Three

So 24 hours before I leave for Texas, for some warmth- on my skin and in my heart- it is 93 degrees here. Ninety-three degrees on the pavement, walking to and from, feels much hotter than 93 in the open spaces of Texas. It's more like 93 when you are sitting in traffic on LBJ in your car with no air-conditioner. Or on the back of a motorcycle. It's sweltering and heavy with humidity.

I couldn't even make it through my lunch hour in the direct sun at Bryant Park (my esthetician friend would be thrilled!), but hid in the shade and let my legs peak out, eating my broccoli and pear.

I'm hopeful for the summer, for parties, and rest and getting off at 1:00pm on Friday's until Labor Day. My sister will be in NYC completing an internship. My husband will have a car, to travel and explore. And, hopefully I'll be able to get away to the beach or some place new I've never been to, like Delaware or Rhode Island. Who knows? With a car the possibilities are endless...

My sister(s) hopeful, will pick me up from the airport tomorrow night. I love my sisters; I don't know where I'd be without them. I can not imagine growing up, in a world all my own, without these to sisters. Seriously, this is why I hesitate to have a kid. I mean if I have one kid, then I've gotta have like 3 or 4, because big families are more fun. But then again, I'm partial. Family time Friday and Saturday (maybe dad will take me for a ride on his Harley) followed by friend time on Sunday and Monday.

I can not wait!

My hair has just gotten long enough that I can pull it all back in a low ponytail without little strands falling out all the time. So today, I wore it half pulled back in a large barrette. So, I feel like a look a little like a bobblehead. Seriously, like with my hair swooped out of my face, my head is ginormous, or maybe my neck too small? I don't know.

A friend gave me these HUGE oversized sunglasses she was going to get rid of (and a coach bag... but that's another blog/story about how I'm a freeloader and proud of it) and today when I caught a glimpse of myself in the H&M window as I walked to bask in the sun at Bryant Park I thought- yikes, what a big head!

While trying to appear graceful and feminine like Jackie O., I think these sunglasses with this hairdo make my head appear frightfully big. (this pic was taken this weekend, I didn't to to work in a t-shirt and hoodie)

The sun is hot, Hot, HOT today and on my way to the subway I couldn't help but notice how we were all wearing sleeveless, or spaghetti straps or even strapless flirty dresses in bold prints and patterns. Of course we all "dressed it up" with a sweater, or cardigan or blazer- which helps for sunning during ones lunch hour, walking home at sunset, or after hours beverages. As long as I have on heels, nice jewelry and a cardigan then I don't feel like I'm going to the beach.

I realize this is unfair; the fact that many women become scantly clad in the office during the summer while men still wear suits and ties. In my office the dress is business/ business casual and I usually wear a suit or slacks and dress shirts. But in the summer, it's so temping to not to, because it's warm and business casual can mean cropped pants and khaki skirts.

But how far is too far? I tend to toe the line, to see what other girls wear do the same, even if I wouldn't normally consider it office appropriate. And not in the sense that it is too short or too low-cut, but jersey dresses, sleeveless tanks, flip-flops and beach skirts really don't have a place in the office, I don't think. And paint your toenails please, if you are going to show them off - in the office. (I have other "rules" for day-to-day living regarding toenails.)

I will say, however, I do work in an office full of European men who don't wear undershirts. And on Friday's I have seen loafers with no socks. I'm just sayin...

Road Trip!

"I am back at equilibrium," Chris announced to me yesterday. "Everything is perfect in the world."

What a rebound from the drama's of the weeks past. But in all sincerity, I think we all go through really crappy seasons- weeks where it seems like the only solution to maintaining any sort of desirable and otherwise joyful existence would be to either a.) move far far away or b.) (in Chris's case) retreat & prepare for all out life change.

In his lowest of lows he declares to me-

"You're going to leave me, because after all who would want to be with an unemployed man in NYC. Then I'll sell everything, break our lease, and live out of a van where I'll play guitar for people along the beaches and shorelines across the country." I picture him driving and old church van barefoot, with some gray haired mutt hanging it's head out the passengers side window.

Quite frankly, I like it when Chris has a five minute meltdown- even if they are only once a year. I had started to feel a little mental with my monthly explosions. But I know he doesn't talk about work to protect me. And I know he doesn't want to burden me with all that is weighing him down (even when I have no problem whatsoever telling him every detail of every problem I encounter every day...women!)

Speaking of living in a van, he's decided what his summer adventure will be, after purchasing a 1989 Volvo Station wagon yesterday. So, let the planning begin! He's thinking East Coast- Maine, Jersey Shore, and possibly as far south as Myrtle Beach, North Carolina. My husband is SUCH the wanderer and forever exploring. I've tried to encourage him to stay "in one place." Perhaps a friends home in San Francisco, or an cheep room in Vermont or Maine or anywhere, but for him the joy is in the journey.

He likes not knowing where he'll be from day to day. Not knowing what he'll see or what he'll experience. Truly living hour to hour. Me- not so much. It stresses me out just thinking about "not knowing" where I'm going or what I may encounter along the way. Plus, the drive from my hometown of Athens, Texas to Houston was about as much as I could handle. I still don't get the whole "road trip" mentality. Let's just get there already!

I prefer total immersion in a city/ culture/ destination, which is why I had to actually LIVE in New York City. I'm still trying to figure this place out. I like to vacation among the locals and get away from the tourists traps and "normal" hot spots of a city. Chris and I are very much alike in this, but I just don't see the appeal in being in a car for 5-6 hours every day, driving and looking and driving and looking. I want to get out, buy some stuff, walk in the grass, sit, write, eat some local produce or something.
...

The month before we moved to NYC we basically did just this: traveled through Yellowstone, up to Wyoming & Montana- staying in KOA's (which I had previously never heard of) and living out of our Nissan Altima, with our best friends the Stockhammers. While this was fun and I'd do it (with them !) again in a heartbeat, I was ready to be home. I don't like all the sitting involved. And all the meals in the car. And all the times that I wanted to stop and take a picture and was responded to with, "Drive by!" being yelled at me from two males in the front seats. Meaning, "Roll down your window and get ready to snap a photo because we are not stopping and you'll be lucky if I slow this car down to 40mph!!"

Chris loves the open road. I do not.

Kicking off the Summer

In one week I'll be in Texas.
Grilling veggies in the backyard,
planting flowers in my friends flowerbeds,
driving a freaking car!
I'll be sweating in the humid Texas air, walking barefoot in the grass, getting bit by fire-ants, hugging people who've known me the longest & sharing Braums Ice Cream with siblings.
I'll be getting a Texas priced haircut from the best hairdresser ever & playing on Tessa's swing-set.

I can't wait to kick off the summer in Texas, Y'all!

A Hug in a Box (or Better than FREE Vegan Chocolate)

Yesterday I got an email from Chris saying that we had received a package sent via USPS and it was waiting with our doorman. (Our building has this new system in place which allows residents to receive emails when they have a delivery or dry-cleaning at the front desk. Super fancy. There is also a large TV screen in place when you walk in the lobby that displays which apartment units have packages/ laundry to pick-up. And you sign on a touch pad device- nice.) Anyway, when Chris got this alert yesterday at work and emailed me I immediately thought, "Yes, it must be my free vegan chocolate I won almost eight weeks ago. It's finally here!"

But, when we got home last night around 9:30 after choir rehearsal I was shocked to find a box from my BFF in Texas. Inside she had baked a hug just for me. She had sent a hug in a box across the country and included this poem by Shel Silverstein who is best known for his books A Light in the Attic and Where the Sidewalk Ends, or at least that is how I know him best! My friend baked me cookies and somehow drew this very recognizable illustration on the cookie! I can't even draw a decent flower on a sheet of paper, much less on something edible and have it look this good. My friend is so talented and I'm thankful for her thoughtfulness.

After writing the poem out for me she wrote, "you don't have to eat these. They are not vegan, or sugar-free and I think they're kind of burnt." Are you kidding me, NOT eat pretty cookies- that's just insane. I had two for supper at 9:30 last night and they were possibly the best thing I'd tasted all day long; homemade sugar cookies, Mmmm.

My friends, co-workers, and now my own mother are concerned about my stress. My "wound up" state, the fact that I'm always on to the next thing on my To Do list. (which I do keep color coded in my datebook with special pens/ finetip Sharpies and highlighters)
Anyway, I've been ministered to lately alot by the song Free by Shawn McDondald.

"I feel like my heart is being beat, down into the ground. And in You I'm longing for some peace to be found. I feel like the weight of the world is crashing down on me & somehow I just don't believe this is how it is supposed to be.

I want to be Free. Free to run and free to sing. Free to live and love and free to be me."

I love these lyrics. I have listened to this song repeatedly on my iPhone, this and the Awakening by Sara Groves

"I know that I'm not perfect, but compare me to most. In a world of hurt and a world of anger I think I'm holding my own...
I've known now for quite awhile that I'm not whole, I've remembered the body and the mind, but I've dissected my soul."

AND, I don't think it's coincidence that THIS happens to be the song that I'm leading out on during worship this coming Sunday:

I have seen with my own eyes
Your faithfulness O God
So I refuse to believe
The lies that war against my soul
You rescued me from all my fears
And loosed the chains of wasted years (from: Savior)

So, where am I going with this? Well, It just amazes me how God has such BIG plans and things are not happenstance and don't just fall into place. I realize that Satan may just have his hand on my head trying to squash me down, my spine collapsing and squishing like an accordion.

But I know Jesus holds me in his hand. I know I am truly free when I live in the confience and grace that His love provides. Knowing it and living like it's real can be two seperate things. Sometimes you find a Bible verse or a song or a hug in the shape of a sugar cookie that put things in perspective- and sometimes all in one day.

Perception is Reality

This may be the one thing I walked away from journalism school with- perception is reality. Okay, maybe not the only thing- I learned alot about Voltaire, media ethics and the phrase "evoked set." This is what I paid $$$ The Big Bucks for: to get a Master's of Journalism. I have a masters degree. And I am a receptionist, "Hello, welcome to the real world."

In any case, I have had a heavy heart these past few days. Seriously, I'm aware of each beat of my heart. Even though they (whoever they are) say that your heartbeat is an involuntary function, it seems completely opposite to me as of late. Each pulsing squeeze and release. It's as if something is sitting on my chest, and perhaps in a metaphorical way, some thing is. (No, I'm not having a stroke, I already Googled it, spent time on WebMD, and called my Pharmacist sister.) But in those moments I panic, for some unknown reason, and then when I experience the physical results of "freaking out" I really get worried. In my reality- I'm dieing.

I feel bad when I realize that I don't know how to manage my stress or find an appropriate outlet for my worries. I've been saying to friends lately, "You need an outlet, you need an outlet!!" And yet, I wonder about my own outlet. I don't even have REAL stress, real issues- and somehow I work myself into a tizzy trying to "stay calm."

To look at my calendar this week, I don't appear that busy, but I just put myself under alot of unnecessary pressure. I think my mind is constantly reeling. (See, I think, I can't even tell you if my mind is constantly reeling --- how sad is that?) I'm thinking about: packing for Texas, throwing a baby shower, pictures I need to edit for our Spring Concert, learning some music (because I already know most of it) for previously mentioned Spring Concert, my position as Promotional Strategist for the Willow Creek Summit (we are a host site) and what the heck I'm supposed to be doing in this position, cooking a warm dinner for my husband, preparing a lunch for previously mentioned husband, being a good friend (ie listening, responding to emails timely, writing letters, calling, texting, Facebooking when needed), and oh yeah, I have a desk job from 9-6 Monday - Friday.

I do like being busy. That is not the problem. I love hosting. I love using my creative abilities. And, I really gained alot of energy and felt instantly revived after spending Sunday afternoon with those three gals, but I must quiet my mind. For real!!!

I just read a friends blog about her experiences with her new camera, and I am a lover of photography myself. Being in NYC I try to have my camera with me much of the time- you never know what you might see. But, I've also realized that when I'm somewhere, experiencing something, it's hard to remain "in the moment" from behind the lens. When I'm trying to get the right shot or perfect angle I forget that the moment will end. The rainbow will fade, the sun will set, the bird will fly away- and maybe I'll not hear, see, or know what I was supposed to in that moment because I was not listening, looking or mentally present. How very sad.

Maybe it's just age. I'm afraid something will be "wrong" with my physical body. I'm afraid of illness and dieing (Last weekend I was in some pain and looked up at Chris with tears streaming down my face and said, "I don't want to get old.") And as odd as it may seem, ever since I turned 30- it doesn't bother me that people assume I'm much younger. It's as if overnight I'm fine with being perceived as a 20-something. Things like "great skin" and "you have good genes" (Seriously, got that one last week! HA!) make me feel good. I'm just realizing that we have really limited time here on Earth and I don't want to miss an opportunity.

Today, during my lunch hour, I took the train to 59th street up from Grand Central Station to take a CD of pictures to our IT/ web designer/ multi media specialist/ jack of all trades for the choir spring event. Hopefully, some of my images will end up on some marketing materials & used for the background images on slides during praise and worship... Anyway, I took the CD there, but couldn't find the person I needed to give it to, so instead I just sat in the dark, empty sanctuary and reflected. Prayed. Was forced into a stillness that I embraced because it felt so freaking good. It was a retreat of sorts for 20-30 minutes, instead of my normal lunch spent in the loudness of Grand Central Station.

I'm glad our God is constant. Not effected by economic downturn or natural disasters or illness or STRESS. He's not even suprised when I don't feel like it. He is the same as he's always been. I find it encouraging that even in my drama and at times, emotionally driven decisions, He just is.

Veggie Gals

Yesterday, after church, I spent my afternoon with my fellow veggie gals at the Veggie Day Parade, (duh, where else?)

The Veggie Pride Parade, was more like a march- and it was over by the time we made it down to Union Square after church. I'm not too sad about missing out on the march- I mean those Vegans are pretty unapologetic, preachy and dogmatic in their beliefs. BUT, we did get lots of free stuff, Lara Bars, Raw Food Bars, vegan jerky and treats from Whole Earth Bakery and The V Spot.

I am not a vegan, nor have a ever been. I have been a vegetarian, then a vegetarian who ate sea-food (pescaterian) now I'm a flexiterian, but hey- I'm not really one for classifications or categories anyway...

Honestly, I can go days, without eating meat, and not even notice it. I'm not a big meat eater, I don't crave it or love the way it tastes. I just needed more protein- affordable, easy to prepare protein. Not to mention the fact that I'm married to a 6'5" big-time meat eater. So, I caved.

Some of the people we encountered, however, who were showing their "veggie pride" were really "bashing carnivores." It wasn't just pro-veggie, it was anti-meat. These people were seriously passionate about not milking cows and not eating honey. Which, I won't get into here, but my reply (to friends & family) is, "I'm from Texas. We have a deer-stand in our backyard. We caught and ate the fish out of our pond all summer long." Me personally, I'm not going to try and persuade, convince or convert my meat-eating friends and family. But I do think less meat is better. Simple foods are better- less ingredients, the closer it is to the dirt from which it came. Seriously.

I've threatened to start a garden in our living room in order to take advantage of the floor to ceiling windows. But I think it could get a little out of hand.

I loved spending the afternoon with a couple of my favorite people, wandering in the sunshine through The Lower East Side without an agenda. We made some new friends, found some quirky shops and discovered the decadent Red Velvet dairy-free ice-cream at Stogo.

I really needed it. I need these gals.

Golden Rule

So, we are wrapping up the Sermon on the Mount sermon series at church, which we've been discussing since before Christmas--- since Fall! Why? Well, the sermon on the mount is pretty much where Jesus- God in the flesh- is saying, "Here is what really matters. Here's what it all boils down to." And it's pretty simple. I mean it's not simple in that it's do-able. It's simple in that it is what it is. The words mean what the words mean.

Love thy neighbor. Period.

Angry/ bitter/ remorseful - not good. Same as murder. Not good.

Adultery is more than a physical sin. Looking with lust. Not good.

Divorce, Oaths, prayer, fasting--- all of these are discussed and in pretty simple terms y'all. It's not rocket science.

So, this Sunday was all about living the Golden Rule. Our pastor challenged us to live each day, to see each encounter as on opportunity to do unto others. To live our lives this week with Golden Rule colored glasses on.

I like to think I'm a nice person, I do. I like to think that I smile, nod and act interested- even when I'm not. (See the problem here?) It's a heart issue. I mean, yes, I stopped a guy on the subway platform just this Wednesday morning, who had dropped some paperwork and didn't even realized. (+1) I'm throwing a baby shower in my apartment (+1) I work hard and do my job as unto the Lord, even when it feels like no one else cares. And takes advantage. And is dishonest, cheats, and are otherwise anything but civil to fellow employees. (+3)

---

See how good I am at this- I mean really? BUT... I know I am not always patient, kind, loving or even care about others. I am pretty selfish. Which is why I didn't want to go to choir rehearsal. (It was rainy and cold &, well going home just sounded more fun than singing praises to the Lord.) And it's why I am considering spending the upwards of $800 on something totally for me. Something totally elaborate and self gratifying. Which is why I spend WAY too much time getting ready in the morning. (When Chris pointed this out to me & I could tell by his tone he wasn't kidding, I was sort of embarrassed. Like, how good do I think I need to look? This is not a beauty pageant. It's not my high school prom or my wedding day, for crying out loud...)

---

It's totally a heart issue. Like why do I do what I do, because people are watching? Because I'm afraid of what people will say- if I don't? Because I'm trying to earn point with God? Because I can check, "Read Beth Moore devotional for the day" off my Christian To Do list?

---

Our pastor says that it's not what we pray. But it's the God that we pray to. He already knows, he created us for crying out loud. He just wants our time. He wants our talent and all that we are & hope to become. And He wants us to treat others the way we want to be treated- not in a "we are the world, we are the children ...." sort of way. Not in a "Kumbaya around the campfire" sort of way. But real. Real Love. That is honest, confrontational, accountable, forgiving and accepting.

i wish

I wish I used my time wisely. I read an article just today about how we are a nation of people who like to “look” busy, but may really not be. I mean, granted my job is receptionist/ support staff/ help out as needed- therefore I have a lot of filler time. A lot of time to write. Write. Write.

I booked a trip to Texas during Memorial Day weekend- and I can’t wait. Already I have (most) of my days outlined and planned. I’m seriously looking forward to sweating my butt off in the blazing hot Texas sun! (As it was 41 degrees here this morning when I woke up!!) I know we (ie I) vent a lot about the weather, but come on already! We New Yorkers love to hate this place. We love to complain about living here- but we refuse to leave.

When I’m home I’ll see my family and best gals & I’ll get my haircut at a reasonable price. I love seeing my h/cutter- we’ve been together many, many years, and hair styles too. I’m glad I have friends who have been with me many years- many haircuts, boyfriends, pant sizes and tastes in music.

This weekend Titanic was on television- and I was “in charge of the remote!” Chris was franticly searching Craigslist for a car/ van/ motorcycle/ ANY mode of transportation to get him out of the city for yet another summer road trip. “If you are on the computer then I get the remote.” And I picked Titanic.

I was immediately eighteen again and realized how the movie- the scenes the dialog shook me to the core. The first time I saw it my two best friends and I watched it alone, at midnight at the Cinema 4 in Athens, and we were affected so much so that our bodies convulsed with tears, tears which welled up from our hormonally charged need for a boy. Need for someone to love us- for the perfect relationship... (teenage angst that was so, very real in the moment.) Watching the movie then, I was overwhelmed with emotion- because, well, I’m not really sure why- only I felt that it was so romantic and so relatable. And even though now I realize that a lot of the scenes are so melodramatic and the dialogue cliché, I’m immediately that eighteen year old girl again.

I could recall entire scenes line for line & Chris just rolled his eyes at me. My two friends and I worked at the theatre, so we were the first to get to see it, and were prided ourselves in that fact. Our midnight viewing was not the only time we watched this movie. EVERY night we worked we’d sneak in the back of the smallish theatre just to watch our favorite scenes. Of course, right?

I’m thankful that these ladies are still my friends- over ten years later. And I will never forget dancing the Irish jig in the back of the theatre night, after night, after night.

On the Street Where You Live

So, it's been a pretty rough week here on Chambers Street. I realize that my blogs can be pretty vague in regards to what is really going on in our lives. Someone asked me recently what my job was- what I did all day from 9-5 to earn a living. I realized then that I never really say what I do for work. Or what Chris does. What goes on in our personal lives.

I realize that I do talk about my issues, everything I see, hear, experience and what I really think about pretty much all of it. But I don't use this blog to say, "I am a receptionist in midtown Manhattan." Not too exciting. BUT- the people, the people are what inspire me. Unfortunately, I forget to let the ones I love most in on the important life changes, adventures and otherwise exciting news that goes on in the Chambers' home. BUT- I'll not share those things here. Still. Sorry. But know, I would tell you anything face-to-face, heart-to-heart. I think you know I would- if you really know me and how honest I am.

BY THE WAY- I have been asked twice now about the previous post and yes, I did write it. No, I've never overdosed or been a divorcee- but I did write it. At first I didn't know whether to be offended or flattered when I was asked, but I took it as a compliment and later found out it was meant as such. A "modern day Psalm" - what a heartfelt, sincere compliment. Y'all are too nice. XO

So the week's been full of "sexy weather" as the Austrian in the office announced to me today. Today I spent my lunch hour in Union Square- yes that's one stop on the express train- but is so much more pleasurable that walking up and down Madison Avenue. Midtown SUCKS--- Bah, it's just where "we all work." So, Union Square. Lunch hour. I bought an apple for 50 cents and a bag of my favorite Martin's Pretzels for $1.00. The sunshine, the fresh herb plants and the man playing an upright bass the jazz trio really made me happy.

As folks gathered around the musicians: tourists, locals, guys with huge cameras and kids on scooters there was a white haired man dancing. The jazz trio played and he moved. He moved like they were playing for him- it was his song, with his own choreographed routine. He reminded me so much of my Grandaddy dancing the jig at our wedding in October 2006. Just doing his thing. Living life, because after-all we are not promised tomorrow.

In my own life I'm realizing some things about myself recently such as: I like metallic colored summer shoes. That most of my jewelry is earthy - with vines or leaves or birds. That I don't drink the last sip of anything. That half and half kicks skim milks butt in coffee. That I will spend ridiculously too much time on my hair- and have been known to do this since I was like eight. That Lesueur English Peas, petite clothing departments and Steinway pianos will always make me think of my Nana. That I like the group Little Big Town. That I had a perfectly wonderful childhood. That I have brand loyalty when it comes to toilet paper, dish soap, laundry detergent, tampons and Chris's deodorant (Old Spice- Fresh Scent- the kind that clicks up- I think it's called Invisible Solid, anyway, I know the packaging.) Anything else- I'll switch it up.

Life on Chambers Street is not always easy, but I don't know any street that it is. I'm sorry if I'm too vague or too in-your-face at times. I was telling a co-worker about my most recent piece that got published and after discussing it for a bit I let him read it. I think he was shocked at how real and open I was. He was says, "Wow that must have been the hardest thing you've ever written." And although it was hard to write, it was not the hardest thing I've ever written.

Alot of writing is hard. And I don't want to just "spill my guts" or use this blog as a sounding board, although I'm sure I walk the line. I remember once while writing and revising and trying to say just the right word or put the syntax or order- the flashbacks and what happened when. And all the sudden it clicked. And I understood another piece of the puzzle. Why it was hard for me to write at all in the first place. What I never got before. How I had disassociated myself with some aspect of it all. What I always missed. And suddenly, tears streaming down my face, I got it.

That's what I hope to evoke in readers. The Ah-Ha! moment. The getting it. The "I've so felt that before" or "I'm glad I'm not the only one" OR something that reminds us all that we are not alone, we are not weird and we've all be there.

How You View It

You know no beginning, no end.
You are outside of time of space.

2010 means nothing to you, my birthday, New Year’s Day, the time since my last overdose, the months before my child will be born, the years since my mom died, the days until I’ll be laid off,
the hours that have passed living as a divorcee-
These are seconds to you, breaths.
And you were there in all of it.
It’s all linear. It’s life. It’s all for You.

You do not measure life in college degrees, birthday candles, savings accounts,
donations made or wrinkles.
You are not impressed with my wit, my weight loss, with my frugality, my time spent in prayer, monthly tithe or desire to be an above average employee.
You do not need me. I need you, more than I know.

And it’s all for you.
When it was cancer.
When my wife wanted to leave.
When my sister was admitted into the psych ward.
When he died.
When I was let go after twenty-two years of employment.
When I stopped smoking. And started again.
When I couldn’t pay the rent - when my father wouldn’t speak to me-
when no one even knew my secret life- my sins.
You were there. Even when I couldn't feel you there.
With love. Love that I will never understand.

Because you are:
Forever.
Faithful.
Enduring.
Ageless.
When my mind tries to perceive all these things-
I’m left spinning dizzy, round and round,
Carousel centrifuge.
Crazy drunk in the moment, all other thoughts sink.

Perhaps I am here, now, for “such a time as this”
and with every beat of my heart may I realize and believe
That Your way is best.
To go and do and say, like Esther, “If I perish, I perish”

Where I have unbelief convict me.
Help me unclench my hands around the things I hold onto so tightly.
Let me live like I understand things down here are temporal.
It’s empty and fading.
And it doesn’t matter much at all, to You.

You, my God, have given me all things good, the only things that will remain-
and to those who have “been given much, much will be demanded;
and the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.”

Thank you for life.
It’s all for You.

17 If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, O king. 18 But even if he does not, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up." Daniel 3:17-18

Stop and Smell the Tulips

So a couple of weekends ago, as I walked the Brooklyn Bridge Promenade with a couple of friends- as they & everyone else were taking picture of, what else, the Brooklyn Bridge and great views of lower Manhattan- I was taking pictures of flowerbeds. And backyards (hello, people with real backyards- patio furniture, plant boxes- grills!). And brownstones. And street signs.

I have been told before that based on the pictures I bring back from vacation, the hundreds of photographs I bring back, you can't really tell where I went. I'm focused on the tiny details, the little things that make a certain place special. Yes, vast scenic views are great- and I capture those pictures as well- but I love the quirky, weird shots I find. (I have a picture of my friend taking a picture of me taking a picture. We were in Austria, looking up at this marvelous castle- the gardens leading up the majestic architecture that demands reverence. And I am laying on my back trying to get a picture of the underneath side of one of the huge plants in the garden.)

Life's been crazy this past week- when is it not, really? Another baby shower, a wedding, singing in two church services, conversation with a new friend (an old acquaintance, but new pal), and the "getting out of the summer clothes."(Which I personally love and find as a wonderful time to purge. My rule since living in New York has constantly been, if I haven't worn it in one year- get rid of it!) Additionally, I checked in on Percy and Bess, my friends spoiled rotten kitties who are more like dogs than cats, Friday, Saturday and Sunday.

I emailed my little sister repeatedly, helping her in the attempt to procrastinate editing her 100+ page thesis and talked her off a ledge a few times. And I got to see little baby Marco within his first few hours of life; my friends son who decided to enter the world three months early. I've spent many hours at the hospital since then sharing Chinese food, hugs, and encouraging words with my friend, her husband and her mom.

I'm thankful for friends in NYC- who are my family. Who have become my family. But I do miss those who love me well back in Texas. Today on my lunch hour the grassy acre- as I like to call it-in Bryant Park was full of people sitting and lounging. I immediantly took off my shoes and massaged the bottom of my feed with the tickly blades. Intantly I could not remember the last time I was barefoot in the grass. Probably the last time I was in Texas last- was it September? It's sad for me, because I need this.

My mom told me once that she has to put her hands in dirt everyday. She has to touch soil- everyday. Not that this is true for everyone, but for her, it's what keeps her filled up. Grounded. Makes life worth living. Maybe because Spring is finally here- real WARM tempuratures and people are outside and the days last longer. Maybe because Tessa Sophie is a sweet and beautiful little girl that I miss. Maybe because it's almost Mother's Day or my husbands had a rough week at work or because I'm hormonal- but I'd really love to be in Texas. If just for 24 hours.

I'm considering the $314 flight--- but first I want to make sure that I'm not trying to run away from something. (God, what lesson are you trying to teach me...?)