Pool Side Life Lessons

It’s a little bit weird for me to be blogging right this moment because, well, I’ve already gone to bed for the night.  I’ve crawled into bed and shut my eyes tight and hoped to slip away into wonderful dreams.  However, as the reel of my day played through my mind, I was inspired awake.  I couldn’t sleep I was so inspired.  It’s kinda annoying, but I guess it makes for some good, non-forced, blogging.

First off, I haven’t blogged for a while so I’ll update the lot of you on my life.  I’ve been homeless for the last oh, about 3 weeks.  It’s been a good homeless, I’ve been on the many couches of my sisters, my friends and my mom (ok to be slightly less dramatic- my mom has a spare bedroom).  :)  I’ve been keeping busy finishing up my string of weddings, coaching at basketball camp, catching up on being an Aunt, visiting family and being the most lazy I’ve EVER allowed myself to be.  It’s been kinda great, I don’t know if I want to go back to being a teacher… jk, but really, if bum were a full time occupation that paid well and got benifits-whew! Sign me up! :)

Now to the ‘I can’t even sleep I’m so inspired’ part of my post.

Today while doing my 'Aunt Nanna of the year' duties I found myself playing a little game with Miss Willow(see right).
We devised a system for the pool.  You see, the first few times in the water were a little rough for Willow.  She would clench her legs tightly around my waist and hold on with a death grip, she was nervous of this unknown feeling, a swimming pool.  Then once MeeMaw was in and she could see that there was no real danger, she slowly loosened her grip.  Gradually she was able to play on the steps in the shallow part of the pool without me or MeeMaw holding her.  Here comes the part where we played our little game.  Willow would count, “one, two, free!” and then jump into my arms.  Then we would swim out a little ways with her in my arms and she would say, “Back to my stef, back to my stef!”  (for those of you not fluent in two year old, that means take me back to my step, now!).  Then she would wave bye-bye, give me a kiss and hug and I would pretend to be going on an extended journey.  Then I’d hear her cry out, “One, two, free!” and before I knew it the whole game would start over again and she would jump into my arms.

This seems like something cutsie and trivial but something that my dad once told me made me stop and think for a moment.  He said to me, “Anna, if you can’t appreciate the expressions a kid makes, what do you really have in life?”  I decided when my dad said this that A: He was a very wise man who loved kids a whole lot; B: I love kids a whole lot too; and C: He was right, you can learn a lot from kids.   I realized as I played back that fun little charade with Willow that her expressions spoke loudly to a piece of life.  As Willow jumped for the first time into my arms there was an expression of nervousness and wonder.  Little by little she got more and more brave.  She jumped further and into deeper water and sometimes she jumped even when I wasn’t quite all the way back to where I was ready to catch her.  Her expression gradually turned from fear into exhilaration, trust and adventure.  It was a progression I hope I never forget.

In my life, I like the idea of being able to jump.  I like the idea of going deeper and trusting more and more with each leap.  It’s hard, but when I think of the look on Willow’s face, the look of pure joy, I can’t help but think that it is worth it.

Freedom

Happy 4th of July, everyone!

Freedom.  What does freedom really mean to you?
I remember be so excited when I finally left for college for the first time.  Finally I was going to have real freedom!
I remember running the other night on the gravel road by our farm and seeing a field full of fire flies.  That felt like freedom.
I experienced a joyous freedom when the final bell rang on the last day of school this year.
Living on your own-ultimate, eat ice cream at 1 in the morning, freedom.
Those are all things that I perceived as illustrating freedom.

But what does it really mean to be free?  Does it mean we are without consequence, or without guidance perhaps?

I think that while some people believe those things to be true, they are far from truth (this is probably a matter for another post).

Galatians 5 speaks to this matter of freedom.  It tells us that we are not called to indulge in the nature of our freedom, but instead to use our freedom to make the decisions that are tough, the decisions to love and to serve.

Whoa!!! That is quite the calling there.  We are supposed to use our freedom to choose service.  We are given the ability to be free but for those who have received the calling, we give up that freedom for a life of service and a life of love.

I’m sure that many of you are thinking of several different ways you are considered free on this independence day.  And you are probably even considering how important those things are to you.  While you do that, while you consider the blessing of freedom in it’s many forms, consider freedom as a calling.  And then act on that calling.

This Change in Me

I'm in vegas now.  I decided there was no better time to blog than when I'm sitting in an airport for an hour waiting on flights. :)

This also means I'm writing this blog on my phone so bear with the typos, the keyboard is seeming much smaller than I initally thought.

As for what is on my mind these days...well to be honest, a whole host of things.  I'm thinking about saying goodbye to a community and school district, finding a place to live in a new community, how different I am from my family (not bad different), how much I'm looking forward to quality time with quality people I miss, catching my connecting flight and finally how much living by myself has changed me.

I think that last thought is the one that has been creeping up on me the most lately.  I'm sure that has somethng to do with this family vacation.  If any of you have ever beeen on a family vacation where there is more than 5 people, then you know exactly what I’m talking about.  Groups like that don't move quickly, make decisions quickly and NEVER stick to a plan.  Now while that is greatly irritating and painfully inconsistant it's thngs like those that make this change in me evident.

I grew up in what lI would consider a bigger family. I was used to (sometime)controled chaos.  I will not deny that I loved control and freaked out on my mom more than once for being late but still I was comfortable with it because I expected it.  I shared a room with my sister growing up and had room mates all through college.  I was used to beig aroud people all the time.  I was used to talking to someone all the time and going with the flow and making plans for more than just me.  But, my whole life has changed now.  I live on my own with only myself to plan for, myself to rely on, and myself to talk to (everyone does this...don't deny it!).  My constant companion became my ipod and a good book.

So as you can see, a trip to Vegas with a party of 10 was a wake up call to this change in me.

To be honest, I hate this change in me.  I know that I was created to live in community and build relationships with others but this lifestyle has conditioned me otherwise and it's killing me. I miss sharing a meal, I miss being challenged, I miss a good morning hug, I miss constant noise, I miss homey warmth and little comments in passing.  I miss my family, I miss the dogs running around outside and miss  making pankcakes at 2 in the morning just cause they're our favorite.

There are a lot of things I want to go back to.  Most of all I want to go back to living in a community, in a family, where I need and am needed.

All I need

I officially leave for Las Vegas in 2.5 hours.  Yay!
My family is going on a vacation and my loving and adoring, over the top, mother got us all flights and hotels in Vegas for our yearly vacation.  Thanks mom!

I’m getting pretty excited.  I get to spend some quality time with some quality people and I’m pumped about it.  However, I think I’d be pumped about that even if we weren’t going to Las Vegas.

When people find out I’m going to Las Vegas, I always get the same responses: Have you ever been?  Here is where you need to go. . . and . . . Are you going to win big money?  I always smile and chuckle about the latter of those responses, I think because it makes me a little uncomfortable.

I’ve never been completely secure in discussing finances, but I would say that I’ve also not ever been unsure what to say when it comes to finances.  You see I’m blessed.  I know I’m blessed.  I don’t mean that I’m rich by any stretch of the imagination but I was raised with a value and responsibility for money.  

Bear with me here, I know this seems like a weird thing to blog about but I have had a lot of run ins with thinking about/reading about/and discussing money lately.

I grew up on a farm and I have to say, I think that environment taught be a lot about finances.  Maybe it was just my parents that taught me a lot, I don’t know.  We didn’t live extravagantly, we did what we could to sustain ourselves with a garden, raising chickens and pigs and working on the farm.  It was a really good experience.  My dad was financially responsible to say the least.  He was on top of all things that had to do with money and I remember specifically one time we were all eating supper together and my dad called a ‘family meeting’.  He told us that the church was asking for a commitment from our family to help with renovations and that he wanted us to decide together to make some sacrifices.  I think that act of financial leadership and trust has always stuck with me.

In the time that my dad passed away we found out just how amazing he was at being financially prepared and equally how well my mom did being handed the reigns.  It was a hard time emotionally and I’m thankful that my dad planned for it to be an easier time financially.

Anyway, now to my thoughts and feelings about this more recently, I’m pretty average for a person being on my own just out of college.  I still have student loans and car insurance, etc., etc.  That is just the way life is, but I want to go back to something I said earlier.

I’m blessed.
I know I’m blessed.

I have more than enough.  I mean that financially and in many other senses of the word, I’m sure many of you can relate.

I just watched a video by Francis Chan that he posted as a little food for thought and it is on Proverbs 30: 7-9.  He talks about praying for your portion.  Praying for just enough.  Praying that God would not give you more than just what you need.  Some people probably think this is crazy.  Why wouldn’t you pray for blessing beyond imagination?  It goes back to the proverb about a rich man getting into heaven, it is easier for a camel to got through the eye of a needle.  In my own life when things are easy, when things are going my way, when I have more than enough, sometimes I forget that I need God.  I forget that He is ALL I need.

That is really what I was taught growing up and I appreciate that now more than I ever have.

I pray that what I’m blessed with I can use to bless others and I pray that I remember, even as I go to a city where money is a god, that no riches compare to the width and depth of love that has rescued us.

Growing up!

I’m getting older.

That reality was brought up during a car ride with some friends today.  They were talking about the ails of going beyond your 40th birthday and trying to prepare me for what is to come.  Little did they know that I had just recently thought long and hard about this unavoidable truth.

Things I have noticed that make me feel old:
My 5 year high school reunion is this fall!
People who were in middle school when I was in high school are old enough to be going to college!
I pay my own bills!
My eye sight is going!
A little girl at a wedding dance didn’t know the words to a Backstreet Boys song!
My baby sister is talking about her wedding plans!
My nephew is 5 years old!
All my friends are getting married!
My body is starting to ache all over!
I may have found a grey hair!

While this is not a comprehensive list, it just goes to show that I’m growing up.

My verdict on this reality is still out.  I’m not sure if growing up is good, or not so good.  I just can’t really decide.  I think it is hard for me to decide because I don’t feel like I’ve been ‘grown up’ for very long.  I just recently started to realize that all signs point to 'adult' in my life.

For some reason I have had this perception about myself.  I see myself younger than I really am.  Sometimes I wonder if it is because I’m around middle schoolers so much that they make me act way less mature than I should.  Or maybe it is because I’ve always wanted to stay a junior in high school forever?  Maybe I’m just not very perceptive? I’m not sure why I still see myself as a younger me, but my question is; does everyone else feel as though they have no idea how they got older?

It’s weird how fast life moves.  So many things seem like just yesterday.  Then again, so many things that I never thought would be over seem like ages ago.

I think it is true, with age comes wisdom (side note- I think that my Grandpa Derby was always wise…he just seems like a guy who was wise from birth).  I will say that without a doubt I’ve become more wise with decisions and more mature in my thinking.  That came of course with a heap of experience, exposure to new things, a changed outlook on priorities and of course some heartache.  Regardless of my age or my perception of my age I think I will always have times in my life I would love to revisit.  However I would never in a million years trade the lessons I’ve learned and the ways I’ve grown in my short 23 years.

This is me (in the middle) with my older brother and sister- I don’t look too happy!

Here I am with all of my siblings in my aunts wedding- Yay for boy haircuts!! :)  (Thanks mom!)

                                                  

Now I skip to high school-notice how I cut the middle school years right out of there!  This is me with my nephew----Who is 5 years old now!!!!!!!!

Freshman in college- with my roomie and one of my best friends

                                                    

Senior year of college- trip to Florida!!!

Recent photo- Randa’s wedding (she was beyond beautiful)

                                                  

Dogs Rule! Cats Drool.

It’s about time for a new post, it’s been a while!  So as I throw on some crest white strips I’ll take a break from packing to say hello to the blog world.

(Warning-after reading this post you may think that it was pointless.  So, if you’re in a hurry I’d just skip to the last 2 paragraphs)  :)

I’m a dog person.  You know how the proverbial 2 kinds of people are determined, either your a dog person or a cat person.  I’m definitely not a cat person!  That is a realization that came long ago with a certain feline called Harbon…(uhhhh…insert skin crawling shiver).  I really disliked that cat, I disliked everything about that cat and the worst part about that hairy, stinky, cuddly, fur ball was that Harbon LOVED me.  There were numerous times when I would be napping on the couch (one of my favorite past times) and Harbon would insist on snuggling with my face….there were consequently numerous times when I would ever so lovingly toss Harbon across the room.  Since Harbon my affinity for animals of the feline persuasion has not improved…I still hate cats.  Dogs however, dogs are my kind of animal.

I think I’ve always known that I liked dogs more.  I’ve never been much of an animal person in general especially for someone who grew up on a farm (side note- I told my dad I was allergic to the outdoors at one point when I was in high school just so I didn’t have to help with chores- tee hee hee).   But deep down somewhere inside this animal-less girl lies someone who really likes dogs.

When we were growing up my family had a dog.  I think technically it was given to my brother by my grandpa, but we all claimed him.  My siblings and I grew up with this black lab and he was the best.  He was my dad’s favorite hunting dog, my brother’s best friend, my mom’s garbage disposal, my older sister’s trail riding buddy, my younger sister’s pillow and my consistent partner always up for a game of fetch.  His given name was sparky, however my younger sister and I named him Sparkles P. Wellington III, to go along with his name we created this extravagant life for him where he was a distinguished millionaire dog with a greying beard who had lived a full life evident by the 7 languages he knew, some of which included horse and squirrel (My sister and I had a very creative stage…).

Anyway the point of this story was just to covey that somewhere deep inside I’ve always loved dogs.  This love for dogs resurfaced not to long ago when the parents of a good friend of mine went out of town and they asked me to take care of their dogs for a couple days.  I was pumped about this and taking care of their three dogs was no problem at all…ahem…well at least for the most part.

Here is a little background.  My good friend, Aleigh, and her brother got their dad a very large, enthusiastic, very large birthday present.  His name is Boomer.  He is a blood hound and I think he is still a puppy, however, he is the largest dog I’ve every attempted to walk.  Boomer is huge and hyper and strong, very strong.

Here is my story of Boomer and I on a walk.
Sometime last week I ran out to their house to do the chores in the morning and decided I would walk Boomer first so he could do his business.  I go into his kennel with him and hook him up to the leash, then before I know it the kennel door flies open and Boomer was off…I was drug behind him holding on to the the leash for dear life.  We took off up the hill around the usual pasture and I decide that maybe he wouldn’t pull so much if I jogged along side him while we were up in the pasture.  I was wrong.  We started going a little ways and it was working just fine but then we got the the point where we were headed back down the hill.  Picture this:  Boomer stops.  His noes goes straight to the ground and I know I’m in trouble.  He takes off.  There is no stopping him, he is on a mission.  My light jog soon turns into sprinting…and it is not by choice.  So, now we are headed down the hill and I feel like I’m going faster than is safe by any measure of the word.  Boomer kicks it into a higher gear…ahhhh crap!  He’s off…leash out of my control and soon out of my hands.  Frick!  So I jump up and continue chasing after him I hurdle through waist high grass and jump branches and puddles in my pursuit of this very huge, very fast dog.  About when I’d lost hope and start to feel bad that he is dragging around the leash I see a glimmer of hope.  Boomer was thirsty and there just so happened to be a pond.  Yesss!!!  Apparently sniffing out things tires a dog out quite easily and a nice cool walk by the edge of the pond was just what Boom needed.  Secretly I think Boomer sensed my sense of failure because he let me creep up on him and grab the end of his leash and even pet him one or two times before he started pulling me back up to the house.

Now, this picture of my adventure with Boomer may seem pointless and a little too much for a blog like mine.  However the lesson I learned from this little Boomer endeavor was a very short, sweet, necessary lesson: You could never have an adventure like that with a cat.

And that is why someday I hope to be a dog owner.

Dum Dum Da Dum (cliche wedding song)

Sigh.  Another fabulous wedding of the summer down…. Smile.

LOVE.

There is so much love…this is the summer of love…Can you feel the love…All you need is love…Livin’ on Love...

I feel as though I’ve been living on love for a while now, other people’s love…

You see, it all started back in March when one of my very best friends, Bobbie, got married to the man of her dreams, Mike.  It continued with Grant and Hilairee’s big day of wedded bliss.  Then came Tyler and Kristin’s youthful and beautiful ceremony.  Tonight was Matt and Kendal’s memorable night... and I still have Randa and Dan, Jordan and Krystal, Alex and Joey, Josh and Anna….Oh My!!!!

Maybe it is the season of life I’m in right now, but it feels as though I’m going to an awful lot of weddings (maybe it’s just the small christian liberal arts college I chose!).  It’s a good thing that I really enjoy weddings, I love to see the grooms face light up when he sees his bride walk down the aisle.  I love to see a father choke back tears.  I love it when family gets together to celebrate.   I love it when grandma gets out there to shake her tail feathers.  I love a wedding sermon.  I love wedding cake!  :)  Weddings are just so refreshing.  They serve as a much needed reminder of many things that I appreciate.  Weddings remind us to take the time to celebrate love, weddings remind us that we are to Christ the bride, weddings remind us that even in sickness and health there is a covenant that will endure.

For me, I’m so excited to get to celebrate with so many people and share in their joys of love.  However, I can’t help wondering-when is my turn?

Let me clarify- I in no way want to appear ungrateful for my current situation or desperate for a date to a wedding.  I would just like to say that I’m really excited to find that person.  That person who I can do life with.  That person who makes me laugh when I’ve had a crappy day.  That person who thinks it’s cute when I get stressed out about the little details.  That person who will write me little notes just to make me smile.  Wedding just make me very excited to find that person for me.

As I write this I find myself reassuring, and convincing myself that resigning control is the best way to be assured of the right timing in all of this.  My time will come, it will.  I have every ounce of confidence in that and I’m excited that I can trust a God so big to orchestrate something perfect for me.  Until that time I will continue growing, and learning and watching grandma shake those tail feathers.  :)

** Best of Luck to all those who I’ve shared and will have the deep privilege of sharing such a beautiful celebration with.  You are all inspiring in your love and dedication to one another.  I will continually be praying for your ministries as newly weds and cannot wait to see how God blesses your adventures together!  I LOVE you all!

*** Also, If you have been ever so blessed to have already found that person for yourself, be reminded by this post of how lucky you are.  Be reminded of the celebration that love is, I know it is a lot of work and frequently a choice you have to make, but it is a beautiful labor and a choice worth making.  Now, go give em a big smooch!!! :)