Ripe with Promise and Possibility

This is officially the last post of 2009. 2010 is just a few hours away, ripe with possibility and promise. A lot can happen in 365 days. A lot can happen.

On the home front, we moved again in 2009, making this, the "Kenross House," our 5th residence in two years. But we only moved once in 2009, so it seems things might be slowing down. Our house in Georgia never sold, but we did finally get it leased, which reduced a little bit of our stress. We moved a bit of our furniture here with us to the Kenross House. Something about sitting on your own couch makes life feel better. :)

Here is a 2009 family recap in no particular order: move, move, get a job, quit a job, find love, graduate from college, lose love, move, get a job, get a job, look for work, love my work, make new friends, lose friendships, get sick, get well, lose loved ones, grow increasingly closer to God, discover new talents, start a non-profit, celebrate birthdays, and love one another like never before.

All that to say, 2009 was a crazy year. But 2010 is just around the corner. Who knows what will happen? It is ripe with promise and possibility.

It Feels a Lot Like Limbo

The week between Christmas and New Years is my least favorite time of the year. For some reason, it feels a lot like limbo. Not the going down backwards under a stick kind of limbo, but the hanging out in one place with no sign of a future direction kind of limbo.

Christmas and all of its rush has gone away, all of its tender emotion has faded, people already seem more jaded, more ready to just get on with life. And yet the new year is just around the corner, filled with promise and waiting for us to catch up.

So for one in-between week, we twiddle our thumbs. Some of us go back to our jobs, but some of us don't. Some of us de-Christmasize the house, some of us don't. Some of us return our Christmas gifts and buy decorations for next year, some of us don't. And a select few of us might be thinking about new year's resolutions like dieting, or quitting some bad habit. But as we wait for the new year to arrive, we over-indulge in those things that we know we are about to give up.

I'd like to think of a better way to spend this week. It's a time-out. How often do we get a time out? How often do we take a time out when it's given. Instead of feeling like I'm waiting to exhale, I'm going to breathe in and out very slowly, very deeply, for the next several days. I'm going to sit at the feet of Jesus, converse with Him over a delicious cup of Ethiopian coffee, and learn to enjoy limbo week.

All that to say, "Let us come before His presence with thanksgiving" and yummy coffee, and a calm heart, and soak in His goodness.

Over Informed

I have decided that one can be "over informed." I remember that my mom used to say, "Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to." What she meant was, "You can be over informed, and that's not always a good thing."

I think the modern world of facebook and twitter (do people still use myspace?) has lent itself to a lot of this phenom of being over informed. I mean, do I really need to know that you just got out of the shower? Do you need to know that I just did two loads of laundry?

And then there is the stalking aspect of social media. You know what really makes me laugh about "stalking?" If you look at someone's pictures, or you comment about one, or anything like that, they'll say with indignation "were you stalking me?" HELLO, you are the one that put it out there for all to see!

Then there is the drama aspect. You know, the drama I mean. There is always some kind of facebook drama, and it is not just girls involved in it. Someone posts something stupid, or mean, or someone gets jealous b/c they see that two friends were hanging out w/o them, etc., etc., etc.,

You see what I mean? Here is how I know when I am becoming over informed (I still think over informed should be one word, but spellcheck says otherwise!). When I start feeling anxious as I am reading FB, when it starts sucking the life out of me, when I start hating what I read, or it makes me mad (don't act like you have never read something on FB that didn't frustrate you or make you mad) or I feel sad,etc. I take a facebook hiatus, or as someone wrote the other day, I "fastbook." I get offline and do something more valuable with my time.

All that to say, you can be over informed.

I Wonder If He Knows

I wonder if he knows just how incredible he is. I wonder if he knows that he was a beautiful, unexpected, incredible gift to his dad and me. I wonder if he knows that the creative spark he has in him, that burst of energy that says, "Start something new" didn't come from either of us, so it must have been placed deep within him by God. I wonder if he knows that beyond the boundaries of today lies great purpose, big challenges and unforeseeable promise.

I wonder if he knows that all those times he has messed up in life will be outshadowed by all the great things he will someday do. I wonder if he knows that God measures his character, and seeing beyond all of his faults, has destined him for a greater purpose. I wonder if he knows that this "calling" also calls him to live each day with purpose.

I wonder if he knows that he has so much to offer someone who really wants him, who will really love him, and who will never hurt him or want to hurt him. I wonder if he knows that out there in this big world is the woman that God has created to complete him. I wonder if he knows that the first step out of darkness is also the first step toward that someone, the first step toward light. I wonder if he knows he deserves that kind of love?

I wonder if he knows that he can trust again, trust God, trust love, trust people. I wonder if he knows that by trusting, he can finally let go of the past and embrace the future.

I wonder if he could possibly fathom how much he is loved by those who are closest to him.

All that to say, I wonder if he knows.

My Friend, Helen

Helen and I met at church, where I was the Children's Pastor and she was a volunteer. We struck up an immediate friendship because she had the most infectious laugh known to man. She was the kind of person that just lit up a room with her laugh.

Helen was always getting on to me and telling me that I was naughty (which, of course, was TOTALLY not true . . .) and that I was a bad influence on her, and didn't I KNOW that I was a CHILDREN'S PASTOR and there were certain expectations of my behavior. Again, I don't know WHY she said such things to me.

One time, we were walking into church from the parking lot, where they had recently poured these huge concrete speed bumps. To be safe, they had painted them bright yellow so people wouldn't trip over them. So as we were walking, Helen approached the BRIGHT YELLOW speed bump and just went FLYING over it. I know I shouldn't have laughed, but it was funny. I mean, one second we were talking, and the next, Helen was airborne! She did skin herself up pretty badly, so I felt bad for laughing, but she laughed too, which made me laugh all the harder because as I mentioned before she had a very infectious laugh.

That afternoon, when I got to AWANA (where she volunteered), she took my Sparky pin (it's a little mascot character for AWANA) and turned him upside-down and said that until I did a good deed, I had to leave my Sparky upside down. She said that was my punishment for laughing at her in the parking lot. From that day forward, anytime I didn't something she considered "naughty" she would turn my Sparky upside-down.

Fast forward several years, when Mike and I were moving to Georgia. She made me a beautiful red scarf, attached an upside-down Sparky to it, and told me that she wanted to give me something that would always remind me of her, my "Upside-Down Sparky Friend." I still have that scarf, which does always remind me of her, but I have so many other things that remind me of her as well.

Yesterday, my upside-down Sparky friend went to be with Jesus after a lengthy battle with cancer.

All that to say, I love you Helen. Have fun at Jesus' birthday party and I will see you when I get there.