Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Oh, my wow...

There is a site.
It sends me emails about glorious things that are on sale.
Beautiful things.
Designer things.
Inspiring things.
And I go.
And I see.
And I drool.
And I get inspired.
Sometimes they are in my price range.
Often they are not.

Today they had Vera.
(When $4000 is marked down to $1000, it's still out of my price range.
But oh-so-drool-worthy.
And oh-so-inspiring.)

You can sign up to get the emails, too.
Go here.
And maybe some things will be in your price range and on your "need/want" list.
Like the American Apparel I ordered a few weeks ago.
Or maybe they won't, and you'll simply be inspired.

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Thursday, June 24, 2010


Desperation Conference.
Going on at New Life through Saturday.
And YOU can watch it online HERE.
(You can find the schedule here.)
So excited to worship with Kim Walker-Smith Friday morning and afternoon.
And Kari Jobe Friday night.
And Phil Wickham Saturday.
And Desperation Band.
And hear amazing speakers.
And awesome concerts. (Jared Anderson? Holla!)
Are you going to join me?
Click the link.
Watch online.
Be changed.

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Monday, June 21, 2010

A new kind of hamster dance

What everyone is laughing about in our house right now.

(Fyi, KJ-52 and John Reuben did a cover of this song that rocks.)

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Sunday, June 20, 2010

Thoughts on Relationship & Fathers

This is a repost.
I know it's a little long, but I think if you read it you'll find you'll be glad you did.
It was just on my mind this morning, with it being Father's Day.
Thanks, Dad.
For everything.
I love you.

Originally posted February 9th, 2009:
It's raining outside. I love the rain. It takes me back home. It makes the air fresh and clean. It washes everything.

When I was a little girl I loved spending time with my Dad. In one house, my sister and I would climb up the big evergreen tree in the backyard so we could catch a glimpse of his car on the main road, about to turn down ours. Then we'd scramble down fast as we could, trying to beat each other to the driveway to get hugs. In another house, we would wait out at end of the gravel road so we could see when his car first rounded the bend. There was always a thrill that Dad was finally home!

When he would come home from business trips Charity and I were so excited! Dad was home! Yay! He would always pull something special out of his suitcase for us. And if you ever visit my parent's house I think you will still see in the Princess Bedroom (Mom, am I wrong about this?) a collection of horses and unicorns and pegasus that Dad brought me from different trips to different cities. He was thinking of me while he was away, and that was a wonderful thing for my heart to know.

I remember the countless hours on the living room floor. Dad would lay there and pretend to be "dead." Charity and I squealed endlessly as we'd jump over his arms and legs, trying to get as close as we possibly could, but not let him get us if he became "alive" again.

Once in a great, great while we'd stay home from everything and have a "sick" day, which was really a family day, but everyone else thought we were sick. We'd pull the hide-a-bed out and just lay there as a family watching movies and playing games.

Or we'd sit out on the back porch drinking iced tea and listening to stories of Dad's childhood. Oh, we loved hearing about how he and Uncle Curt crashed down the hill and into the barbed wire fence. How he and his five siblings would stack mattresses beneath the second story window and jump out, run back up the stairs, and jump out again. How he tied Aunt Sandy's doll to the ceiling fan so it went round and round, and she cried and cried.

In high school it was wonderful when Dad surprised me every so often. He would come and sign me out for lunch, then we'd go someplace to eat and talk. I remember when the school told him he couldn't just come and sign me out anymore, something about him not having the authority to take me out of the learning day. Dad got furious. "How dare you tell me I can't take my own daughter out to lunch." He fought it. And they conceded. And they never questioned it again. It made me feel wonderful that I was so special to my dad that he would fight that hard just to spend time with me.

There was a summer he even let me play clarinet with him in the polka band for a few performances. Oh, that was so special! I remember going with him to some event that we had to drive a while to get to. I don't quite remember where it was or what we did or what we ate. But I remember that I got to go and be with my Dad. It was special.

Sometimes he would give me gifts, or take me fun places. But the point wasn't ever what I received from my Dad, the point was how wonderful it was to spend time with him... to have that relationship. He would sit and listen to me ramble on about the silly boys at school, or the silly boys at the pool, or the silly boys at camp. He always seemed to have these insights into these situations that seemed revolutionary to me. How did he know this stuff? Of course, the older I grew, the less I was willing to let on that I thought he was wise. There were times I would just shrug my shoulders and say, "Whatever." But, Dad cared. And he prayed. And he didn't give up. And that meant the world to me.

Because it wasn't about the gifts or the places we went or even the things we talked about. It was about spending time with my Dad. It was about just wanting to be with my Dad. Those things came along WITH our relationship, because he's my Dad, and a father wants to bless his child. So there were the horses and unicorns and pegasus and lunchtime trips and polka band trips and fri-jo's at the Scandinavian Festival and the family days and the sapphire earrings and necklace. And those were wonderful blessings. But the point was the relationship. I love my Dad. I love him.

I love my Heavenly Father. I love Jesus. I love Him. Our relationship isn't about the things He gives me, it's not about the blessings. He gives me those things because a Father wants to bless His child. But the point is the relationship. He loves to spend time with me, just listen to me. He loves to be with me, and He always seems to have these insights into my circumstances that seem revolutionary. He just knows these things. And, the older I grow, the more I am willing to let on that I think He is wise. He cares. He doesn't give up. That means the world to me.

Our relationship isn't about the blessings. It's about our relationship. If my relationship with my Dad were based on what he could give me, what kind of relationship would that be? If it were based on the horses and the unicorns and the jewelry and the trips and the lunches... if the only reason I wanted to spend time with my Dad was to get those things... that wouldn't be much of a genuine relationship at all.

If my relationship with God were based on only what He could give me, only on the blessings, that wouldn't be much of a relationship at all.

The blessing comes along with my Dad, but the point is my Dad. The blessing comes along with God, but the point is God. I'm not pursuing the blessing, I'm pursuing God.

The blessing would be if Ian were healed. The blessing would be if little baby Cora had beaten it. But the point isn't those things. The point is, will we still seek Him even if these things never come? Will we still seek Him even when these things don't come? Even if the blessing looks totally different than what we think it should look like... will we still seek Him?

"Open up the sky, fall down like rain,
We don't want blessings, we want You.
Open up the sky, fall down like fire,
We don't want anything but you."

Are you seeking the blessing, or are you seeking God?

(I love you, Dad. Thanks.)
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Thursday, June 17, 2010

Those days...

There are those days...

...sometimes not the entire day, but certain portions of the day...

...where I want to run to my favorite thrift store and just thumb through the racks,
hunting for great deals and hidden vintage gems.

I want to get lost in the array of possibilities.
I want to sort through piece by piece,
hangar by hangar.

Because, really, it's not just about the deals...
it's not just about a fun form of recycling...'s therapy.

And there are those days where I just want to go get lost in it, 
but can't at the moment.

And it would be running away from what's before me anyway.
But, isn't that okay if it's only temporary?
If it's just to gain my senses to some degree so I can deal with what's in front of me?

Then again, temporary escapism is only temporary...
but it's still escapism.

I over think too much.
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Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Weight Lifting at the White House

This is how we lift 'round these parts...

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Tuesday, June 15, 2010

14 years and counting...

You're the laughter in my day.
The voice when I've lost mine.
The reminder when I tend to forget.

I love that, when we're driving both cars and we pull up to the gas station, you pump the gas for both while I just sit.

I love waking slightly in the middle of the night and feeling your hand lightly touching my skin as you sleep.

I love that you're not surprised by the dreams I know God is calling me to, even when I'm blown away.

And I love that you walk nonchalantly and confidently with me toward them... when I'm skipping and giggling and wide-eyed.

I love that you're the one the personality and strength tests say I need to be paired with...
and that we were paired together long before I knew those tests existed.

I love that you stand for what's right and others' opinions don't matter...
except mine.

I love that you already know what song I'm about to burst into even before I start...
even in the middle of service on Sunday mornings.

It seems so long ago that I walked down the aisle in complete disbelief that you were actually going to marry me... that you wanted to marry me.
It seems like those were different people.
I thought I loved you so much then, that I couldn't possibly love you more.
Now I'm amazed at what we've gone through, where we're at, how much more I love you today then back then.
And I wonder what the next 14... or 50... years will bring.
I'm so glad to be growing old with you.

I love you.
Happy Anniversary.

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Sunday, June 13, 2010

How to Save a Life

Interesting read. Makes me think, and tear up a bit...

...and think of this:

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Thursday, June 10, 2010

Dear Blog,

I love you,
and I miss you.

But my hubby is finally home, which is lovely.
Life is good.
I'm me again.
And there's snuggling to get caught up on.

And the kids are out of school,
which is mostly lovely,
but sometimes not.
But, mostly.

And it's summer.
And flowers need watering,
and the yard needs trimming,
and there's sitting in the sun to be done.

But, I do have a yellow legal pad here with bloggy ideas on it.
And the laptop we got for Nate to take with him is now back.
And it's officially mine.
Like, it has a pink cover... which makes it official.
Which means when I'm doing gym runs and whatnot I may get those bloggy ideas onto here.

Because I do love you.
And I do miss you.
And you are in my thoughts.
But life is so often life, and this has been one of those weeks where it's full and lovely and leaves little room for you.

But, soon.

Your Affectionate Author
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Wednesday, June 2, 2010

The Greatness of Kids

Today was Jordan's 5th grade graduation.
All the usual stuff was happening.
The principal spoke, then class by class they got up and stood at the far wall for their names to be called so they could shake hands and get their graduation certificate.
Each grade stood and waited.
Everyone's name was called.
There was clapping, a few hoots and hollers from family members.
The line was almost through.

Then one name in particular was called
and all of those 5th grade kids erupted into the loudest cheers and yells. 
So much clapping and woo-hooing.
I looked at the boy crossing the front of the gym.
He didn't seem any different from the other kids,
except that he got a little confused about where to walk.
His teacher gave him a huge side hug and then had to direct him where the aisle was to get back to his seat.
And walking all down that aisle kids were giving him hi-fives and patting him on the back.
Still cheering.

Then I realized, this was the special education boy Jordan had told me about.
He sees you but doesn't really see you.
If he doesn't know you he'll ignore you.
He had to work really hard.
But, he was in a normal class with the other kids,
working really hard just like they did.

And it was so wonderful to see the camaraderie, to see how proud the entire 5th grade was of this boy...
to see that slight smile at the corner of his lips as he hi-fived some of his classmates
and seemed to not see the others.

I know that teasing and cruelty exist.
But, they didn't today.
And that those who are a little more challenged in our society can be seemingly ignored.
But not today.

Today I saw the greatness of kids.
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