REV1VEnita

Tasmanian Tiger

noreply@blogger.com (V) — Sat, 19 Mar 2011 17:44:00 +0000

Anyone who knows me, knows I'm a problem solver. I love puzzles, brain teasers, sudoku, cross words, you name it. I get them emailed or downloaded to my phone. So my teaser of the day was, "Even though the Tasmanian Tiger is classified as a carnivore, why doesn't it eat meat?" And even though I didn't know anything about the Tasmanian Tiger, the answer immediately popped into my head that if it's not doing what it's classified to do, it must be extinct. I was right.

I'm not writing that to brag about how I solved the teaser, I'm writing because it made me wonder, "How many of us could be considered extinct simply because we're not doing what we were made to do or called to do?". Whether it's ministry or a job done well or simply the role you play in a loved one's life, are you extinct? Could someone believe you must not exist because you didn't show up when they needed you? Are you missing from your post? Are you using your gifts to the fullest? Just something I'm going to ponder today and thought I'd share...

Ask. Think. Marvel.

noreply@blogger.com (V) — Fri, 21 Jan 2011 09:22:00 +0000

When my girlfriends and I get together there is usually a "hairstory" among us. Sometimes we laugh sometimes we cry. I recently had the unfortunate experience of hearing about something so dreadfully soul stealing regarding a young black woman and the thoughtless words she endured over her hair. And at 3am this is what poured from my heart. So I dedicate this poem to every black woman who has a hairstory.

Ask. Think. Marvel.

When you touch a black woman's hair you touch her soul.
It is a privilege and intimacy that for now only my hairdresser has,
and only three times a year.
Ask.

When you touch a black woman's hair you are touching her strength
and her vulnerability.
Her strength which lifts her head and presses her chin to the sun,
her crown gleeming therein, and yet the vulnerability that can also
be used to hold her back when thoughtless words hurt and aim to destroy.
Think.

When you touch a black woman's hair you are touching her legacy-
the faces of the men and women which tell the story of her blood
and every curl, kink, or nap in her heritage.
Marvel.

When you touch a black woman's hair, whether with words, your hands, or your stares,
you are touching her soul.
Ask.
Think.
Marvel.

When Hope Sings

noreply@blogger.com (V) — Sun, 26 Dec 2010 17:35:00 +0000

Some of you may relate to going to church and having that feeling that the day's service was "just for me". Today was one of those days. But this time the personal way God reached out and grabbed my heart wasn't the sermon, it was the music. Or more specifically, the who in the music.

I joined my church going on 12 years ago. It was during a time in my life when I desperately needed change. Going to other churches in the past was just something to do to look like a good person and I frequently glanced at my watch to see when it would be over. But when I attended MY church for the first time that day, I was captivated. The founding pastor was teaching and talking about how God related to your everyday life. He suggested we take notes and I did. I wrote down everything he said with the fervor of a heart that found the change she was looking for. When he finished preaching, I was disappointed and actually sighed, "Oh no, not yet".

Over the years MY church grew me and matured me and taught me. In addition to what was being poured into me, I served in various ministries and soon I became "one" with MY church. It was my second family. Over more years I faced challenges and had to apply "real" faith in my walk. And over even more years, I walked in my relationship with God to the point that church itself had become a groove; something I moved in and out of. It was more a relationship of courtesy than of "oneness".

Even though I still attend faithfully and still serve faithfully, today when I sat in the pew I looked around and thought, "Who is this church?". Not that there is anything bad about my church or drastically different. I'm still a member, I still serve, but lately I'd felt like I didn't belong. While I pondered that in my heart, the choir started to sing. I clapped and tapped and swayed but sighed,"Where's MY church?". They began to pass the mic around to different choir members to sing different solo verses which I hadn't seen them do before and just noted, "hmm that's different" as the mic moved from person to person. Soon I was distracted, and again looked around thinking and sighing, "More people have joined now. It doesn't seem like MY church anymore...". While I faded into a daydream, the voices changed from person to person in the background, but then I heard a voice. It was Hope.

Hope was a soprano who used to sing in the choir in the growing years of my attendance. And honest to goodness, her name actually is "Hope". There are some people whose spiritual gifts are beyond apparent when God uses them. When Hope sang your heart melted into butterflies. The lilt in her voice made you soar as she climbed every note higher and higher. It was always a special treat to me to hear Hope sing a solo. So when Hope left the choir one year, I was hurt. But it happens. You adjust. New choir members come and go just as new church members come and go. But today while I was pondering MY church and looking down at my hands instead of the choir, I heard a voice like a golden thread that went through my heart and thrust me back. It sounded so familiar. I scrunched up my forehead, slowly looked up and saw Hope.

The tears uncontrollably flooded my face and warmed my heart. It was Hope! Now I don't know when Hope joined the choir again. She may have been there for a long time and I never noticed or maybe today was her first day back. As she sang, she cried. And as she cried, I cried more. I don't know what God was saying to her, but I know what God was saying to me. Today, "just for me", God let me hear Hope sing and MY church felt like home again.

MY MOM IS TOTALLY FREAKIN AWESOME!

noreply@blogger.com (V) — Sun, 24 Oct 2010 02:43:00 +0000

I had four pairs of jeans stuffed in drawers that were too big for me. These were my favorite jean brand and the store I'd victoriously found them from no longer carries them. Isn't that the way?? I'd given up hope of finding another brand of jeans I could wear. While visiting my mom last weekend I was telling her about my dilemma. My mom (a life-long sewer) simply shrugged and suggested that I take them in.

A novel idea! I was puzzled thinking, is that allowed?!? Isn't there some rule that you have to be a slave to the department stores? If their clothes don't fit, you have to change to fit the clothes, right?? But tonight, I pulled out my sewing machine, my four pairs of jeans and voila, I now have four "brand new" pairs of jeans to hang back up in my closet!!

While I was trying my best to keep a straight line, messing up, pulling out my seam ripper, starting again, breaking a needle, replacing the needle, re-spooling my bobbin, snipping the thread, gleefully snatching my finished product from the sewing machine, then running to the mirror to try on my "new" jeans, I kept thinking of my mom.

When I was little I once lamented (aka whined) about how the other kids didn't have to wear homemade clothes and how their moms didn't make their clothes and why couldn't we buy my clothes from the store, blah blah blah. With calm wisdom she turned to me and said, "Someone's mom made even the clothes you buy at the store. So what difference does it make that YOUR mom made your clothes?" She was right. Somewhere probably in a dark factory, tons of moms are sitting at tables sewing shirt after shirt trying to make a living for their families. But they didn't love me.

They hadn't spent time wandering through Cloth World picking out fabric I would like; pressing tissue paper patterns against my little body while I held out my arms to get my measurements just right. They hadn't stayed up at night so I could have a cute jumper to wear to school the next day.

And even though at the beginning of every school year some families were going to the mall, I was flipping through pattern cabinets. And even though I didn't always like the flowered prints my mom picked out, I had more koolats than I could ever hope for. And even though I didn't appreciate it fully at the time, thanks Mom! You are totally freakin awesome!

Insomnia

noreply@blogger.com (V) — Tue, 20 Jul 2010 10:01:00 +0000

The snoozing bear on the side of the tea box had lied and my insomnia mocked me for another night. I turned heavenward and lamented, “Why won’t she let me sleep?” but my whiney prayer only made it to the celestial stratum of the apartment above me and it returned no answer. Stomping back to my bed for the fifth time, after trying the couch, laying flat like DaVinci’s anatomical man on the floor, and then the couch again, I tried to hide from the truth by tucking my head under my pillow. "If I just pretend it’s not 2:33 in the morning, I can trick myself into only needing 4 hours of sleep.". An hour later, I updated my denial, “Ok, 3 hours of sleep.”

Throwing the pillow aside and flipping over, my thoughts paced- Fiction isn’t even my voice… I don’t know how to open her story… What will her name be?... Does she even need a name? …(I google names online) … Maybe being nameless will bring more insight to her character. Will I narrate her as another character or will she tell her story in first-person? But it won’t matter if I can’t hook ‘em with the intro. It has to be catchy…oh I know! “It was a dark and stormy…” wait, that’s been done.

In my mind I began to review the opening lines, character development, and voice tenses of books I’d read. I admired and cursed the talent of their authors. My insomnia, my clock and now They all mocked me. Imaginary Amy Tan laughed at me and bragged she never had a sleepless night over a story. Agatha Christie pointed and laughed from my Kindle screen saver, “I never had to start the same story over and over. Boy you suck!”. Stephen King just stared at me in shame, shaking his head until he couldn’t even bear to look at me. “Yes I know! You were all born fantastic writers”, I pouted back and threw the pillow over my head again.

Moments later I spring from my bed and plop in front of my laptop. Even if this no-named “she” wants to elude and rob me of sleep for one more night, I will have a victory. Trying not to notice the light that will soon leak from the horizon, I declared the blinking curser on the blank page of my laptop the capital L loser and blog about my typical night as a writer. Maybe now I can get some sleep. Maybe.

JUST NAKED

noreply@blogger.com (V) — Sun, 27 Jun 2010 21:07:00 +0000

...okay, so I wasn't going to say anything about it, but I want to share! And since it's been 4 months (YIKES!) since I've written on my blog, and considering the season of my life I'm in, this would be a perfect occasion and topic to write about.

Yesterday I went to a Korean Spa/Sauna bath house for my friend's birthday. When I first found out the bath house part of it was communal and buck-naked, I was completely freaked out. I do NOT do communal, especially buck-naked.

Before we went, over dinner we laughed and joked about our insecurities, Ciara's legs, our perceptions of our own bodies and how others would view us. We debated our comfort of nakedness in front of strangers versus friends. Some women were comfortable with the idea. Others, like me, were in dread of it. It was an enlightening discussion. But even as dinner came to a close and the next step was going to the spa, the question stayed with me- was I actually going to *gulp* get naked, or not?

Now just to pause and clarify, it's not like at home I turn off the lights to get undressed or something. It was just the thought of being naked in front of people. You're exposed in the most private of private. There's a vulnerability of showing yourself in any aspect of life, not just your body. And over time I've cultivated the skill of hiding those vulnerabilities well. From the beginning of time we've run to cover our "shame". It's unsettling to know someone else is going to see what you see. And here I was marching off to uncover it!

So as we approached the steps of the spa, I took a deep breath, gripped my toiletry bag tight and was still not prepared for NAKED CITY EVERYWHERE as soon as we walked into the locker room. Naked to my left (DIVERT EYES!). Naked to my right (LOOK DOWN!). Naked at 6 o'clock (OH GOD I DID NOT WANT TO SEE THAT!).

Refuge in locker #99 didn't last long. A uniformed lady informed us to "Take off all clothes now. Panties bra everything. Take shower." What? Now? Here? In front of EVERYONE? The birthday girl was on team "Who cares? This is not bothering me". Me and another girl were on team "Fraidy cat". But there was no turning back. The Naked Now lady wasn't playing. There was nothing more to do then to strip down and "take shower".

We gingerly undressed, sheepishly looking but not looking at each other with "help me" in our eyes. When suddenly, genius hit me. I know, I'll hide behind a towel! My plan was great until I saw the towels were the size of a dish rag...no wait, two dish rags. That would take care of one side but not the other. It was the moment of truth. There was nothing left to do. I held my head up high, chose the front, gripped my towel, and with my behind breezy in the wind, walked to the showers. I was scared but giddy at the same time!

However, easing into the bath did not ease my discomfort until the strangest thing happened. Another lady wearing only a towel turban and a smile says to the other member of Fraidy Cat, "Is this your first time?" She replied, "yes". NAKED lady said "It shows on your face!", then did the most bizarre, gracious, awkward, wonderful thing. She came over NAKED, shook our hands NAKED, and introduced herself NAKED. But suddenly she eased my fears. We just sat around and talked. And as we shared our experiences the NAKED and the stress melted away. I didn't feel NAKED anymore. I was just me.

We went on to enjoy the rest of the treatments meant to tighten our skin, improve our circulatory systems, and detox our bodies, but as I reflect over the night what impressed me the most was the benefit I gained in being free. As women we're set up to compete over or be ashamed of our bodies. But when I looked around (even though I wasn't looking!) and saw women of different sizes, shapes, figures, degrees of cellulite, and levels of plump or non-plumpness it brought a smile to my face. For once we just were; we were just women chilling in 102 degree water.

And even today I didn't think about the ways I need to hide my so-called imperfections. I just smiled and thought about all the other bumpy butts who had a sanctuary for one night. No one to judge. No where to hide. JUST NAKED in every way. I hope to live the rest of my life like that.

Dear Lord,

noreply@blogger.com (V) — Sun, 14 Mar 2010 02:02:00 +0000

I’m in a really pouty terrible mood today. Although I was so blessed by the experience of the writer’s conference this weekend, little things got on my nerves and distracted me. Plus bad bad decision-making as I navigated my day also put me in a sour mood. But I think the real source of my crabbiness was recognizing something about myself that I know to be a real issue- self-inflicted glass ceilings. In short, I avoid getting better at things that I probably could. As You know, this glass ceiling appeared at 12 when I realized playing the piano was going to take more work than memorization (just like with the cello, and painting, and drawing, and swim lessons, and…).

This weekend I faced the reality that writing is an art and a skill. I’m saddened by the “skill” of it because it means I have to put in an effort to go beyond my raw natural talents (just like with the cello, and painting, and drawing, and swim lessons, and…). I’m sad because I don’t want to disappoint You by “getting bored” and losing interest. I feel ashamed because I think this is nothing more than pure unadulterated laziness. And I’m hurt because to my utter surprise, I’m not as fantastic as I thought I was. I need to improve.

Am I afraid to finally see how good I could really be at something? Or am I just afraid to see how really bad I am?

You and I have gotten to a point in our relationship that is beyond You telling me what to do and what not to do. I’ve reached an age both naturally and spiritually where You expect me to make well-thought decisions and choices about my spiritual walk and maturity. I have a major personal decision to make and as an awesome Parent, this time You’re silently waiting for me to make it. …

…

me too.

The Horror!

noreply@blogger.com (V) — Sat, 16 Jan 2010 18:30:00 +0000

This morning I was given a choice. On the surface it might not seem like a big deal. But in this day and age, to some it might seem a radical choice to make. Initially it was brought upon me by circumstances. Then it blossomed into an opportunity for sacrifice. Since I’m currently in the middle of a pretty strenuous fast with my church, I was a bit surprised that an opportunity arose for me to sacrifice more. The additional sacrifice? Not having internet in my home (The horror!).

Every year starting New Year’s Day, for the past three years, my church has conducted a fast.

Sidebar- a fast is basically a commitment of sacrifice for the purpose of spiritual gain. The sacrifice should always be a personal statement to God expressing your desire for more of Him. Your sacrifice might be coffee or t.v. but that wouldn’t really be much of a sacrifice for me. In cases like our church-wide fast, we are sharing a common and typical sacrifice in the area of food. Fasts are very challenging yet very rewarding.

Each year it gets longer- first 21 days, then 30, now 40. We’re doing the Daniel fast which is basically Vegan (no animal products) dietary choices in terms of food with a Sabbath day on Sundays. But the focus of the fast this year is improving our relationships; first with our relationship with God then with others.

So back to my horror! Although I can giggle about it now, and although some of you may have gasped at the sheer thought of it, my first response at receiving the notice that I could not have internet service was pure panic. You would’ve thought I’d just lost my child at the mall. Frantically I dialed the phone company’s number. But every option I chose resulted in an automated voice notifying me “That office is currently closed. Please call back…”. My panic rose. Hanging up, calling again, stating “new service”, hearing “I’m sorry I am having trouble understanding you…”, then repeating “NEW SERVICE!” where everyone in my building would have no trouble understanding me, only again to hear, “I’m sorry that office is currently closed…”. I was horrified. But then when I talked myself off the ledge and stopped panicking, I had a moment to gather my thoughts-“What will I do if I can’t have the internet at home?” And God in His calm and patient way watched my whole panic attack take place, waited for me to stop foaming at the mouth, and gently asked, “What will you do, indeed?”

The past three weeks, I’ve seen God take care of all my needs in abundant shocking ways. Similar challenges were easily overcome or not even a factor. So is there a reason He’s allowing THIS particular snafu? For the first few weeks of my fast I’ve been focusing on re-energizing my relationship with God. I had a lot of distractions and life-challenges in the past few years that frankly, I’d allowed to eclipse my private time with Him. And as the most significant life-challenge comes to some aspect of a conclusion, I’m now having the opportunity to reconnect with Him. And suddenly I realized I was starving.

I’d already been living in a kind of fast and didn’t realize it. I was hungry for peace. I was hungry for quiet. I was hungry for reading His Word. I was hungry for calm. But while being in my current transition, I was removed from the things that distracted me and I was forced to do new things with my thoughts, time, and energy. And as I filled up that void with prayer, reading, and personal growth, I was becoming full again. I’d prayed for my relationship with God to continue to recover. I prayed to let my home be a place filled with His presence where I can relax, decompress, heal, grow, and be refreshed.

So when I looked at the internet issue again, I began to wonder if this circumstance was intentional. I thought about how much time I typically spend on the internet most evenings. That if I had it, it would probably gobble up the quiet time I’ve been enjoying with God. That especially now, I need to stay connected to Him to experience the kind of growth I desire. That, I confess, I’d been relying on “watching church” through my church’s online streaming feed more times than I’d actually been going to church. That maybe, this might be good for me. Instead of a sacrifice, I’ve actually been given an abundant blessing. Now I won’t be distracted by the temptation to waste hours at home surfing, shopping, IMing. Now I can curl up with a good book or spend quality time in verdant prayer more. Now I can challenge myself to break out of my introverted habits and be out in the public, spend time with my friends and family face to face, and actually improve my relationships! Novel idea.

When I went to bed last night I prayed that God would let me know what to do about it in the morning. So when I woke up this morning I felt He offered me a choice. I truly believe that all I have to do is call the phone company and God can and would be willing to resolve the issue. Or I could not call and instead enjoy this time of peace, enjoy this opportunity to interact with actual people instead of getting everything through the internet, and soak my weary soul in the warm quiet of God’s arms. I turned on my computer, wrote out this long blog, and I’ve now made my choice- I’m going to thrive, not survive, without the internet in my home.

You sure you want a King?

noreply@blogger.com (V) — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 20:39:00 +0000

On my previous post, I talked about just letting 2010 be about dancing with my Father. Once I'd become liberated by that idea, I started to think more about this concept of just being still, hanging with God, and letting Him take the lead in our dance. It reminded me of when the Israelites asked Samuel for a King to lead the people rather than Samuel's sons whom he'd established as Judges. Yeah, cause most people get reminded of 1 Samuel chapter 8 verses 1-22 when they write out their New Year's resolutions....riiiiight. Again, it's a sickness, just roll with it.

BUT truly, it did remind me of that scene because of what God said in response to their complaints. He basically said, "Look Samuel, this isn't really about your sons or you. This is about them rejecting ME. I was already their King". So God told Samuel to tell them like it T-I-is. He basically said, "Tell them if they want a king so bad, this is how it's going to be with a king over them- he's going to take your stuff and make it his. He's going to make your sons and daughters work for him. Basically you're going to be worse off than you are right now. And when you start being mad, don't come crying to me about it!" And even after Samuel told them that, they still demanded a king. And God said, "Fine! Give 'em a King. I'll even pick one out".

Isn't that just like how we are with Him? We establish a layer in between a direct relationship with God and think it's a better set up. And if we're extra holy, we innocently (kinda) think, we SHOULD have this other thing to guide and direct our lives for us in "partnership" with God. Don't think so? I'll use myself as an example-

- Ok, I wanted to define a career for myself because I wanted to know that my life had a track to ride on. God says, "Why do you need something called a 'career' for that? You have me!"

- I wanted to have $XX dollars in the bank so I know I will have money to fall back on in case something happens. God says, "Yeah being wise with money and being prepared is good, but you don't need to fall back on your money. You need to fall back on me!"

- I was concerned about factoring in new relationships in the future. God says, "Why not enjoy the relationship you're having with me? Cause guess what? I promise you, some dude is eventually going to work your nerves, take up your time, money, and attention."

Oh, and remember I was going to do the right thing and pray He would bless and guide all my "layers".

We try to make that stuff sound all good and smart and right. But know what that stuff really is? *whispering* Psst! Lean in... those are called "idols". Yeah! For real! And despite what Paula, Randy, Simon or the new dudette thinks, God isn't a fan. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not saying He's saying I should hate men, not have some idea of what to do with my life, or save money. But I get His point, especially about relationships cause they are work. And that's putting it lightly.

But just as God was saying to the Israelites, He's saying to us, "Ok, you want all that? Fine. But don't come crying to me when your career is over-demanding, your money is funny, and he gets on your nerves, when you could've just had me!". Again, there's nothing wrong with having goals or guidelines or desires. What'll get you messed up is if you look in your heart and realize you trust those things more than you trust God.

Oh and in case you were wondering, Saul (the King they asked for) did turn out to be a headache. And that's putting it lightly. Not because God purposefully picked a lemon, but because nothing, I mean nothing, compares to God. Man, they should've just stuck with God! I know I'm going to.

Both Awe and Consternation

noreply@blogger.com (V) — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 20:29:00 +0000

AWE- Talk about following through!

Click to read-> Allen 18-Year-Old Makes Good On Promise To Orphan

CONSTERNATION- I don't know what was more disturbing, that he did it, or all the comments on the article that only focused on a better rifle he could've used instead. Um, did they read the article?? Hello??

Click to read->A community college student was upset about his grades when he walked into a classroom and fired two shots at his professor before his new rifle jammed

Box Step

noreply@blogger.com (V) — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 18:39:00 +0000

On my wedding day, I danced with my father. I'd never ever danced with my father before so I wanted it to go well. The song I'd selected was "Mother Father" by Musiq, which is a sweet song about thanking our parents for all they've done. It's a very simple 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3 box step kind of song. When we rehearsed it, I told my dad all he had to do was step to the beat, turn and repeat. As we danced it was clear we had the same vision in mind- stay on beat, look like we knew what we were doing, enjoy ourselves, and don't step on each other's toes! We accomplished those goals beautifully.

I am all about planning your work and working your plan. So this morning I am planning my vision and direction for 2010. Some of the things I want to focus on are personal growth, finances, Career choices (capital C makes it more grown-up), and having fun. I listed out those high-level things and then itemized various sub-areas I wanted to target by quarter. I will resist color-coding, this time. Yes, it is a sickness, but a very effective one. So anywho...

I was getting a little overwhelmed trying to sort it all out. So I wanted to "first" spend some time praying about God's perspective on those areas (after I'd already listed all of them out, mind you). But as I began to think about what to pray, suddenly I had a soft sweet daydream of myself dancing with God. He gently took my hand and He spoke to me, you haven't had a "Career" in 10 years. Why are you so bent out of shape over having one now? 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3... You haven't ever had excessive amounts of money tucked away, but you've always had enough and have enjoyed life abundantly. 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3... Yes there are some character traits that need to be worked on, but who said I think all the things that bother you are so bad? 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3... If you do get "too old" to do [fill in the blank], who said I felt [fill in the blank] was what I wanted to accomplish with your life anyway? 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3...

And suddenly I realized that the song I have playing in my head may not be the song God has in His head. So no matter how much I stay on MY beat, we wouldn't be dancing together. It was liberating. And you know, God has been dancing with me all my life. Sometimes I looked like I knew what I was doing and He smiled at me and enjoyed those moments with me. Sometimes I've stepped on His toes, but again He smiled at me and got me back on beat. And ultimately it's been beautiful.

So for 2010, I just want to dance with my Father.

Humbled

noreply@blogger.com (V) — Sun, 13 Dec 2009 03:36:00 +0000

I never think about stuff like awards or recognition, mostly because I hate attention and it makes me self-conscious. I blush profusely at compliments (If you can't tell, trust me I'm sweating). At media events I've attended, I hid behind someone taller than me to avoid being in the picture; in one, only the edge of my fro-at-the-time was visible. And I recently learned to just say "Thank you [period]" instead of explaining how old my outfit is or why it's unworthy of the compliment. Yeah, I have issues!

So today when the leader of the ministry I serve in at church gave me an "Outstanding Leader Award", I was completely gobsmacked and embarrassed, frankly. In fact, there was actually an award ceremony for it last weekend that I missed. When she'd sent the invitation/email about the ceremony last week, my only thought was, "That will be good for the other people in the ministry to go to. I hope they have fun!"

And although I would normally deeply frown upon drawing even more attention to kind things people think about me, I decided to share it. I'm not going to hide my face (well I did turn away) or shush it (well I did say "Are you serious? No way!" about 3 or 4 times). The inscription reads,

"Thank you for your exceptional servant leadership, excellent team spirit, and exemplary commitment to God and His people."

That is the ultimate compliment and I am so humbled. I want to shout, "I don't deserve it! Don't you realize I screw up on a regular basis???" But I will resist and say, "Thank you [period]" Just don't throw it back in my face when I do screw up! I'm probably screwing up right now! lol

"Everything nourishes what is strong already."

noreply@blogger.com (V) — Mon, 07 Dec 2009 03:21:00 +0000

After watching "You've Got Mail" for the umpteenth time, I was finally inspired to read Pride and Prejudice just to see what the big deal was for ShopGirl. I've had moments where like Tom Hank's character, Joe Fox, I rolled my eyes and tossed it to the side yet picked it up again. But I've also come across moments when I'm in awe of the thought-provoking dialog.

One particular exchange about love and romance between Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth caught my attention. They were discussing a former suitor of Elizabeth's sister and how the relationship did not exactly blossom and withered, as it were, upon the young man's attempt to woo her with poetry albeit good poetry-

"I have been used to consider poetry as the FOOD of love", said Darcy.
"Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away." [Elizabeth]

At first I thought it was funny how cynical Elizabeth was being, but truly, she had something there. I paused on that statement -"Everything nourishes what is strong already." That's insightful for many areas of life- spiritually, financially, physically, emotionally, and in relationships- romantic or otherwise. If something isn't already strong with deep roots, even something as "harmless" as love can blow it away like chaff. However, something rooted in strength and health, although it may weeble, although it may wobble, it will not fall down. And to her point, it actually should develop deeper roots and become even stronger yet. So this evening, I'm pondering how fine, stout and healthy are the foundations of my life; lest, God forbid, something come along and starve it entirely away.

If the economic winds came and blew my job away, would my finances be able to stand up against it? If a health issue were to arise, would my trust in God's faithfulness grow stronger? If my best friend suddenly stopped answering my calls, would the definition of our friendship ultimately last? And if I answer "No", to any of those questions, it's not the wind, the sickness, or my friend's fault. It's an indication that something has cracked in the foundation- in my finances, in my faith, and in our friendship.

And maybe I'm projecting a lot onto Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy's passing conversation, but it's inspired me to consider and take stock- What are the fine, stout and healthy things in my life? And what are those thin inclinations that are in danger of a good sonnet? I will spare you the rest of this process, but maybe this will inspire a little inventory of your own! Hey, perhaps ShopGirl was onto something after all...

Both Awe and Consternation

noreply@blogger.com (V) — Mon, 30 Nov 2009 23:32:00 +0000

Here is the second edition of Both Awe and Consternation...

First, AWE...How many of us would do this??

Wrong Number Miracle

Now Consternation...otherwise known as Twiddle Dum and Twiddle Dee

13 year old designated driver

New Discoveries

noreply@blogger.com (V) — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 00:48:00 +0000

This week I discovered Twitter. And by "discover" I mean in the Christopher Columbus way. Twitter was already there and occupied. But I have made peace with the natives I think.

So my journey began when a co-worker told me about how Twitter can get you connected to the inside scoop from celebrities. Since I'd recently embarked on Facebook, I still wasn't convinced that I would need to add yet another way to have TMI on people. And especially since celebrities aren't really a community of people I spend much time thinking about, I was even less enthusiastic about making the trip. But I joined anyway.

At first I didn't even know where to start. With the question, "what celebrity do I even want to follow?" pulsing through my mind, I managed to add Jennifer Aniston and Chrisette Michele. Chrisette because her music is amazing. Aniston because I'm on team Aniston (rot Brad!) and I can kill at a game of Friends trivia. Pretty soon my list had grown from Bill Cosby to Zooey Deschenel, Q-Tip to John Mayer and back again. So what I'm still trying to wrap my mind around is, is it crazier that I suggested to Serena Williams to get a neti pot because she tweeted that she wasn't feeling well, or that I was able to do so in the first place?

I have enjoyed seeing a glimpse of how the other side lives. But you know what? Other than flying around a lot, celebrities are actually kinda regular people. Soliel Moonfrye (who will always be Punky Brewster to me) is particularly sweet and gracious. Tia and Tamara Mowry can't go 2-3 tweets without praising God for their opportunities. And Serena? Well she usually starts her day by asking "us" to tell her what we are doing that day or how work is.

So I actually feel like I've discovered a secret world of celebrityville that I didn't know about. And although I'm not by any means disillusioned into thinking Alicia Keys is my new BFF, I do feel like an insider. Who knew? There actually is gold in the new world. Me thinks perhaps I've discovered too much?

Both Awe and Consternation

noreply@blogger.com (V) — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 22:23:00 +0000

Today I got the idea of documenting things I hear, read or see that will fall into either the Awe or Consternation category. I've noticed that the world never ceases to provide at least one of each on a daily basis. So I intend to make this a new "regular" for my blog. Starting with these:

AWE

US Naval Academy Performance | Kings Firecrackers
http://blip.tv/file/1816913
Army/Navy USA!

CONSTERNATION

N.C. principal leaves after cash-for-grades flap - USATODAY.com
Source: www.usatoday.com
A North Carolina principal is retiring after school district leaders halted a cash-for-grades fundraiser she approved.

Henna tat before and after

noreply@blogger.com (V) — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 04:33:00 +0000

25 Things I Learned at the Texas State Fair

noreply@blogger.com (V) — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 22:50:00 +0000

1) Banana Praline Waffles, 2 slices of Cheese Pizza, and 2 Midway Rides before 10:30AM do not mix well.
2) Lessons overheard from Father to Son- "Ya bett'r eat all yer food Jr. That's what the fair is 'bout. Don't you know when you leave they ask ya how many corny dogs and cotton candy ya ate and if ya didn't eat 'nough they make you go back?!" Kid didn't buy it.
3) Hot Buttered Corn drippings will spill all over your pants not matter how many napkins you have.
4) Birds at the bird show have everyone trained to believe they are trained.
5) Parrots will not sing Yankee Doodle if they don't feel like it. Yes, no matter how much you smile at them.
6) The Bald Eagle is no longer on the endangered species list. Which is a good thing since, ya know, it's just our Nation's Symbol and all.
7) There actually is a guy with a microphone headset selling Sham Wow.
8) A tiny little woman with fake eyelashes can make beautiful extraordinarily detailed embroidered pictures.
9) Dogs will freestyle dance with old ladies if the beat is right.
10) Suburbans will migrate to the train stop if it means not paying for parking.
11) The last train leaves at 8:37pm. Suburbans do not know that.
12) If you want Monarch butterflies to come into your garden, plant Milkweed because it's a host plant for Monarchs.
13) The Monarch butterfly chrysalis has a gilded edge along the top and no one knows why.
14) Male Monarch butterflies have a tiny little spot on the back of their wings.
15) All Monarch butterflies fly to the same tree in Mexico every year.
16) There's a guy at the Texas Discovery Gardens who is really passionate about Monarch butterflies.
17) People believe that when "the three hunters" finally catch up with Ursa Major "the big bear" constellation that the fat from their cooking pot and the blood from the bear's wounds pours from the sky and turns the Autumn leaves red and gold.
18) The Planetarium eerily still looks exactly the same as when I went there in elementary school.
19) Butter can be carved into an intricate Western Saloon motif complete with life-size people and a dog.
20) In 60 degree weather, a man will dive into a 10 foot pool of water from a diving platform 80 feet in the air.
21) A man who dives into a 10 foot pool of water from a diving platform 80 feet in the air will be bright red and shivering when he climbs out the pool.
22) Ford Robots can see you and crack jokes about your poncho.
23) Pigs really can fly...at least when there's an oreo cookie at the other end of the track at stake.
24) People, even Oprah, will stand in line (or in Oprah's case, have people stand in line) for Fried __________ (Fill in the Blank).
25) You will inevitably find 2 tickets at the bottom of your purse AFTER you leave the Fair.

Everyday People

noreply@blogger.com (V) — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 22:19:00 +0000

Walking ...
Everyday People
Ma'am do you like poetry? No thank you...
Ma'am would you like a paper? No thank you...
Ma'am do you know God? No thank you...
Everyday People

Sitting on the bus recently previewed by Running for the bus ...
Everyday People
I sit way in the back, Coughing Man leans way back, I scoot way over...
Chimney steps on accompanied by Stove Pipe. Apparently they're buddies. C leans over to SP... Did he just ask for a light? Oh I hope not.
Coughing Man coughing ... H1N1! Oh I wish he'd stop coughing!
Coughing Man searches for a dirty tissue ...
Shove my nose deep into the crevice of my book. Take a deep breath. Can't hold it much longer.
Coughing Man still coughing. Final Stop...at last! Leap to my feet
Man in front of me; What's that smell?
Man in front of me; What smells like vomit?
Man in Front of Me...
Everyday People

Walking with headphones on...
Everyday People
Everyone sounds like Erykah Badu
Man I'm Ignoring sounds like Erykah Badu
Man I'm Ignoring now waving at me sounds like Erykah Badu
Red light sounds like Erykah Badu
Little White Walking Man signal sounds like Erykah Badu
Door to building sounds like Janet Jackson now
Receptionist sounds like Janet Jackson too. Janet says, "Good Afternoon Miss ------ ." Nod hello to Mr. Janet Jackson.
Everyday People

Thoughts- Same thing tomorrow
These are my E-v-e-r-y-d-a-y P-e-o-p-l-e

Yay God for Fall!

noreply@blogger.com (V) — Fri, 09 Oct 2009 22:38:00 +0000

Don't you just love the way Fall smells? It's my absolute favorite time of the year. There's just something about breathing in the cool crispness and the way your ears tingle after a brisk walk. It's Fall and Fall means lots of cool things. So here's my top 10 favorite things about Fall ala David Letterman:

10) A big bowl of chili with cheese and oyster crackers
9) Hiding your face under the covers because it doesn't count as morning if it's still dark out
8) Noticing from the turning leaves, how many shades of red have been missing from your life
7) Oatmeal
6) The warm courtesy air that blows on you when you first walk into a building
5) My favorite red knit beanie with the little knot on top
4) Not shaving your legs
3) Wearing oversized comfy sweaters and baggy pants that hide the fact you haven't shaved your legs
2) Knee-high leather boots which also hide the fact that you haven't shaved your legs
1) Going to the Fair and eating two ears of hot buttered corn!!

I love the Fall! Yay God for Fall!

In Today's Adventure - DART

noreply@blogger.com (V) — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 17:07:00 +0000

Our fearless she-ro (someone I know HATES that word! tee hee) expands her urban living experience into her work commute. We find her anxiously awaiting part 1 of the 2 bus ride to work. After equipping her "please leave me alone" smile-shield in an effort to defeat the villainous cat-callers, she gingerly steps onto the bus trying to look cool, like she does this all the time. But then her secret identity is quickly uncovered when the bus driver loudly informs her that she is sticking her bus pass in the wrong device reader. DRAT, FOILED AGAIN! Scoping out her fellow commuters, she evaluates future weapons to aide her in her adventures. "Shall I spend all the money I'm going to save by riding the bus, and buy a Kindle to entertain myself? Should I invest in good headphones like the lady whose bright red Princess Leia-worthy musical ear cuffs just scream, "I do NOT want to be bothered with y'all today!". Such advanced weaponry to fight off the commuter fiends! Much to be considered...

~Next Page~

Next we find our heroine has safely arrived at the transit center. Part 1 is over. But unfortunately she embarrasses herself further (although she played it off really well) when she walked past the bus hub even though she'd already scoped it out the night before. Donning her, "I meant to do that" deflector hair flip, she turns around and plops on an empty bench realizing her part 2 bus that was to leave at 8:07 had indeed just left at 8:07. DOUBLE DRAT! But wait, what's that in the distance? Huzzah! Our heroine sees arriving over the concrete horizon, the next bus! What luck....our adventure continues.

~Lsst Page~

The rest of the way to work, her resumed incognito "I do this all the time" disguise remains intact. JUST THEN, she exits the bus and walks across the parking lot. Now realizing that the most harrowing leg of her commute is managing to get inside the building, she makes one fatal turn and walks through a cloud of toxic smokers behind the back of the building. COUGH! COUGH! Has her journey ended after she's come so far?! COUGH! COUGH! Will the Pottery Barn doors open in time for her to escape the fumes?? Has everything come to an end??? Oh no!

Tune in tomorrow to find out if our heroine actually made it to work! And what happens to her when she DUN DUN DUN tries to take the bus back home again! ... DUN DUN!

This is definitely one of THOSE mornings

noreply@blogger.com (V) — Sun, 20 Sep 2009 15:40:00 +0000

Read Other Post First
...Rounding the corner I didn't notice the Michael Kors display. The valet guys faded into the background and the only thoughts running through my mind were "Wow I feel like a brat! Skipping around appreciating mochas, you should try to help him!..Does he even want a breakfast taco? While you're contemplating turning back he's probably thinking up a sneak attack right now...where's your pepper spray?...Venita stop it, he's not going to attack you he's just hungry."

I stop, feel bad, keep walking, stop again, but keep walking and look at my feet as I slowly drag them up the entry steps. I quickly avoid the front desk guy's eyes because I just KNOW he KNOWS I didn't give the homeless guy a breakfast taco, get in the elevator and let each beep of the floor tell me how terrible I am (26 beeps). Back at home, I sit on the couch close my eyes and ponder- I used to be more carelessly brave about sharing my God with other people. I used to not let fear keep me from giving a hungry man something to eat. I wish I could write that I bounded off the couch, rushed back to the cafe and ordered another taco and with stern concentration did not rest until I sought out that homeless man to give it to him. Instead I sat on my couch, blogged to you guys about it, told God "thanks" for all my blessings, and realize that He is the one who did a sneak attack on me. Not to invoke guilt, but to smile on me and make me think about the things that really matter. So I will probably spend the rest of today thinking about where I could be giving back the things I enjoy the most about Him; whether it's His love, His resources, or His gifts. This is definitely one of THOSE mornings.

One of THOSE Mornings! Yippee!

noreply@blogger.com (V) — Sun, 20 Sep 2009 14:45:00 +0000

This morning is one of those mornings I don't feel rushed. I savor these mornings. I woke up when my eyes decided to open not because an alarm beat me into submission. I try to remember what the heck I was just dreaming about, give up, turn over a few more times, then waddle around assessing what kind of day this is going to be. And with delight I realized, it's going to be one of THOSE mornings! Yippee! That means I can brush my teeth (barely), shake my hair out, rub the sleep out of my eyes, decide "do I really want to put on make-up today?" NAH...throw on some clothes and walk to the cafe a block away. It's one of those mornings when I can say it's just going to be me and God today, hanging out, enjoying each other...

It feels like everything is slower. Even skipping down the entry stairs and waving good morning to the front desk guy seems peaceful. Even keeping my finger on my pepper spray trigger as I rounded the corner almost didn't seem as necessary...almost (I mean come on, peaceful but not unaware!).

Rounding the corner means getting to check out the new Michael Kors window display at Neiman Marcus along the way... "I could pull that off!" or "That color is just too bright for me", but "oooh that is so chic!" It was a "Breakfast at Tiffanys" kind of moment. Admiring the hotel valet guys as they run back and forth to the parking garage, looking at the sun bring out the architectural details of the buildings above me and hearing the "swish swish" of my flip flops down the sidewalk washed away the random thoughts that are usually running through my head.

Arriving at the cafe, Patrick proudly tells me he's been perfecting my white chocolate mocha. So as I sit there and watch him, with stern concentration, fluff up the milk foam and add another squirt of chocolate, I again savor, AHHHH it's one of THOSE mornings. Skillfully avoiding Patrick's flirting, grabbing my "no meat please" breakfast taco and already cooled to sipping perfection mocha, I walk back enjoying the warm happiness now sitting in my stomach.

On the way back I see a man looking for his "white chocolate mocha and breakfast taco" in the corner trash can. We make eye contact, he wishes me good morning and I wish him good morning back. Suddenly I'm that much more appreciative of having one of THOSE mornings.

Starting From Scratch

noreply@blogger.com (V) — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 02:01:00 +0000

So guess what? My laptop died...AGAIN!! I just got it back today. I'm beginning to wonder if my old laptop got jealous and put a hex on my new one...c'est la vie

In the meantime I've been keeping pretty busy. Although I did experience a couple of totally boring evenings, I think I've done more in the past few weeks than I'd done all year. In fact, I should probably slow it down a bit. Neither my budget nor my stamina appreciates the vigor. Some days have been lower than low. Others have been...strange. And others yet have been pure joy. All in all, it's been interesting.

But tonight my mind is on deeper things than keeping my social calendar full. Tonight I'm pondering what I truly want to do with my life. I'd written before that if on my death bed I look back and know that I tried all the things that interest me, I would feel I'd lead a satisfying life. But today I have a feeling that there's more to my existence than that. For example, my very good friend is a wonder. She's a fabulous single mom, 15 weeks away from getting her Masters, mentors young women and actually has something called "career goals". Her life is very well rounded. And not to compare, but my life is kinda pointy, very uneven and I feel I'm very much behind the curve. Surely I could be doing more...not more quantity, but more quality.

Three years ago I felt my life had a clear plan and purpose. I'd set my goals, worked towards them and felt like I was on the right track. But lately I've been reevaluating the track. A lot of my time, tears, and energy were spent chasing the desire to be a good wife and mom. Correction, my goal was to be an excellent wife and mom. Motivated by that desire, I too seemed a wonder. I was going places with a lot to offer. But now because of life-changes, I have an opportunity to consider why I was on that track to begin with. What if I don't want to have kids someday? That kinda unravels a lot of work I'd put into the past 10 years of my life. This moment is surreal. It's like living in a house for many years- well appointed, maybe a few signs of wear and tear, but familiar. Then suddenly, you open a door and find your foot dangling into an empty world of white walls. And that's when it hits you- "Damn, I'm starting from scratch."

What kind of design do I want the rest of my life to reflect? Is it traditional? Modern? or Eclectic? Do I want to go for the minimalist feel or comfy casual? Do I even want to share it with any "significant" other (grown up or miniature)? It's all a very daunting thing. Sometimes I'm told by those whose gaze drifts away into the distance as though envisioning their own empty world of white, how brave and fantastic a blank slate would be. The mixture of pain and longing in their eyes makes me wince and appreciate my opportunity. But sometimes I look into the eyes of those who are settled in, like my friend. Most of their boxes and baggage are unpacked and they're very comfortable living their lives. Then my gaze drifts back to the well-appointed house I'd worked so hard to establish and there's pain and longing in my own eyes.

Nevertheless, here I am. I need to spend some time really figuring out if I need to tear down some walls, redesign and go for a totally different space. Or if I just need to move into a new place and rebuild on the same framework. So the walls aren't exactly blank. They've just been painted over. However, starting over doesn't come with the luxury of primer! There's still some remnant of the life I'd planned for myself. I have to be true to that. But I'm hoping that whatever design I finally settle on, I can live with it. At least for a little while...

Do what the monkey says!!

noreply@blogger.com (V) — Mon, 24 Aug 2009 00:09:00 +0000

These are my slippers. They are monkeys. They make me laugh. They make me laugh because they are monkeys.

But they also have magical powers. Whenever I don't get my way, I lift one foot in the air, scream "Do what the monkey says!" and I win. I win because they make other people laugh. While they are laughing, I get my way.

I love my slippers.