[thoughts on]

Baby Thoughts

2010-10-07T18:00:00.000-07:00

Before I forget...

My cravings.
Red meat and watermelon. I remember feeling ravenous for a watermelon in the middle of March. So expensive, but I think I still bought one or two. And beef. One night we were supposed to eat leftovers. Andy saw me pouting by the fridge. I told him that I really wanted a steak. He said, "My dear, you shall have steak!" It was one of the best nights of his life.

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Leg cramps.
I got lots of them. At night. In my calves. I'd hop out of bed and try my hardest to stand up straight because ooooooooooo it hurt!

On the first night of our birthing classes, we practiced doing "hip compressions" which were supposed to help if you had back labor. The next morning I woke up with a bad leg cramp. Andy usually would give me a groggy "Are you okay?" when I had one. This time he practically jumped out of bed and asked, "Do you need me to do a hip compression???" Funniest part was that he was asleep - he didn't remember it at all.

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What I did at 3 am.
Pee. And then go drink a huge glass of water. Andy usually asked me if I was having contractions when I got up. Once again, completely asleep. But it's really sweet to know that he is thinking of my needs even in his sleep.

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Exposure of pride.
I had such a great pregnancy. No vomiting. Little nausea. Slept pretty well. Got the usual aches and pains, but nothing too bad. Blood pressure = perfect. Glucose levels = great. What? My baby is breech? But I am so awesome at being pregnant! Look at how fertile my husband and I are! Surely that can't be. And surely I can flip her because, after all, I am awesome.

Dear Heather - it is only by the grace of God that you are having a baby at all. You have so little to do with it. His mercy allows that child to grow and thrive in you. If any hands can move her, it is His. And if they don't, He has a plan. Trust God. Not yourself.

Smile and Nod

2010-05-12T16:41:00.000-07:00

What?

Sorry?

I didn’t hear you.

Oh… umm… yes… ?

Or should that have been a no? I didn’t hear you.

Sometimes I think I’m going deaf. Or the rest of the world is going mumble-y. Though Mr. Wright would tell you that I’m a pretty good mumbler myself, there are times when I simple can’t hear.

Were you talking about the construction?

Do I have something on my face?

Was that a question?

Smile and nod.

The Deal

2010-03-19T11:38:00.000-07:00

Here it is.

It will be Mrs. Wright Cooks.

And it will appear.

I have many posts already pre-written.

We are simply waiting.... waiting.... waiting....

So you must wait.... wait.... wait....

Peace out.

World Mission Society Church of God

2010-01-24T16:46:00.000-08:00

"Hi there, my friend and I are from Elohim Academy and we're working on a project for one of our classes. Can I tell you about it? Did you know that the Bible says that there is God the Mother?"

So began my conversation with Melissa from the World Mission Society Church of God. Andy and I were spending our date night at Lloyd Center Mall. I emerged from a store to find Andy sitting down with a man who was showing him something from a book. Melissa approached me and caught my attention right away with her opening pitch. Once I recovered from my surprise, I gladly sat down to hear about God the Mother.

Melissa took me first to Revelation 22:17:

"The Spirit and the bride say, "Come!" And let him who hears say, "Come!" Whoever is thirsty, let him come; and whoever wishes, let him take the free gift of the water of life."

Melissa says, see, the Bible says that Christ will have a bride.

I responded to her that there are many places in the Bible that refer to the body of believers, the church, as the bride of Christ. Without missing a beat, she said, "Let me show you another verse."

This time, Revelation 21:9-10:

"One of the seven angels who had the seven bowls full of the seven last plagues came and said to me, "Come, I will show you the bride, the wife of the Lamb." And he carried me away in the Spirit to a mountain great and high, and showed me the Holy City, Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God."

See there - the angel tells John that he will be shown the bride of Christ and he shows John Jerusalem, Melissa says. Jerusalem is a person and the bride of Christ.

I said, no, the city of Jerusalem is a real city, the rest of the chapter describes it in detail, and John was shown the city because that is where the bride of Christ, all Christians, will live.

"Let me show you another verse," Melissa said.

She took me to Galations and told me it says that Jerusalem is our mother. Galations 4:22-26:

"For it is written that Abraham had two sons, one by the slave woman and the other by the free woman. His son by the slave woman was born in the ordinary way; but his son by the free woman was born as the result of a promise. These things may be taken figuratively, for the women represent two covenants. One covenant is from Mount Sinai and bears children who are to be slaves: This is Hagar. Now Hagar stands for Mount Sinai in Arabia and corresponds to the present city of Jerusalem, because she is in slavery with her children. But the Jerusalem that is above is free, and she is our mother."

So you see, Jerusalem is our mother and the bride of Christ, She said.

No, I said, The use of mother here is figurative. It's a figure of speach to call a city or country your mother. You know, like 'the motherland'.

Melissa argued that it says the Jerusalem above, we don't live in the Jerusalem that comes from above.

I told her that when you accept Christ as your Savior you receive that citizenship. If you belong to Christ then the New Jerusalem is your new 'motherland.'

"Let me show you another verse."

Genesis 1:26-27:

"Then God said, "Let us make man in our image, in our likeness... So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them."

Melissa argued that God referred to himself in the plural and that he made humans male and female as there was male and female God. I told her that John chapter one talks about Jesus being present at creation, so that accounts for the plural 'our' and that it isn't just genitalia that make man man and woman woman. It's the essence, and God himself contains all that.

She seemed to be running out of arguments so I asked her why I should believe in God the Mother. Because it's in the Bible, she said. I told her that surely she knows that what she is saying is contrary to what nearly every Christian will believe.

Wanting to know more, I asked her how one receives the gift that the Spirit and the bride offer in Revelation. Melissa took me on a scattered journey through Matthew, Isaiah, Hebrews, Revelation and Exodus. She said that in Matthew 5 when Jesus said that he came to fullfil the law he meant that we must keep the law as it was written. So we must keep the feasts, most importantly the sabbath and passover. And in Isaiah 2 it talks about the law coming from Mt. Zion, so we have to find Mt. Zion and receive the law there. When we celebrate passover it must be with passover bread and passover wine. And if we do that we will be like the 144,000 in Revelation 7 to whom no calamity will come.

Oi vey. This girl moved so fast I could hardly get a word in. For every question and contradiction she had an answer. Not a good one, but an answer. When she first began she was smiling and animated. By the end of our conversation, which lasted about 30 minutes, she had a long face. Several times she told me she would show me one more thing and then let me go because she knew I needed to. Once she finished I'd ask her another question. Hey, the longer I kept her talking to me the less time she could talk to someone else!

Finally, Andy had finished his conversation with the man so I decided to wrap up mine. I asked Melissa if she had a brochure about her church that she could give me. No. A website? No. Anything? No. What church are you with? Church of God. Very nondescript.

There are a hundred things I wish I had said to her but didn't get a chance to or didn't think about it at the time. I'm sure I blundered my way through many of the things I did say. But I was infinately thankful for the chance to talk. Who knows - maybe I said something right that will stick. Ultimately, it made me angry to watch someone take my Bible and twist it to make it say something it doesn't. And it made my heart hurt to see someone so wrong and confused.

Saturday I Googled "God the Mother." Finally on page eight of my search I found another blog post chronicling an encounter much like my own. This one provided a link to the World Mission Society Church of God. That was it! I found them! Go ahead - check them out. You will find that God the Mother is actually incarnate and lives on "Mt. Zion" in Korea. Also, we apparently missed the second coming of Christ. His name was Ahnsahnghong. Unfortunately, he died in 1985, but you won't find anything about that on their website.

Put 'em up - EDIT - Poll Open

2010-01-20T14:44:00.000-08:00

A tie? Really?

What am I supposed to do with a tie? Mr. Wright suggests that I have a cage fight-to-the-death match between the two blogs. I can see it now...

[Cue 50's radio announcer] And in this corner, weighing in at twenty latte bowls, Mrs. Wright "The Cleaner" Cooks, and in the other corner, cooked to golden brown and delicious, Who Burnt the Toast "Toastie".

Tonight's Fight-to-the-Death is brought to you by Ovaltine. Loved by Little Orphan Annie's everywhere. 'Drink More Ovaltine.'

This will be a fight to remember, folks.

DING!

I just don't know - how can I choose between Mrs. Wright Cooks' clean lines and sophisticated curves and Toastie's kitchy, fun-loving funk? Between the Cook's calm and the Toast's excitement? As long as I don't quite have the time to devote, I suppose I don't have to make the decision.

Until then, yours ever,

- H

New Year, New Blog

2010-01-10T16:25:00.000-08:00

There is something so alluring about blogging. Yet I am a terrible blogger. Often my blog sits with the same sad post on top for weeks, nay months on end. And still I hear the sirens calling.

Will I answer?

Will I resolve once more to blog once, twice, thrice a week?

Will my resolution once again fall flat?

I'm just so busy. I'm not complaining, though. I mean... I do work forty hours a week... I do still manage to take care of my housewifery duties... I do serve at church... Sometimes it's just hard to find time at the end of the day to work out - read - sew - bake - blog... But I'm not complaining.

I think about my blog much more than I post. I just don't sit down and put it out there. But I haven't forgotten my resolve. I haven't forgotten my promise.

Dear friends, I offer you a food blog. And you will help me. Below you will see a few blogs that I have a mind to create and you can vote for your favorite. The one with the most votes will become the rarely updated blog that you will frequently visit.

On the left side of the page you will see a poll box where you can place your vote. In the next few weeks (or months) I will launch the new blog.

New adventure, new resolve, new excitement!

Dear Craigslist,

2010-01-08T09:44:00.000-08:00

I love you. Would you like to know why? You provide a multitude of lessons:

1) No one on Craigslist knows how to spell, or at least doesn’t proofread what they write before they post. Examples: fouton, tabel/talble, “Asleys Love seat Bught it new But it dosen't feet, Can't returned because I got it out of the Clearance area.I had it for 5 months and I have the recits. It mesures 70inch x 39.inch”, lovseat, armoier.

2) Beautiful, gorgeous, vintage, nice, mid-modern, and antique are relative words.

3) The 80's and 90's were a very bad time for furniture.

4) There is a lot of bad furniture.

5) There are lots of people that attribute the words “beautiful” and “gorgeous” to bad furniture.

6) Anything “vintage” or “mid-modern” automatically doubles in price even if (perhaps, because) it has been puked on and ripped by a cat.

7) It is possible to trade PBR for furniture.

Love, H

P.S. I'm glad to live in America, and I'm glad that America is a diverse nation. So I understand that not all your users are native English speakers. Therefore, those people receive grace, grace, marvelous grace. However, I am also aware that there are many native English speakers who do not take the time to master it. Perhaps that is why so many non-native English speakers have trouble... just a thought.

P.P.S. Is that a Lite Brite coffee table? Oh joy!

My 8 p.m. Living Room

2010-01-06T07:13:00.000-08:00

{Though a week late}

My 6 a.m. Kitchen

2009-12-31T07:28:00.000-08:00

Believe it or not, the walls are an improvement over the raspberry wallpaper that was there before. And how do you like my breakfast nook? Cute, no?

Favorite Things

2009-12-06T16:46:00.000-08:00

Carhartts

Flannel Shirt

Working in the Yard

At the House That We Own

I'm. In. Heaven.

Home

2009-12-06T16:40:00.000-08:00

[Taken with my camera phone. Not as cool as Jemaines, but okay.]

It's Happening...

2009-11-16T11:11:00.000-08:00

Seven

2009-10-10T15:43:00.000-07:00

Seven. Seven is the number of birds that have, er, kicked the bucket by flying into our sliding glass door these past two weeks. The story goes like this:

Bird eats berries off the tree in front of our deck. Bird likes berries. Bird gets all his buddies to come eat the berries too. Birds get excited. Maybe a little drunk. Nobody assigned a designated driver. They all decide to leave at once. Some fly left, some fly right, some fly up, some fly down, and some choose to fly right into our door.

A few of them are able to flap and flop themselves back to life (nature's defibrillator), but seven, alas, didn't make it. They become an easy treat for a neighborhood cat. Not our cat. Some other cat.

Speaking of cats, it makes me think about the Mexican cat my brother and I found when we were living in El Paso. Poor lil' girl. She swam across the Rio just for the chance at a better life. I sure hope we gave that to her. Sigh.

Come, Fall

2009-09-25T10:34:00.000-07:00

Fall is my favorite season. Though I think I say that about every season. Oh, but fall…

Fall gives us the best of summer without the tyrannous heat. Come, day and light, give us your warm, low sun. Kiss our lips with the last rose of summer.

Fall gives us the best of winter without the fleeting daylight. Come, evening and dark, give us rest in your cool air. Touch our cheeks with wintery fingers.

Fall gives us the heaviness of the harvest. Come, fields, praise God with your worth. Fill our bellies with nourishing comfort.

Fall beckons wool and cashmere out from their summer tomb. Come, sweaters, enfold us in soft pile. We itch to be itching.

Fall wraps its golden thread round the trees and bushes. Come, Lord, wrap a golden thread round me. May I offer a display of your uniqueness and beauty.

Fall feels like the glorious culmination of a successful spring and summer before its wintery end. Come, Lord, place your blessing on me as I move through spring and summer, awaiting culmination. May I have a full harvest.

Pickles, Pickles, Everywhere

2009-09-14T12:19:00.000-07:00

Thanks to the canning equipment from my mom-in-law and the 20+ pounds of cucumbers from my friend, I now have 30 jars of pickles in my cupboard.

What shall I do with 30 jars of pickles, you ask? Eat them. Eat them all. Providing they taste good, I just might share some with you. That is, if we can make it past six weeks of curing without popping the lids off and tucking in.

The Life of Missing

2009-09-01T07:14:00.001-07:00

I am perpetually missing something. Trying to bake and missing an ingredient (currently: molasses). Coming home from the store only to find I am out of something else (currently: napkins). Trying to use Mod Podge without a foam brush (substitute: q-tips).

It’s a hard life to live, to be always doing without. I’d like to think I have become very resilient and creative because of it. In fact, I used up my molasses because I was halfway through making oatmeal cookies only to find I was out of brown sugar (substitute: white sugar and molasses). And we have fabric napkins, which always serve to add a little elegance to any meal.

But there is something always missing that I can’t substitute or fix myself. Well, I suppose it’s not exactly missing, rather incomplete. Wanting. Partial. Imperfect. It’s that space in between my front teeth. A diastema. Gap teeth.

I thank God that my teeth are straight. Despite my heavy coffee and tea drinking, fairly white (thank you, Oral-B and Crest White Strips). Braces were never an option growing up. And I envy my brothers with their un-braced straight and even teeth. But with my gap teeth, freckles, and hair that some people insist is redish, I feel like I belong with the Beverly Hillbillies. I never felt more like a honky than when we lived in El Paso, Texas. The Hispanic kids with their dark hair, brown skin, and black eyes regularly ridiculed me about my fair skin, skinny legs, freckles, and gap teeth.

Different eras in history thought gap teeth were a sign of beauty. Favor from God. Dare I say it - erotic. But in our era of manufactured beauty it’s easy to feel insufficient. If one doesn’t have a perfect body, perfect skin, perfect hair, perfect teeth, don’t even consider thinking oneself pretty.

My mind is a sea of emotions regarding my teeth. On the wave crest I like the shape of my teeth and don’t mind the distance between them. In the troughs I think I can’t go another day with these holes in my smile.

I insisted to Mr. Wright that once we had bought a house and worked out our new monthly budget that I wanted braces. “Okay,” he says. “But I’ll miss the old you.” Would I miss the old me? Would I fix my missing only to find I have a new missing?

Psalm 139:13-18¹³ You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body
and knit me together in my mother’s womb.¹⁴ Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex!
Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it.¹⁵ You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion,
as I was woven together in the dark of the womb.¹⁶ You saw me before I was born.
Every day of my life was recorded in your book.
Every moment was laid out
before a single day had passed.¹⁷ How precious are your thoughts about me, O God.
They cannot be numbered!¹⁸ I can’t even count them;
they outnumber the grains of sand!
And when I wake up,
you are still with me!

Thank you, God, for making me. For making me unique and one-of-a-kind. Thank you for purposing me the way you did. I know it is no accident - with you there are no accidents. Help me to love your workmanship, inside and out. You are altogether holy and praiseworthy.

Design Bravery

2009-08-19T08:48:00.000-07:00

You may know that a year and a half ago I took up sewing. It has turned into nearly an obsession. I love the entire process - choosing a project, picking out fabric, cutting the fabric, sewing it together, ripping it apart, sewing it again, pricking my fingers a hundred times, crying, sweating, bleeding into a project and finally seeing the results of my labor. Satisfaction, indeed.

I thought about putting together a scrapbook of my works - even bought a notebook for it - but I really hate scrapbooking. Instead I have created a blog to showcase my work. A purely narcissistic venture. Not only will I have a journal of my projects (what it is, when I made it, who it was for), but you can see what I do when Mr. Wright is nose deep in homework. A girl has got to keep busy.

First you'll see projects that you have probably seen before. I have a few others that I need to put up, and even projects that I have not yet taken pictures of. Including the quilt I made last December/January. How's that for procrastination?

Click Here

An Ode to Broccoli

2009-08-14T08:46:00.000-07:00

When I saw the purple broccoli at the Farmer's Market, I knew what to do. Two heads made it snuggly into my bag.

Mr. Wright isn't especially fond of broccoli - smells like I'm cooking dirty gym socks for dinner, he says. But don't you know, says I, these dirty gym socks are practically a perfect vegetable? Chock full of vitamins and minerals and goodness for your body.

Try as I might, using logic and sneaking in broccoli when he isn't looking, I just can't get him to like it. Oh, he is a good husband and eats it when I make it, but I am acutely aware that if I tried to make it often he'd start a coup.

Oh broccoli - you who fill me to overflowing with vitamin C and K. You offer me your folate and B6, thiamin and niacin, calcium and iron, potassium and manganese, and little bits of A and E. When the mister is away, how can I resist? For dinner, it's just you and me.

One of the great injustices to vegetables is how we buy and prepare it. Many people only buy frozen vegetables for the convenience. While I agree it is convenient, it is entirely unappetizing. Usually the vegetables are cooked before they are frozen, so the vegetables merely need to be reheated to serve, but it is almost impossible to reheat them without cooking them to oblivion.

I cannot stomach frozen broccoli. I'm sorry if fresh costs more (I don't know - I never buy frozen), but try to work it into your budget. You can still ruin fresh broccoli by overcooking it, but give this a try:

Saute over medium heat some chopped garlic and red pepper flakes in a little olive oil until you start to smell their deliciousness. Add your chopped broccoli florets and peeled stems and saute for about five minutes, or until they reach the tenderness that you so desire.

Bob's your uncle, alright. And, yes, use the stems. Peel off the tough outer skin and inside is glory. If you do happen to find the especially tender purple broccoli at your farmer's market, use the leaves too. Sadly, the purple broccoli loses it's lavender hue while cooking, but you will enjoy it nonetheless. Bon appetit.

Manifesto

2009-07-15T07:07:00.000-07:00

Okay, I admit it. Sometimes I have to choke down some pride when I'm at the grocery store and compare my basket to others. Mine is full of fruits, vegetables, whole grains, fresh meat and cheese. Theirs only canned vegetables, Stouffers Lasagna, boxed prepared rice dishes, and microwave meals.

I know, it's wrong, I'm confessing, forgive me.

I have strong feelings about food. I like food. I like sugar and salt and fat and dairy and meat and fruit and veggies and grains. I like it all. I like different flavors and textures and smells and sounds. Food is intoxicating.

I have strong feelings about food. I don't like to deprive myself of things that I like. I don't like hearing about diets that involve only eating a particular food group. I don't like it when I don't know what is in the food that I'm eating. I don't like it when the ingredient list looks like it was created in a lab.

I have strong feelings about food. Food should be real, not processed. Food should be historical, not futuristic (what exactly is in a Gogurt? And why is it shelf stable?). Food should be easy, not hard. Food should be easy on your wallet, not break the bank. Food matters.

I believe that healthy food is real food. I believe that processed food is the reason we are the fattest country in the world. I believe that convenience and fast food has made us forget how to cook. I believe that healthy food is inexpensive food. I believe that anyone can cook a healthy meal. I believe the reason we don’t like vegetables very much is because we don’t know how to cook them well.

And that is why, in a few months, I will launch a blog about my journey with food.

I’m not a nutritionist. I’m not a trained chef. Don’t call me a foodie. I just get sad when I hear my friends say they don’t cook. I get sad when I see my friends eating zero vegetables. I get sad when my friends think they have to spend a lot of money to make a good meal. So I want to share what I have learned in my years of cooking. From basic cooking techniques to menu planning to nutrition to recipes to budgeting.

Why should you read my food blog as opposed to the hundreds of other food blogs out there? Because you like me. Stay tuned…

Learning to be realistic - or - Learning to be poor

2009-06-03T08:53:00.000-07:00

Looking for houses isn't that much fun. It's time consuming, exhausting, and depressing. Depressing because I have to recognize that we aren't going to buy my dream home. We can't afford it. We will probably never be able to afford it.

We really aren't making this easy on ourselves, anyway. We want to live in an older area of town. This area has cute little bungalows and cape cods, sidewalks, old trees, everything that is homey and inviting. An unfortunate thing about the area is that not very many people want to leave. There aren't many homes for sale there. Of the homes that are for sale, either they have been renovated and cost way too much, or they have not been renovated, but are livable, and still cost too much, or they have not been renovated, have cats and rats living in them, and are in our price range. I really don't want to live with cats and rats. Here's a little sampling of the homes for sale:

The house on the left costs about $400,000. The house on the right costs $214,000. The house on the left is lovely and nice and renovated. The house on the right has rats and mold. The house on the right is assessed at $300,000, though. Someone with an extra $50,000 is going to make a killing on that house someday, but that someone is not us.

The house on the left costs $320,000. The house on the right costs $250,000. The house on the left is cozy and clean. The house on the right has cat poo on the floor. Seriously, we walk in to look at the house and it smelled so rank. The house on the left has a two car garage. The house on the right is tiny and has bedrooms that we couldn't fit our bed in.

The house on the left costs $439,000. The house on the right costs $165,000. I love the house on the left. I do not love the house on the right. You cannot find pictures of the inside of the house on the right, and the listing says "needs tlc." Probably also has rats and cats and mold.

The house on the left costs $350,000. The house on the right costs around $250,000. The house on the left is adorable. The house on the right is not so adorable. But I'll tell you the truth: we might put an offer in on it.

Yikes! A 1977 split level??? I would never in my wildest dreams thought that one day I might buy a house like that. I know it's not the loveliest house, but it is in really good condition, which I can't say about the other houses in our price range. It has a really big yard. It has a really big garage for Mr. Wright to do all his manly man things in. It doesn't have a lot of rooms, but every room is quite large. Quite. It is in entirely livable condition. We wouldn't have to do anything to move in. All the work that needs to be done is cosmetic.

The yard is overgrown, but we could rip out everything and plant grass seed in a day. I can paint all the dark molding and doors. Someday, new windows, but the current ones are completely serviceable. Someday, new bathrooms. We'll see how long I can tolerate dark brown tiles. Of course, we'll try to keep as much of the retro funk as we possibly can. You just have to get it right, like my sister-in-law did with her funky new table. Oh, and on the side of the house, we have those really cool tall, skinny windows with yellow wavy glass in them. Hot.

Right. We'll keep you posted.

Trip to Spokane part two - or - The time we almost spent the night in a hotel that charged by the hour

2009-05-23T16:39:00.000-07:00

Now that we have slowed down a bit, I'll tell the story of the time we almost spent the night in a hotel that charged by the hour. Now, I don't know that it did indeed charge by the hour, but I wouldn't be surprised if it did.

The story begins where many stories begin - making last minute plans. We went to Spokane for the wedding of Mr. and Mrs. Bradley Hixson. I've known Brad since we were 13. We were really excited to go on a road trip/mini-vacation. With both of us working full time, Andy going to school part time, me trying to be a good housewife with a job, trying to have a social life, and looking for a house, time together is scarce. Eleven hours in the car and three days away from normal life? Yes please!

Hotwire. As you probably know, you usually get the best deals on hotels when you book at the last minute. Which is why we waited to book a hotel until the day before we left. However, nobody told us that the wedding weekend was the same weekend as Gonzaga U's and Eastern Washington U's graduations. And it was the same weekend as Spokane's version of the Portland Rose Festival. So trying to book at the last minute turned out to not be such a good idea. All the regular places were booked solid and 2 star hotels were charging top dollar for their rooms. C'est la vie. We had no choice. We booked at the Rodeway Inn (comperable with La Quinta or Days Inn) in downtown Spokane. Okay, no?

We arrived at the Rodeway Inn at 8:30pm having not eaten anything since the Dairy Queen ice cream we had in The Dalles around 4:00pm. Allow me to paint the picture: exterior entrances. Fifteen homeless teenagers on the front step. Dirty lobby. One key. A fancy sports car pulls in and parks near our car. Astroturfed stairs up to the second level. Doors that appeared to have been kicked in at one point. A full sized bed (you know, that weird size between a twin and a queen). Stained sheets. Dirty bathroom. If I ever pictured a hotel where you would go to buy drugs or a prostitute, this was what I'd picture. Can I stop now?

I'm trying to be cool about it, but I'm screaming inside. I'm trying to be strong. We are working really hard at saving money because we are trying to buy a house. This hotel was the cheapest thing we could find. All the other hotels were booked. I'm hungy. Let's go get some food, Andy.

Good, sweet Andy. We get in the car and he tells me that before we go get some food we are going to drive around as long as it takes to find a new hotel. Thank you, Andy! And then I cried.

The first place we stopped at only had its most expensive rooms available. But the front desk lady had great compassion on us and offered to call some other hotels for us. Thank you, front desk lady! She found us a room that was a very reasonable price. Oh, thankfulness!

We rush back to the Rodeway (the fancy sports car was gone, by the way), run up the grass stairs, grab our things, run down to the lobby and turn in our key, and drive to our new place. It might as well have been Hotel Ritz. I have never loved a three star hotel more. The lovely miss Molly at the front desk couldn't have been more cheery and nice to us. Our room had an inside entrance. It was clean and nice. Horray and Huzzah!

We finally were able to get some half priced appetizers and margaritas at Applebees around 10:00pm. Back at the hotel around 11:00pm we easily fell off to dreamland in our snuggly, clean, stain-free bed.

And that is the story of the time we almost spent the night in a hotel that charged by the hour. Sleep tight, everyone.

lessons learned on a trip to spokane

2009-05-15T18:03:00.000-07:00

Spokane is really far away.
You have to travel through Ethiopia and Tokyo to get to Spokane. By the way, Ethiopia and Tokyo don’t look anything like you’ve imagined.
The land between the tri-cities and Spokane is a forsaken and desolate place.
Depravation from visual stimulus makes you really happy to see anything – like a rock.
Spokane has lots of rocks.
Check the Spokane social calendar before you go. Otherwise you will find yourself there the same weekend as two university graduations and the Junior Lilac Festival.
The only place worth living in Spokane is on the south hill. Anywhere else and you will find yourself in Spocompton.
Be sure to fill your pockets with quarters before you go downtown, because that is the only way you can pay for parking. Or use a check in a parking garage. (Come on! Who carries coins and a checkbook with them these days??)
Don’t trust Hotwire. Or the Roadway Inn. You might end up booked at a place that probably charges by the hour.
Molly at the Madison Inn (where we stayed instead) is the best person in the world.
The roads in Spokane suck.

We got to see the house my dad grew up in! See bottom left picture.

2009-04-24T17:30:00.000-07:00

I need Yellow

2009-04-08T08:45:00.001-07:00

A little Madness in the Spring
Is wholesome even for the King,
But God be with the Clown --
Who ponders this tremendous scene --
This whole Experiment of Green --
As if it were his own!

Emily Dickinson

To keep or not to keep. That is the question.

2009-04-01T11:19:00.000-07:00

About a month ago I had a drastic cut done. Heavy bangs. Not as heavy as the bangs I had when I was eight years old that started halfway back of my head (I looked pretty cool with a side ponytail). These are the heaviest bangs I had since then. I feel kind of "hip" and "with it." Now, after four and a half weeks, I either need to continue to let them grow out, or get them trimmed.

These two pictures represent a two week time span. Ignore the fingers, but notice the difference in length. It's time to make a decision...

Oh, and in case you were wondering, yes, I have enjoyed going to so many Blazer games this season. Four! We do sit in the nosebleeds, but how can you complain about $10 tickets?

Is... Is he dead?

2009-03-20T16:28:00.000-07:00

I confess that Mark Twain isn't an author that I know much about. To continue the confession, I'm not sure I've ever actually read Huckleberry Finn. (gasp!) I know the story though, so I must have seen the movie. So I didn't know what to expect when my sister-in-law gave me "The Innocents Abroad" by Mark Twain.

The first time I opened it I was having lunch, by myself, at the Thai Terrace. Mind you, by myself. And, you see, I have that disease where you can't keep the giggles in. I think it's hereditary - my brothers and I would become hysterical reading the Sunday comics - by ourselves. So you can imagine my dilemma when I wanted to burst out laughing while I was reading it during my lunch. I had no friend to laugh with. And when you laugh by yourself, people think you're crazy. At least the owner knows me... "Pad Thai with Tofu?"

Anyway. So there I am, reading my book, laughing out loud, and not caring about the stares. I'm not sure how to describe the book. It's non-fiction. Mr. Twain joins a group going on a tour of Europe and the Holy lands. They board the steam wheeler Quaker City and cross the Atlantic. Mark journals every ridiculous moment.

He jokes about the barbers in France that take your skin off with the hair. The French tour guides that press you to buy anything so they can get their commission from the vendor. The Italian tour guides - they take you every where to see this or that artifact, painted/sculpted/created by so-and-so two hundred years ago, the nails that fixed Jesus to the cross (which they'd already seen seven other places)... and so they would allow the guide to go on and on until they could finally ask the only important question: "Is... Is he dead?" I know, it's not funny when I say it, but it's funny in the book. Like superior Americans, they truly tortured the natives.

The chapter I just read told about when they stole ashore when their ship was quarantined at Greece and not allowed to dock. The punishment for leaving a quarantined boat - 6 months. Luckily, they got ashore, saw all the sights under a moonlit sky, and got back to the boat without getting caught.

I'm halfway through. My other book is an old friend - "That Hideous Strength." I do tend to read one new book and one old book at the same time. The new for when I need something different and exciting, and the old one when I want something familiar and trustworthy. It's kind of like the new book is my mocha almond fudge and the old one is my favorite vanilla.

Is it Spring yet?

2009-02-25T08:28:00.001-08:00

Because I have an overwhelming urge to scrub our apartment from top to bottom! Get behind me grime!

But the thing is, no matter how often or how hard I scrub I cannot get rid of the soap scum in the tub and the ring in the toilet. Nothing makes me feel grimier than those things! Anybody have any tricks?

My new favorite spice

2009-01-28T08:55:00.001-08:00

Cardamom

These little mamas have such a unique flavor! I think that the first time I was introduced to them in their original form was when an Indian couple at our church invited us over for dinner. The after dinner drink to help digestion was a kind of chai tea (though with a few non-traditional additions I think - Mocha Mix??). She smashed these pods and put them in the pot with the steeping tea. Delicious!

I've since been trying to find uses for this Queen of Spices. I've made a basmati rice with it. Last night I made Finnish Cardamom Coffee Bread. It is delectably sweet and spicy. I can't wait to find more recipes...

To catch up... once again

2008-12-28T17:28:00.000-08:00

Well, I never said I would be very good at this whole blogging thing! You may be assured that I have pangs of guilt all the time because I don't keep up with this as I would like. I had in mind to keep you all interested with several posts over a few days, but alas, too many thing have piled up, and I would like to start afresh. So here you are - a dump post.

To begin, some sewing projects...

These sunshiny pillows brought much cheer to my dark davenport this summer. They have gone in the closet for the winter, replaced by the green silk pillows I made in the spring and a white flower pillow I made around Thanksgiving. I need to take a picture of it during the day when I can get some good light.

An apron. Not much else to be said for it. It performs its duties marvelously.

On to a more recent non-sewing project...

Homemade Peppermint Marshmallows. Mmmm. Surprisingly, deliciously easy to make. They have capped many a hot chocolate of my own and I hope they meet the same fate at my friends and coworkers homes.

And most, most recently...

Snow.

And birds.

More snow.

And even more snow.

I don't think we got quite over a foot of settled snow, though I'm sure much more than that fell. It was glorious and beautiful while it lasted, but I am not sorry to see it go. We just don't know how to manage snow here in the valley.

I am not ashamed to say that I am the woman who cannot drive in the snow, even though our trusty Subaru does fine. Not to say that I am dangerous or got in an accident or anything, it's just more stress than I like to feel. My good husband was happy to chauffeur me around instead.

Currently, I am working on a quilt. Yes, a quilt! Well, it's not exactly a quilt, it's more of a duvet cover, but it is pieced together like a quilt. Hopefully, that project will be finished soon and will cover the pages of my blog.

Now to read some more pages of my books. Sometimes I overwhelm myself with my to dos. But I love to be busy. I cannot bear to be idle. So boring and tedious...

Wives and Daughters

2008-12-06T16:42:00.000-08:00

Can I just say that I loved this book? So good. And it's really sad when you get to the end, because the author died before finishing it, so it ends very abruptly. It's a pretty hefty book, but I got through it pretty quick - a lot faster than War and Peace, anyway (which was also very good). I just need to see the movie now...

2008-11-24T09:54:00.000-08:00

Wow, my 'I'll post tomorrow' turned into two months. With Andy in school computer time is at a minimum, and my new sewing hobby keeps me busy in between working, cooking, and cleaning. Well. What can I say? Here is something to keep you satiated until I find more time...

Hot.

Aye me...

2008-09-16T19:23:00.000-07:00

I am pining for fall. Which is very different than how I felt last year, but this year my heart rejoices in the change of season.

Brisk mornings and blustery days.

Apple cider and autumn leaves.

Harvest moons and honey spice cookies.

Football and Fondue.

Pumpkins and pies.

Sweaters and stew.

Comforting books and cozy quits.

And then… Christmas!

Sewing Project #1

2008-09-09T20:33:00.000-07:00

Yup. Those are skull and crossbones.

And that's one crazy monkey!

For a most dear friend whose belly is much larger than you see in this pic. :)

Good Grief

2008-09-04T10:51:00.000-07:00

“Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers.” Eph 4:29

Friends, I am grieved indeed. Of late I have come in contact with many women who cannot come up with a nice thing to say about their husbands. I know their husbands – they are not bad men. I could very easily come up with something nice to say about them. What has happened to us (Christian ladies, even) that all we have to say are complaints? There is a serious issue going on.

What could the issue be? I have a few (not all) options:

Peer pressure. Everyone else is husband bashing, I guess I will too.
Selfishness. I am the center of my universe. People are put in my life to meet my needs, but my husband did something I didn’t like.
Stupidity. I am too stupid to notice the positives of my husband. (Although, this is mighty close to selfishness.)
The Husband. My husband truly is bad. (Though that’s not what I’m talking about. Perhaps in this case professional help should be sought.)

In a previous post I talked about how I have recently come to a conclusion: that I honor God by acting in obedience to his commands regarding relationships no matter how the other person acts. As I read that sentence now and consider this topic, I assure you that I did not come to that conclusion as a way to comfort myself because my husband behaves badly to me. Quite the contrary. Today is our four year wedding anniversary (woohoo!), and I couldn’t be more pleased with the dude that God gave me. I don’t deserve him. With that out of the way, let’s get on with it.

I’m going to rule out option number 4 for the moment. Any bashing there is probably a cry for help, and the onus then lies on the hearer to have discernment. And option 1 is a copout. Be your own woman – if you know you shouldn’t be talking like that, stop. If you can’t be woman enough to stop, you can hang out with the ladies in category number 3. 2 Timothy 3 has some choice words about weak minded women. I think the biggest problems are option 2 and 3.

We all know it's wrong for other people to be selfish, but usually when it comes to ourselves we insist that we are not selfish, that we have truly been wronged. Maybe we have, but the central issue is that we need to get out of our heads that the world is about us.

I’m afraid people will misunderstand me. Do not hear me say that you should let your husband walk all over you. Do not hear me say that it’s okay if your husband treats you badly, just deal. What I am saying is consider yourself and your behavior. Remember, we should act in obedience to God regardless? Consider these verses:

“In like manner, you married women, be submissive to your own husbands [subordinate yourselves as being secondary to and dependent on them, and adapt yourselves to them], so that even if any do not obey the Word [of God], they may be won over not by discussion but by the [godly] lives of their wives, when they observe the pure and modest way in which you conduct yourselves, together with your reverence [for your husband; you are to feel for him all that reverence includes: to respect, defer to, revere him--to honor, esteem, appreciate, prize, and, in the human sense, to adore him, that is, to admire, praise, be devoted to, deeply love, and enjoy your husband].” 1 Peter 3:1-2 (Amplified version)

“Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.” Philippians 2:3

As for the first, I am aware that it is referring to non-Christian husbands, but I think the charge is applicable to even those of us with believing husbands, because the focus is on how YOU act, not how HE acts. Plus, I contend that if you treat your husband like the verse says he will even treat you better, if he indeed treated you so badly before, or at least you will start to notice how nice he always has been (God just might release you from your stupidity).

And as for the second, it pretty much speaks for itself.

Have you ever read the book Love and Respect ? Me neither, but I hear it’s a good one. I think the gist of it is that a wife’s greatest need is to feel loved and a husband’s greatest need is to feel respected. Your biting words cut him deep and show him that you don’t respect him. And don’t tell me that he doesn’t make you feel loved so it’s okay for you to be disrespectful. We’ve been over that!

“Heather, you are so wise,” you say. “You must have the best marriage. I’m sure you have never had to try at any of this.” No, friends, I speak from experience. I have anyways worked hard not to be a husband basher to others, but I have made myself miserable by thinking husband bashing thoughts. So, if I can offer any word of advice on this my fourth anniversary, just don’t go there. Enjoy your husband and relish in the gift that God gave you.

So let’s not ever again hear each other say “I’ve trained my husband not to do this…”, “Guess what terrible thing my husband did the other day…”, “I wish my husband would…”, “If only my husband were like…”. Let us instead glorify God by our love for them.

And a great end to a great birthday...

2008-08-28T21:40:00.000-07:00

A picnic dinner at the park listening to the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra, a heartfelt card, studying the Word with dear friends, and root beer floats.

Bliss.

2008-08-28T08:26:00.000-07:00

The great start to a great birthday...

Mmmm... Have I ever told you how much I love food? Just the smell of browned butter was enough to send me dancing around the kitchen the other night.

I have stale challah. And when life gives you stale challah, you make french toast!

Eggs, cream, cinnamon, nutmeg, a pinch of clove, stale challah, and marionberry syrup courtesy of my muh-ma-in-law. Today is a good day.

2008-08-19T15:36:00.000-07:00

(We bought a tiny TV for $2 at a youth fund raising auction)

Andy: I got the TV set up in the garage so that the next time you change the oil in the car you can watch it.
Heather: That sentence went very wrong when you said 'the next time you change the oil in the car.' That's what I married you for - to change the oil in my car.
Andy: Well, at least I got a dishwasher out of the deal.

OOHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

I know what you're thinking - finally, something new!

2008-08-12T20:54:00.000-07:00

The reason for the long absence is partly because we were here:

The Eagle Cap Wilderness in the Wallowa Mountain range in Eastern Oregon. Yeah.

Right then. Andy and I like to backpack when we can. We'd love to do it more than we can. Problems include time constraints, pets, plants, and generally that we are in pretty sorry physical shape. But after a week with Andy's family in Redmond we drove the rest of the way over to the Wallowas since we were a third of the way there. The plan was to hike 7.5 miles on Saturday and camp at a lake. Day two was a 3 mile hike over a pass (translation: 3 miles of climbing around 1000 feet of elevation only to go back down it again) to camp at another lake. Day three, Monday, was another 7.5 miles to finish the loop back to the trailhead.

A little bit of info on the hike. You start at the trailhead at around 5,500 of elevation and the lake we were headed to was around 7,500 feet. To put that in perspective, Timberline Lodge is at 6,000 feet. We were hiking higher than we had ever hiked before. If getting used to the thin air wasn't enough, the first two miles of the hike was climbing about 1,500 feet over granite boulders. It was a really rocky trail. By the time we had gone about three miles we were spent.

One thing that is great about going backpacking is being able to get rid of all the distractions of life. The husband and I are able to have really great talks - the wilderness brings a lot of clarity. After sitting around the campfire for a couple of hours, we realized just how homesick we were. After the grueling hike it didn't take a lot of convincing to decide to cut it short and hike out the next day. But not before we saw some great sights - we continued up the trail a few more miles on Sunday to get some of these pictures.

The campsite - I'm washing dishes

If you look close you can see me in the red still washing

Pictures never do justice

This valley was amazing. The mountain range comes down to you on both sides and to the south funnels into the view of Eagle Cap. This river comes flowing down the middle and truly looks fake or manmade even in real life; the way the grass comes down to meet the water and then the rock goes straight down the sides. You can sort of see how the bottom of the river was probably ten feet down and slated granite.

The other direction

This picture is a pretty decent representation of most of the hike. It was really wierd - with all the granite coming out of the earth, you felt like you were walking around in some ancient ruins and any minute you were going to turn a corner and see a giant head carved in a rock. The jagged granite mountains were amazing.

In short, if you ever get a chance to go to the wallowas, do it. Just try to be in better shape than we are.

I've got some other stuff to show you soon - as soon as I have time! :)

2008-07-21T11:43:00.000-07:00

I'm really not very good at this blog thing...

Well, July 5th we got to babysit these two cuties nearly all day.

This picture is a pretty good representation of the entire day. Little angels. Not that the littlest one could be any trouble at all - we just fed her, changed her, napped her, talked to her, and watched her roll around and giggle. The big one kept us busy playing and reading all day.

Ava is a little camera shy. She will clam up if you make a big deal about taking a picture. That's why it's a little blurry. I had to sneak it in!

These girls love each other a bunch. Nothing makes Eden smile more than when her big sister is paying attention to her - which is often! Whenever we put Eden on the floor, Ava would go lie down beside her and kiss Eden's hands, put them on her face, giggle the whole time, and say in a high voice "aww, baby sister!"

We brought Ava a couple of new books and we must have read them ten times each. But, Ava's favorite part of the day was a game called thowing-stuffed-animals-at-uncle-andy. He started it. And she thought it was the funniest thing ever. She'd run over and toss the animals at Uncle Andy and then run the other direction screaming and laughing. We played that game for nearly an hour. And it was funny the whole time.

Oh, how I love my nieces.

2008-07-02T13:35:00.000-07:00

Aren't you glad that God never stops teaches us new things? That he continually is working to change us, conform us, complete us?

God is teaching me lately that how I treat others is a matter of obedience to him. Whether it be my husband, my family, my friends, my neighbors, or stangers, God had told us specificly how to treat each other. It doesn't matter how those people treat me - there are no excuses for treating others badly.

The passages that most strike me are Romans 12 and Ephesians 5:33. Romans 12 speaks to a lot of things, but all are to-the-point commands. I love the Amplified Bible's version of Ephesians 5:33: "However, let each man of you [without exception] love his wife as [being in a sense] his very own self; and let the wife see that she respects and reverences her husband [that she notices him, regards him, honors him, prefers him, venerates, and esteems him; and that she defers to him, praises him, and loves and admires him exceedingly]." Look at all those other translations! That certainly makes things very clear. Thankfully, I am blessed with the most wonderful of husbands, so to do all that would be a joy!

Anyway, I suppose all this comes out of last week's Vacation Bible School. Andy and I had a rough week. We had to send a kid out of class for the first time ever. We know the kid - he's been coming to our church for about a year. I think it was more traumatizing for us than it was for him. He told us he gets sent out of class at school all the time. But as traumatizing as it was, I recognized a small amount of satisfaction in my heart as we sent him away. Immediately the double-edged sword pierced the part of my heart that felt the satisfaction. The Spirit spoke to me: "See him how I see him." Oh, how ashamed I was! I should send myself out of class!

How precious we all are in the sight of God and how I ignored it. All this does not make what the kid did okay; I'm talking about my own heart in the matter. Again, regardless of how other people act, God has told me to act in a certain way. By not acting that way, I act in disobedience to His word to me. Loving others is a matter of obedience. And since others are hard to love, I must start by putting on God's eyeglasses so that I can correct my vision.

What is God teaching you lately?

When is Summer going to come?

2008-06-07T13:15:00.000-07:00

Before I get into the good stuff, I just want to take a moment to complain. I hate this weather. Actually, I don't really hate the weather, I hate that it's June and this is the kind of weather we are having. Don't get me wrong, I love the beautiful Northwest, and it wouldn't be so beautiful if we didn't get so much rain. But, come on! How about a little warmth and sunshine??? I want to move....

On another note, I'll show you (my one and a half readers out there) what I have been doing:

Watching Plants Grow

Heliotropium

Asiatic Lily

Foxgloves

I love their freckles

Peas

Blackcapped Chickadee
Our little Chickadeelings have hatched. We only hear them squeaking when mom and dad come back with some food.

As a continuation of "things on the deck"...

Little brother came to visit after his second day at his big boy job. I couldn't resist a picture with the handsome man in a tie.

And one with the momma. Isn't she beautiful? I love my momma

And next we have...

Sewing!

Yes, I am finally sewing. It took me a while to get started, but now that I have I don't know if I can stop! I made...

Pillows. Yup, that's dupoini silk.

And a gift for a friend. You know who you are.

But I feel like I have to explain it to everyone - the blocks are supposed to be crooked! It was part of the pattern! I wish it wasn't, because it looks kind of ghetto. Sorry for the ghetto pot holder, Stef!

More fabric for more projects.

I love living near Fabric Depot. If you don't know what it is, it's like the Costco of fabrics. And this morning, 40% off all fabrics! Yes! So I decided that since the sun won't shine I can at least have some inside my house. I'm making new pillows - I do like the green silk ones I made, but I need some more color. I'm making an apron with the two fabrics on the left (like KeriAnns), the next two are for pillows, and I haven't quite decided with the others.

Sewing is hard for me - I'm too much of a perfectionist. That's probably why I have such a hard time with the crooked blocks on the pot holder. At the same time, I'm kind of lazy and want to cut corners. But I feel like I'm addicted! Must. Make. More. Stuff!

Garden Update

2008-05-20T21:51:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday was Andy's 25th birthday. We celebrated it and the warm sunshine by getting up early and going to the nursery. We bought more flowers and some peppers. In the third from the top, third from the left, picture you'll see Ms. Serrano and Mr. Banana Pepper. You can see that the peas have gotten huge and the carrots have sprouted. My tomato has also grown a lot. And I got sunburned on my shoulders.

This is only my second garden so I have a lot to learn - like don't put a whole packet of carrot seeds into two short rows. The basil is recovering from the hail storms we had a few weeks ago. If I had really been thinking about it I would have brought them in those days. As it was, the hail came suddenly and I was at work.

Protecting the plants is Sir Dragoonfly. He keeps a good eye on everyone.

The Stache

2008-05-20T21:32:00.001-07:00

Now, don't get too excited, friends. He is still my husband.

Andy has had a goatee for over a year - the winter before last he kept a full beard. This morning while we were getting ready for work I hear an "uh-oh" come from the bathroom where I know Andy was trimming and shaving. The "uh-oh" was because he had accidentally taken a huge chunk out of his goatee. Irreparable. There was nothing left to do but shave it off and take a picture with only a mustache.

Now that is a dirty stache.

Of course, he shaved off the stache after we took the picture. The stache doesn't come around very often so you have to document.

For now I just have to take a good look to figure out if that clean shaven man is my husband. I'll look forward to when the goatee is back. It won't be long... Andy says his beard grows faster in the Spring.

What torture!

2008-05-15T08:42:00.000-07:00

How I wish I could just be outside digging in the dirt, feeling the warmth of the sun, and letting the sun bake my skin! There is a perfectly flat hedge outside my window – I’m imagining that we’re having a dinner party outside with it as our table...

Soup

2008-05-14T19:21:00.001-07:00

Beethoven said that only the pure in heart can make good soup. I can't take credit for any purity of heart in relation to the above tomato soup - that belongs to Amy's Organics - but I'd like to say that the addition of tortellini smiles and sourdough ears are much to recommend me.

Now this one I can claim. Chicken Noodle. I'll call it Dr. H's Magical Feel Better Potion.

Why so much soup, you ask? We have been very ill. You know those little tubs of "cheese" with the blue lid? Delicious on crackers? Right. I don't think we will have any more of that any time soon. I should have known better... is it even cheese? Maybe it's like hot dogs - you just don't want to know.

So. Nothing like soup to put us on the mend. That must be why Beethoven said it - I can't think of an impure person being able to make something that has such magical healing powers.

Happy National High Five Day!

2008-04-17T10:02:00.001-07:00

Google Analytics

2008-04-17T09:51:00.000-07:00

I have Google Analytics on my blog. I also have it on the company website that I manage. It's fun to check the analytics on my blog and see where in the world people are looking at my blog (New Zealand, this week). For my company website it's a good way to track if the promo I do is directing traffic to the website. But what I find the most interesting is looking at what people are searching for when they stumble on the site.

For my work site, it's the usual things - "baptist foundation" "gift annuities" etc. What a shock when I saw MY name being searched for! "heather wright public relations" and "heather wright portland oregon." It's kind of creepy that some one put in your name into a search engine. They must not have been looking for me, though, because they left the site almost immediately.

For my blog only two searches have led people to my site. The first is "the history of emo" which sadly only led them to a post that talked about War and Peace and Leo Tolstoy. Recently I got my second search - "does god want me to quit my job?" OH!

Of course, I don't know who searched that and came to my site, but they left almost immediately too. But this question says something very sad about the state of our country (or New Zealand). Why would someone type those words into the internet? I'll be the first to say that God does speak through some interesting avenues, but I don't think that I would expect to find an answer by Googling my request.

I can sense desparation in that question thrown into cyberspace. "does god want me to quit my job?" It makes me think about my own life as a child of God and of the church as a whole - what are we (am I) doing or not doing that would cause people to search the internet for the answers to life's questions? Oh, God, why are we not the place for answers?

Feels so good to have green things...

2008-04-13T14:27:00.001-07:00

We went to the garden store yesterday and got some living things. Andy built me the cedar boxes that I didn't give you a good view of - maybe next time. It's so exciting to have plants! One box is still waiting to get some pepper starts, but here is what we have so far...

Lavender. This one will be white.

Twin Sweet Italian Basil

French Peppermint

Lemon Thyme

Oregon Spring Tomato

Shell Peas in the back and Little Finger Carrots in the front.

Tuscan Blue Rosemary

African Daisies

Purple Bicolor and Golden Yellow

Gary.

New Hobby -or- Wasting Time

2008-04-04T09:47:00.000-07:00

Ahh, cable. How you delight us with worthless things to watch. How you bring us blinking images that entice us for hours. Oh the glory of your shows that leave us thinking, "Why did we waste three hours watching this?"

Andy and I probably watch more TV than we should. It's so easy to come home after a long day of work, eat dinner, clean up, and then cuddle on the davenport and turn on the TV. We try to keep it educational, of course. Our favorites are the discovery channels, history channels, OPB, the food network (for me), sports (for Andy). But sometimes there just isn't anything enticing on those channels, though. In looking for substitutes, we have resorted to the worst sort of entertainment: really, really, really bad movies.

It kind of happened by accident. On a rainy, lazy, Saturday afternoon we found ourselves watching a really bad sci-fi. I mean, it was really bad. Bad graphics, bad dialogue, bad plot. I can't remember what it was called... In fact, I can't remember the names of much of the bad movies we've watched. I think I may be blocking them out of my mind. But, most recently, the bad movie of the night was......

Young Guns II

'80s. Western. Bon Jovi soundtrack. Emelio Estevez. Christian Slater. What else needs to be said?

Wait a second... what day is it?

2008-03-28T08:37:00.000-07:00

It's March 28th, 2008. And it's snowing outside. Not in any sort of way that will stay, but it is snowing nonetheless. Big, wet, mushy flakes. If this isn't northwest weather, I don't know what is. Yesterday morning began with rain, then turned to a mix (or as one local weatherman puts it, "chunky rain."). At lunch time we had hail before the temperature got up to 50 degrees. And today - raining when I got up, now been snowing for two hours.

It's snowing outside and all I can think about are plants... I can't wait until Andy finishes the planter boxes and I can fill them with veggies and herbs...

Today...

2008-03-21T14:34:00.000-07:00

Waiting for the Hot Cross Buns to rise...

...spying on birds...

...sipping a cup inspired by Earl Charles Gray...

... and listening to Frank S., Nat C., and Louie A.

Ava and Eden

2008-03-17T08:43:00.000-07:00

January, February, March, oh my!

2008-03-13T20:09:00.000-07:00

Can it really be two and half months since I have posted on my blog? What in world have I been doing for two months??

Two highlights…

A chalet at Timberline Lodge

A surprise from my hubby. After the horrible fall semester we finally had a few breaths to share. We snowboarded. Well, Andy snowboarded, I fell down the hill a lot. Andy is practically a pro at snowboarding, as he is at most things. (Have I told you about when I put a yo-yo in his stocking as a silly, joke toy? He tears off the wrapper and starting swinging it all over the place! Unbeknownst to me, Andy is a pro yo-yoer. I shouldn’t have been so surprised.) AND, let me tell you about the food! We stuffed ourselves on Friday night. This restaurant treats you like royalty. I could bore you with all the details that excite no one but me, but just go there for dinner sometime. It won't disappoint.

A niece named Eden

My older brother and sister-in-law gave birth the Eden Mary Johnson on February 19^th. Eden’s big sister, Ava Lee, couldn’t be more thrilled. Adjustments to come though… being a big sister has a lot of responsibilities.

With spring comes a deck garden – I hope. Andy is going to build me planter boxes so I can grow veggies and herbs. It will be my second try. Last time I grew tomatoes, which I didn’t dead head enough, so I just got a few very small tomatoes, banana peppers, which the squirrels came and ate all the leaves, so the plant hardly grew, Serrano peppers, which were great, and basil, which I didn’t grow enough of. I’m not sure yet what I will grow this time…

Even with the anticipation of spring and summer, I just can’t seem to shake off the clouds which have been hanging around me since the fall. I’ve been desperately trying to not let my gloominess keep me from my time in God’s word, but I have found that even though I have kept the study it has become ritualistic and joyless. I’m not hearing God. I’m not responding to Him. The hardest part of it is that even though I can say these things I don’t know what to do about it. I think the hardest thing in my relationship with God is in knowing what his will is for my life. What am I supposed to do, God? is my cry. And either I’m not listening or God isn’t telling me yet.

I’m finding myself increasingly dissatisfied with my life – my job, my ministry, myself. I’m at a point where my instinct is to leave everything that I have been doing and start fresh. I want to quit my job and get a new one, quit our church and go somewhere else, reinvent myself and forget all my regrets. But, even though I usually only know God’s will in hindsight, I do know that this is not His will for me. I know that I’m supposed to be fine and happy with wherever God has me, but sometimes I wonder if God doesn’t place in us discontentment for the reason of moving us. Maybe God does want me to change my job or my church. Dissatisfaction can be a fine motivator sometimes.

Well, I don’t know how much longer I will be oppressed and afflicted, but I’m going to fight and try to keep going. And try to quiet myself and hear only God. Two things that stare at me from the edges of my computer screen each day:

If you scream for insight and call loudly for understanding, if you pursue it like you would money, and search it out as you would hidden treasure, than the Lord will be awesome to you, and you will come into possession of the knowledge of God. - Proverbs 2:3-5

-and-

29. Resolved: Never to count that a prayer, nor to let that pass as a prayer, nor that as a petition of prayer, which is so made, that I cannot hope that God will answer it; nor that as a confession, which I cannot hope God will accept. – Resolutions of Jonathan Edwards

I am desperate and needy. Heal me, Lord.

P.S. Rent the movie Hot Rod. Very funny, if you like that kind of thing.

Christmas with the Haneys - or - Christmas Reflections

2007-12-28T09:06:00.000-08:00

Grandma and the grandaughters, minus one. Adelina couldn't make it because of the weather.

As I watch Andy's grandparents deteriorate, two of my coworker's elderly parents give in to dementia, and my own dear grandmother turns 78 this year, I am reminded that every moment I have with her is a precious gift. I am thankful for her health - Andy's grandparents we not in as good health at her age. But the day will come, and may not be far off, where I will not be able to talk to her as I can now. Oh, may I never take her for granted.

My cousin Lauren, the taller one on my left, is ten years my junior. She and I have always been kindred spirts for some reason. She is fifteen now and a freshman in high school and is as tall as I am (gasp!). She is a real beauty, in face, spirit, and soul. She shared with me a book that she wrote about me when she was in sixth grade. She dedicated it to me, her best cousin and best friend (I didn't think I deserved such praise).

The story was of me at age ten. We had just moved to Oregon from Texas and were staying with my Uncle Steve and Aunt Amy, her parents (Auntie Amy was pregnant with Lauren at the time). They lived on a farm in Newberg (what a treat!). In the field were some unearthed rocks - big ones, small ones, all kinds. And I would play on the rocks. They were my own little world. Unlce Steve told Lauren about my adventures on the rocks.

I was a pirate searching for treasure.

I was a teacher, teaching my stuffed animals how to add as they sat at their rock desks.

I was stranded on a tropical island and played with crabs and sea turtles.

What fun! She was a bit embarrassed, as a freshman in high school, to show me something she did as a sixth grader. But I hope my tears of delight made her feel better! I told her that she cannot throw it away and if she ever even thinks about it that she has to give it to me. Such a sweet time. I wish we could see each other more often.

I wish!

2007-12-19T21:20:00.000-08:00

Our evening took us to World Market. After seeing a glass similar to this one it made me think of visiting Casablanca Morocco. After a long lament we climbed into the car.

(On the radio: Forever Young)

Andy: (Turns the volume up) Does this make you feel like you're in Morocco?
Heather: No.
Andy: Does it make you feel like you're in northern Idaho?
Heather: (amongst giggles) Yes.

(No Northern Idahoans were intentionally or unintentionally harmed in the writing of this quote.)

Crazy Christmas Sweater Party!

2007-12-19T21:16:00.001-08:00

Wouldn't you know, my camera batteries die after only taking a few pictures. Here are a couple of highlights until I get copies from my friends.

My own husband still looks dashing in his 80's sweater

My creation. I call it Royal Nautical Christmas Chic

Three wild and crazy gals!
(P.S. the guy in the back with the baseball hat - he's not wearing a shirt. His girlfriend painted it on.)

Catching up...

2007-12-19T21:03:00.000-08:00

For anyone who is interested and I haven't told already, we did find our lost car. We got a call a week ago at 9:20 in the evening that a police officer was waiting for us by our car. We showed up and it was all in pieces. Ugh, you feel so violated! What was your own was looked over completely by some dirty scoundrel. They were nice enough to air out the car for us - it was dropped off in a neighborhood and a family called it in because they thought it strange that a car would sit for four days with a window down. They took the stereo, the speakers, the floor mats, the rear view mirror, the visors, our ipod player, cds, and the exhaust pipe, they broke the ignition, wiper blades, dashboard, console, door panels, door handles, and window handles. The insurance has totaled the car (which was what we were hoping for) but now we are arguing the value of the car (which we were hoping not to have to do). So. My fantastic boss has loaned us a truck since the insurance took away our rental when they found the car. We are hoping to get the claim resolved soon so that we can get a new car. Woo hoo.

2007-12-12T08:50:00.000-08:00

O come, O come, Emmanuel

And ransom captive Israel

That mourns in lonely exile here

Until the Son of God appears

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free

Thine own from Satan's tyranny

From depths of Hell Thy people save

And give them victory o'er the grave

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer

Our spirits by Thine advent here

Disperse the gloomy clouds of night

And death's dark shadows put to flight.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Key of David, come,

And open wide our heavenly home;

Make safe the way that leads on high,

And close the path to misery.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, O come, Thou Lord of might,

Who to Thy tribes, on Sinai's height,

In ancient times did'st give the Law,

In cloud, and majesty and awe.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to thee, O Israel.

2007-12-11T21:44:00.001-08:00

Andy put Christmas lights on our porch.

And our first star has been upgraded. We used to paper clip this to the top of our tree (yes, those are pipe cleaners).

But now we have this. Much nicer. But we have such a fondness for our first star that it is now happily hanging from a branch.

You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch - or - How the Grinch Stole My Car

2007-12-10T11:20:00.000-08:00

Heather - "Oh joy! It's Saturday, we slept in until 10, the sun is shining, it's 11:30 and we are going to get a Christmas tree! Isn't it a great day, Andy?"
Andy - "Did you take the Nissan anywhere last night?"
Heather - "No."
Andy - "Well, someone else did. It's not where I parked it last night."

Yes. The Grinch stole our car.

We live in an apartment complex that we love. We have a one car garage that we park our brand new Subaru in (we are so blessed). We park our other car, a hot 1991 Nissan Sentra, in the lot with everyone else. Sometime Friday evening Mr. Grinch decided to take it. The tears I shed were only because I was afraid we wouldn't be able to get a Christmas tree.

We are so blessed. Let me count the ways:

There was nothing valuable in that car
The car had a garage door remote in it - they could have gotten a lot of things that are more valuable to us
It's only a car
We didn't like the car, anyway
We were thinking of replacing it in the next year
It had a few issues
God has blessed us so financially that buying another car won't be a big deal (well, as long as we can find one under a few thousand dollars)
Our insurance will cover it
Our job schedules are the same and are only a few miles apart, so trying to drive with one car takes only a little adjusting

Why someone wanted to steal a 91 Nissan Sentra with the paint falling off, I don't know. It was probably a drug addict wanting to sell the metal and parts. 91 Nissans aren't the hardest to steal, from what I hear. They sure aren't real classy cars.

All in all, we are overwhelmed with gratitude to our Lord. Everything we have belongs to Him anyway. We are merely caretakers of the things we have. I'm reminded of the parable of the rich young ruler who had done so well financially. He had stock piles of grain and wine and thought he would just relax and enjoy the ride. That night the Lord came to him and said his life was reqired of him that moment. What were all his posessions then? Nothing. God has already blessed us beyond our basic needs. We are not unhappy. We have every cause for cheer.

Our Christmas just got a lot humbler, too. Of course, I was used to that growing up. It wasn't until I got older that I realized just how poor we were. We always had a roof and clothes and food and heat, but not much more. A good Christmas was one where I got $15 worth of clothes for my barbies. But the Christmas that I look back on with the most fondness was when we were the poorest.

We couldn't afford a tree that year, so we put our lights around the fireplace mantle. We had these lights from Ciudad Juarez in Mexico that looked like flowers and got so hot you would burn your fingers if you touched them (this was Texas in the 80's okay? Nobody cared about fire hazards). I think from my parents I got one package of barbie clothes that probably only cost a couple of dollars. My brothers and I took our own toys that we knew the other liked and gave it to them. Such sacrifice for an eight year old. We drew "I love you" pictures and wrapped them up. And then began the longest tradition for my family - toilet paper. I think my younger brother wrapped it up for my older brother. And we laughed and laughed and laughed. It brings tears to my eyes even now.

That was my favorite Christmas. Obviously it had nothing to do with presents. We gave to each other gifts out of our own poverty and shared love and laughs. Love and laughter was never something that lacked in our family, but it was ever more precious on that day.

I digress... God is so good to us. Not only does he take care of our basic needs, he has taken care of our greatest need for a Savior. We are ever more grateful as we celebrate the birth of our Savior with less pomp and circumstance than usual. Oh, God is good! Mr. Grinch, you can steal our car but you can't steal our joy!

Happiness Is a Serious Problem

2007-12-03T14:30:00.000-08:00

"I once asked a deeply religious man if he considered himself a truly pious person. He responded that while he aspired to be one, he felt that he fell short in two areas. One of those areas, he said, was his not being a happy enough person to be considered truly pious.

His point was that unhappy religious people reflect poorly on their religion and on their Creator. He was right; in fact, unhappy religious people pose a real challenge to faith. If their faith is so impressive, why aren't these devoted adherents happy? There are only two possible reasons: either they are not practicing their faith correctly, or they are practicing their faith correctly and the religion itself is not conducive to happiness. Most outsiders assume the latter reason. Unhappy religious people should therefore think about how important being happy is—if not for themselves, then for the sake of their religion. Unhappy, let alone angry, religious people provide more persuasive arguments for atheism and secularism than do all the arguments of atheists."
Dennis Prager, talk show host, author, columnist , Happiness Is a Serious Problem (Regan Books, 1998), p.4

The answer: Living a life of gratitude and worship. The hear more, visit http://www.nbcvancouver.org/resources/ and listen to our pastor's sermon from December 2nd. I can't see that it is on there yet, but I'm sure it will be soon.

While waiting for the refridgerator repair man - or - I love being a part of a secret!

2007-11-26T16:19:00.000-08:00

I've never had a secret recipe before. My sweet mother-in-law has seen fit to give me hers since she doesn't have any daughters. It is the Riehl family Honey Spice cookie recipe. And it is sooooo good! Even more so with my slight adjustments. And, no, you may not have the recipe - it's a secret!
But here are the steps:

Step one:

Mix the ingredients.

Step two:
Place on the pan.

Step three:
Bake until golden delicious.

Step four:
Eat.

Smile with delight.

Cookies made even more delicious when baked wearing the retro sock monkey apron your sweet mother-in-law also made you.

And while drinking an iced cinnamon latte. It just sounded good, okay. I know it's 40 degrees outside, but I'm warm and cozy inside.

Darn...

2007-11-26T13:34:00.001-08:00

Thanksgiving day was enjoyed at Andy's grandparent's house. We gave the camera to Andy's dad who took a few pictures. Not many to choose from. Friday we had my parents, my younger brother and his girlfriend, and my grandma over to our apartment. Mom brought a 20 POUND TURKEY! Wow! It was delicious. We forgot to take any pictures though. So please enjoy a few highlights from Andy's grandparents.

Andy's youngest brother, Brian. He's 17. We don't look very happy with each other...

Andy's middle brother, Alex. He's 21. 22 in a few weeks. He wants to be a police officer.

Wordless Wednesday

2007-11-21T09:01:00.000-08:00

The History of Emo

2007-11-20T09:11:00.000-08:00

My husband and I teach the High School Sunday School class at our church. They recently explained to us (well, me. Andy probably already knew since he seems to know everything about everything.) what "emo" is. In my current read, "War and Peace" by Leo Tolstoy, I found some emos! I think... to be perfectly honest, I'm still a little confused about the whole thing. You can correct me if I'm wrong.

“And do you know the new way of courting?" said Pierre with an amused smile, evidently in that cheerful mood of good humored raillery for which he so often reproached himself in his diary.

"No," replied Princess Mary.

"To please Moscow girls nowadays one has to be melancholy. He is very melancholy with Mademoiselle Karagina," said Pierre.

…

That winter the Karagins' house was the most agreeable and hospitable in Moscow. In addition to the formal evening and dinner parties, a large company, chiefly of men, gathered there every day, supping at midnight and staying till three in the morning. Julie never missed a ball, a promenade, or a play. Her dresses were always of the latest fashion. But in spite of that she seemed to be disillusioned about everything and told everyone that she did not believe either in friendship or in love, or any of the joys of life, and expected peace only "yonder." She adopted the tone of one who has suffered a great disappointment, like a girl who has either lost the man she loved or been cruelly deceived by him. Though nothing of the kind had happened to her she was regarded in that light, and had even herself come to believe that she had suffered much in life. This melancholy, which did not prevent her amusing herself, did not hinder the young people who came to her house from passing the time pleasantly. Every visitor who came to the house paid his tribute to the melancholy mood of the hostess, and then amused himself with society gossip, dancing, intellectual games, and bouts rimes, which were in vogue at the Karagins'. Only a few of these young men, among them Boris, entered more deeply into Julie's melancholy, and with these she had prolonged conversations in private on the vanity of all worldly things, and to them she showed her albums filled with mournful sketches, maxims, and verses.

To Boris, Julie was particularly gracious: she regretted his early disillusionment with life, offered him such consolation of friendship as she who had herself suffered so much could render, and showed him her album. Boris sketched two trees in the album and wrote: "Rustic trees, your dark branches shed gloom and melancholy upon me."

On another page he drew a tomb, and wrote:

La mort est secourable et la mort est tranquille.
Ah! contre les douleurs il n'y a pas d'autre asile.

(Death gives relief and death is peaceful.
Ah! from suffering there is no other refuge.)

Julia said this was charming

"There is something so enchanting in the smile of melancholy," she said to Boris, repeating word for word a passage she had copied from a book. "It is a ray of light in the darkness, a shade between sadness and despair, showing the possibility of consolation."

In reply Boris wrote these lines:

Aliment de poison d'une ame trop sensible,
Toi, sans qui le bonheur me serait impossible,
Tendre melancholie, ah, viens me consoler,
Viens calmer les tourments de ma sombre retraite,
Et mele une douceur secrete
A ces pleurs que je sens couler.

(Poisonous nourishment of a too sensitive soul,
Thou, without whom happiness would for me be impossible,
Tender melancholy, ah, come to console me,
Come to calm the torments of my gloomy retreat,
And mingle a secret sweetness
With these tears that I feel to be flowing.)

For Boris, Julie played most doleful nocturnes on her harp. Boris read “Poor Liza” aloud to her, and more than once interrupted the reading because of the emotions that choked him. Meeting at large gatherings Julie and Boris looked on one another as the only souls who understood one another in a world of indifferent people.

Wedding

2007-11-11T17:26:00.001-08:00

The happy couple. Jason and Jessica Ellyson. (I sure wish I knew more about taking pictures. We have a really nice camera but my pictures never come out with the right color or flash or anything. If anyone has some tips, please, share.)

My own handsome husband was a groomsman.

Younger brother, Darren, makes me laugh.

Sarah is grinning and making eyes at my younger brother (also a groomsman). I don't mind. She'll make a good sister-in-law. Maybe next summer we will have the last wedding in the Johnson family. I'll finally have my two sisters to go with my two brothers. I am happy about that.

Some Pictures

2007-11-11T16:59:00.001-08:00

My favorite, the Mariners. Retro day.

Breakfast with a dear friend, Daylan. Strange... the long hair. I do miss it sometimes.

Roaring fire.

Everyone in our house enjoys a fire.

Morning snow. I am looking forward to a snow day.

Andy's momma just turned 50. She's sweet. She makes scarves, quilts, aprons, and all kinds of crafty things. I am not like that. I wish to be, but am not.

The "Stuff on My Cat" book on my cat.

My Mornings (mournings?)

2007-11-08T17:43:00.000-08:00

"It looked as though the sky were melting, and without the slightest wind, sinking down upon the earth. The only movement in the air was the soft downward motion of microscopic drops of moisture or mist. The bare twigs in the garden were hung with transparent drops which dripped on to the freshly fallen leaves. The earth in the kitchen-garden had a gleaming, wet, black look like the centre of a poppy, and at a short distance away it melted off into the damp, dim veil of fog."

War and Peace
Leo Tolstoy

October 31st

2007-11-01T10:31:00.000-07:00

490 years ago on October 31st Martin Luther nailed the 95 theses to the door of the church. So began the reformation. Thanks to this man there are churches besides Catholic churches, the Catholic church no longer sells indulgences, salvation, nor commits the many crimes they did before, and the Bible has been translated into over 2,300 languages.

Our church last night played Luther, a movie based on Martin's life.

I must say, I thoroughly enjoyed it. It is so nice to have Christian movies that are well done. Our local theologian, Dr. Dave, says that the movie is very accurate. We played it for just a small crowd (probably a lot of families were busy filling their pockets with sweets). I liked it much more than the 1960's version, but I know some people didn't much care for the language. There were a few "damn"s in there. It was the "proper" usage of the word - someone being damned. And I say that "ass" used to be a perfectly fine word to describe an animal.

I do have to giggle when words like that are used in church. I was brought up to never use those words. I feel that we should not fear certain words. Granted, some I would never use because I feel that they have no better meaning than another word used in its place, but I think there are times when there is only one word that accurately describes something. As in describing someone who is damned to hell - I don't think there is another word that can more accurately describe the utter helplessness of some one who does not trust in Christ.

I think of a time during Christmas a couple of years ago when we happened to be singing a song out of the hymnal. One line in the song described the "ox and ass lowing." I admit - there was nothing more funny than to hear the congregation sing that line. A room full of prudes; singing the word "ass."

There you have it. I said it. I'm not so pietous as you thought. And I, a pastor's daughter! Ha!

The Semester from Hell -or- I'm Feeling Rather Blue Lately

2007-11-01T09:33:00.000-07:00

(I love writing double titles. It reminds me of when I used to watch Rocky and Bulwinkle.)

While double titles do make me happy, things have been not so great in my life these days.

My beloved husband is working at least 40 hours a week at a pretty stressful job. He is also taking nine credits online towards his Mangerial Accounting degree, which amounts to at least 20 hours of homework a week. Not to mention the fact that we teach sunday school together, and he teaches a mens class on Wednesday nights, so there are lessons to be made. He takes care of our finances and fixes anything that is broken.

So how, you ask, can I be unhappy when I have a wonderful husband who makes sacrifices for us, takes great care of me, and goes to school so that one day when we have children I can stay home with them?

Because I miss him.

Just another six weeks and I will have him back for a couple of months. He will not be taking nine credits again. It's just too much. It will then take him a little longer to finish school, but not seeing each other is not worth it.

I struggle with my attitude. While I am immensely grateful for all the hard work he does, I am apt to become resentful, irritable, rude to him because I just want to be with him but can't. It doesn't make sense as I read my words. How can I resent him when he does all this for me? My attitude makes it even worse because during the precious moments that we do have together, I'm so out of sorts that it's difficult to even enjoy them. God, deliver me from this mind of death!

So, maybe it's the semester from hell. Maybe it's the weather. Maybe it's my poor attitude. Whatever the cause, I am blue.

A Song of Ascents

2007-10-12T15:12:00.000-07:00

Of David.

O LORD, my heart is not lifted up;

my eyes are not raised too high;

I do not occupy myself with things

too great and too marvelous for me.

But I have calmed and quieted my soul,

like a weaned child with its mother;

like a weaned child is my soul within me.

O Israel, hope in the LORD

from this time forth and forevermore.

Psalm 131

THOUGHTS ON THEOLOGY or IT'S NOT LIKE PICKING UP THE DOG POOP!

2007-10-10T09:33:00.000-07:00

I have a dual post today. I have two things on my mind, and they go together somehow inside me, but we’ll see if I can make sense of them to you.

the thoughts

Have you heard that if you put three theologians in a room they will have four different points of view? The point is that there are many, many theological viewpoints that we can subscribe to, and they can all be right in one way or another. Rather, none of them are wrong.

So what do you do? Are there only a few of us that will go to heaven? Will only those who subscribe to a certain view (say, predestination or free-will) be the only ones who are really saved? No, we don't believe that, do we? We know that there are certian essentials to being a believer and then there are other things that we can have liberty in interpretation.

the poop

Last night I had a meeting with the leadership team that I am on at my church. We always have a fantastic time together - we mesh very well. Our staff consultant is Dr. Dave. He has a doctorate in theology. What I appreciate about Dave is that he never makes you feel like you asked a stupid question. In his classes he never forces you to lean one way or another in your theology, instead he gives you all the options with the pros and cons of each. I digress... He made a comment on prayer that struck me:

"Praying is not like picking up the dog poop."

I don't know about in your christian circles, but often in my christian circles when the invitation is extended for a volunteer to pray, most people shrink away like it's the plague.

The truth is that prayer is a gift from God given to believers. Here is your chance to speak to the living God! And if we beleive that what scripture says is true, then God actually wants to hear us. What can get better than that? I don't know about you, but I would much rather pray than pick up the dog poop.

I know that often the reason most people shrink away from public prayer is not because they don't want to speak to God, but they are nervous about praying in front of people. Listen: there is no right or wrong way to pray. It is speaking to God. You can do it how ever you want. We are all individuals - let's all pray in our own individual way. We can often find ourselves intimidated because so-and-so prays so "well." Remember that there is no formula or secret phrase that you have to say for the prayer to be "good." And you'll never become confident in public prayer if you never try.

the marriage

As for how these things go together, here's what is in my mind. Often we can get so bogged down with deep theological things that we forget to enjoy the simple things that God gives us. Like simply lifting your voice to the one who made you and saved you. Like living in thankful awe of God who loves you enough to hear your prayers. That he who made the universe, which is bigger than we can imagine, and he who created the over 6.5 billion people in the world, cares about you, about me, individually.

I think there is a place for deep theological thoughts, but I don't think we will ever fully understand those things until we have an understanding and love of the simple, the basic, things.

Brothers and sisters, take advantage of being able to speak to God. It's is no light thing. Don't take it for granted. I think that it must pain the heart of our Heavenly Father when we refuse to pray to Him, no matter what the circumstance. Let's join hands and praise our God.

(*note* Please, no one take this in a harsh or condesending tone. I say this with every ounce love in my heart wishing only the best things for you. My greatest desire is to see you grow in your relationship with Christ. For my youth, know that adults struggle with this as much as you do; nearly the same thing happens in our adult classes as happens in our class. Let's break the mold and be an example of a praying youth group to the adults in our church. If you feel that prayer (either public or private) is difficult for you, please talk to me, or guys, talk to Andy. As our culture continues to degrade we need to step up and be the praying people. We can do it! Hurah!)

The Redemption of Sex and Romance

2007-10-01T10:49:00.000-07:00

Our pastor these last few weeks has been preaching a series on the Song of Solomon (or Song of Songs). I have loved being taught from the pulpit on this much neglected book. Listen to it - whether you are married or unmarried, this is so good for reinforcing God's design for sex and marriage. I'll warn you, the sound quality is really bad, but just turn it up real loud and ignore the buzz!

http://www.nbcvancouver.org/resources/

You'll probably have to scroll down until you see the title for the series.

NUMBER THREE...

2007-09-27T09:27:00.000-07:00

Two weeks ago Andy decided to wash all the windows in our apartment. Maybe it's the clean windows, maybe it's the cloudy skies, or maybe it's a combination of the two... but in the past two weeks we have had three little finches... well... expire. I won't bother you with a gruesome picture, but yesterday was number three

Like a hunting dog, our kitten barks to alert us that there is something outside. Lo and behold, there is a greasy mark on the glass door, with little, downy feathers stuck to it, and a poor little bird lying lifeless on the deck.

I'm no animal rights activist, and of all the animals in the world I'm not particularly fond of birds, but it makes me sad to see any animal dead. If there are animals in heaven, I'll be glad to see them conquer death as well. Even the birds.

Not that I don't enjoy eating meat, but I could live quite a while without it. My husband sometimes accuses me of trying to make him a vegetarian. I don't do it on purpose; truly, sometimes I don't even think about it. I love a big pile of veggies and pasta for dinner with fruit, espresso, and biscotti for dessert.

I digress. Be assured - I take no delight in the death of any of God's creatures.

How Northwesterners Do the Beach

2007-09-20T21:35:00.000-07:00

In shorts and a North Face

Our three year anniversary of wedded bliss. Cannon Beach is always a favorite spot. September 4, 2004 we said "I do." Andy tells me that he has me on a five year contract and then we go month to month. I think I'll come up with a way to keep him around.

Andy on his way to conquer the ocean.

It was the most perfect day. Sunny. Not too cold. Even the water that scooted along the shore was warm from the sun. I love to feel the earth do what God created it to do and bless him through it. We get to rejoice in our maker together.

Seasons

2007-09-11T20:09:00.000-07:00

Fall is coming. I don’t think I could say I love fall more than the other seasons, but it’s up there. Brightly colored leaves – I love that satisfying crunch they make under your feet. The chill in the air – it was 55 degrees this morning (although it is supposed to get up to 95 this afternoon. Not very fall-ish). I get to air out my cardigans and corduroys. It is a beautiful time of year in the Northwest.

The other seasons have their redeeming factors, though…

In the winter I get to sip hot cocoa and sing songs about my baby king. We always get a couple of snow days that shut the world down. It is a time of reflection and joy.

Spring brings new life to the trees. Pink blossoms open wide, as well as an empty tomb. This time I wear capris with my cardigans. It feels like a tea party.

We roll with the windows down in the summer. The sun bakes our skin golden and stays out all day so we can play. The barbecue is my favorite cooking tool (we barbecued pizzas last night).

I can’t say which is my favorite. Nay, I will praise God for his creative creation. What joy in the changing seasons!

First try

2007-09-11T10:30:00.001-07:00

Me, my handsome hubby, and our silly cat, Gary. We're not cat people, but we like ours. She (yes, she) is the goofiest cat ever. Andy is the best of men and of husbands. I am a blessed woman.