Love...joy...PEACE...PATIENCE...kindness...goodness...faithfulness...self-control

Love: I love my students, Carol LOVES the snow.

PEACE:Amazingly I think I have it right now, certianly the kind that is beyond understanding.

PATIENCE:I have it right now, but you can pray that it lasts the 300 mile drive home.

Kindness:Our volunteers who have taken time off to come up here and serve.

Goodness:The friendly man at the autoshop who is going to look at our broken car, even though he is snowed in.

Faithfulness: The snow is falling faithfully we have had about 2 feet in the last 24 hours.

Self-control: Britany and me havn't lost it yet.

Against such things there is no Law.

Funny how God has a way of bringing scripture to life :)

storm watch

This image I found today was titled "Before the Storm"

My friends this is where I am headed for the weekend. Oh joy.

I am taking a group of Sr. High students to spend the weekend at South Lake Tahoe. Please keep us (keep me) in your prayers. I am actually looking forward to the trip, but that may just be my need for a vacation out weighing the storm watch headlines.

In all seriousness, I think that this trip has the potential to be great, and I want to have a great time with the students who are coming. So please pray for safe travels, safety on the slopes (not me, of course with the foot and all) and for students to really have hearts and minds challenged this weekend by God through the times of worship and messages. I might have a chance to post while we are away, but don't count on it.

Thanks for your prayers.

things you don't want to hear in an ER...

The steps going down to my humble apartment are what one may expect, slippery when wet. Yet they sure caught me off guard Tuesday night as I made my way down the uneven pathway to my little home. Down being the operative word. As my slick soled FloJo (flip flop to those of you who don't know)made contact with equally slippery surface of the redwood portion of my stair and I found myself on the ground before I even realized I was falling. Actually, very little of me came in contact with the surface, mostly just my the top right section of my right foot. Being my mothers daughter I am quite accustom to falling, so even though it hurt (a lot) since I really, really needed to pee, I picked myself up and made it the rest of the way to my restroom. A minute later, my friend Brandon arrived, and let himself in, and by that time my foot had not only turned lovely shades of black and blue it had also become quite puffy. It was clear that our pasta dinner plans had just been tossed out the window,as I phoned my Dad to take me down to emergency.

Being the amazing Dad that he his, he kindly rushed over and helped me hobble back up my many steps, dirt stick covered path to his waiting car. We tried with no avail to make it to the local Urgent Care before the 9pm closing and then made our way down to the E.R. Where we were to sit for the next 3 hours.

The first hour or so, the waiting room was actually quite full, and the TV was tuned to AMC and Death Wish II. Not really the kind of movie I suspect most people who are waiting in for a doctor are in the mood to watch. Filled with scenes of blood, and dying, rape and people creating false identities to work in hospitals. As comforting as that was, I was pretty jazzed when we were the only ones left on our side of the room and got to change to the Food Network just in time to watch Anthony Bourdain eat the still beating heart of a cobra. Now I realize that while this still might not be something most people in a hospital waiting room would find comforting it is like being at home for me. And it provided just enough of a distraction to take my mind off of the pain shooting though my foot. Apparently two other people who walked in agreed and made their way over to our corner of the world to join us in the stomach wrenching fun.

It was right between the switch in Television programing that a nurse came out of the back to get a guy (who had apparently brought someone else in)saying to him, "I think she wants to say goodbye." Are you kidding me? This is not something you want to hear a nurse say. Perhaps a better choice of words would have been, "She is okay enough to stay without you so she wants to talk to you before you take off for the night." I don't know anything but, "I think she wants to say goodbye."

Of course there are other things you might not want to hear in the E.R., I know I was not pleased to hear that I had broken my foot, and that meant 6-8 weeks on crutches.

Yep, so not what I wanted to hear, but better than..."I think she wants to say goodbye."

One Fish Two Dead Little Blue Fish

So I guess the guy at the pet store might have been correct. My no name Blue Fish has died, and taken a trip down stream.

Name Fines

I have always had a thing about names. Sometimes I really question parents' sanity and cruelty when naming their children. We have all heard winners like Ima and Ura Pig or Bar Bee Que and now celebrities naming their children things like; Apple, Camera, Puma, Denim, Suri...It's as if they just looked up and named the first thing they saw.

Then this weekend I was hit with a whole family of names that should have never happened and that is why I was so pleased to find out that the people of New Zealand are taking a stand and finally doing something to punish the parents for naming there children such sad names.



Maybe this will catch on here in the states. In fact maybe my friends at Child Care should take it upon themselves to start fining parents who drop off kids with horrible names. You could put the money towards next summers Child Care Shirts or Retreat.

Ahhh my life backwards

This video is was made by The Skit Guys who perform at Youth Specialties as an entry for a South West Airlines Commercial competition. It will be airing in April, but they showed it at the convention I just went to and it rang so true, that I wanted to share it with you. Enjoy.

cut it off

My left leg is covered in little bumps. I don't know how many maybe twenty or thirty of these tiny little bumps. These bumps started out as nothing more than just that, but now they have mutated into a huge annoyance. They have started to itch, and when I say itch I mean I have considered hacking off the bottom half of my leg. Admittedly that thought did not last long, but it was quickly replaced by the desire to gnaw on my own leg like a dog with fleas. I now have sympathy for mans best friend. Although I will never understand lickings one's privates.

But back to my shin. It itches crazy bad, or at least it did this morning, and that got me to thinking...funny how things that drive one insane start out as a small almost unnoticeable and soon they develop into something that you cannot escape.

The questions that arise are at what point and for what reasons do the little things switch from something small and indistinguishable to the thing that you wish to rid yourself of no matter what the cost?

The itching has subsided at the moment, but not on its own. I had to dowsed each of the little bumps with Benadryl. If only riding myself of all the other annoyances in my life was as simple as a dab of Benadryl.

Disillusioned

I have always clung to the quote "some people say movies should be more like real life, I say real life should be more like the movies." For whatever reason is resonated with me. There have even been those who have gone out of their way to make my life more like a movie, and while that was always fun, I am beginning to feel disillusioned.

Maybe the quote is wrong. Maybe I often miss out on life as it is because I am disappointed when it doesn't play out like anyone of a million movie scenes. I often find myself comparing any given moment in my day to that of a movie, or television moment. And while sometimes my everyday life seems like something right off of the silver screen I would be lying to say that most of my life plays out that way.

So have I let the multiple imaginings of Hollywood and the film/television industry totally taint my view of my own life? Yes, I think so. And I am still thinking about this and its implications, working out how to reconcile my love for the movies, and my desire to live my life to its fullest without setting myself up for disappointment.

No Pain No Gain

Most people go to a spa to relax...I guess that is why I went, to relax and be tortured at the same time if that is possible. Meaning that I went knowing that I had signed my self up for a 65 min deep tissue massage. Perhaps I am one of those people who enjoy pain, I don't know, but what I do know is that I was looking forward to my hour and five minutes of intense pressure, in hopes that it would produce the desired result of less pain in the hours following. What I did not expect is how hard it was to relax at a spa.

I have never been to a spa for anything other than a hair appointment, and then you are in the salon, so it doesn't really count. When I arrived at the spa I was kindly greeted by a few girls sitting behind a huge desk. Then quickly ushered through a etched glass door into a dark hallway. Having no idea where I was heading, I just focused on keeping up, as well as trying to retain all of the information spilling out of the girls mouth leading me.

"you are hear early, so you can relax in out library" She said pointing in the direction of a even darker room lit only by maybe three tea lights. I could kind of make out a book shelf. She went on,"when you come back here you can fill out this form before your technician (this is not a relaxing term) comes to get you." She continued on so I followed. "Here is the Ladies lounge," she said as she ushered me through another doorway. I entered a lit room with a counter and hair dryers, products and little stools to sit upon in front of giant mirrors. (oh goody, giant mirrors are always comforting, in bright light) Why not have the dim light in this room and the lights on in the room where you are supposed to fill out forms and read books. I was about to ask her this when I realized she was still dispensing information. So I just listened and kept walking. "Here are the toilets, the changing room and here is your locker. You have locker L here in the corner. Okay?"

I wasn't she why my opinion on which locker was important, but I said, "oh sure."

"Alright then you can change into this robe and these slippers, and then relax in the library. Any questions?" I was still trying to look like I had done this a million times before, "nope." She disappeared around the corner. Seemed simple enough. I used the bathroom, and then realized that she had not given me a key or a code for my locker. I sat there and worried for a min. But then when I got back to my little locker I found a key in the lock. How handy.

So I grabbed my robe and slippers and headed into a changing stall (side note do not make the mistake of typing a s in place of a c in the word 'changing')
It was not until I got in there that I realized I did have a question..."how much am I supposed to be wearing under this here robe?" But it was too late, the rambling girl was gone. So after debating with myself I decided that I was not supposed to wear anything under the robe, because the end of my session would be ending in a shower, and no one wears clothes in the shower.

Don't get me wrong I have had massages plenty of times before, but they are all different, some in full clothes, some in under wear and others in your birthday suit.

I was okay with my decision to ditch the clothes, that was until I got back to the library. And went to sit down and realized that this robe had no intention of being on my side. It wanted to play peek-a-boo (now I understand the need for the low lighting) with the old man sitting across from me trying to see his form enough to fill it out. He gave up. I tried to fill mine out and not lose the robe in the process. All of which was anything but relaxing. Finally just as I was starting to flip through a magazine, my technician came to take me away.

She lead me down another hallway and into yet another dimly lit room. She said, "I'll leave you here and be right back when you are ready." And left. Luckily I have done this part before so I hung the robe up and slipped onto the table, under the sheets. "okay time to relax, finally..." But then, there was the constant dripping of water noise...along with the stuffy nose that I had, from the smell of the candles or something...which left me to breath through my mouth, which seemed really loud in that room.

But even with all of that the massage was wonderful, painful but amazing... and it turns out I made the right choice in wearing only the robe. And I was glad that I had taken the time to shave :) And the steam shower was absolutely relaxing.

All in all it was stressful at first and but by the end I felt like...well like me but a nice relaxed version of me. Until I had to drive my stick back over hyw17 :)

What a Girl Wants

My friend and I were talking and he said something to the effect that it is difficult to be the guy that girls want because we want various things. We want the silent brooding type, yet get mad when that same guy seems distant and unresponsive. Or perhaps we want the guy who will let us open our own door, and pay for things, but then we complain that the guy is not the gentleman we have always dreamed of. You get the idea.
I pointed out girls have the same issues. We don't know what to be the girl next door, or the independent self reliant woman. Unsure if we should pursue a career or be simply wife and mom. Should we be loud or soft spoken.
He said it was totally not the same because guys know that they are not going to get what they want, while girls hold on to the hope of finding that guy who can be perfect, brooding at times and talkative at others.
I found it mildly frustrating that he has given up hope of finding what he was looking for, until he went on to say that what he really wants is a woman who will leave him alone. At least that is what he wants right now.
I for one agree that I am holding out for the perfect guy, but not perfect in the sense that he is actually perfect, just that he is perfect for me. I don't know for certain what that entails but with each year that passes I am getting a clearer picture.

I do know this...The guy must have a sense of humor, able to find humor in life and to laugh with me and make me laugh. I want to be able to make him laugh as well.

I'm a Christ Follower (Mac vs. PC Parody) Part 02

I found this video along with a collection of others after visiting Markos' blog. Which if you have not been to and are into youth work I would encourage you to check out. I posted this because I think it opens the door to some much needed dialog about what it means to be a Christian vs. A Follower of Christ. But before I post my opinions I want to know yours...

These Ears Have Heard Some Funny Stuff

I work with youth, and thus get to hear some pretty funny stuff...

My first week we were talking about sin and one of my students asked "so...is making pot brownies a sin?"

Then we were in the middle of a game where the kids end up hitting one another with a giant foam block when they are to slow to give the right response. One girl after getting hit with the block one too many times, proclaimed "I am not a human pinata!"

But one of my all time favorites is one I was told...

One of my girls was riding in the family car with her mom, dad, older brother and sister when all of the sudden she yells out, "I AM NOT A VIRGIN." Which came as quite a shock to mom and dad. When asked to clarify she said, "she called me a virgin, but I'm not, I'm not." Mom and dad are now alarmed that their baby girl is not only not a virgin but is proud of the fact. Later to find out that her big sister had convinced her that to be a virgin meant the opposite of what it actually means. Quite funny if you ask me. Points to the creative big sis.

Stickin With It

So this is my new ride. Cool right? Yep. But not when you have never driven a stick. But don't you worry this girl is stickin' with it. I am going to make this car look good. Which means having to look like an idiot for a day or two as I kill it in intersections and do my best to avoid rolling backwards on hills. SO if you live in Santa Cruz County and you see this cute car jetting about give a girl a break and back off. No one is perfect, give me a little time and I might even give you a ride, if you are nice.

Caffine and Opium

My dad picked me up with Coffee and a Lemon Poppy Seed muffin this morning. Which he kindly picked up at Coffee Cat.

I guess that would make him my drug supplier as those are my drugs of choice. My Dad, My Boss, My Pastor and My Supplier. Hummm what a collection of roles he holds.