasing books like How To Get a Date Worth Keeping (which I might add... was the last book I read as a single person) and watching boy-gets-the-girl movies.

Of course, about 12 of those 29 years, boys had cooties and were really great to play soccer with... and that's about it.

So, 17 years. That's a whole teenager (and one who drives.) 17 years of writing in my diary angry/sad letters to God: "When Lord? What's wrong with me? Why not this guy? What do you want me to do? I give up. No more, well, maybe one more. I trust You."

17 years of wondering who this guy is going to be. Not really understanding how anyone will understand me or think I am beautiful even when my eyes are red and my hair is a mess. Or who would be as silly as I am. And as serious. Or would love the Lord. And love people. And be so patient. And...

I just couldn't picture him. And then, it just so happened I responded to an ad that he was just about to pull off from view. And it just so happened he knew friends of friends. And felt a calling to serve in Nicaragua, just like me. It just so happened that despite his crazy spelling, I continued to write to him. And it just so happened I sat with two friends over coffee in my church lobby (when I was thinking of ending email communications) who told me give him a shot because I was just scared. And I did. And it just so happened we had actually met a year or so before, but our friends didn't introduce us... It just happened we fell in love.

At church, we are going through a message called Defining Moments. It's a series on Esther, but what I love most about the messages is when Pastor George reminds us that God is always at work. Even when we don't see Him, He is behind-the-scenes, the master coordinator of all the it just so happeneds.

I remember the night before I was supposed to meet Dave for this first time. I was so nervous and excited. Everything with Dave had felt so different, even when I was so scared. It's hard to explain. But it was like I could do anything, and it would work out. If I bought a lottery ticket, I'd win. If I went jeans shopping, I'd need a size smaller (and they'd look fantastic.) The night before I met Dave, I remember feeling this intense call to worship. So, I got out of bed, and turned on a worship compilation CD. And waited. 

And as I listened to the words of the songs, I wanted to sing too.  I needed to bow down on my knees. God broke my heart. And prayers intermingled with flowing tears. I let everything I could out. Everything that had been holding me down. Emptied, I went to back to bed and to sleep.

As Dave and I have dated, I've learned many things about me. And about boys (they are still so weird.) And relationships. (You should see all the new books about being engaged I have!) I am learning about trust and getting over fears and in enjoying life. I learned to take a chance, and adventure can be a new relationship.

I didn't write during the holidays. I don't know why I didn't, becase it ached not to. So many happy things happened. We made Thanksgiving dinner. We are building our ministry together for the youth at My Father's House. We talked about marriage (a lot actually), and he "had the talk" with my dad. We celebrated Christmas and I got Sharpies and diamond earrings. We kissed at midnight on New Year's Eve.

It was wonderful.

Now, there is the most beautiful engagement ring ever being resized for me. For me. And I just spent the last couple hours snuggled with this man who loves me and wants to marry me. Who I wish I could snuggle with forever... but we have to wait 174* days for any of that.

My husband-to-be.

Who, on January 28th stood beside me at Seaside beach, overlooking a beautiful sunset and told me that he loved me so much. I remember looking up at his face as he spoke and he looked nervous. But I felt calm and at peace. He said he knew exactly five months prior, on the same beach, watching me across a bonfire on my birthday that he loved me and someday would ask me to marry him.

And so he did.

Will you marry me?

And it just so happened...  I said yes.

  

*The coundown until the Big Wedding Day as of 2/6/2010.

Psalm 27

I was reading through Psalms the other day, and I landed on this one... I thought I'd share:

Psalm 27
An Exuberant Declaration of Faith

A Psalm of David. The Lord is my light and my salvation; Whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life; Of whom shall I be afraid?

When the wicked came against me
To eat up my flesh,
My enemies and foes,
They stumbled and fell.

Though an army may encamp against me,
My heart shall not fear;
Though war may rise against me,
In this I will be confident.

One thing I have desired of the Lord,
That will I seek:
That I may dwell in the house of the Lord
All the days of my life,
To behold the beauty of the Lord,
And to inquire in His temple.

For in the time of trouble
He shall hide me in His pavilion;
In the secret place of His tabernacle
He shall hide me;
He shall set me high upon a rock.

And now my head shall be lifted up above my enemies all around me;
Therefore I will offer sacrifices of joy in His tabernacle;
I will sing, yes, I will sing praises to the Lord.

Hear, O Lord, when I cry with my voice!
Have mercy also upon me, and answer me.

When You said, “Seek My face,”
My heart said to You, “Your face, Lord, I will seek.”

Do not hide Your face from me;
Do not turn Your servant away in anger;
You have been my help;
Do not leave me nor forsake me,
O God of my salvation.

When my father and my mother forsake me,
Then the Lord will take care of me.

Teach me Your way, O Lord,
And lead me in a smooth path, because of my enemies.

Do not deliver me to the will of my adversaries;
For false witnesses have risen against me,
And such as breathe out violence.

I would have lost heart, unless I had believed
That I would see the goodness of the Lord
In the land of the living.

Wait on the Lord;
Be of good courage,
And He shall strengthen your heart;
Wait, I say, on the Lord

My initial thoughts:
Some people I love dearly are going through a difficult time right now and my heart goes out to them... How do we encourage those who face really scary stuff? We pray, we turn to God for direction, the right words/actions. I love the reminder that we shall not have fear and we shall place all our confidence in God and He will take care of us. He gives us strength, no matter the enemy. He is bigger! He will fight for us. And we shall respond in joy! Joy! When we want to cry or punch the wall, we are told to look for the goodness of the Lord. And through it all, we shall wait on Him- which is really, really hard but what we need to do, the only thing that will get us through and our hearts will be made stronger for it.

Up next: (and it feels really random to write) shop for jazzercise shoes (Where do you get these? I have no clue.)

angry conversations with God

Sometimes when God works… it's not-so-mysterious.

Last Monday evening, I found myself with an hour or so to fritter away to my own carefree enjoyment. I set off to the local bookstore to peruse the aisles and find a new addition to the growing piles of books around my bedroom. I found Susan Isaac's "snarky but authentic spiritual memoir," Angry Conversations with God. Or maybe it found me?

It was the last copy on a display table filled with books about religion and spirituality. It stuck out. The title screamed for (my) attention. Angry conversations with God? Is this for real? The inside flap began: "I was raised Lutheran: Bible believing, Jesus-loving Lutheran. But as an adult I tried everything: Pentecostals, Presbyterians, Episcopalians, Rock 'n' Roll Slacks for Jesus, Actors for Yahweh. Then I said, 'Screw it' and became a drunk and a slut. Well, a Lutheran slut—I slept with only two guys. Then I got sober and into AA, where they said I could pick whatever god I wanted. But I didn't pick God; God picked me. I've known Him as long as I can remember."

I was hooked. She continued to describe her problems as "middle-class white girls" and hinted at some pokes at the American "churchianity." I was definitely a white girl. (I wore a skirt today and my white legs are a testament to this fact!) And I've been a Christian for as long as I can remember. And I certainly know something about "churchianity."

Dave-Ramsey-Financial-Peace-cautions were pushed aside; I didn't even look at the price. I needed to read this book. This book promised something funny and fresh, and different than the books sitting in the piles. I have been wrestling with intimacy with God. I didn't know what the book would reveal about God and me… but I was willing to give it a go.

I wasn't let down. This book spoke to my soul. She shared her God story with the "snarky but authenticity" the cover promised. She was funny. She was real. The pages flew by. She shared of her frustrations and loneliness as a single woman. I related. She shared her annoyances with church-y phrases like "living life together" and I nodded emphatically. She shared her view of Jesus (wimpy) and God (angry) and I began to wonder about my own view of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit with an intimacy I haven't experienced in a long time. Not since the glory days of Uprising when worship was easy and lovely. I miss those days.

I can't do the book justice and I don't want to ruin it for anyone else who may read it. (Obviously I am recommending it.) So, I am not going to say anything more. Just that when I finished the last chapters, I was sitting at the community table at the local New Seasons grocery store (yes, this is another place I like to "hang") surrounded by others eating and chatting and I was crying. Yeah, I probably looked like a weirdo. But something very real within me was touched by her story.

I spend so much time doing things so other people can know Jesus. This is not bad. The mission of Abundant Life Church is to reach as many people as possible for Jesus Christ. As a staff person and member, this is my objective. I agree with it. I feel extremly honored to be where I am, doing what I get to do.

I think too often in the hustle and bustle of making sure a church event is pulled off, or whatever project I am working on, I forget too easily that before I reach others I need to make sure I am being reached. It's not selfish. It's not rude. It's not irresponsible. It's wise and good. And it's really, really hard for me. I don't know why. I don't know why I am afraid. If Susan's God was angry, mine is distant and hard to please. If Susan's Jesus was wimpy, mine is sad and frustrated with me. Both want a lot from me. They are demanding and exhausting. Yeah, they both love me, but I am their daughter, they have to… right?

Last Friday I was at the church office working on some projects, and I had my Angry Conversations with God book with me. A friend of mine who manages a Christian bookstore had asked I write a little review for his store. I had hoped to put something together for him after I clocked out when the church was quiet. My co-worker Val (who also doubles as my dating mentor, but that's a different story entirely) walks in my office space, sees the book at my desk, and says excitedly, "Oh my goodness Cori! I just watched this woman on KATU this morning! She's hilarious! She is reading from her book at Imago Dei tonight!"

I flipped out. I was so excited. I wanted to meet her, hear her story in her own voice. But then I remembered I had a conflict. I was already booked for a "play night" with a volunteer team from church. Yes, on a Friday night my plans are church-work related. I realized I had to make a decision between doing something I was already committed or something for my own personal, spiritual growth. This was actually a touch decision, and I begrudgingly admit I let my pastor-boss make the call for me.

Going to the book reading was about me and God and where I am in my own spiritual growth journey. I don't feel close to God. I feel neglected and a little angry. Okay, I feel pissed off. (I am not going to get into why here.) I feel tired all the time. I feel a little lost and lonely. I feel like a machine that needs to put things out constantly - workschoolpeoplehomeself - with no thought of how it gets fueled.  I am being a poor provider of my own soul care. And I don't want to be. I want to cry out to Jesus and ask him why the desires of my heart have been forgotten, for help, and I am scared to hear the answers. I don't want to be told I am doing anything wrong. I am stubborn. I don't want the expectations of others to define who I am supposed to be. I don't want to be fueled by the approval of others. I want to be confident and in love with my Creator, but when I cry out to Him my voice squeaks. It's like fingernails on a chalkboard. I don't like hearing it. I stumble with my words. I'd rather hide and keep on being busy.

But something tells me, God doesn't mind my squeaks. He wants me to talk to him and cry with him. He sees the potential and passion in me that's good and wants me to see it too. At some point I had scribbled these words by Josh McDowell on a piece of paper and tacked it on my bulletin board: "A healthy self-image is seeing yourself as God sees you-no more and no less." Jesus wants to be my fuel because he isn't judging me—he loves me.

Sigh.

"If God really was good, then I had to let go of every expectation and every grudge. I could no longer defy him or manipulate Him. I might even have to let Him love me (page 224)."

This is obviously a process, and I am not going to solve everything within this post. I want to be honest with others and myself (or try to), and was reminded at the book reading that I need to write these feelings out. It's one of the tools God has given me to learn and grow. Maybe not always on a public blog! But I also believe that when we write for others (like blogs are) we are writing for others to see their own self in our words and experiences. So, I will continue to write.

No more poop, please.

I just discovered something completely awesome. 

I just discovered that if I put a cd in my new dvd player... IT PLAYS MUSIC! Really! So, the sound quality is a little lacking, but it works!

This isn't what I wanted to write about. Though it makes me very happy right now. Much happier than what I want to write about!

This past weekend was one of those weekends. One of those God-is-trying-to-teach-me-weekends and if I ignore it was one of the weekends, I would be missing out on something pretty amazing.

I found myself eating dog poop. Twice. Stinky, gross, make-me-gag dog poop.

Well, not really dog poop. (Go with me here.) Figuratively. About three years ago, I attended a workshop where the facililators distributed chocolate brownies. They looked delicious, They said we were welcome to eat them anytime, but that we should know they mixed a spoonful of dog poop in the brownies while making them. Just a little spoonful, so we should be fine. Not to worry. Don't they look and smell delicious?

Of course, who wants to eat dog poop brownies? Yuck. The lesson, ultimately, was when we let a little dog poop in our lives -- when we gossip just a little or tell a little white lie or say yes to something we should be saying no to. When we do those little things we know deep down they are wrong, bad, not good for us, but we-I- let them slide because its just a little dog poo. Won't hurt me. I'll be fine. Its a lie.

A little dog poop IS STILL DOG POOP,

Well, sometimes a little dog poop ends up being a Crap-ola Special. And the pooper-scooper is coming out.

My point: I watched two movies last week that if I could do a rewind, I would. Now, before I get too sanctimonious here (because I don't want to sound judgemental, nor do I want to be judged here! I just want to share what I am learning), I love movies. I really, really love movies. I love the stories, getting caught up in the drama and romance and suspense. And some movies I want to watch, and do watch, are rated R.  I remember being asked by my co-workers back in my Burger King days in college, that if I watched R rated movies because I was Christian. I thought they were crazy for asking me that. I felt embarassed, actually, and spouted some arrogant answer about watching whatever I wanted to watch because I was a good judge of what was good. 

Ha. 

I subscribe to Netflix (which is awesome) and love that I can watch movies instantly to my laptop. I decided to watch the movie Untraceable last Wednesday night. I knew it was filmed in Portland and had something to do with the Internet. (Which was exciting to me because I have been learning about culture and the cyberspace in one of my classes this term.) I knew it was rated R. I didn't even think twice about the rating.

I didn't know it would scare me so much. Not just oooh-scary, but deep-down-to-the-core terriffied. I relate the feelings of fear to when I watched the Gus Van Sant movie, Elephant. Terrifying. Sad. I wanted to cry. There were disgusting murder scenes. And the movie wanted to show how easily people are targets on the Internet.

Ugh. Too close to home.

THEN, I got asked to a movie by a friend whom I had been looking forward to finally meeting... yes, after that terrifying movie about people being murdered after meeting people on the Internet, oh-so-wise-me still decided to meet someone from the Internet to go to a movie. His pick: Watchmen.

He turned out to be fine. The movie?

I wanted to cry. I was so embarassed. Imagine being in a movie theater sitting next to someone you just met (who again, was very nice and I look forward to getting to know outside of a movie!) and on the very large movie screen before us, multiple sex scenes played. Fairly graphic ones too. Okay, I don't have to imagine too details here. I sat frozen in my seat, too embarassed and uncomfortable to eat the popcorn he had purchased. I was too mortified to move, and too nervous to just be there in general to say anything (part of it was not the movie's fault but my own nerves when I am at a movie with a boy.) 

Actually, this reminds of me of high school when I was invited to watch movies at my crush's house and HIS PARENTS brought home Boogie Nights for us ALL to watch. Yeah. Imagine watching a movie about a young man's step into the world of pornography with your crush and his parents! I believe I excused myself from the movie back then before it got too, too bad.

Anyways. Present time. Do I watch the sex scenes?  Do I close my eyes? Look at the ceiling? Look at my friend? Grab his leg? What do I do? Its not like I have never seen this stuff before (I mean, hello, I watch tv too), but something in that moment... something about this experience convicted me that this was not something good for me to see.

I don't remember what I did. Probably all of the above (except the grabbing of the leg bit.) I was tempted to get up and leave or offer to baby-sit the TODDLER who was sitting behind us!! Yes, who brings an impressionable toddler to a movie like that? It was heart-breaking hearing the little girl say, "mommy, this is scary." Yeah, Mom. It is scary. Not only was there a lot of sex, but the "super heroes" were sort of like bad guys too and there was a lof of killing and murdering. (Is murdering a movie genre?) Anyways... I was saddened that the sweet little kid's mind was being filled with such dark images. Ugh. She will have nightmares, images in her mind she won't know how to deal with.

OH! And Mr. Manhatton walked around naked. Again, I might sound like a prude here, but I do not want to see a genatalia over and over again in public, next to my friend. If I ever see that much of a penis I want it to be from changing a baby's diaper or well, other activities that will wait until later in life when I have a ring round my finger. Hehe. Its bad enough they show nipples on tv and in movies now. Are we going to be seeing man parts all the time now too? (whine)  I am all for art and beauty and the body's form.... but seriously?!

Oh goodness.

My friend asked me what I thought of the movie when we walked out. I said it was a lot to take in. I didn't want to hurt his feelings either. There were some great elements of the movie too. I liked the historical references for example.

After these two movies, I realized that rather than a bite of poop brownies, I just willingly ate the whole pan full. Partly because I didn't say no, and partly because I was too worried about what someone else thought of me. And honestly, I just didn't pay attention to what I was going to watch and put into my mind.

loving oneself and God

I am enjoying the long-awaited read of Anne Jackson's Mad Church Disease, so much so, I am taking my time to read each chapter thoroughly.

(Which is quite okay, since I am reading about ten books right now.)

So... on page 57, Anne talks about how "if we can't love ourselves, we can't love others in the way that God has designed us." She says we are in "the midst of a crisis that needs our full devotion of mind, body, and spirit."

She writes this after she says "we're pretty terrible at loving ourselves."

Think about this for awhile. How do you love yourself? What does that even mean?? How does one take care of oneself without being selfish or rude?

Now, read Mark 12:30. Really, Go open your bible and read it.

(I can wait.)

I don't know about you, but I have read this verse a lot. Its a favorite of mine. But something hit home.

Anne continues: "Notice Jesus doesn't tell us to 'love others with all your strength;' he says to 'love the Lord your God.' By loving God, we're faithful to his commandments. And when we're obedient, God will carry out his work through us. He will prepare us for battle in all areas."

How do you love God?

Who is getting your strength?

How does being obedient and taking care of oneself match up? What work is God going to do through you, and how can you be ready?

 

[By the way, you can also read Anne's book and learn even more. It's called Mad Church Disease and Amazon sells it!]

on listening

Last week I had a terrible, weird dream. I am not sure how it happened, but the right side of my head was sliced off and the exposed area was melted like Jason. If that is not creepy and weird enough, my right ear was intact after the slice. In the dream, I went and picked up the ear (because I was fine otherwise) and was holding it and wondering how I could put it back on my head.

I am not sure what I ate before I went to bed either.

According to dreammoods.com, "to see ears in your dreams, suggest that you need to be more responsive or receptive to guidance and assistance from others. You may be relying too much on your own judgment and intuition. You need to listen more closely to what you are being told. Alternatively, it signifies your immaturity and lack of experience." There were no matches for "melted face."

Now, I honestly do not look to dream interpretation websites for my wisdom—a little too Ouija-board-fortune-teller-astrology-ish for me—but sometimes it's a little interesting. And in this case, it was a little insightful.

I have been wondering lately about my listening skills. So, the fact I dream my right ear is sliced off in some grotesque-horror-movie fashion has me a little unnerved.

I complained to some close friends a couple Fridays ago that I was frustrated that "people" didn't want to get to know me. Now, I fully realize how completely ridiculous this sounds, and I realized this as well about five seconds after I said it, but ergo, I made the grand announcement so I couldn't rewind. I complained that I would listen to people, but the road didn't always go both ways. (Then, lightening struck me for lying.]

Again, I realize how ridiculous this sounds. So, I have been pondering this… and I gave myself a little challenge—scratch that—a big challenge. I would be intentional about listening to others, and not sharing all my fun-and-can't-wait stories until they've exhausted themselves verbally.

It has been very hard. I have failed more than I have succeeded. [I love to talk and share.] But I feel like if I want to be the good friend I want so much to be, I need to boost my active listening skills. No more ridiculous pity parties. (For the time being.)

So far, I have learned a lot.

1. One friend was bit by a spider and now wonders if he will gain super powers like Spiderman. He hopes his superpower will be to "control energy." I texted him this afternoon and he has yet to see signs of a superpower.
2. A different friend of mine wants to study anthropology… someday. She is also very lonely.
3. One friend was excited about her "first kiss" with her new boyfriend. He had perfect lips.
4. Another friend was really upset that the Beav's lost. (Okay, so this was a given, great listening skills not required.)

Hmmm. So, I think that's all. Your turn.