Tiny Flecks of Color

I woke up this morning...
dragged my congested, coughing, achy body out of bed...
stumbled into the bathroom...
burned out my cornea by flipping on the light (yeah... even the sun isn't up until at least 7:30)...
sat down and was greeted by this...

Or the stool... if you're Mr. Bean's grandpa (I love it when older folks use cute terms for things). Or the john... if you're my Grandma. Or the crapper... if you're Julia. Or the porcelain god... if you are a drunk college freshman. Or the loo... if you are polite and British and possibly Joanne Frost (Supernanny) whom I love. Or the can... if you're... well I don't know anyone who refers to that but whatever. WHATEVER you call the depository for human excrement... this is what it looks like from mine.

Yes. I have a calendar hanging next to my toilet. So does my mother. I'm pretty sure my grandma does too. It may be hereditary.

The first thing I do when I wake up is use the bathroom. In that case, the first thing I read is whose birthday/anniversary/Saint day it is... (my grandma makes these calendars for everyone...they are Catholic calendars. I will never miss a feast day.) So while cards may be late... or non-existent... know that if you are on the calendar you are thought of.

Moving on.

As you can see... the toilet paper roll is empty. EMPTY! Where has all the toilet paper gone? I'll show you...
Now why, why oh why oh why oh WHY? Would the toilet paper be sitting on the edge of the tub.

I would say that in general I am a rational human being. I will also say that I realize that I more than likely use more toilet paper than Mr. Bean. I will also admit that I am currently out of my normal mental state due to sinusitis, antibiotics, and cough syrup. Read about that adventure here. I would further like to state that I have changed the roll for AT LEAST the last 3 new rolls.

The toilet paper dispenser has been empty since Monday. I for the first time in a LONG time did not use the last sheet. However, when I returned home from school this is the exact scene I was welcomed with. Over the past three days the TP has moved places a few time (we don't want it to get wet when we shower) but miraculously it has not yet found its way onto the holder.

It's not a problem to change it. It isn't hard. But its a matter of principle. It's toilet paper for goodness sake!

Sigh.

Why do I have to do EVERYTHING around here?! Well I am not going to succumb to the pressure of the paper! I will NOT put the paper in the holder. 



I suppose if this is the worst thing we passive aggressively argue about then we'll be just fine. We are set for life.. Not a big deal...
The toilet paper just won't be on the holder.
Ever.

Some things may not be able to be put into words...

I have been waiting just about a week to blog about the miracle I was given the opportunity to witness last weekend. But maybe I should go back about 11 months.

These are my dear friends...


One night on a retreat we each sat in the adoration chapel and prayed and prayed. That night as we got into our "honeymoon suite" a blow up mattress we've often shared together on various adventures we whispered in the dark what we prayed for... without knowing we shared a common request that she be a blessed with a baby.

Throughout the time period of Lent, Julia and her students had been participating in a program called The H2O Project. She had gone 40 days of only drinking water... a pretty big feat for a soda/juice/anything with flavor lover like herself. The weekend of Easter had arrived. Mr. Bean and I had planned to relax and stay in our area for the holiday and not go crazy trying to visit relatives. Julia and her husband's relatives are all local so a holiday get together seemed in store for the four friends. Of course this may or may not have had the intention of partaking in the "sacrament" (as my brother likes to put it) in celebration of the Risen Lord. As Julia and I shopped and talked about plans for the evening as well as happenings of life, she mused about not having yet been visited by her Aunt Flo yet that month. Immediately I of course spun into the head in the clouds, party planning, excitedly anticipating possibly squealing female that I can be... She needed to take a pregnancy test to be sure - BEFORE we carried out our planned festivities for the evening.

The test was bought with a lot of prodding and much anticipation of another let down. As I ushered Julia into the tiny bathroom of my one bedroom apartment, I started kicking myself wondering what I would say to make her feel better about the single faint line that would appear in that little window. This had been my idea... I'm in deep now. Suddenly my thoughts were broken by a shaky voice laden with anticipation and hope - on the verge of major freak out. "Annie!" was all Julia could say. Positive. It was positive.

December felt like an eternity away. Julia hardly broke the triple digits on the scale BEFORE she was pregnant, so by her final trimester you probably would have guessed she was only 6 months along. Even though I know she was uncomfortable and probably didn't (wont) believe me - she was beautiful. And I, I was astounded, excited and honored to be asked to accompany the party to the delivery room when it was time. The couple could only agree on a male name... so when the ultrasound was marked with "I'm a boy!" it was yet another dream come true. November was filled with last minute work in preparation for maternity leave and prayers from the soon-to-be great grandma for a speedy labor.

Somehow nine months sprinted by us. December came without snow but with much anticipation for the new little man. Julia was one day late and drained of all patience for her pregnancy. I was jolted out of sleep by the ringing of my phone. Groggily I answered, "Are you in labor?" - the only real excuse for waking me up - "They said my water wouldn't break, but it broke. I don't know what to do." Apparently it isn’t all that common for a woman's water to break... but hers had! I told her to rest while she could but let me know when t was time to go. 15 minutes later the jingle of my phone alerted me to the news that

"Contractions are about 5 minutes apart".

"That's crazy!" I said, “Is Mike up?"

"He's driving me nuts already..."

More was said, but expletives may or may not prevent me from sharing them with you. Texts end at 2:29am when they came to pick me up.

To be honest, I had no idea what to expect. I've never seen anything be born... not even an animal. I didn't even have to watch the stereotypical video in health class. What was I in for?

I was in for the opportunity to watch a woman do the incredible.

After being in the hospital only 8 hours little dude was born. I saw it happen! I kind of helped I guess though most of the time I was fighting tears and probably getting in the way. The hospital room was fairly quiet as I counted to ten. Mike and I stole shocked glances at each other over his wife's belly. Julia was a champion pushing (both figuratively and literally) through all the exhaustion and pain. And then...
 



She just looked at him with this look of wonder and amazement. And he?

He just stared at her.

I have never EVER witnessed something so amazing in my entire life. Julia and her son have given me a gift they cannot imagine. I am completely changed. I am inspired by her strength. I am moved by the miracle that he is. And I cannot help but think of all the prayer that has been answered in one tiny little human. I guess it's just breathtaking to step back and see the work of God that was put into motion (as we can see) just about a year ago... and really, all the little pieces that we don’t even know about... it's just awesome.

Today as I was listening to the radio on the way to work, and the radio personalities were joking about myspace and how it is so "OUT" now. No one goes on myspace. It's all about facebook, right? But this peaked my curiosity. I used to have a myspace. OK, well I still do but I probably haven't been on it since... 2007? Maybe? So I wanted to go on and check out old posts. Isn't it funny to look back on old things you wrote? Old journals, or blogs, or letters. I love doing that. Normally, I like to see what changed. How prayers were answered. Laugh at "terrible" situations that I thought I would "never make it through" and see just how trivial it all actually was.

So I read old blog posts off my MySpace.

One of particular interest and a good lesson for me to remember:

Saturday, June 24, 2006
For those of you who don't know, Chris' Uncle Kurt passes away Thursday. We had kept getting calls saying that he was getting worse and Chris was going to go up there to visit right after the wedding. Then Thursday his aunt called and said it was bad and that Kurt wouldn't last more than two days. So he left immediately. 6 hours later he was in DesMoines and only about an hour later Kurt passed away.
I've never met this man, and yet somehow I am really effected by his death. He had battled cancer for a few years (if I understand correctly) and its just so ridiculously sad. I mean, the man when through hell and now he has left behind 4 kids. The oldest is only 19. I have just randomly started crying about 4 times already just thinking about the kind of torture that must be. And I just think about losing my parents, or my brother or sister, or someday my husband or son... I have only faced death a few times in my life, and maybe I was too young to understand but I am just really thinking about the awfulness of it all...

of course I made it all better by watching a channel 11 show on Thursday night about kids with cancer or leukemia and things like that... and it just makes me sick to think of the things we all have to face in life. And I wonder what I will have to face. I make Chris promise over and over again not to get cancer, to take care of his diabetes... and I know that some of those promises are illogical, but its just I never ever want to lose him...God... if I ever lost him. Or my family. I would want to die...seriously. It would break me.
so I guess I want to take the advice the woman who gave the message in church today was talking about... I don't want to save my happiness, or my fortune, or my spirituality until I need it...because I need it now. We all do... you know? Every day we have to prepare for the next...and so we need to live, and live smartly, and live happily. We don't have time to wrap ourselves up in hurt, or anger, or sorrow. We don't have time to take care of ourselves tomorrow... because tomorrow never comes. I'm not saying emotions should be disregarded or whatever. But I mean, oh lord I don't know what I mean. I guess I mean, take every moment, every feeling...and LIVE it, feel it...and just do it... (thank you Nike)...but really just go and do it.

I work as the coordinator of youth ministry for two catholic churches. I love my job. Seriously. I love the teens. I love middle school students. They are just so much fun. And when you work with something as tricky, and fun, and surprising, and hard, and mysterious as faith... amazing things happen all the time. I love it. I love seeing the development of a relationship with the divine between these teens and God. I love their questions, and attention spans (even as short as they are), and their wonder.

That being said. I am also a student. I am getting an equivalency degree in music therapy. As a student I have to complete semester long practicums. This semester I am in a special education classroom in the high school. It is just as challenging as it is rewarding. I am humbled, bewildered, overwhelmed, and thrilled all at the same time. Its an awesome experience.

This past week's practicum session... was a gift from God.

The whole session was a whirlwind. We tried a whole bunch of new activities. I was playing the piano, leading singing, playing tone chimes, directing discussion, and tossing balls. Almost all at the same time. BUT most importantly I was given the opportunity to work closely with the most difficult client. No. Not the behavior disorder client. No. Not the client who doesn't want to participate. I worked with K. Client K... sits confined in a wheelchair. He is hooked up to a feeding tube and monitors. He only moves his left hand. When asked how we know if he likes something or not, the aides informed us that we just assume he likes something until he gets upset and indicates that he doesn't.

Great.

That's scary.

Oh and the first time we ever worked in the group I asked an aide to see if she could have him participate in an activity. As I handed her a maraca... she said, "Oh he's having a seizure right now..."

Great.

I will fully admit that I am a little nervous when working with clients with profound disabilities. NOT necessarily because of them, or their condition, but rather because I have to work in front of their aides. I am afraid of doing something wrong and making the aides mad or looking like an idiot. On the other hand, I was getting a little frustrated because the aides were not doing what I wanted them to do for a client. SO! Today, I had a chance to work one on one with Client K during an activity. I asked the aides for reinforcement of what I was doing... but I also just went for it! And He responded! Positively!! He scratched at the tambourine, he quieted down from the vocalizations he had been making earlier, and he did not make any indications that he was unhappy. When we played the guitar right up next to him, he exploded in laughter! It was absolutely amazing. I had not expected that. In a million years. He placed his hand on the guitar while we helped the other hand strum the guitar strings.

Probably what impacted me most, is that while we were playing the tambourine together. Just me and Client K, singing "We will rock you" with a tambourine... he turned his head and looked straight at me. We had eye contact for about 2 whole minutes. He just stared at me. And I just did whatever I could to look like I was thrilled to be there with him. To have the brightest affect, the happiest smile, the most welcoming and caring look.

Part of me wonders if there was anything going through his mind. I might daydream that He somehow knows whats going on around him, and that I made a difference on a mundane Tuesday afternoon at school... or, maybe there is nothing. Maybe there will never be anything...

But no matter what I did to change a moment in his life, He changed my life in one moment.


I think I am going to love this job.

How do you blog to inspire, or maybe just get people thinking about the wonder of the holy surrounding them, when you yourself are uninspired? When your spirit feels broken, and your eyes know better how to cry than smile? Obviously it's been hard. And again my guilt and the "should" statements start and torment me with the overwhelming fact that is has been so terribly long since I've blogged.

It's a hard place that I am in. Physically. Where I am... I feel very alone. Of course I have an amazing husband, and a sweet little pup. I have people who I can smile and say "hello" to. And there are even a small number of people who can even cross the barrier to give a hug. There are amazing friendships and relationships that have blossomed in the past 4 years. There are children who have stolen my heart, teens who I would do anything for, and people who I call a dear friends.

But there is a lot of quiet. Literally, my husband is an actor. His schedule is often the opposite of my class/work schedule. Often I find myself home alone with the silence.
There There are those who don't make eye contact. Conflicts that break my heart, torture my spirit. I play mind games with myself, allowing scenarios to spin around my head until I am dizzy with exhaustion.

I have come to the conclusion... that I was put here (my current living space) to learn humility and quietness. I've gotten much quieter since I moved here. I listen more. I'm not quite so say-the-first-thing-that-comes-to-your-mind like. I've learned to stand up for myself and at the same time let things roll off my back. To understand really what it is to feel alone. To feel the real suffocating blanket of depression. Thanks God. I got it. Let me know what you want me to do with it.I am STILL learning not to dwell on people or situations that seem impossible but to love them for what they are and let them go. I think God wanted to make sure I understood these things to make sure my skin got a little tougher. To learn who it is that I can truly trust. To learn to hold my tongue, to count my blessings, to realize what... WHO... is really important. To get my priorities straight and to not only have a clear vision for life but to listen to God's plan.

The weekend was amazing. Not laborious by any means (except for 10 hours in a car)... but in general so absolutely perfect that I cannot describe. This weekend... was exactly the respite I needed. God was just loving on me. Maybe rewarding me (I'd like to think of it that way) for surviving all I had been through. I could feel it in the air that filled my lungs, the arms of my Mom...my Dad... Aunt, Uncle, cousins that held me. I could hear it in the crashing of the waves, the laughter of children. There is nothing like being around kids to feel important. Upon my arrival it was, "I want to be on Annie's team" "I want Annie as my partner" "I want to spend the night at Camp Annie" "Will you take me to the beach?" "Push me on the tire swing?" "Take me in the water?"... No. It isn't annoying. I want to do all those things and more. I want to love people who want to love me in return. Is it easy? Yes. Do I still need to love those who are hard to love? Of course. But this weekend, being surrounded by people who made it easy to love and be loved was a nice break.

Today, being back in the office...trying to ward of the overwhelming oppression of the "real world" and get back into the swing of things... I open up a devotional. The reflection word? Relics. Hee hee hee... this is the 4th time in the past month of owning this book that I have had a blatantly obvious God moment come to me through the words.

Relics might be creepy when we're talking about parts of saints bodies. I remember the first church my family was a part of... where I made my first communion and was an altar server... had the knuckle of a saint in the altar. Gross! Sacred Heart (where I work now) has a whole bunch... and of course having spent time in Italy, I've seen tons! (my favorite is Galileo's middle finger) However, as the book explained, we all keep relics. Maybe grandmas ring or a flower from a boyfriend. Relics help us remember loved ones even after they died. They keep us connected to the person but also remind us of the hope of reunion in heaven. Relics of a saint give us hope to share eternal life with them.

The reflection question: What relics do you treasure? When you look at something that belongs to someone you love - pray for them and then say "thank you"! “Never lose an opportunity of seeing anything that is beautiful; for beauty is God's handwriting - a wayside sacrament. Welcome it in every fair face, in every fair sky, in every fair flower, and thank God for it as a cup of blessing.” - Ralph Waldo Emerson



I am a knick knacky person. Our apartment has all sorts of things sitting around on bookshelves and end tables. Everything hanging on our walls has a story. So, here are a few of my relics. The things that remind me of the gifts God has given me... the angels placed in my life. And I encourage you to think about what you are holding onto, what it means, who it reminds you of, and ultimately the creator that put them in your life.

1. my engagement ring. Its perfect and beautiful and obviously extremely important to me. It's a pearl, Chris' birthstone. Its meaning: loyalty, faithfulness and friendship. A pearl is made by an oyster when something is irritating it. When I look at it, I am reminded of Christopher. I am reminded that even in the tough times we are creating something spectacular. A life together that will take a long time to make but will end up as beautiful as this pearl. I am reminded of the effort he went through to give it to me. The fact that it was made here in the Mississippi - the place where we met, where we live, what brought us together. My engagement ring makes me pray in thanksgiving for the gift that he is to me, pray for his protection and care, and a prayer to better myself to be patient, understanding and not let the irritating things get in the way of our love.

2. The artwork from my mom I got for Christmas. It is lyrics to potentially the first song I ever knew. Its the same song that played in a musical lamp she made for me when I was a child. She is amazing. When I look at the piece I think of her. But I also think of the lyrics and then think of my brother and sister... my dearest friends. I pray in thanksgiving for the family I was blessed with... the MMACK team, the toughest club to get into. I am eternally grateful, because they made me who I am. I pray for C & K, that we remain as close as we are for the rest of our lives.

3. Pottery made by one of my closest friends, Alexis. It's hard to explain... I can only say she's my soul sister. The person who understands me, who I look up to and learn from, and who I admire and love intensely. Looking at her skill (and I only get the "throw away" pieces) I think of the beauty she's brought to my life. I think about when we met, the adventures we've been on. I am blessed to have her in my life. I pray for her happiness. I pray that I am as good of a friend to her as she is to me. And then I pray for all my friends... people who I always want to get to know better, or keep in touch with. People who are there with me day in and out. People who I've drifted apart from. I pray that I left footprints of love and compassion in their life journey. I pray that I was an example of God's love and I pray for forgiveness if I wasn't.

 4. My hope chest, a photograph of a sunflower, a (very) early baby present packed away, a miss piggy picture frame, a necklace, some books, and more... my extended family. Aunts and Uncles, Grandparents, In-laws, Friends-of-the-family-who've-known-me-since-birth, all the people who have loved me and given more than they ever had to take care of me. I pray that I can someday pay it forward. To my cousins, to my nieces and nephews, to my friends' children, to my grandchildren... I want to live up to the high standard that was set on loving me.

5. And then there's this...

and I cant say anything more. Seriously. God put this monster in my life... She's both an amusement, a terror, and a little fur ball of love that I could not imagine living without. I like the way she smells, the way wiggles her butt when she walks, the way she's so sassy/stubborn and the way she howls.

How can you feel bad when she greets you at the door like you're the best person in the world?

A song that has me thinking... from the musical The Fantastics
Try to remember when life was so tender

That no one wept except the willow.
Try to remember when life was so tender
That dreams were kept beside your pillow.
Try to remember when life was so tender
That love was an ember about to billow.
Try to remember, and if you remember,
Then follow.

Deep in December, it's nice to remember,

Although you know the snow will follow.
Deep in December, it's nice to remember,
Without a hurt the heart is hollow.
Deep in December, it's nice to remember,
The fire of September that made us mellow.
Deep in December, our hearts should remember
And follow.

I want to be a blogger. I want to be someone people come to read and feel and forget about their day for a while. I have a ridiculously long list of blogs I like to check out. People who inspire me, who make me laugh, and who allow me to lose myself in their words.

I want to be a story teller.

I think its related to the uncontrollable need to LOVE people. I want to just GIVE something back to the world that I can only describe as breathtaking. I want to shout "THANK YOU!!" or "I LOVE YOU" or just leave some sort of WHATEVER that will become a part of someone else's story. part of their life.

Problem is, I dont know my story. Or maybe my story is just boring to me.

I used to have this problem all the time. I would think to myself, "I cant be a motivational speaker, I've never had to overcome anything". I've had it held against me... a boy screaming at me about how I've had the perfect life. And in all reality. It's true. Well, ok, no ones life is perfect but mine has been truly great. Easy childhood, great family, college, job, perfect husband. No real traumatic problems.

So I start this blog to talk about seeing the Holy in the ordinary every day around me... and yet, it seems so lame! It's ok, you can tell me if it's lame.

So I'm going to challenge myself to just be real, to be more honest, to be open, and to get motivated to not only start being aware of the story I have developing around me - but to also start telling it!

they aren't going to fight, or complain, or whine, or be anything other than the perfect little angels they will be.

Bwahahaha! Wake up Annie.


Ok ok ok... I know that that isn't entirely true. And while it seems like EVERYONE and their aunt (ha ha literally I have 3 aunts who have or will have babies in the past 9 months) are having children, I know that those sweet little bundles of joy grow to be the attitude laden-"I'm bored" whining-antagonistic adolescents that I deal with on a fairly regular basis.

Don't get me wrong. I love my job. I love the kids. I just also love the fact that I send them back to their parents after I play games with them and give into their demands for cherry soda and sugary snacks. Hey. If the parents don't like it... I suggest coming and helping me out. I'm weak.


They give me puppy dog eyes.

They also on a fairly consistent basis allow the two most obnoxious sounds to exit their lips. Nasally, whiny "waaa whaaaah"s paired with any infuriating phrase (such as "I'm bored" "I'm hungry" "I'm thirsty" "I wanna..." etc. you get my point)

*sigh*
it kills me

it also instigates many conversations between my husband-a-roo and I on how we are going to parent (or remove the vocal chords of) our *someday* children.

Sigh... Someday...
This is my man (visit his blog here) holding his newest cousin, Kurtis. I think my heart just exploded. And my uterus died. Oh sweet Jesus... He's going to be incredible.

So, Annie, get to the point. You have simultaneously complained and swooned over the idea of having kids.

THE POINT! The point in this post (long over due as it may be) on this beautiful day on this not so important blog. Is this quote, “In fifty years it will not matter how much money I make, the size of the house I live in or all the material things I may have, but if I have made a difference in the life of a child.”

One sweet sweet sweet little girl, "R", who actually rarely ever says "I'm bored" or the like... has apparently in the past and actually recently blatantly requested that Chris and I become her parents. She'd like to keep the same grandma, but apparently we would make a great mommy and daddy.
Now of course we are fun and cool and play all the games and all that jazz but I think there is just something about many of these kids that is lacking. In the case of "R" its the love and attention that just isn't there at home. Its the recognition of basic needs like meal times, or hugs, or just a conversation in the car ride home.

In some I see the wanting for some sort of structure. Bed times, family meals, even chores lack definition and the direction I am willing to give - the rules I require to be followed - is what these kids are hungry for. Or just some sort of adult interaction. Kind words, playing together, the direct attention uninterrupted by cellphones, texts, t.v., or other shenanigans their parents cant pull themselves away from for the sake of the sweet little life they created.

Yes, I complain about their complaining, but when you look into these kids eyes and you spend the time to get to know them... you realize that the greatest thing you can do it just love them. Love them enough to give them rules to follow. Love them enough to listen to them no matter how long one story takes to come out. Love them enough to read the books they read, listen to the music they listen to (yes, I know Justin Beiber songs), and know the important things in their lives. And I'm not doing this to try to replace their true Mom and Dad. I'm not interested in being a parent. And many of these kids have amazing parents... but for a few, I give them maybe 2 hours a week where they aren't yelled at... they aren't called names... they aren't ignored or made to feel like a burden.

I am not tooting my own horn. I am by no means going to be the "perfect" parent - and I am not at all the perfect person. But today, one hug from a pair of skinny, bony, 8 year old arms... one smile and a murmured "thanks" from a shy jr. high girl... one text to share good news about an exciting new opportunity from a "coming into his own" high school boy tells me that I am doing my job right.

And in the end I would put up with a million whines just to have the opportunity to love these kids. They deserve it.

Ever have a day where you are just fed up with the world? Just fed up with all the crud people give you - or all the love they seem to hold back from giving you. The times when you feel unacknowledged, under appreciated, and certainly under paid. No one likes your ideas, no one likes your gifts, and in general you just feel like no one likes YOU.

Yeah... hello today.

but you know what?

I like what I do. I like my ideas, my gifts... and I generally appreciate having a positive attitude and a overall happy outlook on life.

Thanks Big Guy for making me, me. And for liking me too.

I have a final in a little over an hour, which means I need to get my butt in gear and get on the road. BUT! I was just thinking about my weekend... which started off really fun helping a family friends 8th grade daughter and her friends get ready for the 8th grade dance... and then Saturday spent the day with my mother in law - we had a ton a fun... it was freezing but we went to the tulip festival, saw the "American Gothic" house and just had a realy nice day - and then on Sunday we attended a Baptist welcoming ceremony for my cousin-in-law's baby who was super cute, and then had a Mother's Day youth night with kids and their moms. It was really nice. I am exhausted but I spend all those events with my husband, we had fun, and I made some great memories. Oh ANND! Not trying to brag, but with our new Prius (yes we got a new car... car accident, faith, oportunity, craziness, etc. were all included in this decision) we did a TON of driving this weekend (D-port, to Donnellson, to Pella, to Donnellson, to Davenport, to LeClaire, and back to Davenport) we only filled up once and got over 43 miles to the gallon... WOW! That's enough to make me smile forever! PLUS... so far, no acceleration problems. ;)

Of course you cant appreciate the rose without the thorn...

AND there was a thorn, last night about 9pm. It was aweful, and honestly doesnt even need to be repeated here. Because THE POINT IS...

That I can look at this weekend and pull out the wonderful moments and in the face of disrespect, anger, condescention, hatred, cruelty... whatever... I am strong and able and I am absolutely in love with the life I lead because of the beautiful memories I will carry with me from this weekend's experiences. And all that other junk... can shove off because I do NOT need that stuff to bring me down. I'm going to spend my time being happy, and sharing that happiness, and if any one WANTS to be upset, or read into things, or allow their life to be consumed with anger and their own self doubt... well then by all means, go ahead and do it! Just stay away from me. ;)

Ok...

wish me luck on this final. Personaliy disorders, mood disorders, DSM-IV, music therapy, and more! Woo hoo.

It's been a while since there was a new post... and I was pretty rough last week - a definite roller coaster. When I started this post a week ago I was going to explain a lot more, but today it seems trivial, or maybe just repeating the whole thing feels ridiculous, redundant, maybe just stupid.

In the past week I have been called: deluded, self important, two-faced, condescending, and a whole lot of other expletives. I have lost a friend, delt with issues in a family that - while they aren't necissarily my blood relatives - I care deeply about, and have many exhausting conversations and worry with my husband.

Work has been overwhelmingly hard, uncertain, and just plain exhausting.
And school - good graious... it was spring break and I am absolutely going crazy.
To top it off? I have fractured my finger. ha ha ha. I feel like such a doofus with this big THING on the end of my finger.
Oh! And today on my drive to school - I got flipped the bird.

When Chris proposed to me, there was this feeling that I had that was so overwhelming I could barely describe it. The only person who I think really knows what I felt was my Mom. I can only say that it was this squeezing around my heart. Squeezing of my heart. Something that the Hurston puts perfectly at the top of the page: a self-crushing love.

This feeling was strongest with Chris but happens to me with various other people... sometimes completely unexpectedly. The problem is that I fall in love all the time. I find a new piece of fabric and I LOVE it and immediately think of who the perfect person is to give such a beautiful thing to. I hear some new piece of exciting news and want to celebrate it to the millionth degree. THAT is exactly what gets me in trouble. To trunkate... I found out someone who I was really hopeful that I could be close to is pregnant. And here's the thing, I was really looking forward to this time because:
1. I am looking forward to being Auntie Annie.
2. I wanted to be able to give to this expectant Mom everything I think she deserves to have.

See, she's been through a lot. A lot of stress, and pain, and hurt. And I thought I could do something for her that would be free of all that. Why? Because. There is no why. She is a beautiful child of God. Created to be on this Earth for some reason - to bring this child into this world. And just for that fact alone, she deserves to be celebrate.

It's the same reason I threw a Sweet 16 party for a teen who has the LARGEST attitude and worst manners and really does nothing to make my life any better. But somewhere inside her there has to be a girl who needs my love.

Needs my love?!

Wow. I sound arrogant.

I've never thought I was condescending. I've never considered myself to be two-faced. To be called that (behind my back no less) cuts deeply. Two faced - why? Because I believe in respecting my elders? Because while I may not like something you do I will still love you? Condescending. Friends - confidants - say its because they are jealous of what I have. My relationship with Chris. I dont know, but it breaks my heart to think that my life may make someone else feel bad.

So, long story exceptionally short. We have cut ties. After unreturned emails, finding out about the pregnancy from other people, phone calls that never happened, congratulation cards that are overlooked, appologies that never came, and compassion that kept trying to no avail... I have been seen as "untrying". And I, we - Chris and I, can't keep doing that.

The box of things stashed away that I've collected for that future baby shower now need a new home. The glass baby bottles I found at an antique store that would be right up her alley - I'm not sure what to do. They are just harsh reminders of the love I am prohibited to give. And... it hurts. It hurts not to be accepted. It hurts to have the fibers of yourself be held against you. It hurts to loose something which had great potential - that you poured so much time and effort into.

I think we've all been there. Been let down. Been unappreciated. Been simply ignored. I think I would rather a straight, "I just dont like you" than silence or the snide accusations that sneak through a chain of "he said, she said".

What's the point? Where do I see the holy in all of this... mess. This darkness, and pain, and consuming head game?

Three things:
1. Two sundays ago it came in the form of a hug from an 8th grade boy, thanking me for the opportunity to go serve the needy. A boy who for all intents and purposed hasn't really communicated with me that much and certainly does NOT express his feelings.

2. This past sunday it was a facebook status of a cousin-in-law talking about how great it was to participate in something I had poured my work into, and how fun it was just to see me and Chris for a few minutes in a busy day.

3. Today it was the excitment in the voice of a young girl who hadn't seen me in a while.

None of these three had I intentionally pursued to impact their lives or shower with love. But it just happened.

Maybe we get caught up in the love that people refuse to recieve and miss out on the ones we love without realizing it. Mother Theresa tells us, "In this life we cannot do great things. We can only do small things with great love." Perhaps it was too much to want to make this great gesture of love. Too much to handle that instead of seeing the log in their eye the sliver in my eye seemed so easy to criticize. It is far easier to hate than to love. But if I just continue to love... whomever, whenever... small things will bloom out of this love.

Today I see the holy in the things I dont even realize I am doing, in the people I dont even notice I am touching, in the ways in which the Spirit works through me without my knowing it. I think I will always worry about those who don't like me, but I'm going to have to go with the serenity prayer here:

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him forever in the next.
Amen.

--Reinhold Niebuhr

Today I see the holy in the tears I have shed, knowing that they holy spirit is cleansing my heart of the hurt. Today I see the holy in this journey of self discovery, self evaluation, and the process of self betterment. I see the holy in the challenge to re-evaluate and fix whatever it was in me that has possibly hurt another person. I see the holy in the blessing of a moment to know that I have touched someone's life that might have gone unnoticed. I see the holy in the FACT the I live. I live well. And I am strong enough to live a life of Love.

I hope and pray that I can continue to live a life of love that grows out of me like vines...

...twisting, reaching, and curling love into the lives of those who know me.

Isn't that what Jesus wanted as well? For us to be the branches going out into the world to share his love? After the things said to me, the way people have acted I could just hole up and say "screw you world!" My vine could shrivle up and die. It would be easier. It would be so nice to not care about anyone and rather just worry about yourself. But the part that makes life worth living, is the part where you feel that heart-squeezing, self-crushing love. The thing that says it doesn't matter what happens for me in return this person, animal, being deserves to be loved.

THAT is what makes this journey worth while.

Not singing for someone who has tears running down their face and thinking "Wow I must be amazing" but knowing that your music has given them some comfort that nothing else has.

Not giving a gift so that you can be the greatest person in someone's life, but rather to see that look of sheer joy on their face and know they feel important.

Not to get compliments, or praise, or thanks... but to know that one thing I may have done has made the world of someone else that much brighter.

I want to live simply to bring love... to be the encounter with the holy... in someone else's life.

“If you live for love, you spread kindness and compassion everywhere you go.
When you stop believing in your heart,
you are but a sterile vessel wandering in the wilderness.”

-Francis Hegmeyer

laugh if you like... it's ok, I am sure I sound like a huge baby. But just try it. Try not using your hand for a day. Wear an eye patch. Use crutches, a wheelchair! Don't speak.

Last night, I went to my observation of a choir for adults with developmental disabilities. I do this every Tuesday for a class I am in this semester. This spring term the clients are putting together a concert of songs that have won Academy Awards. One of the pieces they are doing is "jai ho" from the movie "Slumdog Millionaire" and with this song they are dancing! It's actually very fun and the motions are easy enough that most of the clients can participate without much difficulty. However, there is one client who is blind. Now, this client can participate - they move very well. BUT! The dance is being taught verbally with phrases like now, "do the boxer" and then the therapist demonstrates the move. Now of course, the therapists are competent and worked with the blind client one on one to help her learn the moves... but I just was struck with how hard things would be if you were blind.

I know, I know... a very "duh" moment.

But really when do we actually stop and say "Thank God I can see"? When have we said, "I am so blessed to be able to walk"? I can get out of bed in the morning! I can bathe myself without help! I can drive a car and go where I please. I can think, I can talk, I can move, express myself... I am very blessed.

And even if you read this, and you can't do one of those things... what is a gift given to you that you take for granted? Your pancreas works and produces insulin. Your lungs work and you can breathe. Your heart pumps blood.

God GRIEF people! Our bodies are such an amazing gift to us. So, we have flaws... I'm chubby, Chris is diabetic, my brother is color blind, my mother hurt her knee, my dad's hair is turning gray, but who cares?! We are blessed to be given this opportunity to live life, flaws and all, and to live it with the gifts of our senses, with the gifts of our abilities, with the gifts of all that we have.

What about you are you taking for granted? Are you over looking, or in the times when you feel sad or depressed or just down on yourself what do you sweep under the carpet as being unimportant?

If you go out to the store today, be thankful that you can walk around to shop. If you work on the computer today, be thankful you can type. If you clean your house today, be thankful you can move. If you read a newspaper, text message, magazine, book, ANYTHING be thankful you can see. If you get sassed by your kids... be thankful you can hear.

Or...

If you cry because of a sad story you hear, be glad that you have that gift of compassion.
If you laugh with a friend today, be thankful that you have a gift to make someone happy.

Someone told me (in reference to the way I cook) that I have, "so much confidence to trust my instincts and just make up the recipe as you go." Another gift I didn't even realize I had!

What gifts have you been blessed with? Don't make this a harder question than what it is...

Kurt Vonnegut writes in his book Timequake about his uncle, "talking about simple occasions, not great victories: maybe drinking lemonade on a hot afternoon in the shade, or smelling the aroma of a nearby bakery, or fishing and not caring if we catch anything or not, or hearing somebody all alone playing a piano really well in the house next door."

I am a worrier. I am a planner. I am a "sure I can do that" helper-outter. An overextended, highly committed, run run run, fill-your-day-up-until-might-die, please everyone person. And that's ok, because I can admit that and I can understand that and I am learning how to deal with that fact. I think most of us are that way too... maybe not to the same degree, maybe not in the same ways, but we like to be occupied. Maybe you don't go out of your way to make sure you help this year's christmas pagent at a church you wont even be attending on December 25, but we all fill ourselves up on something. Honestly, when it is finally time for me to collapse - my "me" time is consumed by a t.v., a video game, a book, sleep, talking on the phone... its filled up with something else. And none of those things are bad, they are just there. And they distract us.

I went to confession once, and talked with a priest about how I am just always looking ahead, unsure of the future, trying to make plans, trying to figure out the big questions, changing my mind... and essentially always looking forward to the next step. He told me to think about the phrase in the Lord's Prayer "give us this day our daily bread". Just give us what we need today and we will worry about the next day when it comes.

We hear this message all the time... slow down, stop and smell the roses. But it is honestly truly hard. We don't like the silence of a moment not filled up with something or other. But in that moment, the quickest fleeting piece of time, we can find joy. We can find the holy parts of our amazing life spinning around us.

What do you notice? What do you want to have noticed about you? Tiny Flecks of Color... one of my dearest friends is someone I can talk to about anything. She is adventurous, and confident, and beautiful. She makes her own paths, she is not afraid to stand out, and she enjoys even the most simple things around her. She inspires me to be more like her and find joy in the journey we are all on. One thing about this friend... she has beautiful eyes. Hazely green gray... but right there in her eye is a spot, a tiny fleck of brownish gold. It is so unique.

When I was a sad teenager without a boyfriend and low self-esteem, I would try to pick out one thing that some guy - the right guy - would like about me despite all my obvious flaws. I always came back to the thought that I had nice eyes. Sweet, huh?

The eyes. They open up a world of wonder to us all. When you think about it, the information they provide for us is astounding. But how often do we see? Really see... People are drawn to black and white photography - well maybe it is just me... but really its so different from what we have every day. And yet, there are days when I can drive from one side of town to the other and not even really remember what the drive was like. We go so fast that we miss so much of everything. Mahatma Ghandi once said, "There is more to life than increasing its speed" how counter cultural!! I have the internet, texting, messaging, email, camera, video camera, and games on my phone - oh yeah, and it can make a phone call! I check my facebook and twitter probably a million times a day. I want information on anything right.now. We want fast food, high speed internet, high powered engines, short lines, quick service, fast turn around, delivery on demand. Its so very black and white.

If I were my friend I would be heartwarmed by the obvious attention it would take for someone to notice and remember that fleck of color in my eye.

What do you notice? What do you pay attention to? What is the little glimmer of color that catches your attention today?

That's what this blog is about. Noticing the tiny miracles, the little burst of joy that surround us daily. If you are faithful... its about finding the Holy (who/whatever it may be) in the ordinary all around you.



My friend Ferris Bueller once said, "Life moves pretty fast. You don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it."