10 Things I'm Loving Right Now!

They're random, varied, and all of them have me a little bit excited.


1. HP7.1: Words cannot describe my level of excitement at the soon to be released first part of the final chapter in Harry Potter history. Can. Not. Describe. Let's just say I've never dressed up for a movie premier before, but I started planning my costume for this epic night a month ago. Yeah.


2. Sahale Snacks : I love nuts. Especially when they're glazed, such as candied pecans, or maple roasted anything. Sahale Snacks take this slight culinary obsession to a new level, with their imaginative and gourmet blend of glazed nuts. The Soledad blend is my absolute favorite - it's glazed Almonds with apple, flaxseeds, balsamic vinegar and crushed red pepper. And it's absolute addicting. If you can find any of the Sahale products, get them - I've only seen them at certain Starbucks and at Lifetime Cafe. It's worth stocking up when you find them, trust me.


3. Water Bobble Treehugger.com calls this the best water bottle ever invented, and I'd have to concur. Well maybe it's not the absolute best, but it's pretty darn close. With a built in, replaceable carbon filter, it's also BPA free, made in America out of recycled materials and has a ton of fun different colors to choose from. And it's under $15. Water Bobble is a good thing.

4. ExfoliKate: I'm an exfoliating junkie. I know most estheticians would probably tell me I shouldn't, but I exfoliate almost every single day. And when I don't, I feel the difference in my skin. That being said, this is by far the best exfoliating scrub I've ever tried in my life. Seriously, it's like no other. When I first tried it, I'd been on an allnightgirlfunbingebender with my good friend J, where we'd stayed up all night, wearing lots of funky tranny makeup, drinking too much wine and pretty much doing things that made my skin look like the dullness fairies took a crap on it the next day. I had crows feet I'd never seen before. So tired and depressed I went to Sephora, and sensing my mild desperation this is the remedy they prescribed me - ExfoliKate. Even though they said that creator Kate Sommerville was known as the facialist to the stars, and that ExfoliKate is just like having a session with her in office, I was a bit skeptical at first. But for $20 I was willing to give it a try. Now I worship this little tube, and would probably cry if someone broke into my home and took it. After the first time I used it, my skin glowed, and had a baby soft texture. Even better, the effects lasted well into the next day, and I've seen a dramatic increase in smoothness, texture and glow, as well as pore reduction since using it. You can choose to stick with your $3 tube of St. Ives Peach Pit Scrub, but take it from a woman who looks years younger than she really is - ExfoliKate will change your life!

5. Tights With Open Toed Pumps: I used to think I couldn't pull off this look, and now I just don't care. It's that devil-may-care attitude that actually pulls of this funky, artsy, fashionable statement so well. But for those of us who need a cheat sheet, this Lucky link helped me out a ton too!

6. All the new youth group kids: They're weird, they're loud, they're kids and I love them!

7. The Bird & The Bee - Diamond Dave, remember that song? Well, turns out that the Bird & The Bee aren't just responsible for that one awesome song, they've made many. Including, get this, a tribute to Hall & Oates (you knew it was just a matter of time, didn't you?). But my personal favorites happen to be their Bee-Gee's tribute version of How Deep Is Your Love and their version of Sara Smile, Rich Girl and Love Letter To Japan. Seriously, they're lovely and wonderful and catchy, and are on my daily playlist.

8. Ideas from Centsational Girl - I think I need to credit my friend KA for finding this blog, but ever since I discovered the link to it from her blog, I check it probably twice a week. It's seriously a DIYer's dream. Not only does she post great DIY ideas but walks the reader through some of the nuances of recreating and refinishing old furniture into great, one of a kind pieces, including various options for the same piece (kind of like those Choose Your Own Ending books liked in grade school). Her taste is Manhattan classy with a vintage twist, and she posts great photos, both of her finished projects as well as pieces, places and things that she gathers inspiration from. Great site for the decorating gal on a budget!

9. Martha Stewarts Winter Squash Dip - I'm definitely making this for Thanksgiving, and then I'm gonna grab the bowl, a box of FlipSide crackers and go hide in the corner eating the whole thing and watching football. True story. It's so good, and the chipotle peppers give it a great kick that really makes the dip! Don't leave them out, even if you're tempted to, it won't be the same without them!

10. Owls - I feel like I hopped on this trend wagon a little late, since I'm starting to see them everywhere. But seriously, those huge saucer eyes are so retro cute. I'm really loving adding them to unexpected places, like a subtle brass owl ring from Target, or this adorable umbrella holder from Two's Company!

A Change Of Scenery

I'm in a flipping great mood today. I can't pinpoint exactly why, though I can name off a few or ten things that might be contributing to it. Thing is though, they're not exactly anything new, and so I'm left wondering what it is within that has changed. No doubt about it though, something has, and I'm in a much better mood and perspective for it.

It's a gorgeous fall day, the sun is shining, the sky is clear and the air is crisp. I have a brand new pair of Minnetonka Moccasins in a rich jewel shade of purple to wear, and the suede is soft as butter (PLUS, they were on sale, for only $23.90 at Nordstrom's Half Yearly Sale - who doesn't love sale shoes, right?). I taught hospitality class this morning, and the lesson I wrote was a keeper - deep in the rich theology of opening our hearts, lives and homes to those in need, and showing Christ's love to a world around us. Plus we made a delicious Winter Squash dip that had just the right hint of roasted garlic, olive oil and chipotle peppers. I'm snacking on the leftovers as we speak. I got to spend a few minutes this morning kissing on the kids I love, and rocking little babies as they slept. And later, I get to take a Costco trip with Michelle - which I don't just love for the samples, and the $1.50 hot dogs, but for the time I get to spend with her, just warehousing store browsing. Yesterday I started my new job, and I like it, and see great potential in it, for growth, being challenged and feeling productive. Oh, and there's a paycheck in there somewhere too, that's not half bad.

All of these things are great, and good in themselves, and shallow as it may sound, sometimes these things make me happy (yes, shoes make me happy!). But my mood today goes far beyond just happiness, into a soul-blessedness that is permeating my very mood and causing me to hum songs to myself. This is a feeling I haven't experienced in weeks, nay almost months, and I'm so grateful for it I could just squeal.

I know I said I don't know from whence it comes, but I do at least know how to identify it. I am blessed. And as I learned this week, blessedness is a joy of spirit that comes not from the things in life that make us happy, but from the work of God moving both in and through us. Joy is something we can't get or make for ourselves, it is the result of this blessedness, and blessedness itself is a gift from God. I'm learning that though there are things I can do to make myself happy, shoes, babies, books, naps, beautiful fall days and remembering the smiles on faces of friends I love, blessedness comes only from God. And it is a result, a consequence even, of living in His mercies, His characteristics of mercy, grace, humility, peace and love. I can ask Him for these things, and seek and pursue them in my life, but unlike finding a pair of shoes on sale and snatching them up, being blessed is a character of our spirit, not something physical that we can own or lay claim to or even stumble upon. It is a choice, just as we must make the choice to mourn with those who mourn, be pure in heart, seek peace and pursue and hunger and thirst after righteousness. And unlike the things I do in life to make myself happy, it is eternal in value, and is something I can share with the world around me. Or at least I hope that my joyful little spirit today is contagious, and rubs off on those I see.

Today is a good day. It's a day wherein nothing has really changed. Yes, a few life circumstances are different - finally having a job for instance. But overall, my life is the same in content as it was yesterday, and the day before, and the week before that. What's different is my heart, and my realization that to embrace true joy, I must be willing to make the decision to live in a mindset of hungering for blessedness today. I've asked my God for it, I've tried to open up my life to being a conduit for it, and today, I'm actually feeling it. It. Is. Such. A. Good. Feeling!!!

Now, there is a $1.50 hot dog with my name on it somewhere up in Maple Grove, so I better get to it. That's my story and I'm stickin' to it.

The Declaration Of Independance

I'm kinda pissed off, and here's why - it has to do with relationships. You see, I've heard a lot of talk recently about people being set up. I've heard it from single friends, who are being set up (and sometimes frustrated by it) and I've heard my married friends talk about it, as in "Who can we set up So&So with?", and I've just been hearing it around a lot lately. And I'm just saying, right here, right now, that it's time to get something straight people:

Being single is not a disease. It's not an affliction. It's not a curse. It's not a drag. It's not a bother. Being single is a gift. It is a privilege. An opportunity. And I'm here to write the Singles Declaration of Independence! For me, and for all my awesome single friends out there who are tired of being considered second-class citizens in the social hierarchy of relationships, for every single person out there who's tired of hearing how being single must suck so badly, this is for you!

A few weeks ago, a conversation I overheard got me thinking about this subject, of how we view and treat the single people around us. I happened to overhear a conversation between one of my good friends and one of our mutual friends' mother. Said mutual friend happens to be a great guy, and happens to be single. The mother of the mutual friend was singing the praises of her son, and my friend was concurring, as well she should, that he is quite the catch. They were going on and on about how any woman would be lucky to get a great guy like him and how they can't believe he's still single. Then they started to speculate as to why he'd never tried online dating before, and my friend actually made the suggestion to his mother that she get him a subscription to a Christian online dating service for Christmas. At which point I think I audibly choked. Now, I'm friends with this guy, and I'm pretty sure that's the last thing he wants in his Christmas stocking this year, but I could be wrong. But I'm pretty sure I'm not.

Here's the thing folks, what started off as an innocent enough conversation, praising a praiseworthy guy, slipped down a treacherous slope pretty quickly. It went from innocent, to speculative, to manipulative, all within about 5 minutes. And the guy they were talking about, well he's none the wiser, and now a little bit at their mercy, since they're choosing to take his relationship status into their own hands. Grrr!!!!

But that's not the real travesty of the situation. I think one of the saddest things about this situation was the utter lack of regard for this guy's feelings that were being displayed. It was bordering on disrespect. He is choosing to be single, and instead of upholding him in his decision, they were trying to find ways to get around it. By doing so, they were implying. whether they realized it or not, that his decision isn't the right one, and that he must not really be happy or satisfied in it. After all, who would choose to be single, right? You know, I'm 250% sure that this guy, if he wanted to, could go out and date anyone he wanted to right now. But the fact that he's not dating anyone says to me, well that he doesn't want to date anyone. And shouldn't we all respect that?

And the point that my conclusion makes is this - any of us single people, if we wanted to, could be dating someone right now. If. We. Wanted. To. It's a sad fact that I could dial up any number of low-life ex-boyfriends and say the right words to worm my way back into their lives. If I wanted to. I could go online and meet some guy who's booklist is limited to Guns & Ammo or who feels that the three things he can't live without are "Guns, Sports Bars & Makin' Love" and say the right words and flash the right smiles and get me a date or two or three right now. And I'm not even that cute. Think about those men and women who are actually considered a catch by popular standards!

What's really going on here, is that for the first time in a hundred years, we're encountering a generation who knows deep down that it's really better (as in quality of life better; more fun, more enjoyable & rewarding) to be single, than to compromise their high standards to date someone for the mere sake of being in a relationship. It's just that our mothers and their mother's mother's and so on and so forth may not have had the freedom of that choice, in the way that we do now. Being single 50 years ago was such a social stigma and personal dilemna of constraint in all areas of life that hardly anyone would have chosen to remain unmarried. Women who were unmarried had a much harder time financially, socially and in numerous realms of life. It just wasn't a feasible or pleasant option. Not if you could help it. And for those who couldn’t manage, for whatever reasons, to even snag someone to like them, well they were labeled with such disparaging terms as spinster, old maid, or even (shudder at the thought) crazy cat lady. They were looked down upon, as deficient, or lacking.

Yet here were are, our mother's daughters, and for the first time in decades, we don't need a man to be accepted as an integral or contributing member of society. We don't need a man to take care of us financially, or emotionally, or physically anymore. Nor do our men need women around for the mere sake of keeping a home, or bearing children. We have progressed to the point that as a generation, we feel the freedom of not needing to be in a relationship to feel fulfilled in any part of our life (well other than sex, but that's a different story for a different time). We are capable of gleaning all the greatness out of life in our existing relationships and this is fulfilling enough that we can find contentment in our life without compromising our desires or wishes. Dating is obsolete as a necessity to having or doing the things we want to do or living the way we want to live. And the beauty of that situation is that it affords freedom. And freedom insures that we view relationships as a gift, and a blessing, rather than as an insurance policy.

Ideally, I’d much rather enter a dating relationship with someone knowing that they’ve swept me off my feet. I want to meet someone who's charm, laugh, intelligence, heart for the Lord, sense of humor and kind eyes remind me why it was good that I waited. I never want to be with someone only to make excuses for them, both to others, or to myself, and to live knowing that I have chosen a life of settling for mediocrity, rather than facing my own fears of being alone. Frankly, I love being alone sometimes, so why would I give up the devil I know, for the devil I don't? Why would I ever want to compromise the standards I’ve built up through years of solid friendships with godly people, for anything less than what I've learned is best? I don’t know one accomplished, content man or woman of today who would purposefully choose mediocrity in other areas of life. We aim high in our education, our careers, our spiritual growth, so it stands to reason that we should be able to choose to aim high when it comes to our love life as well. By choosing to be single, rather than date for the sake of dating, we're aiming high, shooting for the moon, and hoping to land in the stars. We are choosing to hold out for a perfect gift from God, someone who truly deserves our patient years, rather than trolling in a constant state of desperation or resigning ourselves to the well-meaning but often blinded set ups of prying relatives. And I think that is an honorable and noble thing.

I would be lying if I said that being single is always fun. It's not always a walk in the park. There are questions to answer, like the one the other night from my dad, when he asked me if I had a boyfriend, and when I said no, then proceeded to ask me if I had a girlfriend. I'd rather not face ignorant relatives who can't comprehend that I would choose to be alone, and would rather accept me being homosexual, than as being picky.

There are times I wish I did have a husband around. Like last night, when the Nyquil I had taken to abate my cold was kicking in. I realized my legs were like leaden bricks and I was too tired to even get up from bed and grab a glass of water to quench my cottonlike mouth. I just wanted a glass of water, but was lingering between sleep and wakefulness, and couldn't get up. Would a sweet and loving husband have done it for me, got me that glass of water? Yeah, probably. There are times when I really get the urge to write nice, encouraging little notes and put them in somebody’s lunch sack. Or drop in at work with a plate of cookies for that special someone, just to make their day. Could I do that for a boyfriend or husband? Heck yeah. Knowing that we’re created to be relational creatures, by a loving God who paired up pretty much everything here on earth, makes it easier to deal with those feelings as they arise. But if you're thinking of lecturing me on how God said it wasn't good for us to be alone, please try to remember that though we are blessed in our singleness, we don’t always need you to be out crying against it, for us. We can do that pretty decently on our own. If we wanted to.

And really, any minor and fleeting challenges’ aside, by and large being single is truly the gift that the Apostle Paul described it as. Only recently has the realization of what the freedom of singleness looks like occurred to me. Some of this realization comes from more time spent with my married friends. I applaud them in their dedication to a life of self sacrifice, discipline, compromise and hard work. They ones I spend the most time with do it so well, and so beautifully, that it too shows a side of God's relationship with us and Himself that brings Him glory.

Yet, as I look at the time and energy and devotion they spend, I also take a look at my life, and know that it is my singleness that buys me the freedom to do all the wonderful things I get to do in it. Singleness buys me the time I get to devote to the youth group kids and Sunday School kids I love, outside of Wednesday nights and Sunday mornings. Singleness buys me the time to read fifteen books on hospitality, to prepare for the class I get to teach. It buys me the time to sign up for every dance class I can take, and to do so with other single friends who have the time to boogie along with me. Singleness buys me the time I get to spend on friends' sofas, whether they're married or single, or on my own chair just spending time with Jesus, who is always the best company of them all.

This is time I would never have to spare if I were in a relationship. Not because it robs me of freedom, but because relationships are hard work, and they require attention. That time, energy, devotion and attention are items that single people have the luxury of choosing where else they’d like to spend it. There are so many opportunities and chances we get to take, that our married friends don’t, and that is truly a gift. And while we recognize that they are blessed in their own ways, we too, contrary to popular belief, are blessed. And most of the time, if you take a second to ask us, we're pretty darn content about it too.

I'd like to make one thing clear here. Please don’t get me wrong. I’m not dissing marriage or my married friends or anyone who's dating or in a relationship. What I am doing, or trying to do, is #1, compare apples to oranges, to show you, the reader, that, in all fairness, two distinctly separate and different things should not be compared to each other, and #2, send out a cry that it's high time that those of you who are inclined to matchmaking as the solution for all our problems, might consider upholding us single people in our decision to be single as a better alternative.

So, next time you are inclined to set us up, please stop and think to yourself, are you words better spent praising the work we’re doing with the free time our singleness affords? Next time you’re tempted to feel sorry for us, because we’re in our 30’s (or however old we may be) and still single, step back and look at our faces. Are we smiling as we serve? Are we fulfilled and joyful in our friendships? Are we really bemoaning the state of our relationship status on Facebook, or are you? Most of the time we’re not the ones who are so unhappy about our present state of affairs, for those that truly are, usually go out and do something about it, and don’t remain in our ranks too long. I would like to urge you, next time concern for our lack of dating strikes you, instead of offering to arrange a dinner between us and your eligible 50 year old, basement dwelling nephew, invite us to dinner with yourself instead, so we can get to know you, and more importantly, you can get to know us more. I think you might be surprised to find that we’re a pretty decent bunch, just the way we are.

And that’s my story, and I’m stickin’ to it.

Pretty Things

Sometimes I just like to look at pretty things. Ok, that didn't sound creepy at all.

What I mean is... I like pretty things. I like to wear them, I like them in my apartment, I like to see them in museums, and on postcards, etc. Yeah, I'm all girl, all the way. I think I have totally feminine taste, and I'm not apologetic about it.

It's awesome being a woman! We get to wear all the good stuff, like vintage jewelry, and cashmere sweaters in fruit-pop colors, and headbands with feathers on them and russet colored suede pumps. Guys get what? Khakis? (In all fairness, you guys get ties - and ties can be so pretty and fun, and sometimes I envy that you get to wear them, and I hope that if God ever brings me a husband, he'll let me buy ties for him, even if he never wears them, but bonus points if he does.)

Till then, this is the ring that made me sigh with the contentment of being a woman who can enjoy pretty things. It's a style dating back to 1890, and is Amethyst, which is my favorite gem (used to be garnet, but people change). Vintage is awesome. Rings are awesome. Pretty is awesome. And being a woman - well that's super awesome!

Thoughts On Hope, Faith & the Fine Art of Panicking!

Hope versus Faith has been a huge intellectual and spiritual journey/battle for me this past year. As I've come to terms with a lot of let-downs, things that I've wanted for my life that have not happened, I've been wrestling with the smoky, hard to catch notion of hope and trying to balance it with the idea that faith is tangible, in its own way, and never a let-down.

As I've been thinking and praying and reading on this concept, no good answers have come to me, till last night. Last night, an old verse hit me in a new way, and I found my answer in something that feels like it was always in front of my face. Romans 5:4. It was there all the time, I just didn't see it, even though I read this verse in my quest for answers, many a time. Maybe I just wasn't ready.

See, Romans 5:4 says "And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out His love into our hearts, by the Holy Spirit, who He has given us." Well it's more like verses 2-5 but....

.... You see, every time I had read it this summer, I was focusing on the whole building of character through sufferings and perseverance, and how the outcome is hope. But the question I was asking myself, nah, the statement I was cynically telling myself, is that when we suffer, and persevere, our outcome is empty, because hope is empty. What good is suffering if the reward we get is an empty hope, a promise of "Maybe"? I was skipping the next part, verse 5 where we are told why hope doesn’t disappoint, because I didn't want to believe that hope could comfort me. It is after all an intangible. Hope, for me this year, has been nothing but a big, fat let-down, so it's no comfort at all!

I turned 35 this year, and it was a difficult birthday. I've had to come to grips with the fact that I'm pushing 40, and the only thing I've got going for me is that maybe I can still pass for 29. I've wanted things in my life, heck I've wanted my life to look a certain way, and it has ended up looking and being so very different than what I could have ever hoped for. This here is my life - the life of a plain jane, a loudmouth, a single woman who toys with the idea of cats, but is too allergic, who's nice enough to be everyone's friend, but not pretty enough to be anybody's true love, who can't keep her foot out of her mouth or both feet on the ground, who must be content to hold other people's babies, and sing other people's children to sleep at night, who is frightfully unemployed, and can't find a job I'm excited about that wants to hire me, for my life! Who writes one heck of a run-on sentence! Where is the hope in all of this? This is not what I hoped for in my life.

For months I've been ignoring verse 5 and stubbornly looking God’s word in the face and saying "No God, you're wrong, hope does disappoint, because I am disappointed that the things I have hoped for have not come true." In my mind and heart, I’ve been able to be honest with myself, and say that faith always comes through. But that’s only because faith is something that I’ve believed to be grounded in God alone, unlike my three-wishes-from-a-genie misinformed notion of hope. Nowhere in the bible are we told to put our faith in the things of this earth that we want. We only put our faith in God and His goodness, as verse 1 of Romans 5 starts out by telling us. The only reason faith ever pans out is because it's always in God, and not in the things that we think will make us happy. Unlike what I’ve believed hope to be.

And that has made all the difference. You see, last night, as I was reading, I realized that the reason hope really doesn't disappoint, is because the hope we are called to have has it's basis in God, and the pouring out of His love in the Holy Spirit, into our hearts. Hope, as the bible explains it, isn’t for things. And it’s certainly not in things other than our heavenly Father. Paul doesn't say that we should have faith in finding love, or having babies, or getting a great job, or just not being a loser. That’s not what faith is. Nor does he say that we should hope for these things either. Really, in this context, the only thing he is saying about hope is that it’s born of suffering, is the result of great character and won’t disappoint because of God’s love. We hope, because we have seen His goodness. We hope because He's strengthened our faith. We hope not for things, but in Him.

You'd think this would have been pretty obvious to me at the beginning of this year, of this quest. That I could just read the verse, and get it. And maybe you readers have had this figured out the whole time. But I'm not the brightest light on the tree when it comes to this hope thing, or deep spiritual issues in general. It’s a good thing I can hope in a beautifully caring God who will never let me down, even if I do end up a crazy cat lady – I need all the help I can get! But the fact is, because I had been hoping for things, and not hoping in Him I just didn’t get it. I was looking for a magical wish granting quality, something to give me what I want, when truly, the thing I’d been looking for is a result of not getting what I want, it’s the beautiful result of a suffering heart. In which case, after the rejections and disappointments and failures of this year, well frankly, even of the past 35 years, I might be first in line in 2011 for a big heaping spoonful of hope.

So now I think I can go into whatever comes next with a changed, and better, perspective. Yes, I still hope everything turns out alright. I still hope to have my life slightly resemble the white picket fence vision I always wanted it to be. But I am not placing my hope in hope alone anymore. Hope is no longer than end, but more the means to get there. As for the end, well last night I saw God change my viewpoint and strengthen my faith through providing me much desired answers. I can rejoice today in a God that loves me enough to show me His goodness and how to walk with Him. And I know that He will be faithful to continue to do so.

In any case, this coming new year (yes, its right around the corner folks!) will be a life-changing one for me. I took a huge leap of faith yesterday, and the surface water of this step was, at first, exhilarating and exciting. But this morning I ended up in the deeper waters of panic! You see, after months and months of being unemployed, and after the past few weeks plunging me into a very real bout of depression over the state of my life, I realized I couldn't just sit still waiting for something to happen anymore. So I took action and did something to move forward and realize a dream of mine. I applied at a local college, for full time classes starting January 10th, and am going to go back to school to get my degree to be a High School English teacher.

It's a long story how this all sorta came about, and I could blog about it.... but let's just say for now, that taking this step was the rope that was thrown to me as I wallowed in a great big pity-party for the last three weeks. Funny, how if I look at it, the rope was there all along. This action was borne from meeting with a friend this week, who is, in a real and tangible way, letting God use him for His Kingdom. He's someone who, after being unemployed for only a month, himself took a leap of faith and decided to go into full time ministry, and now is support raising. There I sat, across from him in Starbucks, feeling horribly convicted, and asking myself "What am I doing to serve the Kingdom of God? Or even to make my own life better?" I go on job interviews, I wait and I hope. But I wallow in the pity party that my all too long list of life failures has thrown for me. And I wanted to be more like him, more like the active, dynamic and seeking daughter I know God wants me to be.

So, I remembered the goal I set for myself, that if I hadn't found a job by the fall, I'd go back to school and do what it takes to pursue something I really loved. And there's not much I love more than high school kids and books and writing, so it seems like a natural fit. Plus, I want more than anything to impact the young people of today for the Lord, and to drive them towards His goodness and a closer walk with Him. And 18 years ago, a wonderful woman by the name of Diane Martinez was my High School English and Journalism teacher, and she impacted me in such a way that almost two decades later, I'm still inspired to follow in those footsteps.

But I gotta tell you this is one great big leap of faith. I’m gonna need a whole lotta faith that God will provide, and give me the means to provide for myself. Things that weigh on my mind, even on day 2 of this decision are student loans, financial aid, and the fact that I’ve never been the best student. I may tease a dear friend about his 7 years of college, but after this move, I’ll have him beat with a whole lot more than that! I'm downright panicky today, and I know that I will have many more days like this to come. About four years of them.

I am scared. But I have hope. And a new understanding of it. I have hope that God will come through and take care of the details that strike fear in me. I hope that He will make me a good student, and an even better FAFSA applicant. I have hope that no matter how crazy a step this may seem, that He will honor my desire to do something better with my life than sit around watching Dawson’s Creek reruns and hanging out at Jon & Michelle’s all day. And that sometime during these next few years in my life, as I seek a new career, I hope that in His goodness, He might see fit to fulfill some of those other hopes and dreams too. And even if He doesn't, I have a stronger sense of hope, and faith, that my life will still be alright. After all, in His faithfulness, through the pouring out of His love, by the Holy Spirit, for the first time in months, I can say that I have hope, and I'm darn glad about it.

The Art Of Hospitality

This weekend begins the first incarnation of the Art Of Hospitality class at Faith. And I'm crazy nervous about leading it, but so fired up that I can hardly wait. I can't wait to share all that God has put on my heart with an amazing group of lovely women, all who bring joy to my heart in one way or another.

I first learned of the Art Of Hospitality class when a friend of mine taught it at my old church. She asked me to guest-teach one of the cooking sessions, and a few months later I was leading the class with her, and eventually took it over from her when he schedule got so busy she couldn't do it again. She had developed a curriculum that touched on the subject, but never really got in depth about it spiritually.

Since that time my understanding of the true nature of hospitality has grown exponentially. This isn't the same old lesson plan I taught years ago, about setting a nice table, and preparing a nice meal, and having some nice people over, with a few scripture references thrown in for good measure. Hospitality, I've learned in the time since, is a dirty deed, but somebody's gotta do it. And that somebody is the Bride of Christ.

You see, our culture, both secular and contemporary Christian, tries to tell us that hospitality is the same thing as entertaining, and that they are for all intents and purposes interchangable. This paints a picture of lacy tablecloths, and folded napkins, having your friends over for dinner and making sure the guest room has fresh sheets. Which maybe on some level hospitality includes. But when I say that hospitality is a dirty deed, it's because what it truly means is making ourselves vulnerable as we minister to, and care for, the physical needs of others. Others who may be on the fringes of society, undervalued, marginal, and lost. And yet, isn't that what we all have been spiritually, at one time? Sinners, fallen and forsaken, lost and alone. Yet taken in, and accepted into God's heavenly family.

For nine years now, I've been alone in a strange city - say what you want, coming from the warmth of a Latin-infused culture, the frigidity of the midwestern/Swedish experience can be really be intimidating at times. I've learned through both personal experience during that time, and through research as my passion on this subject grew, that true hospitality is the opening, not just of our homes, but of our lives, to others, and in an encompassing, nonjudgemental and generous way. This includes not just having them over for dinner, but having them become part of our lives, baggage and all.

As I've lived here, without family of my own, I've made friends, all of which I'm grateful for. But one couple in particular stands out in my heart and in my life, as being truly accepting, generous of heart, spirit and home, and have embodied the true spiritual nature of hospitality to me. They have truly become family to me - The J's. They've taken me in when I've had nowhere to stay. They've put up with the fact that I leave books and shoes and clothes everywhere, I come in late and I sleep in later. Yet they've given me a warm bed to sleep in, a hot meal, and a long hug, at the times I've needed it most. Some of the most meaningful, loving, and comforting moments of my past few years have been sitting with PJ, in her breakfast nook, just chatting about what God is doing over a cup of her delicious coffee. She and her husband have welcomed me, like my Father has welcomed me, into their family, and into their lives and have shared with me what they have. And in that, they have painted a warm, candlelight-glow-picture of spiritual hospitality and of my Father's heart. They've brought to life a concept that goes beyond entertaining, and includes so, so much more. That includes love.

As I get ready to teach this class again, I want to impart this message to the people who would honor me by showing up on a Saturday morning: That hospitality isn't about making the best or fanciest dishes. It isn't about knowing which fork is the salad fork, and where to put it when setting a table. It's not about just opening up your home on a Sunday afternoon. It's about opening up our lives to those who need their dignity and worth recognized, and who could use reassurance, love, respect and some physical, creature comforts. If there is anything I hope God graces me with being able to share, it's that.

And if we happen to make some killer Beer Cheese soup, or a phenomenal example of Beef Wellington in the meantime, all that much more fun. But this aspect of hospitality, making delicious food or making things pretty, I believe ministers to us. Sharing those dishes with others and experiences with others, is what we are truly called to and is what ministers to a lost, and hurting world in need. So, though it may not be much, this is my small gift, and I hope that when faced with someone who too is alone, lonely, hungry, cold or hurting, I can answer with a prompt and heartfelt "Here am I, send me". And then I want to send them home with some homemade Chicken Noodle Soup. Cuz true hospitality, the kind that the J's showed me, that our heavenly Father has shown us every day, is like Martha Stewart says "a good thing".

AM IN LOVE!!!

Style = Perception + Confidence + Risk.

In a million years I would never consider myself a "pulled together" person, with great style. Unfortunately, some of my friends seem to have this perception of me, and I swear to you, I'm not spouting off false humility here - I really don't know what I've done to deserve it. (But thanks, friendsies, for the compliments, I really do need the ego boost now & then) Really, I just think I'm a gal who thinks about clothing a little more than I should.

I also find it hilarious that the other day, while shopping for dishes at a local high-end retailer, not one, not two, but three women approached me and thought I worked there, and asked me for fashion advice. Not "What aisle are the over-the-knee boots on?", mind you, but "So, do you think I should try over-the-knee boots this year, and which ones are your favorites?" type of questioning. I blush!

Because, you see the thing is, I've been obsessed with fashion since I was a little girl. I remember my favorite thing to do, in third and fourth grade, was to make my own paper dolls, out of the cardboard inserts that came in my mom's pantyhose packages, and make them colorful, inventive little outfits out of computer paper and colored pencils. But for a girl who's mom dressed her till I was in the sixth grade, there wasn't a lot of fashion actually happening in my life, as much as in my imagination.

All throughout junior and senior high school, I definitely marched to the beat of my own drum. I look back now and I see that what I thought was "classy" and "elegant", by high school standards was probably really grandma-ish. And then there was the infamous "Elvis Costello" glasses incident. I distinctly remember being in the 8th grade, and seeing a pair of glasses in a Vogue magazine, and thinking they were top bananas. That year, at my annual optometrist visit, I begged and pleaded with my mom to let me get a pair just like them, and I did. Years later, I can see that for 2 long years in middle school, I looked like a miniature female version of Elvis Costello. Not hot. Imaginative and innovative, but not hot.

It was that imagination and risk that fueled my desire to be a fashion designer, well into my early twenties. After more research into the profession however, I let the growing insecurities of youth rob me of that dream. I realized that without a natural talent, and a fierce competitive drive, I'd never be able to hack it. And looking back, I can see that I believed I just wasn't that girl - the kind who was good enough to make it.

So, my history and love for fashion has been deep rooted my whole life, practically. Yet, even now, thirty-some odd years later, I still would never label myself as fashionable, or stylish, despite my slight obsession with it. That being said, every season, I always try to stay on top of the latest trends, while still utilizing what clothing I have in my closet. Yet, inevitably, I get drawn into one or two looks, and try to make them work for my annoying body type.
Every once in a while something works, and then, well you could say I'll run with it.

This season, fall, has got to be my favorite though. You can cover up!! You can layer!! Boots! Cardigans! Tights! Hats! YAY!!! Yet, it's still warm enough that I'm not limited by the confining fashion choices that Minnesota winters offer ("Do I want to wear this huge parka today, or that huge parka today?") This fall, I've decided to take a risk on skinny jeans, and let me tell you, it's one that has definitely paid off. I love them! What did I do before them? They look great with tucked in boots, and the proportions of them are perfect for the flowy, blousy kind of tops that hide all my insecurities and imperfections. Plus, I really do believe that maybe my legs are best bodily asset, so why not show them off?

In any case, taking risks on items, such as skinny jeans, isn't something that comes naturally to me, and so for inspiration I hit up all the good magazines, like Lucky, Glamour and Vogue (a perennial favorite since youth... I'll probably be 60 & still reading Vogue... thank you Anna Wintour, I love you!) for pictures of outfits that I can just copycat. And this season, one store/ad campaign has hit ALL the right notes for me. Piperlime.

For those of you who don't know, Piperlime started off as Gap, Inc's shoe affiliate, and only recently started venturing into fashion/clothing options as well. And OMG do they do it so well. I'm totally obsessed with their entire fall campaign, and am copycatting all the outfits in the ads, to phenomenal and bliss inducing results. So this, a huge shout-out to the Piperlime fall campaign, is the real reason for this rambling post. Just to say this one thing really - I love Piperlimes fall ad campaigns, and yes please sir, I'll take one of everything!!!!

Sidenote: The whole point of their ad, dubbed the "Let's Get Dressed" outreach btw, is that no one should have to schlub it in public, so for goodness sake ladies, put away the sweat pants, say goodbye to the ratty old tee-shirts, and class it up already. It's a fiery cry against the over-casualization of our nation! And frankly, I couldn't agree more! They've been getting a lot of flack for this "mean girl" approach to fashion too, mind you. Some recent tweets by the brand include "If the frienemy sees you out in public in your TV watching clothes, then the frienemy wins", and my personal favorite "Every time you wear sweatpants in public, a single guy leaves New York". Bahahahah!!! A little harsh, maybe, yet I can't say it didn't crack me up. One website actually went so far as to call their campaign bitchy, but admitted, that hey, it works. Bitchy, mean, whatever, it's definitely imaginative and hilarious, and really, there is a small hint of truth behind it.

Now, admittedly, this is a motto I only half-heartedly follow, being someone that twice in the last week has been out in public all day long in her Vikings sweatpants, a plain white tee shirt, a baseball cap and flip flops! The me of 20 years ago would be mortified at this laziness and probably throw a double-thick fall fashion issue of Vogue right at my head, and rightly so. But in my own defense, I think my reluctance to get completely on-board the "dress it up or just stay in" train is that after six months of being unemployed, I'm getting quite used to wearing my ratty old tee-shirts and sweat pants all the time and have become so accustomed to their comfort factor that I forget I'm actually in them before I make that Target run. And it is Minnesota, where let's face it, the fashion standards are way more lax than in my gloriously put-together hometown of LA. Still, I know that deep down somewhere in my soul there still resides a woman who believes you can be attractive at 7 in the morning, who knows that there are no ugly women, just lazy ones, and who longs to dress up every day for work, or dinner, or somebody or something. .

Sidenote to the Sidenote: Matter of fact, this morning, even though I was wickedly tired from a late night party, body parts aching and kinda crabby, I still managed to throw on my favorite skinny jeans, a pair of black buckled boots, a black cardigan, a plaid scarf, a headband, my favorite black military inspired coat, a fresh coat of lip gloss and go meet a friend in the wee morning hours to return his key thingie. As he pulled up to the meeting spot, still in what looked like his pajamas (unless he's taken to wearing wife-beaters in 50 degree weather for the fun of it), the first words out of his mouth were "Well at least one of us looks cute". The me of 20 years ago would be so proud. At that moment, the me of right now was kinda proud.

Anyways, back to the whole reason for this post - I digress. For those of you who've not seen any of the fall Piperlime ads, I'll be addenduming this post with some pics from the campaign. Read 'em and weep!!! (Hopefully you'll weep out of sheer emotional inspiration, and not because your sensitive little feelings were hurt by the blunt honesty of their ads). For now, just remember, those ads are mine to rip off, so don't copycat my fashion copycatting!!! Seriously. And one more time, for good measure - Oh how I LOVE PIPERLIME!

Thoughts on Kissing - Yeah, We're Going There Again

So, the other day I posted some thoughts about kissing, and boundaries, and waiting for the right person, etc, etc, etc. Little did I know they would have the effect they did, on more than one person. Within the course of one day I had two good friends applaud me for my transparency and raw honesty, and a former pastor scold me for the bad example I was setting being so open about sexual issues (kissing? really?) as a youth sponsor, and a role model to young women.

In the heat of the moment, I took down the blog post, as I fed into the worry he generated about what the young people I love so much would think of me. But in hindsight, I realized, if anything, they'd know that they have a friend and mentor who can be honest about her desire to be kissed, her past mistakes of a few bad kisses, and her hopes that someday the right guy, and the right kisses will come along. I remembered that though a kiss is not just a kiss, sometimes, it's not the end of the world either. So I went to repost the blog entry, only to find out it was lost and gone forever. Maybe there's something good in that - because it made me revisit what I wrote, and mull over much, much more in my head.

You see, I had written that a kiss is NOT just a kiss. A kiss is something deeply personal, and intimate, between two people. Drew Barrymore, my fellow LA hippie girl, once said "Kissing - and I mean like yummy, smacking kissing - is the most delicious, the most beautiful, and the most passionate thing that two people can do. Bar none. Better than sex. Hands down." My friend JC commented the other day that not even prostitutes kiss, because of the intimacy of the act. But I think he's seen Pretty Woman too many times. Kissing, you see, is a big deal. And that's the point I think my former pastor was trying to make.

In my post, I copped up to the fact that I'd recently been kissed. Or as I like to think of it, my face had been hijacked - because it most definitely was not a kiss I initiated or invited. And in the end, frankly, it wasn't all that great of a kiss either. It was, in my very firm opinion, a waste of a kiss. A waste of a very precious, valuable thing - something I'm saving for someone who really deserves it. And it was also the end of the chances I was giving a guy I'd been seeing. Anyone who would steal a kiss from me, and not respect that my kisses are something I'm saving up doesn't deserve to date me, and would probably never respect me on other issues (such as boundaries) as well. I saw that, and I dumped him. Via text, but still.

If there is a bad example set in this moment, and in blogging about being kissed, all I can see that it would be is this - I went out with a guy, and gave him multiple chances, even though I think I knew in the back of my mind and in my heart, that he wasn't God's best for me. But I'm a pushover, a softie, a nice girl, and I believe everyone deserves a fair chance. Maybe only because I hope that someday some guy will give me a fair chance, even if I make a horrible first impression, or if at first he's not attracted to something about me. But, the real mistake I made in this situation, wasn't being kissed, wasn't writing about being kissed, it was putting myself in a situation with a guy who would steal a kiss from me and fooling myself into thinking that second best was good enough.

Ladies, my dear friends, and you young women who read my blog - know this: There are amazing, wonderful, godly, phenomenal guys out there, who love the Lord, and who will love you too. Please don't do like I did, and waste your time giving chances to guys that your heart tells you don't fall into that category. I think of the really quality guys I know - the M's and the T's and the J's among a few - and I know in my heart that these are guys who would never in a million years steal a kiss from a girl without her consent, and without a heart full of love and respect behind it. I am blessed, in an rich, overflowing way, with the example and friendship of God-fearing young men around me, and I can say, that any of them would be worth saving your kisses for. There are guys out there that are worth all the kisses in the world. Don't waste your time on the frogs who aren't.

Life is a wonderful gift we've been given. Every moment is packed with potential and possibilities to show God's love and grace to a hurting world in new and enriching ways. And all those cliches. But they're only cliche's because they're true. If I could tell the young women in my life one other thing, it would be this - don't sit around waiting to be kissed either. Go out there, and find someone hurting, someone doubting, someone without the love of the Lord, and let His love flow through you, maybe not in kisses, but in some other tangible way. Find a baby without a home, and kiss on them. Find an elderly person, in a home, and kiss their wrinkled hand. Find a way to give a kiss, your love, part of your life, to someone in need of Christ today. Those are kisses we absolutely should not save.

Psalm 85:10 says "Love and faithfulness meet together; righteousness and peace kiss each other." Proverbs 24:26 says "An honest answer is like a kiss on the lips". Five times the New Testament tells us to greet one another with a holy kiss, and yet I think 1 Peter 5:14 says it best, "Greet one another with a kiss of love. Peace to all of you who are in Christ." See, kisses are such a good thing!! In the right context, with the right motives, and for the right reasons.

I have peace with having been kissed last week. Because I know I didn't ask for it, or even want it, and because it was the catalyst to remember that I don't have to settle for a guy who won't respect my views on kissing, on faith or on anything else of great importance to me. Getting kissed by a guy I was considering with hesitation and doubt, and some regret, was enough to remind me that my kisses are precious, because they can be holy, and a means for good and joy. It's those kind of kisses that I will continue to save. In the meantime, I am okay with the kisses I've wasted, and the mistakes I've made, because I know I've learned my lesson, and am moving on with an attitude of righteousness in this area. Drew Barrymore also once said "Life is very interesting. In the end, some of your greatest pains become your greatest strengths." Who knew she was such a genius?

Maybe some day, God will bring along a great guy, who feels the same way about kissing and boundaries and holiness as I do. But I'm not betting the farm on it. Because even if I end up like Miss Barrymore/Josie Grossie (Never Been Kissed! Get it?? Anyone? Bueller?), being kissed is not the biggest deal in the world, nor is it the barometer for the love we have in our hearts, and are able to share. And sharing that love with the world around me is something no stupid guy, no former pastor with good intentions, no one at all, can stop me from doing. And that's my story, and I'm stickin' to it.

What You Can Say And What You Can't Say And Why That Sucks

There are definitely some drawbacks to having your friends know about your blog. The first and foremost being that they read it. Ergo, if I have something I want to blog about, and it's going to be pretty obvious that it's about my friends, I just can't do it, no matter how many words-onto-paper I want to get out. It's not necessarily anything negative, but it could be pretty obvious, and embarrassing nonetheless.

There are times I want to chuck caution to the wind, live a life of complete and authentic transparency, and blog it anyways. My friend Kari says I'm definitely a "wear my heart on my sleeve" kind of gal, and while it's true, unlike Lady Gaga I have no Poker Face, I would hope that I'm at least a little mysterious and subtle at times. I doubt it though. I know I show my emotions much more than I should, and only wish I could hide them, making people wonder what's going on in this ticker of mine. I'm just not that girl. Blogging only makes it that much worse, because now instead of just guessing by the look on my face, my friends can read what I'm thinking word for word for lovely little incriminating word.

This is all to say - I'm struggling with some pretty intense emotions this week, and I really want to blog about it, because I have a lot to say, and some of it could be quite cathartic, and some of it relevant to what other's may be thinking or feeling too. But if I do, I'm afraid that the people who it involves, who love me, and have befriended me and nurture me would feel bad. Not that they've done anything wrong (again, to clarify, it's not anything negative I have to say), but just because they would recognize themselves as the catalyst for what I'm feeling, and I'm afraid they'd take it personally.

All this to say, there is a lot I want to say. A lot I want to post, and to write about, and verbalize through, if for no other reason than to just process. But I can't. And that, in itself, is just as frustrating as the things that I want to say in the first place. Things may change, I may get up some nerve, I may start to be ok with being honest about my feelings, even though I know it will mean having to confront them, in the context of friendships. But for now, just know that I am spilling over like a cup stuck under a faucet for far too long. And there is nowhere for all this water to go.

Addendum to Things That Get Me Into Trouble

Oh, I forgot State Fair Food, and Memoribilia - I really didn't need those Gophers boxers two years ago, or that Dairy Pavillion apron. But did I get them anyways? Yep, I sure did.

I REALLY didn't need that second batch of cheese curds from the Mouse stand, or to split another cream puff, or even the second round of Cajun spiced Deep Fried Pickles. Or the Salted Cashew Roll. Or the Bull Bites. Or the French Meadow Bakery Strawberry topped scone. Or the Hot Buttered Corn or the 1919 Root Beer. Or the gigantic lemonade.
But did I have those? Oh, you know I did.

And this year, I'm gonna have them again, as a matter of fact. And I am SOOO pumped to lose all willpower for a few brief hours, once a year, in the name of the Great Minnesota Get Together!

Things That Get Me Into Trouble

Or more aptly titled "Things That Fry My Willpower
Like A Cracked Egg On A Hot July Sidewalk"

1. Coupons for my favorite stores. - 40% off any one full-priced item at Banana Republic. Happy Birthday, here's 15% off at Anthropologie or Anthropologie.com. Take 20% off any sale item at J.Crew. These coupons are like kryptonite to my willpower. I may not need that new cardigan that I already have in two other colors, but by golly, I've got a coupon!!

2. Gelatto - why on earth do I think that just because this stuff isn't regular ice cream, it must be like sorbet, and therefore very low in calories, and actually, somehow really good for you? Chocolate Hazelnut Gelatto. Gotta be good for you - it's got Hazelnuts after all. And it's Italian. Makes sense right? Only in my mind. I might be the only person alive who doesn't get this!

3. When a guy talks books to me - Oh my god! Especially if he's already kind of a "bad guy" to begin with, someone I should stay away from. If he talks to me about plotlines, and character development, and literary influences, it's the mental equivalent of having my ears played with and my neck kissed. I'm not even kidding you. Too Much Information? Sorry, it may be, but how can I not swoon??

4. Staying in bed all day - reading, sleeping, watching movies.... 'nuff said.

5. A dare - I'm a sucker for a dare. Just don't do it, because trust me, I can't say no. "The Slap Heard 'Round The World"??? Ring a bell? Yeah.

6. Puppy Dog Eyes - you know that look that people give you when they want something? The big, sad, down turned eyes with a hint of longing sadness in them? I'm completely a sucker for it, every single time. People could ask me to watch their diarrhea infested cat, pick them up from the airport at 2 am on Sunday night, wash their stinky gym socks, make them a 12 course French meal, and I'd reply with a resounding "NO" of course. Unless they give me the puppy dog eyes. Big, sad, puppy dog eyes. Then, I just can't say no. Trembling lips are a bonus - they always seal the deal.

7. Anything labeled as "Spontaneous". One of my biggest fears in growing old is to become set in my ways, and boring. Therefore, I jump at the chance to do anything spontaneous, even if it's something I normally wouldn't do. Like drive cross-country to pick up your dog in Oregon, and bring it back in a tiny, last-leg Yugo, with you. In July. Heck yeah, you gave me 4 hours notice to get in on this road-trip-adventure-of-life! I'm in. Wooo, spontaneity!!!

8. Any opportunity to play a practical joke. My new favorite is sitting shotgun, and when you're at a light, you put the car in neutral when the driver's not paying attention. Sooo fun! Oh, I probably shouldn't have posted that here, b/c now people will be more aware of where my hands go when I'm riding in their front seat. Oops!

I try to excercise willpower, but frankly, it's not my strength. As the late, great Mae West once said "I generally avoid temptation unless I can't resist it." What a smart lady!

It's Coming Together

So, last week I hosted my first party at my new apartment. I've been in there since June, but it's taken me this long to feel settled in, and even remotely ready to entertain.

Now I know hostessing isn't about perfect - a real Martha Stewart - but I at least wanted the place to look decent before inviting anyone over. And short of the sweltering heat and my lack of A/C, and the lack of real seating (two very big issues, btw), I think it all came together pretty sweetly.

There are definitely a few things I need to get done, however. Like find or make curtains, get a rug for the living room, glaze the living room walls with a smoky tobbacco finish to warm up the cool Robins Egg Blue, find a decent armoire to refinish into the boozy cabinet of my dreams, put a ceiling fan in the bedroom and now, after viewing Centsational Girl's post on redecorating her living room, I'm thinking replace the very mammary-looking light fixtures in the living room with something a little more retro adorable.

I've realized, with moving in here, how much I really love home projects, and especially decorating and refinishing old, shabby finds. This is not a hobby I ever saw myself really getting into, since I have such a hard time putting down roots. But after my last roommate's strong resistance to my decorating efforts, I was all ready to make this place look like it was aalll mine!!

And I do believe it has.

So for now, there is much that has been accomplished, but I know so much I would still like to do. Good thing I've got time, imagination, a decent skill set and a power drill. What more does a crafty girl like me need?

Playing Catch Up

So a friend recently asked me for witty words of wisdom, here on my blog, to color and entertain her life. I wish I had them all the time. Even when I do, I'm not always near a computer, to just sit down and let my fingers do the talking, you know?

But I know you all deserve a catch-up, so brief as it is, here goes:

I got a job. It's good. That's all I'm saying on that.

I am not depressed - though thank you to all the well wishers who were a bit concerned after my last post. Even then I wasn't depressed - just pondering the differences between "Faith" and "Hope" and no, I'm not even talking about my last two church's. (And the greatest of these is love... just a little biblical humor in there for y'all). Faith is something we're promised has results and that is more or less tangible. Hope is less tangible, more ethereal, less solid, and something that we are not necessarily called to do, but because of God's goodness find ourselves doing anyways. Both are beautiful, and transcendent in their own way. I'm just trying to work out the differences between what we're promised and what we can only hope for in this life. They're not always the same.

Love life - meh, the same. After another failed, two month, get-yer-hopes-up-just-to-realize-he's-not-the-man-you-want relationship, and a date or two in it's aftermath, I'm back to just wishing I could have all or nothing. It's the in between, the desiring, that I don't want. I either want to be single, and want to want it with all my heart, or want to be married, snuggling up to somebody who'll hold my hand every night and having a wonderful family of my own adorable chubby, bright eyed, dimpled babies. Either or. I'm happy with either or. But not this in between.

I heard that an acquaintance, a guy I hardly know, but see occasionally, told someone the other day that he feels called to being single. I jumped for joy!! The first thing I thought was "Yay! He knows what he wants!! I'm so happy for him." How wonderful it must be to know what you want, and to be solid in it. I also thought, whew, now I can pursue just being his friend, without fear of him thinking I'm after him because he's young and single. In all honesty, there's a lot of guys I just don't try to be friends with for fear that they'll think I'm just some other single gal trying to get a chance with them. I'm not, I just really want to be his friend, and now that I know that, maybe I can just walk right up to him and be like "Hey dude, I heard you feel called to singleness. That's so great. Wanna just be friends?" Yay!!

And really that's about it for me lately. I have in my mind, and as something I'm wrestling with, more on this subject of faith vs. hope. The battle between what we're called to do, what we're promised, and what we can only anticipate and well, hope for. To the kind, wonderful women who's been reading my blog for two years now, and worries that I was depressed, I reassure, I am not, nor was I ever really. I think God's love and faithfulness were always keeping my head above water. But I will admit to this - hopelessness for me, is a deep black well, where you throw your penny in, and can never be sure if you'll hear it hit the bottom. There might be a bottom to that well, but you'll never really know. Faith, on the other hand, faith is a well that, though it may seem deep and bottomless, always has a bottom, and you can hear your penny splash, sometimes faintly, and sometimes resounding with a beautiful echo. Faith always answers. Faith never disappoints. Faith, what we are called and commanded to have and do, is ultimately rooted in God's love and His faithfulness to us. That's why it's a rope I will cling to with assurance and security. Hope, well that's another story, and one I'm trying to find the answer to. If I come up with anything, I promise, I'll be more faithful to let you know. I guess you can only hope.