For Alex, Anna & Thomas

Dear Alex, Anna and Thomas:

I remember riding in the car with your Uncle Steve the summer before I was heading to college. He looked at me, his naïve little sister, and said something important.

"When you get to college, there are going to be people who do things in front of you that will shock you. There will be people who admit to doing things that are against everything you believe in. It doesn't make them bad people. It just makes them people who've done things."

He proceeded to list some of the things he'd seen, some of the things he'd done, some of the things that people had told him. And then he told me something else. He said that when he got done with his first year of college he went home and thanked Mom and Dad, telling them, "I may not have always chosen to do the right thing, but at least I always knew right from wrong. That's a lot more than some other kids at college had."

Those two things impacted me more than I can tell you. Because I got out of that car knowing that I did know right from wrong and I could choose right regardless of what everyone else chose, and I knew that I could love people even when they chose wrong.

That they were more than their mistakes.

Just like you will always be more than your mistakes. You will always be loved by me for exactly who you are at any given moment. And I will always be a safe place to turn if you need one.

I have been blessed in my life to have friends from so many different walks of life. I have friends who are so like me I can't believe we're not twins, and I have friends who are so different from me that people don't understand how we can have any kind of relationship. And I love them all the same because every one of them has brought a richness to my life.

So I wanted to write this down as you three start college classes this week. I wanted a place where you could come and read the wise words your Uncle Hoody said to me, because it served me well in college and in all the years of relationships afterward.

Because that's what life is, guys... a series of relationships that shape us and others in profound ways.

Know that while you will learn a lot in college classes and you will shape your future and get your degree, some of the greatest lessons you'll learn in college boil down to this: Be who you are and don't compromise yourself for anyone. But don't shut anyone out just because they are different. Love them. Listen to them. Meet them where they are at and be who God meant you to be ... an extension of Him in the lives of those around you.

And have a lot fun while you do it.

And don't forget your Aunt Sara is here if you need her. For anything. Any time.

I love you. All the way around the world and back.

Flashback Friday: Soul Desire

I have the privilege of "being" at my Uncle Barney's funeral today as he asked that some of my songs be played instead of having a choir sing. I can't tell you how much it means to me that he would want that, and that it's still possible I can give to him in that small way today despite not being able to travel home.

So today, in honor of him, I'm doing a Flashback Friday with a song that speaks to me about the way I want to live out my life.

The same way Barney lived his.

My Soul Desire
{originally posted April 17, 2009}

Tonight I had the girls over for our faith sharing night, and this paragraph from Max Lucado's Traveling Light struck me in a big way:

God hates arrogance. He hates arrogance because we haven't done anything to be arrogant about. Do art critics give awards to the canvas? Is there a Pulitzer for ink? Can you imagine a scalpel growing smug after a successful heart transplant? Of course not. They are only tools, so they get no credit for the accomplishments.

Now, at some point in the discussion I think Susie called me a tool, and didn't mean it in the nicest way, but that's not the point I'm trying to make here. :) In every part of the 23rd Psalm, which this book is based on, it talks about all God does for us:

"He makes me..."

"He leads me..."

"He restores my soul..."

And once again I am reminded that I need to be mindful of having a servant's heart. I have to be intentional in all the actions I take, knowing that all I do needs to point back to Him... the One who gets the praise for writing the story of our lives. The story for which I am blessed enough to be the ink.

And I just happen to have recorded a song back in the day that reminds me of just that.

01 My Soul Desire by gitzengirl

(in)courage: overwhelmed.

Hi, friends.

I'm doing my monthly post over at (in)courage today and I would love for you to go over there to read and join in the conversation, but I also have a favor to ask.

My Uncle Barney, who I mentioned in this post, passed away on Monday night and the funeral will be later this week.

My dad came from a big family, he was one of nine children, and until he died they had never experienced a loss in that immediate family. In the past thirteen months we have lost my Dad, my Grandpa Gerald and now my Uncle Barney. If you would say some extra prayers for my family, especially Grandma Rita, as well as Barney's wife Mickey and their kids Cory, Travis, Cristin and Libby, it would mean a lot to me.

I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that all of this was written by God's hand and arranged with His loving embrace, but I know from the past year that it doesn't seem to make the missing them part any simpler. I so appreciate your prayers as all who loved Barney walk that road.

::

Click here to read my post over at (in)courage today: Overwhelmed.

Gitz Bits: Week 32

Monday, August 8, 2011

Monday was my parents' 47th wedding anniversary, so I thought taking a snapshot of their wedding photo was fitting.

Their wedding cake had tiny little figurines on it that looked like the bride and groom, as well as groomsmen and bridesmaids that were in matching blue dresses and veils.

You can imagine how happy I was to find that box in the closet when I was a little girl… they were way more fun to play with than Barbies as far as I was concerned.  

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

I think I already showed you guys the "JOY" blocks I have in my curio cabinet, so I wanted to show you the ones that spell out HOPE as well. Because we can all use a little hope in our day, can't we? :)

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

And this shot is the definition of hope from Riley's perspective.

I have a bit of an addiction to Sweetarts and Starbursts, and when a stray one is left on the table by my bed, Riley often does this look of unrequited longing.

Poor guy. He's disappointed every time.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

This is a public service announcement to all of you who may be wondering what to do with all of those tomatoes in your gardens.

If you are not slicing them up and dousing them with sugar, then you are doing the wrong thing.

Friday, August 12, 2011

I know Susie is probably less thrilled to be going back to work than I am for her to be there. But her being at work means she's now closer to Sonic, which means my fridge will look like this more often.

I know, I'm a selfish, selfish friend. :)

Saturday, August 13, 2011

Look! I've gotten really good at growing grass in my flower garden. Aren't you impressed with me?!?! I'm a total green thumb. 

Sunday, August 14, 2011

So, one of my readers, Donna, sent me this as a surprise package months ago and I felt so bad to have to tell her that it never arrived. But then I thought to have someone check my mailbox in case the mailman forgot and left mail in there instead of in my basket by the door.

And lo and behold… it was there! Can you stand it? If you look closely it not only says "Choose Joy" but it has Riley stamped onto the center stone. Which is fitting, because we all know that Riley is the center of the universe around here. :)

Thanks for once again sharing my week with me! Click on the button below if you want to go to Jessica’s site and check out the other participants showing off their weekly photos as well:

Sweet Mariela.

I'm a girl who considers the idea of vacations to include things like hotels and room service, and I wouldn't mind a spa on premises, if we're getting technical.

Granted, I never went on vacation anywhere that actually had a spa on the premises, but in my mind it seemed like something I would enjoy.

A lot.

So I probably wouldn't be the first one to come to mind when people think missionary. And to be honest it was never on my radar growing up simply because it wasn't something I was exposed to. I remember Fr. Nash, whom my family loved, leaving to go to Africa and become a missionary when I was younger, but all I really knew about it was that he was leaving and we threw him a party and I would miss him not stopping by the house.

The limited sight of a child, you know.

It never affected my life until I was in college and my Aunt Janella, who worked at the college I attended and whom I treasured, decided to learn a new language and travel to Bolivia to serve the people.

It overwhelmed me to think of all she was leaving. It overwhelmed me to imagine the things she would see and the conditions in which she would learn to live. And it overwhelmed me with pride to know she was willing to do that – no, was excited to do that – simply because she felt called.

What overwhelmed me the most was that my eyes were finally opened up to a world beyond my doors. To a world of poverty and need and conditions about which my mind was oblivious. And because I got to hear the stories from Janella's perspective, I learned that these were not just faces and statistics on the evening news.

Bolivia was filled with mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters who love just like we love. Who hurt just like we hurt. And who hope for things that we take for granted in the simplest of moments.

After that, although time made it very clear my life would never allow it, I would wonder if that would ever be my calling. If I would ever have the chance to go and be the hands and feet of Christ in that way. If I would ever kneel down and face a child on a dirt road and gaze into eyes that were filled with a story far beyond their years. If I would ever be able to help.

So you can imagine what came over me when Matthew sent me the videos of him meeting my sweet Mariela, the girl he and Jessica allowed me to choose for them to sponsor in my name. I chose her picture, her story. I wrote her a letter and sent her photos and Jessica helped me shop for gifts for her in preparation for Matthew's mission trip.

My heart was already full of prayers for her and excitement over corresponding with her.

But then I saw her sweet smile.

Her shy nature.

The way she took in my story and felt the words in an understanding beyond her years.

The way she looked at the camera when she realized that's where I was, seeing her.

This child has already changed me more than I will ever affect her, I'm sure of it. Because now my world stretches beyond these walls all the way to Bolivia.

{Mariela's message to me}

{Matthew first meeting Mariela}

If you want to help a community better support each other, a family learn trades to earn income, a child to go to school and have the chance to educate themselves into a better future, consider looking into World Vision. They not only help communities, they set the goal of only having to be in a community for 15 years… at which time the community can run all the services for themselves. It's not just helping a child, it's providing a future for an entire village and the generations that will come.

Because not all of us can go be missionaries.

But that doesn't mean we aren't called to a mission.

5 minutes: beauty

Today I'm linking up to Lisa-Jo, aka gypsy mama, who chooses a topic every Friday and writes for five minutes.

Only five minutes.

And the rule is that whatever she writes about in that five minutes is what she posts. No editing her thoughts.

Today, her topic choice is "Beauty…"

So I'm going to set the timer, write some thoughts, and then I'm going to stop.

Ready? Set. Go.

:::

Beauty has always been a tough subject for me, mostly because for so many years I didn't see what others did when they looked at me.

It's taken me a lot of years to finally really believe that. That what I saw when I looked in the mirror was distorted. The girl who was once 83 pounds and saw fat and ugly in the mirror… that girl didn't see what was really there. But it took until now for me to really realize it.

It took Cushing's - ugly, mean and cruel Cushing's -for me to know that even when I do look in the mirror and see my worst nightmare that I won't break.

I had gained 70 pounds in a short four months. I stretched and pulled in deformed ways. I looked in the mirror every day and couldn't even see my own self in my eyes anymore and I realized that's what I had always done… looked in a mirror not recognizing who was there.

And just like I had no control over gaining it, I've had no control over losing it. I have spent the last year so sick that I lost all of that weight and then some. And now I look in the mirror and I see someone I recognize. But I see more than just me.

I see the real me.

Not the me I was afraid of at 15, and not the one I was searching for a year ago. I see the me with the off-color of illness in my skin and the sometimes red blotchiness of flash rashes and the Cushing's striations on my body that will never leave and still sometimes hurt to touch and I'm not afraid of any of it.

They are my marks of survival.

Friends come and I put on the foundation and I apply the mascara, but it's more so they aren't scared and they don't worry about how sick I am.

For me now, on normal days when I am bare faced and facing the day, I just look in the mirror and see someone who is still surviving and living through it. And there is beauty in that. In surviving.

I get that now.

Thought for the Day...

When I first walked through the doors to my new job, I didn't care about anything except that I got that job. The one that made me a writer.

I was at a magazine and I was going to write {eventually}. I started out as low man on the totem pole. I was an administrative assistant to the editor and in the first week I had that man's office reorganized, color coded, and his stack of articles edited and reformatted.

I'm pretty sure he gave me a writing assignment just to get me out of his hair.

So there I was, working for a trade publication about call centers - knowing nothing about the industry -about to do my first official interview for my first official article. And to be honest, I didn't care about the industry at all. Predictive dialers might as well have been calculus for how much I enjoyed reading about them.

But I called my first interviewee and learned something invaluable: It doesn't matter if I know about the subject matter, or if it interests me. I just need to care about the people.

Because that man I interviewed? He was mad about the industry. He was jazzed about predictive dialers. All I had to do was ask him a question and from there on out it was about the conversation. About learning from someone who was thrilled to teach. About adapting my own priorities into caring about his. 

Suddenly it wasn't about trudging through an interview about the most boring subject on earth to me, it was about investing in a man who had a story to tell. And I had the ability to tell it.

In a time when every self help book I read talked about finding groups of like-minded people to further your goals, and being true to who you are over who others may want you to be, I found the opposite to be true. I found that if I went into every situation caring more about what was important to the other person, then who I was grew ten fold.

I learned that it was all about the person, and in order to care about the person I needed to choose to care about what was important to them, and make it important to me.

I was thinking about this because you all saw this photo and said you weren't sure who was more the kid, me or Elias:

And the truth is that I couldn't have cared less about a car zooming off the bed. But I cared that Elias did. His interest became my interest and his excitement became my excitement, and before I knew it I was filled up with contagious joy.

We all do that for children. Imagine if we did that for other adults as well.

Imagine if we cared more about them feeling happy than us feeling right.

Imagine if we cared more about them feeling known than us feeling superior.

Imagine if we cared more about them feeling accepted than us feeling righteous.

Imagine if we cared more about them feeling joy than us feeling envy.

Imagine if we cared more about them feeling abundance than us feeling security.

Maybe sometimes it's not so much about being who we are at all costs. Maybe sometimes it's about letting go of who we are to see who we might become.

Just something to think about.