Saturday, August 29, 2009

Live hard. Die young.

It keeps happening. You live hard. You go fast. You die young. And our celebrities do the same thing. We just don't get it. Crazy world.

Drug Overdose Suspected in DJ AM death
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Friday, August 28, 2009

Almost time...

I seriously would either be aMAZing on this show... or get ripped to pieces. =^) Still, at the beginning of every season I say, "I'm SO glad I'm not there!" And at the end I say, "I should SO be on that!"

Except I did apply. And they didn't take me. I guess I'll just watch from the comfort of our couch. (If anyone would like to send an LCD our way, my watching experience would be greatly elevated. Hee-hee.)

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Thursday, August 27, 2009

I can't believe we're here already

Taylor has his first *TACKLE* football game this afternoon. (Eeeek!)

Which means he walked out the door this morning wearying his game jersey. (He made the interscholastic team, by the way. Extra practice. Travel for games. Different jersey.)

Remember in school? The football guys wearing their jerseys on game days? It was cool. The ones walking in that morning carrying their helmet and water jug? It was cool.

Taylor is now that kid.

So as he left this morning with his jersey on, water jug and helmet in hand, I had a moment. A Mom Moment.

Then I noticed his expression change as he looked up from the sidewalk out front of our house and saw two girls... two cute girls... walking from the other side of our street in the same direction he was going. They were a little ahead already, and I watched his pace quicken and him become aware of where they were.

"You better be careful," I called from the front step. He looked back at me, got a sheepish smile, that aw-mom look, and kept going. I know he's excited for the game. Excited to wear the interscholastic team jersey. Excited that people will notice.

I can't believe we're here already. At this place. In life. Where my son is playing tackle football. And noticing girls. And quickening his pace to walk by them in his jersey with his water jug and helmet. I can't believe we're here!

(But one of their skirts was way too short. I had another Mom Moment.)
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Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Pine Trees

It was sometime last November, before Thanksgiving, that we planted the seeds. You know, the ones that come packaged with the cute little individual pot and dirt pellet at Target? For just one dollar you, too, can grow your own Christmas tree. “Really,” you justify, “if it fails I get to keep the little pot.”

So, I bought four, one for each kiddo. “What fun!” I thought. “They can water them. Take care of them. Watch them grow. It will be educational! Then we can plant them in the back yard!”

(Target knows that’s what every parent will say.)

The kids thought it was great. They loved seeing the dirt pellet expand when we added water. They were excited about burying their very own four to six seeds in the soil. And then we waited.

Those four little pots sat in the middle of our kitchen table, which was the only suitable perch where they would receive adequate sunlight. We even had a friend come water them while we were away over Thanksgiving. Nurture. Care.

Little green buds began to sprout up. We were so excited! Up they came. It was a race. (Because everything is to those under 14.) Whose pot would sprout all their seeds first?

Then the middles of each began to unfurl. Little sprays of pine needles! One umbrella per fragile little stem. They unfurled…

…and then just sat there.

We watered. The kids asked when they would grow more. “They are,” I replied with hesitating confidence, “you just can’t see the growth yet.”

The kids lost interest. I kept watering. I kept watching. I kept them in the middle of the table.

Nothing changed.

Christmas came and went. They had pink and red little pots now at Target with wildflowers and lavender for Valentine’s Day. “Maybe those will grow faster. A quicker result.” I hoped. So, once again, I bought four. The kids’ excitement was renewed! Adding the water to the dirt pellet. Burying the seeds. Sure enough, the green little stems popped up from the soil faster than ever. We watered them, along with the little pine trees, and watched as they took over their pots. What joy! But soon they got all tangled and started withering and turning brown. (When you say withering, don’t you want to say wuthering instead? Just to sound Bronte-esque? I do.)

“I know!” Right at that moment I SO had the answer, “they just need a bigger pot! That’s probably why the little fir trees aren’t growing anymore and the other ones are dying!” So, we went back to Target and got a larger pot they could all fit in comfortably, with plenty of room for roots to grow. They transferred, but the wildflower and lavender continued to turn brown and shrink up, ultimately passing from this world. When I pulled them out, their roots were so little and wispy. I wondered if that’s why they didn’t make it.

The pine trees just sat there, looking so very small in that very big pot, still in the middle of our kitchen table.

Then their little stems started to turn brown. “Oh! They’re getting all wooden! Finally, something is happening.” I would call the kids every now and then… they weren’t that impressed. Nothing was growing UP. Nothing was growing BIG.

“Mom, maybe this is all they’re going to grow.” They would say.

“No! There’s got to be more!” I did NOT want to give up. I would NOT admit defeat.

In July we made our move to Colorado… via Las Vegas… via the Grand Canyon… two week’s worth of hotels and stopovers. And the trees came with us. They sat at my feet in the Suburban. They sat in the hotel windows for sunlight. They were watered. Nothing changed.

We’ve been here now over a month. Our new house has a little ledge on the kitchen’s bay window where my (the kids long since gave up) pine trees sit and bask in the sunlight. More than a few times they’ve almost met their doom at the hands of rough children playing tag. I’ve almost thrown them out in frustration of “where do I PUT all this STUFF?”

I noticed the other day most of their little stems and needles had turned an even more death-looking brown. The little umbrella sprays were curling under and starting to shrink up. “I guess it wasn’t wood. I guess it was death.” In my moment of sadness it was just too much to throw them out. A clear illustration of too many things that die before ever realizing their potential, like much of our world in this present time. It was all too philosophical for the trash can.

This morning I reached for the pot full of brown pine trees. “Might as well…

“WAIT! What is THAT?” And there, amidst the sea of brown, in the middle of nearly every little pine stem, was a new sprout of green growth. Fresh. Bright. Beautiful.

And it was a moment.

Because before you can have apparent growth on the outside, you need to have it on the inside. Before you can grow up, your roots have to grow down. The other flowers that had shown so much outside growth so quickly didn’t last because their roots were too small. They couldn’t withstand the transplant that was supposed to help them, supposed be good for them.

But these little trees, my trees, took the time to grow their roots deep. They lasted the transplant, and just when I was about to toss them for lack of visible growth, there it finally came.

How often we are so impatient! How many of us would have tossed the trees and extinguished the miracle that was forming beneath the soil? (The only reason I didn’t was because I’m so ridiculously sentimental.)

How often do we discard relationships, give up on those around us, move on to something we think will be bigger, better, because we can’t actually see the growth? We can’t see what WE think is anything positive happening. So we move ourselves on to whatever is next, never fully reaching our potential where we’re at.

I think God works below the surface. I think He takes His time in establishing our roots, in growing them deep so we can withstand the transplants that are meant for our own good. I think the appearance of brown doesn’t always mean life is gone, and what we often see as failure is actually an integral part of the process of growing a new life… a stronger life.
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Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Correction


I know that because of this post and this picture it has been thought Colorado Springs is already entering the cold season. I have received many a comment and email confirming such assumptions. I realize my attire may have contributed, but the reality is it is beautiful and usually in the mid 70's to mid 80's here on any given day.

Our house, however, remains at a constant 71 degrees... which means 67 in the basement... which is cold... to me. So if you come over you will most likely find me in a sweatshirt, much like the one in this photo. The red scarf was because I had just received it via snail mail from my mom-in-law and was quite in love, so I wore it all evening.

But please do not think this means Colorado is cold yet.

Yet.

Although I'm looking forward to layers and scarves and boots and snow. =^)
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Friday, August 21, 2009

When faced with the reality...


This was originally posted on citizenlink.com, written by Kim Trobee:

Sarah Kliff has covered abortion at Newsweek for two years. So she was surprised at the discomfort she felt when faced with the prospect of watching an abortion for a story she was doing on Nebraska late-term abortionist, LeRoy Carhart.

Kliff spent four days at Carhart's Omaha clinic interviewing patients, hearing their stories and eventually viewing at least one first-trimester abortion.

"There was a discomfort I hadn't expected," she said, "my emotional reaction to watching abortions. I had (and still have) difficulty understanding my own reaction, both relieved to have watched…and distressed by the emotionality of the process."

It's something many in the pro-abortion camp are reticent to admit. Kliff faced odd reactions when she returned home.

"Friends who supported legal abortion bristled slightly when I told them where I'd been and what I'd watched," she said. "Acquaintances at a party looked a bit regretful to have asked about my most recent assignment."

Carrie Gordon Earll, senior bioethics analyst at Focus on the Family Action, said the inner struggle is hard to ignore.

"When you come face to face with the violence of what abortion really is," she said, "it can be a different story, as this reporter learned. Abortion kills children, and witnessing an abortion demands a response to that truth."

Kliff acknowledged that abortion is not just another medical procedure.

"Abortion involves weighty choices that, depending on how you view it," she said, "involve a life, or the potential for life."

Earll said, "The finality of abortion is almost palpable and once it's done, someone has died and you cannot reverse it. That may be what the reporter experienced."
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Thursday, August 20, 2009

What goes around, goes around, goes around, goes around...

...comes back around.

I remember 7th grade. Watching Mike McGill one row over bend down and carefully fold the bottom of his pantleg into a taper, then meticulously roll it up into... a peg. It was glorious to behold. The artistry. I did the same with my acid washed favs. And all was well with the world... until my feet went a little tingly from lack of circulation. (Mike used to say that meant you were doing it right.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flash to yesterday. I'm walking into Costco. I happen to look down and realize... OH, MY GOSH!!! MY PANTS ARE PEGGED!!!!!

No, my pants didn't suddenly become conscious of the world and peg themselves. I just didn't quite realize that... when I folded them over and rolled them up a few times because I wanted something a little different in the outfit but still wanted to wear my comfy khaki pants that I've had forEVer... I was pegging them!!! (Queen of the run-on sentence! Yes!)

Suddenly becoming aware can rock you. I started laughing. And remembered Mike McGill in all of his pegged pants glory.

So, I had to come home and document the drama for you. (Because that's what my life would be. A docu-drama. I don't think it could ever be just a doc, because there's too much inflection in my voice. Right? RIGHT??? Hee-hee.)


Omg! Lol! They're pegged! Like, you know, middle school. Like, totally. (Okay, so it's a loose peg. Very. They actually just look rolled up. But they ARE folded over. Which constitutes a peg. Wait! I can't resist! "I don't even own *a* gun, let alone many guns that would necessitate an entire RACK." Sorry. Had to do it.)


Had to show you the outfit. Ian wanted to be in on it, too. He's so cute.


I HAD been wearing my hair all down and messy-windblown-like. But then we were arranging things in the garage. And I pulled back my fringe with some bobbys... and I liked what happened! So I left it. And documented it, too.

Now, I don't have any current, you've-got-to-have-them boyfriend jeans to peg. I know. So sad. But, when I get them, I'm sure I'll be all back-in-the-day nostalgic again. Yes.
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Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Happenings of My Recent Days

Yesterday, there was this...


And today there was this...


All four kids. Gone all day. At school. This is a new phase for yours truly.

So, I'll be enjoying this...

(Yes, I know the carafe and maker don't match. There's a story. That I'm not sharing right now.)

While trying to organize this...


While imagining the possibilities of the year to come...

And staying warm in my new deliciously red tube scarf that I just got in the mail from my mom-in-law. Love it! (At the moment it evidently goes well with a cozy Central Coast Gymnastics sweatshirt.)

If you want to enjoy and organize and imagine with me, come on over... but know that I just may put you to work. =^)
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Monday, August 17, 2009

Learning

I’m not sure who it was harder for… but the boys’ bets would be for me because they saw my face when I got back in the car.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brittney has been on the waiting list for the school right behind our house since early May. The school both Jordan and Ian are at. The school that is right next to the school that Taylor is at. The school that we walk to. That our backyard overlooks. That the kids play at. That school.

In May she was seventh. “You’ll get a notice in the mail when she gets in.” they said.

“No problemo,” we thought. “Seven people will surely move over the summer!” But time went on. We heard nothing. “Surely, we’ll get out to Colorado and a spot will have opened up. Everything else has been falling into place with this move. This will, too.”

First week of August. No letter. We called. She was second.

Last week. No letter. We called. She was first.

But still not in.

The district assured me they would keep working on it. But even if kids didn’t show up for third grade on the first day they had to make every attempt at locating them and finding out for sure if they weren’t returning… which could take two weeks.

Or everyone would come back and she’d remain at that other school for the rest of the year.

By herself. Without her brothers.

We prayed. We kept praying. We said how fun it would be to have her own school.

And she put a brave face on. She laughed. Nervously.

And I prayed some more. “God? Don’t you know this is my daughter’s heart here? Do You really know what You’re doing? I mean, of course You do. You’re God. But, come ON! This is my little girl! My only little girl!”

Thursday we went to the new students night at the school behind our house. Then we drove over and went to the new student night at the overflow school. Just in case.

Friday evening came. She was still number one on the waiting list.

Last night we prayed for open spots. We prayed for friendships. We prayed for bravery and confidence. We prayed for wisdom and attitudes.

And this morning the boys and I piled in the car to drive Brit to her school that started at 8:20, before taking Jord and Ian to theirs that started at 8:30. Her own school. By herself. Without her brothers.

She looked nervous. We talked about how the teacher had a hamster and three fish. And how the office staff had commented, “Ooooo, you have the most popular teacher in the whole school. EVERYone wants to be in HER class. Maybe you'll decide you'll love it so much that you'll want to stay!”

Brit smiled, and then quietly said, “But, it will be weird to be at a school by myself… without my brothers.”

When we crossed the playground to find her teacher holding up the sign, when Brit put on her brave face, when she didn’t smile as I said goodbye…it was hard for both of us.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

God has our children in His hands. He knows their hearts. Nate and I have dedicated each of our four kiddos to Him, back into HIS care. I know things won’t always flow smoothly. I know this world will happen to them, too, just as it does to each of us. But I know each thing that comes their way God will use to mold them, raise them up, shape them into someone who will reflect His glory brighter and brighter, ultimately drawing others to Him.

Our job is to teach them. Teach them to trust Him. By praying. By reminding them Who is in control. By showing them what it looks like by trusting Him ourselves. By praying some more. And then letting go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This afternoon Brit hopped out of the car, bounced around the house, relayed the details of her day, said she’d made a friend. “Thank you, Lord, for being with my daughter!” I thought as she danced back and forth in front of the counter while she talked. Her voice did lower a bit when she said, “Mom, it’s weird being at a school by myself.” But then she pranced off to get a snack and do her daily reading.

At two minutes ‘til 5:00 o’clock my phone rang. “Mrs. White, a 3rd grade spot has opened up, if you would still like it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I think the lessons God so gently teaches our children are also clearly meant for us. Trusting Him with the details. Trusting Him with our children. Making the best of what comes our way, knowing He’s preparing us for HIS best. And letting go.

Because my daughter learned those things…is learning those things.

I am, too.

And the uncontainable squeal when she jumped into my arms upon hearing the news was evidence that God knows exactly what He’s doing.

It’s so often worth going through the valley to have the view from the mountaintop. The beauty of the one does not shine as brightly without the presence of the other.
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Sunday, August 16, 2009

I'm not sure I'm ready for this

Friday I had one. very. excited. twelve-year-old. Football gear handouts. Real pads. Real helmet. Real football pants. And his dad's old practice jersey.

Grrr...



When did I get to be this age? Old enough to have a son playing football? And not flag football, but full contact football. When did all this time pass by?

Yesterday while riding around doing errands he announced from the backseat, "Hey! It says my mouthpiece has a $1000 guarantee against any damage! Cool!"

Yes. Cool. My thoughts exactly.

But he's been running every day out at the track behind our house. And he went and ran drills in our backyard yesterday of his own accord. He really wants to make the interscholastic team (as opposed to the intramural team, which anyone that comes out is automatically on), and is putting forth the effort. Determination. I'm proud of that.

So, today at lunch when he said, "Mom, the first time I get hit are you going to be crying, 'Oh! My baby!' from the sidelines?" I said right back, "No. I'll be yelling at the mom crying on the other side of the field, 'That's right! My baby just took out your baby!"

He smiled broadly and sat up a little taller in his seat.

Good thing he has a little sister to keep him in check.



(Oh, Lord! Help me survive this mothering thing!)
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Friday, August 14, 2009

H&M!!! YOU NEED A STORE IN COLORADO!!!

Do you hear me? Store-Placement-Decision-Maker People at H&M corporate headquarters???

I mean, SERIOUSLY. Because you can't come out with something like THIS and think that girls like ME, who now live NOWHERE NEAR an H&M, will be fine and dandy.

I am not fine and dandy. I want these shoes. Probably my one chance at ever actually owning a pair of Jimmy Choo's and I've just moved away from anywhere within close proximity to your glorious shopping oasis of quality affordable fashion.

Oh, what a world! What a world! I'm melting! I'm melting! Waaaa-haaa-haaaaaa.......

My ONLY CONSOLATION is that it says they'll be available at "selected H&M shops," which means not all. Which means that not everyone who even lives close to your stores will be able to get them. Yes, that's a consolation. Because if I'M going to be in misery, it only helps if I know there are OTHERS in misery with me.

But, think about it! Denver would be the IDEAL location for your next store!!! It would marry your East Coast and West Coast presence. It would introduce your finery to a new market. And, the Denver/Colorado Springs area IS one of the fastest growing in the nation. Plus, we're supposed to rebound from the whole recession thing faster. AND, speaking of the recession, I'm sure there's an amazing large storefront that you would be able to move into BEFORE NOVEMBER!!!!!! BeFORE you introduce your new Choo line. Eh? EH?

Now we're talkin'... NOW we're talkin'! Okay, so I'm the only one doing the talkin' (not a new thing, I assure you), but at least the issue has been brought to the forefront.

Think about it? Lovely H&M Store-Placement-Decision-Maker People?

You have your people call my people. We'll talk.

*Photo from H&M's online magazine. I'll be deconstructing their Fall Fashion shortly.*
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Wednesday, August 12, 2009

On Being Pursued

Reactions are always different when I tell people about the gifts God gives me. The reactions are not the reason for the story, but they come along like an aftershock you can’t help but notice: not the focus, but big enough that it gets your attention anyway.

Those who have experienced what I have are joyous with me, knowing the deeper sense of being pursued, of being loved that comes with the sheer awe and belief-yet-disbelief.

Those who yearn for what I have experienced, but have that longing left unfulfilled ask how. How do you know? How do you hear? How do you bring that about?

And those who think what I describe can’t possibly happen, can’t possibly be true, have a very difficult time co-existing my obviously genuine joy and very real gift (laptop... boots... whatever) with what their world deems would never, could never happen. Because God doesn’t work like that. There are only coincidences, and those have nothing to do with a distant maybe-there-maybe-not God.

Still there are those that have, on occasion, laughed with a mixture of disgust and pity for this girl they think sadly simple. Because for them there isn’t even the possibility that a God, a God who could be so personal, so intimate, even exists. For them all is foolishness, and those who claim to experience such things are foolish and simple. To them there are much greater, more pressing needs of society, of the world. With all the urgency around us, we need not consume our time and energy on something as antiquated as a crutch of belief in God.

Eugene Peterson, in his introduction to Nahum in the Message Bible, says, “If we are conditioned to respond to noise and size, we will miss God’s word and action.”

Read that again.

“If we are conditioned to respond to noise and size, we will miss God’s word and action.”

So often people’s unbelief comes from the root of a wrong perspective. We expect God to show up with horses charging and guns a blazing. And if there isn’t movement in a big, grandiose way then God must not be doing anything. Because that’s our perspective. It’s either big or it’s not at all. In our society there is, we think, no in-between.

And it’s not that He can’t, or that He hasn’t. We can see time and again throughout history where God rescued those who seek Him, or where He has brought punishment on those who have purposefully hardened their hearts. (eek!)

But, “if we are conditioned to respond to noise and size, we will miss God’s word and action.”

I want to be conditioned to respond to God.

My heart seeks to hear what He says, no matter how quietly or how loudly… to see what He does, whether the struggle I’m facing is defeated with the bloody sweat of battle or the quiet breath of prayer.

It’s a matter of our perspective. What are your eyes open to see? Can God be a God of the details? Or can He only be a God of noise and size? Who is He in your everyday?

Or is He in your everyday? Is He only in your holidays? Is He only in your Christmas and Easter? Is He only in your daily life when you’re up against something you know may break you?

Are you touched momentarily by Something that feels familiar, that your heart knows is Something out of your ordinary? And then are you swept away by the noise and size of the world around you on Monday? When you step out of your car? The morning that comes after Christmas Eve?

God is an intimate God, an all-consuming God. He’s an always-meeting, an ever-faithful God. He’s a pursuing God. But our perspective limits our view.

What you see is what you have allowed your heart to see.

If, in your world, you feel you don’t ever see God intimately, don’t ever receive gifts from Him, are unsure of His heart or if you can fully hear His leading, I would ask what you’re looking for? Are you looking for noise and size? Or are you open to the small breath of prayer? Because when we refocus our perspective to notice the intimate, to focus on the everyday, those small breaths actually become quite loud in our hearts. When we condition ourselves to respond to details, we’ll realize we won’t be able to STOP responding to them. Because God is as much a God of the details as He is of the big picture. You can’t have the grandiose beauty of the latter without attending tirelessly to the former.

If, in your world, you know of God, but a God such as this sounds so foreign to you… then ask Him to show you who He really is. Look for the details. He will show up. Actually, He’s always been there… in the quietness that greets you when you close the door, in the smile from across the counter the other day when you realized you looked more stressed than you meant to, in that encouraging email that came when you least expected it, in the bird that paused and looked your way… it’s just a matter of your perspective.

And if you have read to here and are thinking me a simple-minded girl prone to foolishness and great imagination, then I congratulate you on still reading. And I wonder if you see the noise and size for what it is. Be careful of assuming something is the center when it is actually not the center at all.

Because history proves to us that noise and size have nothing to do with sustaining power. Its pages are littered with the rise and fall of rulers and politicians trying to have greater bravado, the loudest voice, the biggest impact. Who give us no rest from what’s pressing, what’s imminent, the latest and greatest solution to the world’s wrongs. We can get caught up in the never-ending swirl, whipped wildly around the farthest reaches of the non-stop whirlpool. Thinking we know where we’re at, thinking we’re at the center of what’s going on, thinking we’re rooted in what’s right… but only realizing too late in our years that our footing is never solid, is always slipping from one thing to the next.

At the center of it all is an Everyday God who desires relationship with us. Who reaches into our details and whispers for us to refocus our perspective. Who holds out His hand and calls to us to come stand on solid ground. “You don’t need to be whipped around wildly by this world! Come stand on My foundation. Come rest in the center.”

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me -- watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” ~Jesus, Matthew 11:28-30 (msg)

**Last photo lovingly stolen from Amber at Joyful Life Photography.**
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Tuesday, August 11, 2009

I would SO totally do this...

...but we just moved into a (glorious, lovely, breath-taking, perfect-for-us) rental, and I believe the owner's words were something like, "Paint the rooms anything you like, but we did do all the trim and doors glossy white. We really like that. So do whatever in the rooms, just leave the trim and doors how they are. Please."

Just LOOK at this beloved-ly perfect garage door project one of my fav-y-favorite bloggers, Thrifty Decor Chick, did. And SHE got the idea from even anOTHer blogger (Just a Girl). (Love all the bloggyness!)

I just would SO do this to our garage entryway door! I even have the guts and the gumption! It would be welcoming, and different, and would hide smudgy little finger prints the residents of our home at times leave on all things white.

I want to paint our barstools black, too. As it is I've recovered them with zebra print *thanks to a patient Father-in-law!* which is much better than tan something-or-other with the corners coming apart. Wait! Don't look at the many piles on our countertop! Or the paper on the floor that I didn't bother to pick up! Avert your eyes! Avert your eyes! Darn it. Now you know I'm not perfect and my house is still in MAJOR transition mode. Ugh.

Maybe I should just ask. I should just ask about the black paint. Of course, Nate really is tired of the painting and the still-in-transition-mode. So, maybe I should get settled first and THEN ask. (Hmm... something about getting settled first is ringing in my head. God? Did You say something about that recently?)

Hey, if any of you are debating a bold home project... GO FOR IT!!! You only live once, and paint is easy to re-do. Get the guts and gumption.

Now I'm going to get back to my decrapification, that is otherwise known as unpacking. (Thanks Sarah for the new word!)
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Monday, August 10, 2009

I am SO drooling right now

The beauty of footwear. It makes one's heart go pitter pat. Especially this one, by my fav, fav, FAVorite.



I can hear Stevie singing in my head right now. "Isn't she looovely. Isn't she won.der.ful..."

If you actually want to look at prices or whatnot, you can go to the site. But I really just wanted you to drool with me...

(...or remember that my birthday is coming up and I wear a 7 1/2 in Madden's. Hee-hee.)
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Saturday, August 8, 2009

I. Am. In. Awe.

Holy cow. God just gave me a laptop.

GOD JUST GAVE ME A LAPTOP!!! I'm sitting here composing this post on my new laptop that God just gave me.

Through my amazing friend.

He. Gave. Me. A. Laptop. I'm wondering if one of my love languages is gifts, because He gives me so many of them!!! (Really, I think my main one is acts of service, which can masquerade as just about anything.) There was this. And then this. And now I'm sitting here at my kitchen table in my lovely new home TYPING AWAY ON MY LAPTOP!!!

And it's a MAC, nonetheless. He. Blows. Me. Away.

I kind of don't want to give away ALL the details, because it's such a special story.

Except that it's me. And I can't help but spill. Because that's what I do. And God's just so cool.

So, this past Spring God told me quite clearly to do something in particular. Two somethings, actually. (Okay, so maybe I'm not going to spill ALL the details!) Our conversation went something like this:

God: "You need to _________."

Me: "Well, I would LOVE to. But we both know I'm short on time as it is."

God: "I also want you to _________."

Me: "Ummm. God, we BOTH know I don't have time for that. Especially if you want me to do the other thing!"

God: *That kind of silence that happens when He's just told you veeerrrryyyy clearly to do something and knows He does not need to repeat Himself because you got it the first time and the real issue is whether or not you're going to trust Him and be obedient.*

Me: "Well, fine. I'd love to do that, and I WILL do it... just as soon as you give me a laptop. Because you and I BOTH know I don't have time for EITHER of those unless I have some way to do them when I'm sitting at sports practices for hours on end. But we also both know Nate and I don't really have the finances to just go out and buy a laptop. So you're going to have to give me one. And it's going to have to be a Mac, because Nate won't allow one in our house that isn't a Mac. You made him that way, so if you have other plans, take that up with him. Alright then, just as soon as you give me a laptop, I'll get right on both of those things."

Shortly after this my friend and I were chatting about blogging and writing and whatnot, and somehow me wanting a laptop came up, and she (knowing nothing of my conversation with God) said she thought they may have one laying around not being used. Her daughter's old Mac iBook. She said she'd look for it, and I didn't think much more of our conversation...

...until a while later when she emailed that she'd found it. I thought, "Um, God? Are You maybe doing here with I think You may be doing here? *the quiet tick of my brain computing* Naaawww."

Then we got to Colorado, and my friend texted something about grabbing coffee and giving me some computer lessons. "God? Really? This can't be happening. Really? Is this happening? *tick, tick, tick,* Naaawww."

Then today we were at her house, and she was showing me what was what and how to run things on "your computer." I could not believe it! Holy cow!

And then we were leaving her house and she was waving goodbye and the computer was in my arms! And then we were driving away, and I stared at this laptop literally sitting atop my lap the whole way home! And now I'm sitting here at my kitchen table BLOGGING ON MY NEW MAC LAPTOP!!!!!!!

I guess I need to follow up with my side of the deal. Which I'm not telling you about. Because then you'll hold me accountable. And I already have GOD holding me accountable. I think He's enough for right now. If He needs your help, He'll tell you.

Trust me on that one.

If He wants you to do something, He'll tell you. And then He'll make a way for you to do it.

HE IS JUST SO INCREDIBLE LIKE THAT!!!

(My friend, thank you. You have opened a door that I didn't know was ever meant to be open for me. I'm not sure what this road holds, but you have enabled me to walk down it. Thank. You.)
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Friday, August 7, 2009

Me? Backwards?

So, I found this today: Stilettos and Diapers. Whaaaa? Crazy. Either we think an AWful lot alike... or she kind of took a cue from yours truly. (I mean, hers WAS only started this year. I'm just sayin...) She's a fashion girlie, too. You know what they say about great minds...

Changes for my beloved D&S are underway, I just need TIME to actually IMPLEMENT them!!! (And I need Amber to make me a super cute header. Yeah, Amber. You know what I'm talkin' 'bout!)
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Wednesday, August 5, 2009

O Beautiful, for spacious skies...

We went to the top of Pikes Peak yesterday. God's majesty displayed in His creation is truly breathtaking... literally. At 14,000 feet it can be darn hard to breathe!

It was amazing to look all around, to see the sun illuminating the fields of green below, then turn and watch lightning pierce the sky on the other side of the mountain. Clouds streaked down like cotton candy pulled from it's cone. It was all so glorious to see!

On our way up it rained for a bit. Then suddenly the kids all squealed (okay, I did, too) as it turned to snow! After three years in California, this was such a thrill! When we reached the top there was a beautiful rainbow.


(Conversations of Noah and arks and smelly animals and God's promises were prevalent.)




I was trying to get one of us with the rainbow in the background. (Yes, me with my mad hold-camera-at-arm's-length-and-hope-for-the-best skills.) If you look closely and squint you can catch a bit in the right hand corner! Maybe.


I told Taylor this picture captured his, as of late, oft stormy mood. I know. "Aww, mom..."


Family picture time!


Me and my luvah. (Can you hear that cheesy early 90's song right here?)


Leave it to my boys to find the snow... climb down to it... and bring back snowballs.


The end of the cog railway you can take up (for the small price of your first born child or right arm, which ever you'd prefer). The kids had a Wile E. Coyote moment.


Nate's parents have been here. What fun to experience something like this together!

For some history on Pikes Peak as it relates to one of our Nation's most beautiful (and one of my all-time favorite) songs, watch this video. Seriously. Watch it. It's short. And so worth it. (But stop the music at the bottom of the page before you click play!)
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Sunday, August 2, 2009

FREE! FREE! FREE!


If you've ever popped over to my music page and listened to my songs and liked any of them, well, you can have them!

If you've popped over to my music page and listened to my songs and haven't liked any of them, well, I'm not going to force them on you. =^)

Myspace doesn't have download capability right now. And evidently the music blaster thing-y (that's a technical term, by the way) that WAS on there isn't working. I've been wanting to give away my songs to whomever wanted them for a long time! But, evidently, it's hard for a small-time girl like me to do that.

SOOOOOO... leave me a comment here (make sure there's a valid email address so I can reach you), or email me at angelawhitemusic@comcast.net. You can have all of them or just a few. Simply tell me which ones! No strings attached. I'm not going to send you spam for the rest of your life. I'll just send you the mp3's. Then you can put them on your iPod or burn them to a cd or blast them from your car with your windows down or send them out to all your friends or bury them in your music files and never listen to them again. They're yours!!!

So go. Listen. Take. Be happy.
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Saturday, August 1, 2009

beauty in so many forms

In June we went to a wedding of two friends that was beautiful. In so many ways.

They are two beautiful people...

Who followed God's plan for courtship and marriage...

And submitted themselves to wise counsel...

And had a picturesque wedding...

With an adorable flower girl...

And smiles that are unforgettable...

And an amazing photographer to capture it all.

LeeAnn and I have had many girl chats over shoes and coffee and laughter. Garrett drummed for the worship team while I led at Church For Life. It was an honor to watch the process, to see the glow from the inside increase and become visible on the outside.

And it was an honor to be a part of that wonderful day in June that I never will forget.

I encourage you to go and see their photos. Relive your own joy through theirs... or grow anticipation for your own that is to come.

Beauty. In so many forms.
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Recently...

...we've been busy with a few things here in Colorado Springs.

Enjoying Fatburger, one of our favorites!


Moving into our new home.


Enjoying thundershowers! (Music to this native Oregonian's heart.)


Wading through boxes and boxes and more boxes.


Getting excited about gymnastics. (At the Olympic Training Center!)


Painting.


We're getting settled, slowly but surely. Boxes of things are turning into piles of things. Some emails are actually getting returned. A blog post is actually being written. And the wheel in the sky keeps on turnin'...
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