Old sweatshirts and Vanilla Ice

It's funny how smells and sounds can be so powerful. There's a soap that takes me back to my sophomore year of high school, when I had a new driver's license, a great group of friends, and my first real, hunky boyfriend. Every time I smell this Dove bodywash I'm taken right back to spring of 1997, when I sported my high-wasted jeans and fake Doc Martens.

I also love the smell of my husband. When I have a particularly rough day, I'll steal one of his old t-shirts to wear to bed, and for some reason it brings me great comfort. I was worried that once he moved in and we started to commingle our laundry that this smell would fade, but somehow it survives. I think Mr. Right worries that this smell is more of an odor, but it's not. It isn't a cologne or soap, just... him. I can't describe it, but any girl who's borrowed her boyfriend's sweatshirt probably knows what I mean.

Sounds are also so powerful. There are several songs (Vidalia, Baby Blue) that take me back to my annual two-week camping trip to Garner State Park back in high school. We would two-step to these old songs under big, starry skies in South Texas and relish in the freedom of being teenagers. Ace of Base reminds me of my first cheerleading tumbling classes back in the seventh grade, when I was trying to master that elusive back-handspring.

(I don't have any pics of me learning the back-handspring, but here's a

lovely photo of me from the 7th grade... look at all those braces. And those bangs!)

Vanilla Ice will always have a special place in my heart - his one-hit wonder is my absolute favorite song in the whole world (don't judge me) and is a sure way to make me laugh. All of my closest friends have probably seen me perform the words by memory at least once. Maybe twice.

Over the last few months, as I've struggled with being sick and have gotten more discouraged, music has played a big part in bringing me comfort. I've always loved Ginny Owens, and this song in particular has been my anthem:

Cause I'm not who I was
When I took my first step
And I'm clinging to the promise You're not through with me yet
so if all of these trials bring me closer to you
Then I will walk through the fire
If You want me to

So When the whole world turns against me
And I'm all by myself
And I can't hear You answer my cries for help
I'll remember the suffering Your love put You through
And I will go through the valley If You want me to

I love this because it talks about knowing that God is good even if he doesn't seem to answer our prayers for healing, or rescue, or whatever it is we think we so desperately want. It reminds me that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, and that this trial, too, serves a purpose. It brings me great hope.

What songs have brought you comfort during difficult times? You know... besides Vanilla Ice?

My pity party had an after party

I know I said my pity party was only for one night. And that was the case... for a few days. By the weekend I started to feel better, and by Monday I felt better than I had in ages. I even told my husband that I was planning a bike ride the next night after work, something I haven't been able to do in three weeks. I was ecstatic.

And then Monday night I felt my symptoms coming back... and by Tuesday I was downright sick. Again.

I cried. Like, six times. In fact, I cried and reapplied my eye make-up so many times that I'm sure I'll have to add money to my Dave Ramsey envelope budget for an early make-up refill. It wasn't pretty.

I just lost hope. Every time I start a new round of meds, I get optimistic that this round will work. Every time I have a symptom-free day, I do a little happy dance and celebrate my recovery. And then every time I realize that it was a false alarm, that I'm still sick, or worse, that I've been healthy and then two weeks later it comes back... I feel a little more defeated. My determination to be strong and to stay optimistic gets smaller and smaller.

So when my eighth round of antibiotics didn't work... I felt crushed. I lost perspective. I felt like this will never end. I got mad because I don't deserve this.

But it will. And today as I start a new round of meds, I am again optimistic that this time it will work. I continue to beg the Lord to heal me, and am thankful for a praying husband, family, and friends who have walked alongside me and encouraged me and prayed for me. I am struggling now, but I am confident that somehow this will make me stronger in the long run. And no matter my circumstances, I still know that I serve a loving, gracious, faithful God and that at no point has he been taken by surprise. I may have stumped the doctors but I haven't stumped him. In that, I am confident, and for that, I am thankful.

Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you... And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.

1 Peter 5:6, 10

"But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Thereofre I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong."

2 Corinthians 12:9-10

Day of rest

This week was my eighth week to be sick in the last three months. I've been trying hard to keep a good attitude, because I know this silly thing will pass and someday we'll laugh about how the first three months of our marriage I spent most of my time stuck at home. But this week I decided to throw myself a pity party.

It wasn't pretty, but thankfully it didn't last very long.

I'm frustrated, tired of being tired, tired of hurting. Tired of barely making it through work, only to come home at the end of the day and crash on the sofa. Tired of not being able to work out. Tired of timing my meds so that they won't make me sicker than I already am. Tired of going back to the doctor over and over and over.

I was told a few years ago that pity parties are okay, as long as they have a start and an end time. So I threw myself a mini-one Thursday night, wallowing in the feeling that life isn't fair.

That party ended when I went to sleep. And now I'm over it.

I'm trying to do a better job of pacing myself, so I don't completely run out of energy, and today was the perfect day to to recharge my batteries. Mr. Right let me sleep in, then we made a leisurely breakfast of waffles (my favorite), watched the new Harry Potter movie, then I went right back to bed for a nap and a good, long read. Tonight I'm going to a dinner party with some dear friends, and I should have plenty of energy to thoroughly enjoy myself.

I am blessed beyond measure. I am thankful for the health that I do have, and confident that this too shall pass... and soon! I am thankful for a sweet husband who dotes on me, and for friends who have been patient as I've had to cut back on my social life. It's only temporary.

Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.
1Thessalonians 5: 16-18 (NIV)

Happy birthday Sarah!

Happy birthday to my beloved sister and one of my very best friends... Sarah.

Sarah is one of those rare finds in life - she's the laid-back middle child who goes with the flow and gets along with everyone she encounters. She's a hard worker and an uber talented interior designer (go check out her new design blog), painter, and crafter extraordinaire. She's one of the most creative people I know, and she has a sense of humor and the gift of mercy, making her a favorite of a lot people. Oh, and my dad will tell you that she was an All State softball player back in high school.

For my wedding my mom dug up some old family photos for a slide show, so I thought I'd let you enjoy some "classics" of Sarah and me over the years (and of our youngest sister Lindsay).

When Sarah was a born, I thought my mom had given me my own personal, life-sized baby doll. What a treat she was! From the looks of this picture, I think at first I enjoyed her a bit more than she enjoyed me. I can see the panic on her poor baby face! (Oh, and why did my parents insist on dressing us in bonnets? You're about to see more...)

For three years it was just the two of us, and then our sister Lindsay entered the scene. It was just about this time that Sarah blossomed into her uber cute phase, and I hit my tremendously awkward phase, which didn't let up until the eighth grade. Enjoy these and feel my pain...

My parents were cheap when it came to Halloween costumes (as an adult, I certainly don't blame them), so I was a pumpkin five years in a row. The suit went from rather large to rather tight. After that I was a karate kid for another five years, which might have been slightly creative, except we took karate, so it was the same suit I wore twice a week to class. From the looks of it, this particular year Sarah was a homemade clown, and I think Lindsay must have been Mary from the Bible. Obviously we were good Baptist trick-or-treaters... I guess this was foreshadowing that we would both marry ministers.
Ahh, yes. The year our Easter dresses sported shoulder pads that rivaled any football player. So. darn. cute. (and another bonnet...) And fitting, since both of us happen to be sitting like football players. The adult version of me wishes I could go back in time and tell 11-year-old me to CROSS YOUR LEGS LIKE A LADY! (Oops, was I shouting? I apologize)
Most of our childhood summers were spent either (1) playing softball or (2) watching baseball games. My dad had season tickets to the Rangers through his work, and anytime Nolan Ryan pitched (plus any other time we were in the mood) we'd load up the free Pizza Hut jugs full of Coke and Dr. Pepper and head to Rangers Stadium to cheer on our favorite team. It looks like on this particular night poor Sarah got bonked on the head by her sweet little sister.

We finally grew up (sort of) and lived some fun adventures as semi-adults. We overlapped one year at Baylor, and we shared some wonderful memories while we were there. Sarah changed my life when she introduced me to the hair straightener (her roommate had one of those crazy things... my hair has never been the same since) and I returned the favor by letting her lay on the floor of my apartment bathroom for a day while she battled the stomach flu (it was more comfortable than her dorm room). It was a fun year.

A few years later we were both back living in DFW and I convinced her to visit my beloved church. Soon she was hooked and we spent about four years hanging out with the same group of friends, serving alongside one another and generally just having a ball living life together. We traveled, just the two of us, to New York to watch a Yankee game one summer, and another time we took 15 of our closest friends to our favorite spot in Colorado. In between we got hundreds of pedicures, ate a lot of dinners, talked a LOT about boys, and watched a lot of High School Musical movies. I will always be thankful for those years.

Now we're both married and have houses about ten minutes apart. She continues to be a total blessing to me, and I am so thankful to have her as my sister. Happy birthday Sarah!

What I'm Reading

Once you go Nook, you never go back. My sweet family gave me an e-reader for my 30th (gulp) birthday, and now I'm too much of a snob to read normal books. It's just too difficult to turn the pages, and the balance is all off (said the girl who owns hundreds of books).

Here's what I've read lately:

This book sounds awful - it's about a girl who's held captive in a room for seven years, and she raises her son in there. He knows nothing about the outside world-- "Room" is his only reality. It's intriguing and sad and really interesting and would make a great case study for any sociology class. A good, fast read.

This sports a typical John Grisham story-line, although strikingly similar to his other book, The Innocent Man. You can tell he's definitely anti-death penalty. It's a good no-brainer read but not one of his best.

I loved the Bushes before, and I love them even more now. In this book we see George Bush pray about his response to 9/11, and we get an intimate view of what life is like for our First Lady. Mrs. Bush is downright likeable, although you have to tredge through the first 100 pages, which cover everything you ever wanted to know (or didn't) about Midland. But once you get to the White House, Mrs. Bush goes into great detail to describe her daily life. Since I'm a bit of a political junky, I absolutely loved it.

This is one of the best books I've read in years. Buy it now, and buy one for a friend. It's the story of the son of one of the founders of Hamas who converts to Christianity and becomes a spy for the Israeli army. It gives you a great view of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, and because of this book (and my current Isaiah Bible study) I am now looking for a good book on how Israel came back together in the late 1940s. I'm open to recommendations if you have any!

This book is the worst thing I've read in years. I could write a better book after taking a muscle relaxer and saying the alphabet backward nine times. (I did this during my sister's wedding so I wouldn't get stage fright. It worked.) I'm a sucker for a good chick flick and came in with quite low expectations, but it was so much worse than I had anticipated. It was so bad that about half-way through I had to just give up because I couldn't bear it one more minute. I've probably only quit five books in my lifetime.

I bought this book after my pastor's series on Heaven. This book is SO good... like most Christians, I think of Heaven as this somewhat indescribable, almost abstract place (for the record, I believe Heaven is a REAL place... I just think about it in abstract terms) where I'll be in the future, but I don't think about what it will really be like in practical terms. Luckily the Bible has all kinds of things to say about it, and this book spells it out in very easy to understand terms. However, it's extremely repetitive, so I'm taking a break after 160 pages (there's 550 pages), but I plan to pick it back up in a week or two. I won't be quitting this one.

And this is what I'm reading now. I picked it up over the weekend when I was sick in bed (again) and have blown through about two thirds so far. It's about one man's well-meaning lie to save a friend's reputation that ends up taking on a life of its own. The main character keeps a running (wordy) narrative in his head and the book is almost entirely his thoughts and neurosis. So far it's a fine read, but I'll let you know after I finish it. So far, it's better than average.

Now that I've blown through a stack of books, I'm open to some suggestions. What's the best book you've read lately?

Another embarrassing moment

In Sunday School last week, the teacher asked us if anyone wanted to share their most embarrassing moment.

That's easy. It was the time I set my hair on fire at church.

Or maybe it was the time I mooned Banana Republic.

And then there was the time I ripped my pants in a room full of people.

Or the time I almost missed church because I spilled toilet bowl cleaner in my eye.

But that doesn't even include almost puking on my husband. Or scaring a guy in the Taco Bell drive-through line.

Somebody should stop me before I hurt myself. Or someone else.

Oh wait... I already did that.

Sick but thankful

I'm sick again. If you're keeping track, that's the bajillionth time this year. Okay, that may be an exaggeration, but what isn't an exaggeration is that I just filled my SIXTH round of antibiotics. I've been sick six of the past 12 weeks. Gee whiz.

The last time I got sick, I was so upset I cried. Poor Mr. Right had to comfort me as I totally freaked out. I was SO TIRED of being sick, so tired of not having the energy to do anything.

This time when I felt the dang thing coming on again, I chose not to get forlorn. There's no use in crying or feeling sorry for myself. I can't change my situation. I'm just preparing to stay close to home and am going to sadly say goodbye to those two weeks of running three times a week. I had just gotten to where two miles didn't even phase me. Grrr.

But I'm thankful. Thankful that I don't have anything life-threatening. Thankful that while a few rounds of illness have been a bit intense, nothing has escalated to something I really have to worry about. Thankful that this time I was healthy for two glorious weeks, which is a week longer than last time. Thankful that I have a sweet husband who is there to console me when I get frustrated. Thankful that in the grand scheme of things, it's just been three months. Thankful that I'm really a pretty healthy girl.

So instead I'll celebrate the good things, and choose to glorify God during times of sickness, just like I glorify him during times of health.

"Many, O Lord my God, are the wonders you have done. The things you planned for us no one can recount to you; were I to speak and tell of them, they would be too many to declare."

-Psalm 40:5