My Parents

My initial inspiration for this blog was the recent Mother’s Day holiday. My plan was to write a Mother’s Day post, but as soon as I started writing I realized that I really want to dedicate this to both my parents, because they both have been instrumental in shaping me into who I am today. And you don’t get one without the other - they come together as a package deal.

I know plenty of people who look back at their childhood and think, “Wow, I bet I can pinpoint exactly why I’m screwed up now.” They can think back to a certain argument with their parents that inevitably shaped their relationship with them. Or a careless statement made by a parent that shaped their own view of themselves. When I look back at my childhood I truly see the most carefree, joy-filled memories of my life, and I think “That is what I want mine and Shane’s children to experience with us.”

Some people argue the issue of nature versus nurture, and I am a strong believer that more often than not, nurture is the reigning champion. April, Emily, and I have always had (especially at childhood) totally different personalities, temperaments, interests, and ways of relating to others. Yet we all grew into strong, loving, Godly women who are capable of pursuing career and family goals, and maintaining healthy relationships with the people in our lives. I remember people coming up to my mom or dad and saying, “You really lucked out and got three amazing daughters.” I think it’s a far stretch to say it’s a coincidence that we turned out well. The only explanation needed is to take a closer look at who raised us.

Here are a few things I have learned from my parents:

To love God – The most important thing I’ve learned is to keep my relationship with God number one. Of course, with my Granddad being the pastor of our church growing up, it seemed like we were at church any time the doors were open. But they didn’t go to church and act one way, and then come home and act a totally different way. They have always lived what they believe.

To be myself – They never once said, “You should play this sport, or participate in this activity instead of that one.” They let us choose what we wanted to do, based on what interested us. Maybe I would have been better at soccer than at basketball, but I had no interest in soccer and loved basketball, so they encouraged me in basketball.

I can do anything - I can do and be whatever I desire to be, with God’s help.

Not to take myself too seriously. My family is very fun-loving, and willing to laugh at themselves. This doesn’t just make for entertaining family get-togethers, it really is important.

To take care of each other – Whenever any of us is in need of something, the rest of the family is always right there to pitch in and help out.

Family produces awesome friendships – My family members honestly are my best friends. My parents both have healthy relationships with their own parents, and I think that definitely provided a positive influence on us as well.

To serve other people – From watching my parents, I learned that when you see someone in need of help, you go help them. You don’t just say, “Oh tell me if you need something.” You just do it.

Hospitality – For as long as I can remember my parents have been very eager to have people over for dinner, or just to visit. And they are always willing to bend over backwards to make someone feel at home when they are visiting.

Commitment – This may be the most important one. My parents have been married for 32 years. During those years they have said repeatedly, not by their words but by their actions, “I am here for good. I’m not going anywhere, even if things get tough.”

Here are a few things my parents have given me:

Acceptance – My parents never pressured us to get all A’s in school. They said all they asked of us was that we truly did our best. I cannot think of ONE time in my life that either of my parents has criticized me for what I am, what I believe, or how I feel.

Encouragement – Acceptance and lack of criticism is nice to have, but it’s not enough to stop there. My parents always encouraged us in whatever we were striving to do, even if it wasn’t exactly what they had in mind for us. I can guarantee my Mom probably had many other ideas in mind for me outside of joining the military. But ever since I told her that’s what I wanted to do, she has been one of my greatest supporters.

Unfailing support – They have been there to walk with me through all of life’s big moments, from first steps and first words to graduations and first jobs. They have helped me through the happy moments and the sad – from the loss of family members and close friends, and leaving to join the military, to very recently, getting married.

A helping hand - They are always there to pick me up when I fall. No matter what kind of mess I get myself into, they are right there to gently pick me back up and get me back on track.

Time – Time is one of the most important gifts a parent can give their kids. My parents took the time to home-school us when we were young. My mom worked part-time, and the rest of the time she was home with us. My dad took us hunting, and taught us to shoot guns and go fishing. My mom taught us to cook, bake, sew, and read. My dad taught us to work with our hands, and how to cut the grass (though I definitely didn’t appreciate that one at the time). My mom taught us to love books, and to enjoy traveling to new places. My dad taught us how to build things. They helped us with homework and countless school projects. And if I had to guess, they are going to help teach all of those things to our children as well.

Sacrifice - When we were older, my parents sent us to a private Christian school. They didn’t send us to public school because it was cheaper and they would be able to drive brand new cars or go on extravagant vacations. They drove used cars and gave us the opportunity to attend the school they felt we would benefit from the most. I know that was a sacrifice.

Role models – My parents have shown me what it means to be a father, mother, husband, wife, and friend. They are not perfect, but they do their best. My parents have shown me what it is that I want for my children. Of course, being female, I’ve especially learned what I want to be as a mother. If I can be half the mother my mom was to me, I will consider myself to have accomplished quite a feat.

Shane gave me the best compliment the other day. We were talking about which characteristics I inherited from my dad, and which ones I got from my mom. He summed it up perfectly and said I got my dad's strength and my mom's heart. I agree 100%, and I am very grateful for it.

So even though it’s not Mother’s Day anymore and it’s not Father’s Day yet, I just want to say:

Mom and Dad, thank you. :)

Be Thankful For Your Potatoes

I try to have a positive attitude - I try not to complain about things or be negative. Obviously I still do from time to time, but it really annoys me, so I try not to. Well, the other day I had been having one of those days where it seemed like I was focusing more on the negative things about the events, people, and circumstances surrounding me. I had just started my shift at work, and I had to go downstairs and pick up a dinner tray for a patient. She was on a special pureed diet, which meant it took them forever to make the tray, so I waited for quite a while, thinking about all the work I needed to be doing instead of sitting there waiting.

My attitude had definitely started going downhill by the time I got back upstairs with the tray. I took it into the patient's room, and asked her if she was hungry. She nodded her head so I started feeding her the dinner. She ate very quietly for a while, slowly gumming away at this pureed meal. It was potatoes, corn, and some type of meat, all mashed up into their own little patties of mush. As I stood there feeding her, I let my mind wander – I thought about the mashed up food, and wondered whether it actually tasted like the real thing, then about how hungry I was and finally about how I was already tired and still had 11 hours left on my shift.Then she finally said something, very quietly: "The food is good."

My self-centered train of thought came to a sudden halt as she spoke these words. Suddenly my heart broke for this frail woman stuck lying in bed day after day. She has suffered a stroke, can no longer speak clearly or move well at all, and has to be fed and changed like a toddler. Yet she is able to think of something positive to say about what is happening to her. Needless to say, I felt about 2 inches tall, and immediately felt the sting of tears in my eyes as I thought about how pathetic it is for me to complain about anything at all, when I am so obviously blessed. I have a wonderful family, friends, my health, the opportunity to serve my country, and to help sick and injured people, all while being paid to do so. And I have the nerve to complain about something.

I made a decision a few years ago to be a positive person, and I have decided to re-kindle that decision now. When I start to think negatively, I’m going to replace the negative thought with a positive one. It really is easier than it sounds. And it’s much easier to stop it at the thought stage than the speaking stage. I know from experience that what you think about and what you dwell on is what will eventually come out of your mouth. So I’m determined to think positively, so that I speak positively. There is ALWAYS something to be thankful for, no matter how trying your circumstances may seem. And I thank that patient for reminding me of that.

“For out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks.” – Matthew 12:34

"May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer." - Psalm 19:14

God Heals the Heart

God heals the heart

I’ve always heard this statement said to people who are going through difficult times, who have suffered loss, or are dealing with a tough situation. But I never knew the extent of its truthfulness until the past year or two. I am living proof that God not only heals the heart, He gives you even more than you could have possibly hoped for.

My High School Sweetheart

When I was 16, I went on a date with one of the guys from my 10^th grade class at school. After our date he dropped me off at my friend’s house. Standing on the doorstep, we parted ways with a goodbye kiss that left my heart racing. Today, nearly 12 years later, he still makes my heart race. And in 3 months he and I will stand on a beach in Florida and express our love for each other, and celebrate the many years we will have together as husband and wife. I thank God every day for him.

I think it’s awesome to be able to say that I found the love of my life when I was 16. I may not have realized it at the time, but I know it now. Over the past decade we have been on again and off again in much the same fashion as Ross and Rachel from Friends. But somehow in the back of my mind I knew it was him. He was the one God had planned for me - to grow old with me, and to make me the happiest person in the world. :)

Happy Birthday, Adam

"I Am The Flag"

I Am the Flag of the

United States

Of America

I am the flag of the United States of America.
My name is Old Glory.
I fly atop the world's tallest buildings.
I stand watch in America's halls of justice.
I fly majestically over institutions of learning.
I stand guard with power in the world.
Look up and see me.

I stand for peace, honor, truth and justice.
I stand for freedom.
I am confident.
I am arrogant.
I am proud.
When I am flown with my fellow banners,
My head is a little higher,
My colors a little truer.
I bow to no one!
I am recognized all over the world.
I am worshipped - I am saluted.
I am loved - I am revered.
I am respected - and I am feared.
I have fought in every battle of every war for more then 200 years. I was flown at Valley Forge, Gettysburg, Shiloh and Appomattox.
I was there at San Juan Hill, the trenches of France,
in the Argonne Forest, Anzio, Rome and the beaches of Normandy.
Guam, Okinawa, Korea and Khe Sanh, Saigon, Vietnam know me.
I'm presently in the mountains of Afghanistan and the hot and dusty deserts of Iraq and wherever freedom is needed.
I led my troops, I was dirty, battle-worn and tired,
But my soldiers cheered me and I was proud.
I have been burned, torn and trampled on the streets of countries I have helped set free.
It does not hurt for I am invincible.
I have been soiled upon, burned, torn and trampled in the streets of my country.
And when it's done by those whom I've served in battle - it hurts.
But I shall overcome - for I am strong.
I have slipped the bonds of Earth and stood watch over the uncharted frontiers of space from my vantage point on the moon.
I have borne silent witness to all of America's finest hours.
But my finest hours are yet to come.
When I am torn into strips and used as bandages for my wounded comrades on the battlefield,
When I am flown at half-mast to honor my soldier,
Or when I lie in the trembling arms of a grieving parent
at the grave of their fallen son or daughter,
I am proud.

Broken Dreams

Broken Dreams

As children bring their broken toys

With tears for us to mend,

I brought my broken dreams to God

Because He was my friend.

But then instead of leaving Him

In peace to work alone,

I hung around and tried to help

With ways that were my own.

At last I snatched them back and cried,

"How could you be so slow"

"My child," He said, "What could I do?

You never did let go."

Robert J. Burdette

"A balanced diet is a cookie in each hand"

My mom and sister have started baking cookies, cakes, pies, and all kinds of other goodies. Well, I shouldn't say they just started doing it, because they've been baking for years. But they only recently created a blog page where you can actually see what they're cooking up, and get an idea of what you want to order! :)

Christmas cookies make a really good gift for family, friends, and co-workers. Or maybe you're headed to Great Aunt Edna's for Christmas dinner, and have been tasked with dessert. Instead of spending hours in the kitchen making something that may or may not taste like cardboard, let them do the work for you and you're guaranteed to get a dessert that will have everyone asking for seconds.

Check it out:

http://www.cakeboxgirls.blogspot.com/

In Memory of Adam

A Soldier's Christmas Poem

Written by Lance Corporal James M. Schmidt.

'Twas The Night Before Christmas,

He Lived All Alone,

In A One Bedroom House

Made Of Plaster And Stone.

I Had Come Down The Chimney

With Presents To Give,

And To See Just Who

In This Home Did Live.

I Looked All About,

A Strange Sight I Did See,

No Tinsel, No Presents,

Not Even A Tree.

No Stocking By Mantle,

Just Boots Filled With Sand,

On The Wall Hung Pictures

Of Far Distant Lands.

With Medals And Badges,

Awards Of All Kinds,

A Sober Thought

Came Through My Mind.

For This House Was Different,

It Was Dark And Dreary,

I Found The Home Of A Soldier,

Once I Could See Clearly.

The Soldier Lay Sleeping,

Silent, Alone,

Curled Up On The Floor

In This One Bedroom Home.

The Face Was So Gentle,

The Room In Such Disorder,

Not How I Pictured

A United States Soldier.

Was This The Hero

Of Whom I'd Just Read?

Curled Up On A Poncho,

The Floor For A Bed?

I Realized The Families

That I Saw This Night,

Owed Their Lives To These Soldiers

Who Were Willing To Fight.

Soon Round The World,

The Children Would Play,

And Grownups Would Celebrate

A Bright Christmas Day.

They All Enjoyed Freedom

Each Month Of The Year,

Because Of The Soldiers,

Like The One Lying Here.

I Couldn't Help Wonder

How Many Lay Alone,

On A Cold Christmas Eve

In A Land Far From Home.

The Very Thought

Brought A Tear To My Eye,

I Dropped To My Knees

And Started To Cry.

The Soldier Awakened

And I Heard A Rough Voice,

"Santa Don't Cry,

This Life Is My Choice;

I Fight For Freedom,

I Don't Ask For More,

My Life Is My God,

My Country, My Corps."

The Soldier Rolled Over

And Drifted To Sleep,

I Couldn't Control It,

I Continued To Weep.

I Kept Watch For Hours,

So Silent And Still

And We Both Shivered

From The Cold Night's Chill.

I Didn't Want To Leave

On That Cold, Dark, Night,

This Guardian Of Honor

So Willing To Fight.

Then The Soldier Rolled Over,

With A Voice Soft And Pure,

Whispered, "Carry On Santa,

It's Christmas Day, All Is Secure."

One Look At My Watch,

And I Knew He Was Right.

"Merry Christmas My Friend,

And To All A Good Night."

For an Angel on His Birthday

Happy Birthday to an Angel

May you know how much you’re missed

By all of those whose lives you touched

Which are more than I could list.

May you enjoy this day

With your Father above,

In the light of His glory,

And wrapped in His love.

My prayers are with your family and friends

Who all are missing you so.

The ones who stood beside you

Through the years, and watched you grow

From a small boy full of mischief,

To a grown man proud and tall,

To a warrior filled with courage,

A fallen soldier who gave all.

Thank you, dear angel, for selflessly living

The life that you so freely gave

For love of your brothers, for love of your country,

The land of the free and the brave.

I’m sure of the words of our Father above

As into Heaven He welcomed you.

“Well done, my son, you’re finally home

My good servant, faithful and true.”

Happy Birthday Adam.

Did you PLAN your bear hunt in the wilderness?

Walking with God does not mean walking with him when it's convenient, through a problem-free life that we have all planned out.

You may want to re-read that. I’ll give you a second. Ready? Good. The above statement is something that has, at times, been hard for me to accept. I’ve never actually heard this statement anywhere, but I came up with it in an attempt to encompass three common misconceptions about walking with God that have been hindering my own spiritual journey.

First, walking with God means walking with Him through life and all that comes with it. It does not mean you walk with Him around the problems, or above the tragedies, or somehow pray your way out of hardships and trials. I remember in preschool or kindergarten, when we would sing the song about going on a bear hunt. I don’t remember it exactly, but it involved running into several obstacles along the way. One was a river. And what choices were we faced with when we came to the river? “Can’t go over it, can’t go under it, can’t go around it, gotta go through it.”

That’s how the Christian life works. You gotta go through it. But no worries, God is right there with you. In Hebrews 13:5 He promises us “Never will I leave you, never will I forsake you.”

Secondly, just because we’re walking with God doesn’t mean we get to make the plans. We can’t come up with a great plan, pray about it, and expect God to jump on board and bless it just because we ask Him to. That’s a little bit backwards. First you should pray about it then ask Him to show you how to follow His plan. So when something interrupts your plans, the question you’re faced with is this: Will I go with God on this journey, even though it’s not what I had planned? Will I go with Him anyway?

“In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps.” - Proverbs 16:9

Thirdly, walking with God does not mean walking with Him when it’s convenient, or when it serves our purposes, or when we think we will get something out of it. Basically, we need to either decide to walk with God 100%, or get out of the way. The decision to walk with God, and stay with Him, is not always going to look like the most exciting choice. Suppose someone gave you these two options:

1. Walk with God down this path and receive tons of blessings, or

2. Walk your own path, follow your own plans, and end up misguided and frustrated.

Obviously, this would be an easy choice. Now suppose someone gave you these options:

1. Walk with God down this path and lose your sense of worldly security (financial, social, etc), and face trials that will ultimately serve to make you grow, but will be painful. Or,

2. Walk your own path and live a relatively comfortable life with no intrusive obstacles along the way.

A slightly more difficult decision, right? I am not trying to over-simplify what it means to choose God’s ways over our own. I’m just trying to make the point that choosing the path God wants doesn't mean we’re choosing a painless, obstacle-free journey. But it does mean we have Him right beside us all along the way.

Right now I’m doing a Bible study that centers on the Israelites’ deliverance from Egypt, their journey to the Promised Land, and all the wandering they do in the meantime. The study invites each person to be willing to follow God into the “wilderness”, whatever that may be for him/her.

Everyone does not face the same wilderness. It may be something tragic that happens in your life. You lose a loved one, or lose a job, or a marriage that you thought would last forever begins to fall apart. It could simply be a situation that is frustrating you, because it’s not “what you had planned.” It could be something more voluntary, where you have to make the choice between journeying into the wilderness or staying safely where you are. However your individual wilderness manifests itself, the basic principles are the same.

Often when God allows a wilderness opportunity into our lives, it’s because He sees potential in us to be more and do more in our walk with Him. He’s not letting things into our lives because He’s mad at us, or because we haven’t passed some unwritten test. He does it so we will grow.

Don’t expect a short journey through the wilderness. You may get a short one, but don’t expect one. God will allow you to remain in your wilderness, face-to-face with it, until He has used it to fully develop your potential and cause you to grow. Remember that when you’re facing something in your life, before you attach any type of negative label to it, remember that God can use it for something positive. God’s ways are not our ways. There are no mistakes in His plan. The only mistake would be to not trust Him to lead you through that plan.

“‘For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,’ declares the Lord.” - Isaiah 55:8

Thoughts on Grieving

Sorry this first one is not all that cheerful. But I found this one in my "In Progress" folder and it was actually already complete! :)


Thoughts on grieving…

When we grieve, we grieve not only for the one we lost. We grieve for every single possibility that may have awaited us in our future. All the questions of “what if” and “if only”, which begin to creep into our heads the very second that person is taken from us.

“What if he hadn’t been at the wrong place at the wrong time?”
“What if he had somehow lived through it?”
“What if I had said more often how I felt?”
“What if he had made it back home safely?”
“What if we were meant for each other?”

We can’t run from the questions. Well, we can run from them, but not forever, and not with good results. Not only must we turn around and face these nagging, unanswerable questions... We must take each one in turn, walk with it down the road of the mind’s eye, accompany it to the dead-end that awaits, and watch helplessly as it dies a slow, agonizing death. Then we must trek back to the starting point, only to pick up another unanswerable question and begin the same journey once more.

To me, there is a very fine line between working through grief and torturing yourself. Honestly, the process is the same, the questions are the same. But the factors which determine which result you’ll get (healing or torment) are your attitude, your faith, and your determination not to become completely overcome by the grief.

It’s important to understand that it’s okay to have a bad day. Grieving is not supposed to be some neat, orderly process, where each day is always better than the ones before. Some days you just can’t face the grief, and that’s okay. Don’t push yourself to. Heaven knows it will still be there waiting for you when you’re ready to pick it back up again and face it. But don’t hide out too long, either. The anger and grief will fester and eat at you until the day comes when you must either release the grief or let it destroy you.

I think one thing that makes grieving so hard is being overly concerned with whether or not you’re doing it right, or fast enough, or slowly enough. I know for me, I was terrified of not going through the grieving process correctly and at an acceptable pace, for fear that I would have to retrace my steps, or end up emotionally scarred for a lifetime. So after reading up a bit on the topic of grieving, I picked up several tips. Some were from educated professionals who study the mind, and some from caring souls who have walked the road already and want to help out those who come behind them. So, here is my advice… my one all-encompassing tip on grieving.

Gather together every piece of advice on grieving and loss, whether you consider it to be good or bad. Print it out and put it all together in a notebook. Got it? Now throw that notebook as far away from you as possible. Or set the thing on fire. Feel better? Didn’t think so. Feel alone and vulnerable and petrified and directionless? Good. You have to work through your grief in your own way, and in your own time. You cannot borrow someone else’s notes and cheat on this test. Doesn’t work that way. Suppose someone tells you to go through five stages, in this specific order, and allow 3-5 weeks for each. But you really needed only 3 stages, and you needed 6 months in each. You may very well end up at least temporarily, if not irreversibly, screwed up. That grieving plan, though it may have worked for someone else, is not your own individual plan, and it will not work for you.

All notebook-burning joking aside… Here is what I would suggest, and what I will hopefully do the first time around whenever I have cause to grieve again. Pray. Ask God to make you sensitive to what you need, when you need it. Trust. You have to know that you can depend on God completely during this entire process. Give yourself freedom. When you feel like crying, cry. When you feel like looking through old letters and pictures, do it. When you feel like writing, write. When you feel like dying, fight. When you don’t think you can think about it for one more second, don’t. Think about something else. Or someone else. One of the best ways to get your mind off yourself and your problems is to reach out and do something for someone else.

Just know that God will get you through it. Lean on Him and trust Him with all your heart.


Psalm 23

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not be in want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my
cup overflows.
Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of
the LORD forever.

I'm back...

Well, I know it's been about 9 months since I've written anything for this blog. I was able to get some posts cranked out at the last minute before leaving for Basic Training, and get those auto-published while I was in BMT, but I haven't done anything since then. I'm back now, though, so please feel free to breathe that sigh of relief and return, finally, to getting a full night's rest.

I have an entire folder full of "in progress" blogs that are in various stages of development. So I'm going to try to finish some of those, and then return to creating new ones. Of course, they're all new to you, the reader, so I basically just wasted time and energy writing this entire paragraph.

Aren't you glad I'm back? :)

Rocket Coffee

At the train stations in Italy, there are drink machines and vending machines beside virtually every track in every station. We tried lots of different things, but our favorite was a type of candy we fondly refer to as “Rocket Coffee.” It is chocolate candy filled with liquid coffee. You bite into it, and your mouth is filled with coffee. Strange at first, yes, but incredibly addicting and wonderful. Especially in the afternoon when you’ve been walking forever and you’re starting to drag. It’s really called Pocket Coffee but we apparently didn’t look very closely at it, and now the name has stuck.

Grappa

Mom and I had plans to have a picnic in one of the parks. We went into a grocery store and found some fruit, cheese, and bread. We wanted to get some grapes, so Mom oh-so-confidently marches up to one of the store workers and asks where she might find “grappa”. We were slightly confused as he headed away from the produce, and then stopped in front of the wine section, pointing, and repeating “grappa.” I’m sure he was disappointed and probably somewhat frustrated when we didn’t purchase any wine… I don’t think we ever found any grapes. :)

Paged in Rome

My Mom and I are planners. We are list people. We have lists for our lists. We have an item on our to-do list that says “Make a list of to-do lists to make.” Haha. We do not like to be late, and we like to be prepared. Oh, and neither of us necessarily likes to be the center of attention. I point these things out to you so you will keep them in the back of your mind as you read this next story.

Our flight home from Italy had one stop. We flew from Florence to Rome, and then from Rome to Atlanta. Our layover in Rome was about 3 or 4 hours, if I remember correctly. We had missed seeing St. Peter’s during our visit to Rome earlier in our trip, so we actually toyed with the idea of zipping over there and seeing it before our flight left. Being the sensible gals that we are, we decided against it, thinking it more prudent to just hang around the vicinity of the airport until our next flight. We had a blast wandering all over the airport, people-watching, shopping, and just walking around. We got our last serving of gelato, and ate it while sitting next to a window that was right beside the runway. Mom and I are both fascinated with planes, so we sat there forever watching planes take off and land.

Finally, we decided we should go ahead and start making our way to our gate. On the way there I stopped at the ladies’ restroom. It was quite crowded, so I was standing in line… All of a sudden mom dashes into the bathroom, eyes wide, and says, “They are paging us to our gate!!!” Forgetting any necessity of bodily functions, I immediately followed her out, and we proceeded to practically run to our gate. We finally got there and the two people working there verified who we were, and then practically shoved us through the terminal. We boarded the plane where dozens of passengers were patiently (ha) waiting.

This story is just a testament of the irony that exists in both of our lives, especially mine. With a four hour layover, most people would have tried to squeeze in some last minute sight-seeing or shopping. Not us. Being the ever responsible travelers, we had decided to just park it and wait until it was time for our flight. And in doing so, we just about missed our flight. :)

My sleep aid contraption

We had a few very long train rides while we were in Italy. Many times we were very tired, having walked all day, speed-touring the various bustling Italian cities. You know what it’s like when you fall asleep in a sitting position, like in a car or on a plane. Your eyelids start drooping, until it’s like pure torture to hold them open. Your head starts to feel like it’s about 60 pounds. Eventually you allow your eyes to close, and you are able to enjoy the first 2 or 3 minutes of your sleep in an upright and civilized (albeit totally unnatural) body position. But then your muscles relax, and your head falls forward slowly, until your chin is on your chest. Or until it slams into the window of whatever mode of transportation on which you happen to be riding.

Furious at the law of gravity for not allowing my head to stay in an upright position while sleeping, I hastily sought to fashion a contraption whose sole purpose would be to keep my head back while I slept on the train. I took a quick look around me and immediately my eyes landed on my oh-so-hip travel bag. This bag had a shoulder strap. I immediately saw the potential. I carefully placed the top part of the shoulder strap against my forehead, and held it there as I slung the bag over the back of my seat. Looking back, this plan does not seem quite as intelligent as I had thought. Innovative and efficient? Perhaps. Intelligent? Not so much. Painful? Quite. But hindsight is always 20/20, so do not judge. I was desperate for sleep. Anyway, needless to say, the contraption did not quite work as planned. The shoulder strap slipped from my forehead down to my neck just as the bag dropped over the back of the chair. Essentially I had attempted a hanging. I am going to post a picture on here. It does not do the situation justice, but you’ll get the general idea.

Duomo di Milano

One of Mom’s favorite things in Italy was the churches. She loved to walk slowly around each one, soaking up each detail. The first one we went in on our trip (I couldn’t tell you which city it was in), I too took a slow stroll around the interior, taking in the details of the walls, sculptures, and stained glass. I enjoyed the dark, cool dampness of the air. It was a welcome change from the hot sun outside. I amused myself long enough for mom to finish looking around. Then we went back outside and continued our journey through whatever city we were in. In my mind, I had mentally checked “Visit church in Italy” off my to-do list. Haha. Little did I know that Italy has so MANY churches and cathedrals, and somehow I had forgotten just how much my mom likes to visit them.

We spent one day in Milan. Honestly, the main reason I wanted to stop here was just to be able to say I’d been. There really wasn’t anything I specifically was dying to see. I knew Milan to be a major fashion-minded city. Meaning they had lots of stores full of lots of clothes and accessories I could not afford without taking out a loan.

When we got to Milan, we took the underground train from the train station to a point in the city that we knew would be close to the “Duomo di Milano.” (Duomo means church/cathedral in Italian. See, I did learn some things in Italian after all.) We climbed the stairs that led from the train to the streets of Milan. Taking a cursory glance around, I immediately spotted the enormous cathedral. I said, “Oh, wow, it’s so pretty!” Then I continued looking around, and said “So, what’s next?” HA. Mom thought that was hilarious. I would soon learn that she not only wanted to see the inside of this cathedral, she wanted to inspect every last square inch, take note of every sculpture and piece of stained glass, and basically check the building for structural soundness. :)

The First Bus Ride

Before we left for Italy, Mom and I would sit for hours and plan the details of our trip. We each picked out places we wanted to visit, things we wanted to do, and tried to think of things we would need to know before we landed ourselves in a foreign-speaking country. Mom purchased several travel books, which of course had some common and useful phrases translated into Italian. Being the dedicated, diligent traveler, she wanted to learn at least some of the basics in Italian to help in our day-to-day adventures. She asked me if I was going to learn any Italian before our trip, and I said “Nah.” She said, “Well what are you going to do when you need to say something to somebody? “ I said, “I won’t need to speak to anyone over there except you, and you speak English.” She said, “What about in a restaurant, when you’re trying to order food?” I said, “I’ll point” and I held up my finger and demonstrated with prideful satisfaction.

When we finally arrived in Florence, 13 hours after leaving Atlanta, Mom and I were both dead on our feet. You know that level of exhaustion where you cannot think clearly, let alone navigate in a foreign country where you don’t understand the native language. We made it out of the airport, and across the street to the bus stop. The plan was to ride the bus to the train station, and take a train to Pisa. Standing at the bus stop, backpacks strapped on, suitcases the size of Pisa itself sitting beside us, we waited. We had gone to an ATM inside the airport, to get some money out in Euros. The smallest currency we had was 50 Euros, or roughly $75. We panicked for a bit, trying to decide if we should go back in the airport and get change, wondering if the bus driver would take such a large amount, if he would even have change, and most importantly, how the heck we would ask him whether he would take that amount and if he had any change.

So, when the bus finally arrived, I left my poor mother standing on the sidewalk with our mountain of baggage, and joined the crowd of people who were filing onto the bus 4 at a time, and paying the driver 1 at a time. When it was my turn to hand my money to the driver, I held up two fingers to indicate that I wanted two tickets, and I shoved the 50 Euros into his hand. He didn’t bat an eye as he handed me my change and two tickets. Success! Except that my mother and everything I owned was still sitting outside the bus on the sidewalk. Looking back over the heads of fifteen people, I looked at her helplessly, wondering if I’d ever see her again. Haha. I must have really looked that forlorn, because some of the people in line behind me saw what was going on, and allowed mom to squeeze through, and even helped us get our luggage onto the bus. Now if I had attempted to get on that bus and say in Italian “Two tickets please” and “Do you have change for a 50?” I probably would have butchered the language, and landed us in some unknown, forsaken desert in Italy. You may be thinking, “There aren’t any deserts in Italy” but that’s what they want you to believe. It’s where they toss all of the idiotic tourists who hold up the line at the bus stop.

Tuna

My mom and I went on a trip to Italy last May. It was so much fun, and Italy was absolutely amazing, with breath-taking scenery. I would go back in a second. Mom and I talk about our trip frequently - about the funny things that happened, the things we would like to go back and see or do, etc. Anyway, we just had so much fun, and we had a few pretty funny stories, so I thought I’d share some of them here.

Oh, and don’t worry, I am not secretly blogging during basic training. I discovered the secret of scheduling posts for future dates. Hahahahaha. I’m so clever it’s kind of scary. ANYWAY, the next several posts will be Italy-related. So grab a coke, sit back and enjoy. But do so with guilt, knowing that is probably NOT what I am doing right now… =)

Our “home base” while we were in Italy was the city of Pisa. On some days we made day trips and then returned to Pisa for the night. On other days we traveled further distances and would spend the night in another city. But, let me start from the beginning:
We departed from Atlanta on an evening flight. We were flying from Atlanta to Paris, and from Paris to Florence. We were served dinner first… I think it was pretty late, maybe around 9 or 10 pm? After dinner the flight attendants gently closed the shades on the windows, and pretty much everyone leaned back, sighed a collectively cramped sigh, and tried to sleep. Much the same way a sardine tries to catch some shut-eye when he’s in the sardine can with his buddies.

About 4 hours later (yes, 2 am), the flight attendants, who only hours before had seemed human, snatched up the window shades, allowing a brilliantly bright light to come flooding into the cabin. “Surely not,” I thought. But surely indeed… A few seconds later I heard “good morning everyone, breakfast is about to be served.” Come on people. It’s 2 am. You can try to trick me all you want with your sunshine and perky attitudes. But I have on a watch. I am not fooled. It is TWO FREAKIN O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING. So while I’m still reeling from this unpleasant jolt of morning perkiness, they begin serving breakfast. I don’t remember everything that was in that breakfast, but I remember one thing that was on my plate – tuna.
So, after a trilingual greeting over the intercom: “Good Morning, Bonjour, Buon giorno,” I ate my breakfast. Tuna. At 2:00 in the morning. At least it wasn’t sardines.

Note: At least 3 of our subsequent in-flight meals included tuna. blech.

Leaving

For the last five or six years I have been interested in joining the Air Force. Up until this year, I had talked myself into thinking that it was a crazy dream that I shouldn’t try to pursue… that I wouldn’t have what it takes, and that the desire would pass in time. But it did not go away, and after lots and lots and lots of praying, I’ve realized that it truly is part of God’s plan for my life. I also have always been interested in medicine, and have had an overwhelming desire to help others. Which is what led me to the desire to pursue nursing. I just wasn’t sure how to go about getting through nursing school while holding down a full time job.

Now I am being given the chance to go for both dreams – the Air Force and nursing. I am so grateful and thankful, and I should be so full of faith. And I am, about 95% of the time. The remaining 5% of the time I spend wondering if I have what it takes. Not physically or even mentally… I know I can handle what’s coming once I get to Texas. It’s what has to happen before that. I don’t know how in the world I am ever going to say goodbye to my family and my friends. I have known no other life than the one I have here. I have gone to the same church my whole life, lived in the same city (or at least within a 20 mile radius of it) my entire life. Some of my friends have been with me from the beginning. We were in the nursery together, played on the playground together as kids, struggled through the awkward teenage years, and learned how to be adults together.

The concept of leaving is not a new one to me. What is new to me is being on this end of the goodbye. I have always been the one being left. Since I was a kid, I have grown attached to friends, only to have them move away and force me to say goodbye, and eventually (in most cases), lose touch. I have had people comment to me, “Gosh, everybody you get attached to really does pack up and move away, don’t they?” ha. So I am certainly no stranger to getting attached and having to let go. Again, what’s brand new to me is the whole experience of being the one leaving.

So please pray for me over the next few days, weeks, and months. I really am so grateful for this opportunity, and I am so thankful that God didn’t take this chance from me in spite of the fact that I took my sweet time to finally make the decision. But despite how obvious God’s calling on my life has become, it is still not easy to say goodbye.

The Beauty of Giving

God reassures one –
“See if I will not open the floodgates of heaven and pour out blessings.”

He instructs another –
“Do not become weary in doing good… As you have opportunity, do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers.”

Both step out in faith and obey.

One asks.

The other gives.

Blessings flow and hearts overflow.

The beautiful harmony of this give and take touches the life of the giver as much, if not more than, the receiver.

There is nothing more encouraging and comforting than seeing firsthand how God provides for His children. It prompts further acts of faith, pulling more and more people into its cycle of give and take.

That is how life should be for Christians. When the constant ebb and flow of blessings pour from and into our lives, and the lives of those around us, life is beautiful.

The Golden Rule

“The entire law is summed up in a single command: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” – Galations 5:14

“I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” – Matthew 25:40

“So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets.” – Matthew 7:12

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you , so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” - John 13:34-35

“Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves.” – Romans 12:10

“Each of us should please his neighbor for his good, to build him up.”
– Romans 15:2

In high school one of my teachers taught me something that has always stuck with me. She taught me that in all of our interactions with other people, we should keep the following thought at the forefront of our minds: “I have no idea what this person might be going through right now, so I will treat them with the utmost kindness.” A relatively simple approach to life, but so vital if we want to be ministers to others, and be a light in this dark world. When someone cuts in front of you in line at the grocery store, or some “jerk” in the car in front of you seems to have forgotten what the skinny pedal on the right is for…. Keep in mind that for all you know he may have a very good reason to be distracted. He may have just gotten some bad news, or lost his job, or lost a loved one.

*See through God’s eyes*
Ask God to help you see people through His eyes, not your own. It is truly an eye-opening experience because you will begin to see past the rough exterior, past the aggravating habits, and into the heart of someone who was made in the image of Christ. A person who is immensely vulnerable to Satan’s attacks unless he has someone willing to look at him the way his creator does. I have asked God to allow me to see people as He sees them, and at times it brings such sadness that I have to look away.

Next time you’re standing in line at Wal-Mart, or you’re waiting 16 hours to mail something at the post office, take a look at someone standing near you. Can you see it? If you picked someone well-dressed and successful-looking, then look past the designer clothes and picture-perfect hair. If you picked someone who looks a little less fortunate, look past the stained, torn clothing and unkempt appearance. Whoever you picked, look past those superficial, exterior things. Look into their eyes. Don’t you see it? There’s a hurt. And there’s a hunger. A hurt that could have come from any number of things. They may have been hurt emotionally, physically, or financially. Doesn’t really matter. And the hunger could be for food, attention, love, or appreciation. But it’s there. And you’ll see it if you decide not to brush past it in your rush to get out the door, into your car, and back home.

What can you do? Can you strike up a conversation with every person you see, determine what their need is, and then help meet that need? No, maybe not, but you can give them the one thing that every human being on this earth hungers and hurts for – kindness. Just by offering a smile and a kind word to that person, you may give them happiness for a moment, or you may brighten up their entire day, or you may fan a flame that God has started through the obedience of a faithful Christian. Why would an unsaved person ever ask himself “should I look into this Christianity thing?” if he cannot see a difference between the Christians and the non-Christians? For all you know, you could be the only occasion this person has ever had (or ever will have) to see Christ’s love.

*Be nice to everyone – even the mean people. Even when you don’t feel like it.*
Anybody can be nice to someone who is nice to them. If someone sees me showing kindness to a good friend, is that really a demonstration of God’s love to the fullest measure? Sure, we should be kind to our friends (don’t go punch your best friend the next time you see him or her). But what kind of witness is it to a non-believer when they see me always being kind to someone who is not kind to me in return?

We cannot base our actions towards others on our feelings. If you decide to wait until you feel loving and kind before you treat others with love and kindness, you will probably never act. Feelings are so fickle, and we cannot wait until we’re feeling a certain way before we do something God has commanded us to do. He didn’t say “When you feel like it, be devoted to one another”, or “When you’re in a good mood, build each other up”, or “IF your neighbor treats you well, then love that neighbor as yourself.”