Pix From the Past Month

Pretty much I thank God every day for bringing these two precious friends into my life. The bond that I have with each of them, and that we have as a three-fold-cord is so deep that I wonder at times how it can get any better. And yet, each time we get together, it does.
This is from two Fridays ago when Jill and I went to see "Celtic Woman" in concert at the Verizon. This was to be our first of many pictures that evening, however, all things photo related were turned back at the door, so it ended up being the first and last :)
Vicki T!! My fellow trainer at work. We went to Dunkin Donuts for a coffee break and saw these amazingly large filters. She made a crack at how large they were and I stated my wish to wear one on my head. Our maker of iced coffees heard us and graciously bestowed them upon us as parting gifts.
Luke was one of my best friends through high school... we've been seperated by an entire continent for years, but he's back in NH now, and when we met for coffee, it was as if our high school friendship was just weeks ago. Only now, we are all grown up.
What erases a bad week? A Friday night out with the person who knows you and loves you for all that you are, of course. Last night we went to the best Mexican/American joint around, and between chips, salsa, pina coladas and laughter... friendship washed away the effects of a really l-o-n-g week.

Soul Mates

In a conversation with a friend a little while ago, I asked her whether she thought it was possible to have more than one soul mate in a lifetime?

And also, whether she thought it possible to have a soul mate that you will never marry, perhaps because of timing, circumstances, beliefs?

It's a difficult question. One that I think about... a lot.

Tonight, I asked another friend, and her answer made my heart happy.

That even though we all have a deep heart desire for a human soul mate who truly understands us, there's an even deeper desire.

One that can only be filled by Someone who created us.

Jesus is our Ultimate Soul Mate.

Quelled By A Child

Tonight I was at dinner with a friend.

Neither said friend or myself is what we would refer to as quiet diners.

Part way through our meal, a family with small children was seated at the table next to us.

As we talked and laughed, their smallest child (I'm guessing two) looked at me and said,

"Silence!"

The Process

At first, an idea emerges as a tiny niggling in my mind.

Then it begins to grow, and continues until I can think of nothing else.

The words tumble over and over in my mind, as I struggle to visualize just how I want to see them on paper.

Composing them into a beautiful structure becomes my obsession.

I look frantically for pen and paper as the words start falling from my head to my hand.

My penmanship, which I desperately try to keep uniform, goes by the wayside as I race to jot down my thoughts.

Once the ideas are purged from my thoughts to paper, I stare at the mess of words and scribbles.

And I am happy.

For I have created.

JAMBOG - Part the Second

In which I must create a McGyver like ending (utilizing the four things from my previous post) to a scenario put forth by the Honorable VA Joneses.

I pick:

Scenario #3: You're imprisoned in an old castle dungeon. Guards stand outside your cell. A moat surrounds the castle. How do you escape?

There was no way I was going to sit around in this castle, while such things as an exciting job as employee trainer at a local health insurance company awaited. I had to act swiftly.

"Guard dear," I said in my most coaxing voice, "Kindly step this way." He put his face to the bars in the door, and I put mine close to his.

"You have two options... You can either listen to my clever ideas about me being outside of these walls, or you can be part of my escape. If you choose the latter, I will give you the prize I just won at work... all expenses paid trip to a sub-zero-yet-supposedly-very-romantic ice hotel."

"Um - I'm not supposed to be talking to you," he said, in an oafish tone, as most guards in old castles are stereotypically typecast to use.

I sighed, and as I did, brought my right hand (which had been cleverly unplugging and clutching the only source of light that had been provided in my "room") up to the bars and struck him firmly on the head... all the while thinking to myself that weapons in most stories are not as aesthetically pleasing as mine.

I went to the window and whistled shrilly three times... and up to the edge of the moat roared my rescuer, perched atop his trusty metal steed with sidecar... said sidecar waiting patiently for me to inhabit it.

"Do you have the money to pay off the other guard," I asked, blue eyes ready to go puppy-dog style if need be.

"Though I am money personified," said he... "we will not be needing the traditional dollars and cents" and with a flourish he unfurled his startling long comb over. It stretched across the moat, and with very little coaxing I climbed out of the window, trounced across his hair without getting my shoes wet, and settled myself happily in the sidecar.

And that is all I have to say about that...

Things That Are Way Strange... And Bad, Even

I have writer's block.

And I do not love it.

The end.

(The really frustrating thing is, there is a lot going on in my mind... I just can't get it out in words. And sometimes if I just admit that I have writer's block, the words explode.)

Cross your fingers!

And now... really the end.

JAMBOG, of course

From Darren/Sara's blog, I present to you my entries for JAMBOG...

Money

Mode of Transportation

Light

COLD

The Blondes Have It

Due to the recent viewing of a movie in which the main character buys a villa in Tuscany on a whim, I've decided I must have one as well.

So, the other day I was online googling the daylights out of Tuscan villas.

And I went to this one site that had spectacular pictures, and all that one could ever want while searching for things that will never happen.

But I was puzzled.

Why would this website be entitled totuscany.com?

And what did "totu scany" have to do with anything?

When I figured it out, I was glad that no one could read my thoughts... and vowed that people would never know.

But because I am who I am, it took less than 30 seconds for me to share the story with a friend, because... that's how I roll!

He Loves Me

I love my nieces and nephews... passionately.

This comes as a shock to no one who knows me, or reads this blog.

Sometimes when I see them my heart hurts, because I love them so much.

And today my heart felt as if it would explode from my chest when I realized that God's love for me surpasses what I feel for those precious children.

Surpasses it by lengths I can't even begin to fathom.

This glimpse of love came from hearing one of my favorite songs on the radio. It's a remake of an old Phillips, Craig and Dean song, "When God Ran," this time sung by Across the Sky.

At the beginning of the song it describes God as One who never changes... is unshakeable... solid to the extreme

Almighty God

The Great I Am

Immoveable Rock

Omnipotent

Powerful

Awesome Lord

Victorious Warrior

Mighty Conqueror

Commanding King of Kings

And then it switches over, showing God as a Father who not only loves His children, but pursues them... who scoops them up and holds them when they hurt... or when they've strayed

The only time I ever saw Him run

Was when He ran to me,

Took me in His arms,

Held my head to His chest

And said "My son's come home again".

Looked in my face,

Wiped the tears from my eyes

With forgiveness in His voice

He said

"Son, do you know I still love you?"

I long for the day that I feel His arms around me physically... the day that I get to put my head on His chest and truly rest.

It caught me by surprise

It dropped me to my knees

When God ran

But until that time I'm grateful He gives glimpses of His love... glimpses that keep me wanting more.

I Pose This Question

Why is it that men seem to have an aversion to umbrellas?

This morning, we received inches and inches of snow.

And then ice.

And then torrential rain fell all.day.long.

It was SO wet outside.

And yet, I saw not one man with an umbrella.

I saw many women with them.

I even had an extra one that I offered to a male specimen.

He declined. And then later complained of wet socks.

Is it considered de-masculinization for them to stay dry in rain?

I do not understand.

Enlighten me?

Beauty

"In one of the stars I shall be living.

In one of them I shall be laughing.

And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing.

When you look at the sky at night...

You, you will have stars that can laugh!"

- The Little Prince (Antoine De Saint-Exupéry)

We're Home!

Here we are... right before getting on board the ship.

Friend. Coffee. Ocean. Bible. Bahamas.
Life really can't get much better than it was at that moment!

I've wanted to go parasailing for years!

Being that high above the islands (at least 300 feet) was an amazing experience! It was incredibly peaceful... and had a way of putting things in perspective.

Now I can cross that off my 30 by 30 list!!

This was about as much fun as a barrel of monkeys! Maybe even more so! We went all over Nassau. Didn't have a map, so just explored.
Exhilarating!!

The last morning... Sad it was over, but what an amazing time! So many happy memories!

(this is just a fraction of the pictures... I loaded a bunch more on my Facebook page)

So Much Truth

I've been loving this song lately!

I Still Believe

Scattered words and empty thoughts
Seem to pour from my heart
I've never felt so torn before
Seems I don't know where to start

But its now I feel Your grace fall like rain
From every fingertip
Washing away my pain

I still believe in Your faithfulness!
I still believe in Your truth.
I still believe in Your holy word.
Even when I dont see, I still believe!

Though the questions still fog up my mind
With promises I still seem to bear
Even when answers slowly unwind
It's my heart I see You prepare

But its now that I feel Your grace fall like rain
From every fingertip
Washing away my pain

The only place I can go is into Your arms
Where I throw to You my feeble prayers
In brokeness I can see
That this is Your will for me
Help me to know You are near

I still believe in Your faithfulness
I still believe in Your truth
I still believe in Your holy word
Even when I dont see, I still believe

- Jeremy Camp

No Place I'd Rather Be

Fresh Beginnings

For my birthday I received a Willow Tree figurine of a girl with arms flung wide, reveling in the joy of life. And it made me cry. Because that’s what I had been… and what I longed to be again.

But I was stuck. I was hurting. There was none of the joy in life that I was used to experiencing.

The past year had been filled with difficult situations. Each time I would struggle to regain my footing, a new circumstance would come along my path and knock me down again.

I wasn’t sleeping. I was exhausted. And the closest to giving up that I’ve ever been.

In my exhaustion, there was a constant crying out… “Jesus… I can’t do this any more. Why are You doing this to me?” Sometimes it even took too much effort to vocalize my thoughts…or to get on my knees. I would be flat on my face, sobbing at the foot of the cross. And still, I felt so alone.

I was beginning to feel frantic. There had to be something better.

The desperation reached a fever pitch in December. I felt as if my spiritual life was hanging in the balance. Something had to break, or I would be the one breaking.

And I started looking ahead to 2008 - clinging to the fact that it could be a new slate. A fresh start.

My backbone began to stiffen, my soul began to wonder if there was a small glimmer of hope.

I began to tell myself I was not going to give up without a fight.

A plan began to formulate...

I knew that God wanted to meet with me. He wanted to be an “us.” But “us” as a word means “more than one,” so “us” only works when I make the choice to meet with Him.

It is so elementary… what I have been raised with… lived most of my life doing.

Since the beginning of the year, I’ve been immersing myself in Him. Relearning what it is to willingly spend time with Him. Instead of just screaming “I can’t do this,” choosing to rest in the fact that He’s not asking me to do it… at least not alone.

And the joy is returning. I no longer look at the Willow Tree figurine with envy. I look at her, smile, and throw my arms in the air as well.

Like Mary, as she sobbed in the garden that morning of His resurrection, Jesus came to me. He was waiting for me to stop crying long enough to hear His gentle, “Lindsay.”

"Your satisfaction with Him will never be greater than your desire for Him." - Dr Paul Chapell

A Great Man

There are some fathers who emulate God's Father love... who teach you to crave His love, and not to fear Him.

My Dad is quietly one of those.

Happy birthday, Daddy.

There's not a day that goes by where I'm not thankful that I'm your little girl.

I Love to LAUGH!

Massage - $77
Bottled Water - $2.50
Sharing a laugh with a stranger - Priceless

This afternoon, after a most relaxing massage (with no Houston-esque extras, you'll be glad to know) I went to Barnes & Noble.

And while there, made a quick trip to the restroom. Another lady was ahead of me, but right before we walked in we saw a woman walk into the men's room.

First lady and I looked at each, shrugged our shoulders, and went into our respective stalls.

All was silent, and then we heard a horrified yell from beyond the wall.

And we both burst out laughing.

The laughing continued until we met again at the sink.

"I can't wait to tell my family about this," she said.

"And I can wait to tell my blog about this," thought I.

Emotional Bandaids

The original bandaid had been on for so long that I no longer knew what the wound underneath looked like.

When it hurt, I would just carefully place a fresh bandaid on top of all the others. From my vantage point, there was always a clean bandaid to look down at.

She came alongside and saw what I was choosing to turn a blind eye toward. A deep wound that would never have a chance to heal, because it was being jealously guarded by someone afraid of the pain that taking the years worth of bandaids off would entail.

A relationship of trust was built, and a tiny thought in my heart began to wonder what it would be like to uncover the wound.

The fear was still an insurmountable obstacle, but I was lovingly persuaded to let someone else do the revealing.

Silent tears rolling down my cheeks... shaking in fear... my soul laid completely bare.

Just as a child panicking at the thought of having a bandaid ripped off a skinned knee, the fear of what would be found was worse than the pain of the actual process.

Afterwards, sobs of exhaustion and relief. It was over.

The wound was revealed.

It could now start to heal.

My Wish for 2008

Twenty years from now

you will be more disappointed

by the things you didn't do

than by the ones you did do.

So throw off the bowlines,

sail away from the safe harbor.

Catch the trade winds in your sails.

Explore.

Dream.

Discover.

-Mark Twain

Shoppin' for Shovels

NH has had the snowiest December on record. And with yesterday's storm, it looks like January wants to beat some records as well.

So, at the top of my mental list of things to do this evening was "buy a shovel."

I told Dad about it. He said, "There are lots of shovels out there. Make sure you get one that's not too big for you... one that will work well for you."

Now I was envisioning a store with rows upon rows of shovels... all shapes, colors and sizes.

I told Steph. She said, "Uh oh - do you need me to go with you to buy this shovel?"

For goodNESS sake, thought I... this was supposed to be an easy thing to cross off my list. Now, everyone is questioning my shovel buying abilities.

I am 29.

I can buy a shovel on my own.

Target was my store of choice. I walked in, and there were no rows upon rows of shovels.

There was one small aisle, and it had only one type... and the handle was retractable... and I didn't like it.

I scoffed at their sad selection and informed the shovel aisle in no uncertain terms that I was taking my money to Lowe's, where I would have a fabulous selection to choose from, and would purchase the epitome of shovel perfection.

Into Lowe's I marched. And went to "Seasonal," because when you live in NH and it's January 2nd, "Seasonal" says to me "Shovels, Snowblowers, Ice, Sand, Etc."

Apparently the people who create the hanging signs in Lowe's work from FLORIDA, because the "Seasonal" section was filled with annuals, perennials, and enough dirt to cover just about anything you desired. WHO even plants flowers in January in NH??

By this time, having had my shovel buying prowess questioned, I was not going to fail on this mission. I looked all over, and finally had to ask someone.

He said, "I don't have many left," and pointed to FOUR shovels.

Who even knew that with the 87 feet of snow that we've gotten in the last three days, that others would want to purchase shovels as well?


The handles didn't retract... in fact, they were a little bent, supposedly to help my back, so I grabbed one and went to pay for it.

The cashier who rang me up works at the place that I work, so to make nice small talk I said, "Wow - it's a long day for you, eh?"

This apparently was the equivalent of me holding a knife to her throat, as she glared at me, mumbled something in the affirmative, and then threw my change at me.

Note to self... don't break cardinal rule of acknowledging co-workers outside the confines of our beloved building.

I walked my shovel back to my car, and informed it that it's name was now "Frank."

He sat up front, but he is not much of a conversationalist.

I got home, but it was so bitterly cold I had already decided Frank and I would shovel tomorrow... and when I turned into my driveway, much to my joyous surprise and relief I saw...

Frank was not needed tonight!


Someone had already shoveled me out.