One Voice in a Big World

JR

2010-10-21T21:10:00.004-06:00

Too cool not to share...art is everywhere.

http://news.yahoo.com/nphotos/TED-Prize-Winner-French-Street-Artist-JR/ss/events/lf/102110tedprizewinner

Happy 90th Birthday, Ray!

2010-08-22T20:39:00.005-06:00

Four years ago a friend and I were discussing our favorite authors. I made a dumb comment and said "I wish I could write mine and tell him how much he's influenced my reading, my writing, my life..." And my friend said, "Well, why don't you?" So what I thought was dumb at the time, was one of my favorite things I've ever done. Seriously. Because a week after my second son was born, I walked out to the mailbox (I remember it distinctly!) and there it was. A letter from Ray Bradbury.

My junior year of highschool, I was handed the book for what would be my first literary research paper. The book - Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury. Little did I know then, but it would change me. I've always loved reading and writing, but until Ray, I had never seen anyone break the "rules" quite like he did. Long, descriptive sentences lasting half a page or more. One word sentences. And the senses! He uses every sense he has (plus a few more) to bring you right where he is like you're in the story feeling, tasting, hearing - all of it. And that, my friends, is where I have been for the last 16 years...reading and rereading my favorite stories.

My favorite part of his letter - an original doodle on the envelope :)

Happy Birthday, Ray.

PS - Did you know that Elton John's "Rocket Man" was based on one of my favorite short stories by Ray?

Muppets and Ira

2010-06-28T21:45:00.002-06:00

Ok, a mostly unknown fact about me is that I LOVE the muppets. And I love that my kids love the muppets. I often see people and associate them with a muppet. So when I saw this video that A) had 2 of my beloved muppets in it and B) also had Ira in it, I had to pass it on.

Watch this and I dare you to tell me it's not brilliance.

Lux Aurumque

2010-06-23T21:28:00.002-06:00

I love that art has so many mediums. This guy had 185 people record different parts of a choir, send him the digital files, he combined them and created this video - he's the conductor. So strange, but very cool. Enjoy! (you may want to click on the video itself and go see it on youtube...my blog dimensions aren't quite right)

~~ Smooth

2010-06-18T08:40:00.002-06:00

And even smoother on this Friday morning...my coffee.

~~ Hush

2010-06-16T21:02:00.004-06:00

Something Different ~~Drizzle

2010-06-14T19:55:00.002-06:00

for Creativity Boot Camp

I tried Max's favorite medium ~ oil pastels.

Today's Word: Drizzle

~~ Ornament

2010-06-13T14:47:00.003-06:00

~~ Fly

2010-06-12T16:36:00.005-06:00

Max and one of his planes

Creative Inhibitions ~~ Fluid

2010-06-11T20:27:00.005-06:00

For Creative Boot Camp

Not so sure about my inhibitions...I think I need to find my medium first. I dove into photography after college when the process was real - aka darkroom processed. I loved it. Now, like most everyone else, I shoot with a digital, but have not worked on the craft and feel like an amateur all over again. And since it seems like everyone is a photographer these days, I've thrown up my hands and have become that girl that keeps thinking she'll be a great photographer again 'as soon as I figure out my camera.'

And then there's a screenplay I've been working on for years...I'm really embarrassed how many. I think about it often, but seldom put my pencil to paper. And then there's the graphic design, devotional writing, personal essays, etc. I know I don't have to choose just one, but not having a focus seems to add to me doing nothing at all.

Today's Word: Fluid

Joys of Music ~~ Grow

2010-06-10T16:20:00.004-06:00

for Creative Boot Camp
Ahhhh music. I love this prompt :)

I love music, but I am not a connoisseur of music, meaning I in no way claim that I "know" music like a lot of my friends do. I like music because of a memory it defines and can take me to, the words inspire me, the instruments excite me...it really could be anything, but I know what I like and it usually has no genre much like my taste for art, food, film, almost everything. With that said and in no particular order, my list of favorite memories associated with music:

Baby's Got Her Bluejeans On by Mel McDaniel - My mom would sing it while driving our canary-yellow Ford Granada, me sitting in her lap next to the window. I once told her she sang so pretty she could be a "country westerner singer." I hardly ever heard her sing out loud again after that.

Swingin' by John Anderson - My sister and I loooooved singing and dancing to this.

Faithfully and Open Arms by Journey - One of these was always the last song at EVERY dance I attended from 6th grade through highschool.

I Will Always Love You by Whitney Houston - This song played on the radio the first time I went to "get a Coke" with my first real boyfriend and consequently, first love. I distinctly remember that song and thinking this song is going to come back to haunt me :) Totally did. I was hopelessly in love for years...not reciprocated :(

Fumbling Towards Ecstasy Album by Sarah McLachlan - This was playing all through college...loved it. And Vox when my husband and I first got married.

She Talks to Angels by The Black Crowes - Ahhhh! I loved that the video was up for this. This was so my sister and her friends that got passed down to me.

The One by Elton John - The song that played on my sister's radio as she drove away from our small town to college. I still remember her telling me the story.

Madonna's Immaculate Album, Def Leppard, Guns N Roses, Poison, Bon Jovi! These were things I heard all throughout my childhood...not because I chose it, but this was the music of my older sister's time. Funny how we have music we associate with different members of our family, too.

Ten Album by Pearl Jam - Freshman year of highschool. So awkward, so fun.

September Morn by Neil Diamond - my and my husband's first dance at our wedding

Dreams and Go Your Own Way by Fleetwood Mac - I love to know the stories behind songs and these 2 are great.

What's the Story album by Oasis - reminds me of summer camp

Dream A Little Dream of Me - singing this with my best childhood friend...she kept me on key.

You've Got a Friend by James Taylor - This and You Are My Sunshine are my 2 songs in my repertoire at bedtime. My kids request them by "friends" or "sunshine."

anything by The Cure - reminds me of my sister and just makes me happy :)

Great songs I love - Bittersweet by Big Head Todd and the Monsters, Blue Train by Linda Rondstadt, Trapeze by Patti Griffin, Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd, Play Me by Neil Diamond, Paperback Writer by the Beatles, This Year's Love by David Gray, La Cienga Smiled by Ryan Adams, Cautioners by Jimmy Eat World, So Far Away by Carol King, Perpetuum Mobile by Penguin Cafe...gosh, there's just so many.

Oh man, I know I'm leaving so many out, but I literally could spend hours on this post. And I don't have hours to spare - I should be writing my posts for the past 3 days instead. oops.

Today's Word: Grow

Our "baby tree, " a Japanese Maple our family planted in our front yard last year and where we go to remember, to lay stones, and to pray. It reflects today's word in so many ways for me.

Nature Walk ~~ Heavy Metal

2010-06-09T20:15:00.008-06:00

Can you believe I finally got to pick up my camera at 9pm tonight? And the closest thing was my backyard. A little lame, but it will have to do.

The Swing

The Weeping Willow

The Path

And finally, today's word: Heavy Metal

Buzz Kills ~~ Multilayered

2010-06-08T12:49:00.002-06:00

Blog to follow soon...
for Creative Boot Camp

Am I an Artist? ~~ Picnic

2010-06-08T12:38:00.002-06:00

Blog to follow soon...

Ivory

2010-06-08T12:37:00.002-06:00

for Creative Boot Camp

O Me of Little Faith - Blog Tour

2010-05-24T22:53:00.005-06:00

I think Donald Miller summed up my evangelism doubts/hang-ups in Blue Like Jazz when he said telling others about Jesus makes him feel as goofy as a palm reader. Something about telling nonbelievers the "story" of Christ...I just start tripping over my feet. "Well, you see, there was this guy named Jesus and he died, no wait he was born first, from a virgin, yes a virgin, and he never ever sinned..." Frankly, it's a little bizarro at times. Why would this non-believer person want to believe ME? And what if they believe something else...like a very special family member that's Buddhist - 60+ years Buddhist! - why would she want to forsake all she knows and come to my side because of some story I told her? And why isn't her guy's story just as good?

In Jason Boyett's latest book, O Me of Little Faith, he talks a lot about doubt. It's honest, moving, a little too self-deprecating at times, but definitely worth the read. Many of the questions he tackles are ones I myself have struggled with like "What if religion and longing for God is just the way our brains are wired?" or "Is faith just a crutch we've developed to give life meaning...?" And don't get me started on HELL! Does there really have to be a hell?!

But one thing Boyett says is a bit startling to me..."I don't experience God very much at all..." And in a very 'I'm confident in my God' sort of way I just have to say - You are SO missing the boat, buddy. God is everywhere. At the risk of sounding corny...the first blooms of spring, walking into His house, a life born, a life lost, a song on the radio, a word from a friend, the art of a Japanese Maple, a summer rain, watching your children sleep - you just have to open your eyes. Have your questions and your doubts, and know they will all be answered someday, but God is ALL around.

And as for me and my doubts and hang-ups, it's really not going to be the "story" that gets my family member or anyone for that matter. Yes, the story may be awesome, but at the end of the day, we have the true God. And as goofy as it all sounds, that's all we really need to know.

Shout-Out to the Author: Oh yeah, I'm a former West Texas Southern Baptist, too :)

And if you want my free copy for this Blog Tour, please let me know your info in the comments. I'll take it down and then delete it. :)

My Skinned Knee & Bum Elbow

2008-12-14T16:38:00.002-06:00

Falling off the treadmill at my gym in front of lots of people. Price: My dignity.

Having a good friend on the treadmill next to mine to share in the humility...and then laughing until we cry. Priceless. There's some things good coordination can't buy.

A Picture's Worth...

2008-12-08T20:50:00.007-06:00

I recently scanned over a hundred pictures belonging to my grandmother. They ranged from when my sister and I were young to the 1940's when my grandparents were dating. It just made me nervous only having one copy of those priceless memories buried in a suitcase under her bed. So with her permission, I've scanned them. Undoubtedly, I found some treasures. Here are a few of my favorites...

A wallet-size school picture - I have no idea who this guy is, but I admire his sense of humor.

And one here of my grandfather while at the VA hospital during WWII. Even better than the picture is the inscription on the back. Notice my Meme's response in pencil... :)

(my Pop: For Sue. I love you. Mirve, at the Base hospital / my Meme: I love him. - "love" underlined 3 times!)

And finally, my favorite picture of the two of them.

A Gift from Me to You - A Book Recommendation!

2008-12-03T21:04:00.003-06:00

Yikes! Where have I been? I'm not always sure about that, but I do know I read a book I must recommend...if you're in to this sort of thing. I liked it so much that after I finished it, I rushed it back to the library just so another mommy (or daddy) could pick it up to be enlightened, encouraged and inspired. The book is Mother Warriors by Jenny McCarthy. I had seen a little hype going around about this new book and her last one, but still wasn't sure. I picked it up at the library and loved it. I couldn't put it down...man, it got me going. I'm still not sure how I feel about all the claims in the book, but I can say for sure - FOR SURE - if and when we have another kiddo, we will be doing things differently. Read it. It'll make those days of 10 timeouts and countless fits seem like heaven. Seriously.

Do It

2008-10-19T22:10:00.003-06:00

Early voting begins tomorrow morning....it's soooo much better than going to your one polling place on election day and anyone can do it. This way you can choose from 37 places - much better :) For more info: https://voterinfo.sos.state.tx.us/voterws/viw/faces/Introduction.jsp
Vote...or lose your right to whine.

A Writer's Interview

2008-09-15T21:27:00.003-06:00

If you have a minute, listen to this interview. It's with legendary writer Phillip Roth. It's what he says about writing that is so interesting. He says he writes all day, 5-6 days a week and is happy if just one page comes out of each day. Wow.

A Look at Wicca - Generation Hex

2008-09-09T21:04:00.009-06:00

A hippie-ish female with long hair wearing lots of emblem necklaces and dark makeup casting spells in the candlelight. I hate to admit this, but if you were to ask me a week ago what a Wiccan "looked" like, that probably would have been the first thought that came to my head. Stereotypes disgust me, but let's be honest, we all harbor them. And honestly I really had not, until now, put alot of thought into Wicca. To me, it was just an obscure cult-like thing teenagers and hippie women practice somewhere in the Northwest...or was it the Northeast? But after reading Generation Hex by Dillion Burroughs and Marla Alupoaicei, I realize I couldn't have been more wrong.

Although not a book I would typically pick up on my own, I'm glad to say I did. The book both informs and equips readers to not only know about Wicca, but to actually cultivate a response to it. Some of the things I didn't know about Wicca:

--Wicca is a recent religion (twentieth century)

--Wiccans have a strong sense of community

--Wiccans do not believe in the existence of Satan

--Wiccans do not cast evil spells - they hold to a "three-fold" policy

--Beliefs vary from one Wiccan to another and anyone can develop "sacred writings" for the faith

--Wicca is a government recognized religion and even has representation in our military

--One third of Wiccans are male

As a Christian parent, I've learned that half the battle is knowing about issues; the other half is how I respond to them. It's not hard to see how our world could so easily be seduced by Wicca's "relaxed rules, environmental emphasis, and positive attitude toward women." A cafeteria style religion does sound enticing, especially to young hearts and minds, but it simply is not truth.

To read an excerpt from the book...

To learn more about Dillion and Marla...

To buy the book...

And some wise words about writing from the authors...

How did you get involved in writing?
Marla: I’ve loved writing since I was a young girl. I used to make up stories and poems and tell them to my parents. I wrote throughout high school and college, and I worked for the Purdue Exponent newspaper for a period of time. I took writing courses at Purdue, including several with Marianne Boruch, a poet. Her encouragement led me to believe that I might be able to pursue a career in writing. Then I went to seminary and began working as a writer for Insight for Living in 2001. In 2006, I began working from home as a full-time author.
Dillon: I wrote letters to Deborah when I was in high school (pre-text messaging). We are now happily married. My senior year of high school we had to write an essay for a contest in English class. I won. In college, I majored in Communications and then in studied Theology in Seminary. I started writing for Christian magazines to get started that later opened a door for freelance work with a Christian publisher.

How do you find time to write?
Marla: I make time. The mornings are my best writing time. For the most part, I don’t have to force myself to write, but sometimes, the deadlines prevail!
Dillon: At first, I wrote articles part-time when I was a youth and college pastor. I later took a regular 9-5 job and wrote from 6-8am, during lunch, and a little on weekends. God opened up enough projects to freelance full-time freelancing when my kids were really little that later led to a position as a full-time writer at my current ministry.

What would you say to someone who wants to become a published author?
Marla: Go for it! There’s always room for one more. If you need help, please ask me and I will be happy to help. Author Mary DeMuth also has a great blog called So You Want to Be Published? that can help you in that regard.
Dillon: Start small and don’t quit. I was 0 for 10 on my first 10 magazine queries. Later it was 1 for 10, then 2 for 10, until editors eventually asked me if I had something to meet their deadline. The second piece of advice is to write with an attitude of servanthood. Most of my writing has been helping other established authors produce better books. In the process, I gain writing experience and credits that have helped me write books like Generation Hex down the road. Finally, it’s all God. I can’t give a “how to get published” talk. I don’t completely understand it myself. God wants me to write and has opened the doors. I can’t take any of the credit.

Parking Lot Rules

2008-09-04T20:46:00.004-06:00

I always like a good book that can help with being a creative parent. Some of the traditional books, although helpful, just don't fit me...or my kids for that matter. I recently read a book titled Parking Lot Rules and 75 Other Ideas for Raising Amazing Children. The author, Tom Sturges, is the son of a great director and screenwriter which caught my eye. The book is ok, but not everything was applicable to our household. However, there are some great points that got me thinking...

Smiling when my boys enter the room. I'm often in think-mode and forget to smile alot. How good does it feel, even as an adult, when someone smiles when you enter a room? It makes me smile just thinking about it.
Saying "yes" instead of "what." How many times do I hear "Mom, Mama, Mommy?" a day? Answering with the affirmative just sets a good tone in the house.
The author does a good job at explaining lyric and melody...I'll give it a try. Basically, we have something that we want to say (the lyrics) but the manner in which we deliver it determines the melody. So getting Max to clean his room could be spoken loud and sharp, "Clean your room. It looks awful!" or with a different melody..."Wow. It looks like a bunch of turkeys live in here. You might want to get busy on this room, bud, if you want to play outside later."
Making "life promises" to them. There's of course the normal ones that I feel I say every day like - I will love you always. I'm always here for you. I will encourage you to be whatever man God wants you to be. But the other night following a fiasco involving Six Flags, the Log Ride and some tears, I made another one to Max - I will never let you go to bed upset/angry. We'll see what other promises come up...
And my favorite - let them to be great storytellers. Listen intently, ask questions, laugh out loud. Make them feel confident at home so that they will be confident everywhere. To be a great storyteller is such a gift!

First Day of School (a week late)

2008-09-01T19:19:00.011-06:00

It seems like such a cliche..."it seems like yesterday." But it really does. I remember so vividly that day he was born, bringing him home from the hospital, not having a clue what to do...and now it is here - Kindergarten. Max started school last Monday, and it was a shock to our systems here in the M household. We are night people who have quite suddenly had to become morning people. Max, however, is most startled by the 3:00 dismissal - "They make me stay there until 3:00!!!" As if I'm supposed to go up there and do something about it. :)

On that first day, I parked the car and could feel the anxiety running through me. I knew the tasks before him - academic, social, spiritual, physical. In his classroom, I lingered a bit too long, which is not a good thing for Max. After a while, the teacher had them come on the rug for circle time. He bravely found his spot; his little lip quivered and his eyes filled up with tears. I stayed around long enough to know he held it together, but as I watched him in that moment I knew what my anxiety was leading up to...there are some things that can't be taught, they can only be learned. As his mommy, I want to protect him from everything. But as his mommy, I also want him to be the man God created him to be. That means letting him go sometimes, letting him fall sometimes and knowing that every experience will shape him into the Max that God intends him to be.

Me on my first day of Kindergarten - love the luau shirt Mom!
And that cool cat behind me, my sister.

Another Look

2008-08-08T22:58:00.002-06:00

As I watched the Opening Ceremonies tonight, I was simply awed. How beautiful. As you might could tell from my previous post, I'm a bit weary of it all, but I have to admit I have always been fascinated with the Games. All the hard work, all the inspiration leading up to one day, one event - it's remarkable...and a bit infectious. I see these athletes of which I have nothing in common as I am not one, but I am so captivated by their spirit. To work that hard, to believe in something so much - it's breathtaking. So as I saw the torch light the stadium, I was reminded that amidst all the politics and all the talk that has gone into these 16 days, it still can bring hope. And what are we without hope? Everyone deserves to have it.

Cleaning Up...Fast

2008-08-08T09:05:00.003-06:00

Can you smell it? It's in the air...literally in China. The great commotion and excitement that are the Olympics. And unfortunately for the athletes, it's also the polluted haze they must participate in. China has done alot over the past years to prepare for this very moment - paved countless roads, overhauled sewage systems, refurbished centuries-old neighborhoods, planted over 40 million pots of flowers and over 22 million trees. However, it also forcibly relocated as many as 1.5 million people all in the name of the Olympics. Amidst the people they have oppressed for so long, their exploits on countries such as Sudan, and their disregard for the global rules they break as they advance themselves, they are about to put on the biggest show the world has ever seen.

As I read and hear about all the stories leading up to these games, I couldn't help but wonder how I do this in my own life. Cleaning up quickly to make it to that next big thing. My house is the obvious culprit, but what about my heart? Like China, I feel like there's some stuff there I've let go on for way too long. And there's issues I can't simply put a coat of paint on and hope it looks pretty for the event. I need to deal with them. Because even with all the last minute cleaning, I still have to breathe the air around me.

A little side note, China has placed billboards all over Beijing to motivate its citizens to support the cause stating: I PARTICIPATE; I CONTRIBUTE; I'M HAPPY.

I'm speechless.

Source for stats: Time Magazine

Meet Jerry

2008-08-06T14:08:00.006-06:00

For those of you who might not have met our dog, please meet 'Little Jerry Seinfeld.' We call him just Jerry most of the time. And yes, I named him. I'm not like most nice Mommies that let their children name the family pet. Growing up, my Mom was one of those nice Mommies - the most notable of our pets was Spaghetti and don't forget her brother Mr. Toots. But not me, I figure we're going to have Jerry a good 10+ years and I want his name to be, well, special. So, I told Max that we were going to pick up his new friend, Jerry. That way there was no confusion - he was just Jerry from the beginning. And it fits him well. Sometimes he needs a sweet loving Jerry's Mom "Jer-ry," but most of the time he needs a very loud George Costanza "JERRRRYY."

As we could figure, Jerry was born around Christmas - let's just say Christmas, it sounds better. He's been with us for about 6 months and on Monday he got the snip-snip, but don't worry he's doing fine. Last week he and Josh showed us their new trick and don't think that was a quick pic. He stayed there for-ever letting Josh push him all around the driveway. He's a funny guy that Little Jerry Seinfeld.

Busyness - Make It Go Away

2008-08-04T13:35:00.004-06:00

Yesterday I was very convicted by the message our pastor gave, and from talking to several others I think we all were. It was about busyness. Something I loathe, but always am. When people ask me how I've been, I have to admit it, most of the time I say "busy." Busy with everything and nothing at all. We are a society of busyness, and as Ted stated, we find worth in our busyness. If we aren't busy, we must be slothful. But as with everything - is this what God intended for us? The answer is no.

Some things I took from yesterday's message...

I am addicted to the clock.
Time is a false God to me - something I've always tried to conquer, but never quite have. I've found it's also something I fear (but that might be another post).
I have this false assumption: How productive I am/How busy I am equates to how much I am worth.
By stopping, by fasting, by resting, I am telling God, "This is how much I love you."

"My soul finds rest in God alone..." Psalm 62:1 Please don't let me forget.

Happening Right Now

2008-05-14T20:42:00.001-06:00

A tough story to hear, but one that will make you thankful...http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=90447603
Take a minute to listen.

A Sweet Sick Day

2008-04-02T19:06:00.005-06:00

My Meme's house is one of my favorite places. It's anything but fancy, and somehow it's warmth can be felt even now when I'm hundreds of miles away. Walking in the door it's smell is so rich - of freshly brewed coffee, pancakes, bacon and "trash" (my Meme's homeade Chex mix). And it always smells this way no matter what time of day I arrive. This morning I was reminded of Meme as I dropped off Max at his Grandma's house for a sick day.

Grandma met us at the car in their driveway and immediately Max was drawn to her. "I'll make him rice soup," she said and his face gave a smile from ear to ear. He held her hand as they walked to the door and I had to smile as I remembered those sick days with Meme and Pop. When I would arrive, my Meme had her bed all ready for me - the electric blanket heated just right, some chocolate milk on the bedside table and a cartoon on the TV. My mother-in-law is very different from my Meme, but I love her all the same. My kids do too, and I am so thankful for that.

Raise Your Hopeful Voice

2008-02-26T20:38:00.003-06:00

On Sunday, this little gem of a film was awarded with a Best Song Oscar for "Falling Slowly" (the lyrics in my title - I love them), and should have been recognized for so much more. Once is the best film of the year in my eyes. When so many films are packed with too much dialogue trying to say way too much, it's what this film didn't say that made it great. Filled with assumptions that lit me up when broken, it simply stole my heart. It captures a glimpse of two real human spirits in less than two hours; now that's a feat. There is not one unreal, awkward moment in this film...and it's even a musical. But that's a little misleading. It really just seems like a film with lots of music in it...meaning there's no spontaneous breakout in song where everyone mysteriously seems to know the lyrics. And Glen and Marketa are real musicians. More than anything this film just makes me smile. And even better, my husband loved it, too. I liked it so much that I was a little nervous "letting" him watch it. What if he didn't like it? It might just hurt my feelings :) But he did like it. Yeah.

Disclaimer: My choice in film is kinda quirky, but this film really isn't....also, the f-bomb is dropped ALOT, but honestly, if you've ever had Irish friends you'll know it seems to happen alot in their conversations.

Thursday Boys

2008-02-22T11:02:00.003-06:00

The Star-Telegram features a story today about the Thursday Boys. I've often heard about this group, and wow, what a joy this article is...http://www.star-telegram.com/743/story/486519.html

The prayer in it is one to write down, commit to memory, and post everywhere you may need it.

"God, help me be a friend to all, to always do what's fair, to cherish life and live mine in a way to show I care. Amen."

Grace

2008-01-14T20:44:00.000-06:00

In our community group last week we discussed The Last Supper. Since then there has been an image that has captivated me - it is of Jesus washing the feet of his disciples, specifically Judas. Although I've read the scripture many times before, this picture of Jesus putting himself so humbly before the man about to betray him is stunning. Jesus obviously knows Judas is about to betray him, he's been sprinkling it in the conversation all night, and he is after all, Jesus, but he does it anyway. To me, it is the perfect picture of practicing grace. It makes me realize I seldom practice the grace that God calls me to give, especially to those who have hurt me or perhaps those I'm just not that fond of. Any thoughts on practicing grace?

2 Reviews

2008-01-07T19:43:00.000-06:00

Ok, ok....it's been for-ev-er since I last posted and really for no good reason. Yeah, the holidays are busy, but I did think about much...and wrote about none. So, here's what I got. Two small book reviews for those in the mood to have a good read and a so-so read.

First, the so-so read - Into the Wild by John Krakhauer. Of course, you've probably heard of it as I hear the film is quite good. And basically the story is a great one, but the storytelling...not that impressed. It reads like investigative journalism with a hint of persuasive essay one would write in college mixed in with Krakhauer's own personal anecdotes. I went into it thinking I was going to be reading something more like Capote's In Cold Blood. I know the stories are completely different, but from what I had heard about Into the Wild, I just thought it might have more of a storytelling aspect than it did. And by the way, I might be the only one who feels this way as I have not read too many bad reviews on the book.

(I always, always think I will remember page numbers as I read things I consider profound only to totally forget and then spend sometimes an hour or more practically rereading a book backwards for that one little moment in the book to share with someone. Again, I have forgotten that exact part, but I'll give you the gist...)

Tidbit to take away: Many times throughout the book Krakhauer tries to analyze why this kid went out into the wild...why on earth he would want to be alone like that. Honestly, although the guy was totally extreme, I can't say that I don't understand his adventure. Back to the tidbit...Krakhauer says (paraphrasing, of course) that when we are alone our senses are on overload. We can simply see things better, hear things, feel, etc. Some people love this, while others loathe it. I have to say I am the former. When too much is around me, I tend to miss things.

And the better for last...Four Seasons in Rome by Anthony Doerr. Loved it, loved it, loved it. Simply a warm-hearted memoir set over the period of one year in Rome, hence the title. Doerr is a writer with many awards including an O. Henry. His writing is exquisite and I did not want to finish this book - in the good way, of course. I just never wanted it to be over. No, nothing huge ever happens, but his thoughts on writing, parenting, being an American, Roman history, you name it - is refreshing and honest. He personifies light and objects in ways that I felt I was right there with him. Typically, I skip over too much description, but here I adored it - it was that good. I've ordered two books - one for a friend and one for me to go back and read with a pencil.

Tidbit to take away: Again, I have to paraphrase...Doerr, who has newborn twin boys, states that although we commonly believe that children have a smaller attention span than adults, it is actually adults that have numbed themselves to all that is around them. Children simply slow down and take everything in and see things for what they are, while adults tend to see just what they want to see. He said it so much better than that, but after looking at my own little ones - I know that statement is soooo true.

A Thought to Ponder

2007-11-28T20:43:00.000-06:00

Let us mourn until others are comforted, weep until others laugh.
Let us be sleepless until all can sleep untroubled.
Let us be frugal until all are filled.
Let us give until all have received.
Let us make no claim until all have had their due.
Let us be slaves until all are free.
Let us lay down our lives until all have life abundantly.
- Father John Harriet

This is something I heard on one of my favorite radio programs a year or so ago. I jotted it down because it seemed to hit a chord with me. I was reminded of it again as I was reading thru Blue Like Jazz. Donald Miller states "...there is something inside of me, some selfish beast of a subtle thing that doesn't like the truth at all because it carries responsibility, and if I actually believe these things I have to do something about them." It makes me think of a lot of things going on in our world right now and how ironic it is that although we Chrisitians seem to accept the ultimate truth that Jesus is the Messiah, we turn our backs to other truths simply because we don't want the responsibility of believing.

I know I might sound a little cryptic, but my blog isn't about politics. I just ask that you ponder the thought - The Responsibility of Believing...as a Christian, as a citizen, as an individual.

My Funny Little Guy

2007-11-11T23:28:00.000-06:00

One of Max's "parades"

Tonight while drying Max's hair with the towel...

Max: Mom, can you be easy? My hair is a bit unusual.
Mom: Absolutely.
Max: Mom?
Mom: Yeah, Max.
Max: You're a bit unusual.
Mom: Well thank you, Max.
(Both of us smiling.)

Greetings from Halloween '07

2007-11-11T19:16:00.000-06:00

Everybody smile for the camera!

Business in the front, Party in the back

It's The Thought That Counts...

2007-09-25T19:33:00.000-06:00

We've all heard the term "it's the thought that counts." And for the most part, I believe it. But it gets misused too often...specifically by my husband. He is quirky, goofy, infuriating, lovable and giving. When he gives a good gift, it's good. But when he gives a bad one...well, it's awful, then comical. Here's a few of my favorite bad ones:

Our second Christmas he forgot a present for me, his wife. Being in Lamesa, he had to improvise the best he could. On Christmas Eve, he headed to the only "decent" store in town - Bealls (it's a small town version of Sears/Mervyn's, etc). I got a pair of Isotoner's and some wooly socks. Wow.
Anne Murray and Kenny Rogers are among my favorites, but when I received 2 cd's one anniversary and was not familar with one of the twenty something songs, I had to ask....Did you get these at the gas station down the road? Yep.
I'm not a "roses" kind of girl. I like a little more creativity. I suppose I could like roses if the giver thought about the color or the presentation didn't involve baby's breath and plain red. You'd think after 7 years of marriage at this point my husband might know this about me. And by the way, I mentioned a few days before Valentine's that year that I did not want roses nor did I want grocery store chocolate. Please don't get me anything if you plan to get me those two things. That year I got grocery store chocolate and a single rose...from Albertson's. Thanks.
Our third Christmas he forgot a present for me again, but on the surface it did not appear so. I opened up a "print-out" of a $200 gift certificate to a furniture store I really liked. All my family oooohed and awwwed as did I. Then I got to thinking...did he put it in the online shopping cart and just print it? And did he just print it from my Mom's computer before we opened presents? Yes and yes.
Another Valentine's we decided we would just give each other meaningful cards - mine was blank...he forgot to sign it.
Probably my favorite was Mother's Day 2006. I was waaaay pregnant with Joshua and about to pop - literally. Shawn decided to take Max to the Air Show on the Sunday morning of Mother's Day. That alone was the best gift - just being by myself! When they came home, there it was...an Air Show tanktop. Because I wear so many tanktops?! And it might possibly have fit me in Junior High...maybe. Being 8+ months pregnant, I looked at him and said...are you kidding? No, and there's more. A polaroid of the 2 of them at the AirShow with "Happy Mother's Day 2006!" in shaky pen he had written in the car on the way home. I still have the tanktop - it makes me smile. And the picture is on the fridge.

But among all of those whoppers, he has given me a few to make up for his miscalculations...the spa day for Mother's Day, a new camera he researched thoroughly, a whole outfit from Ann Taylor in which he got my size right on every piece!, and the cards he has filled out contain the sweetest script that steal my heart every time. He knows how much I love words...and that is when the thought really counts.

I'm Quitting the Race

2007-09-16T20:59:00.000-06:00

There's nothing like going to the pediatric dentist and leaving feeling like a whack-job. It's kind of invigorating, really. And no, it has nothing to do with teeth. Max has the same hygienist each time we visit, so after a few years we tend to talk about more serious things than you would think one would talk about with a pediatric dental hygienist. Somehow we got on the subject of subdivisions and hayrides - I mentioned I didn't think the duplex offered hayrides...I don't think she got it. And then there was a slight insult to me. It started about some guy she knew that had some ranches in West Texas and how he liked the people out there, but didn't want to raise his kids out there. Hmmmm. Because people didn't aspire to be much "out there." Right. Not easily offended partially because I'm pretty laid back, but most often because I tend to process things way too late, I responded with one of my own philosophies of life... I politely disagreed and said that I had a theory. Picture a guy in a trailer park. He works his manual labor job, loves it, does a superb job, comes home, has dinner with his family, sits on his deck in the evening and has a cold one with his wife and neighborhood friends. He is content to do no more than he is doing...and he loves it. At this point, she had a strange look on her face and in walks the dentist before I could finish. Ya-de-ya-de-ya-da the dentist looks at Max and they walk me to the check-out desk. See you in six months, yall take care, a condescending look on her face....right. But I didn't finish! My guy in the trailer park! It would have been dumb to finish the analogy right there, so I headed out feeling a little foolish and a lot misunderstood.

So I'll finish here. Part 2 of the analogy is that there is a guy that lives in his house he's always trying to afford thinking next month he won't have this or that come up and he'll make his budget, he works at a job he hates, hardly ever gets to have dinner with his family, doesn't have any real friends, works hard his whole life for a life he always thinks is around the corner until finally he has a heart attack at 60 and wonders a little too late - was it all worth it?

I'm not encouraging not to set goals or to not have aspirations, but it is about being content in life. It's about enjoying the life God gave us. Glorifying him. I'd rather be guy number 1 by a long shot. And here's the issue - the people her friend was talking about aren't in the race. In fact, most of them don't even know there is one. It's the rat race, of course, and to put it mildly...well, it makes me sick. I suppose the race has always been going, but do we realize that there isn't a finish line? There's only people running toward something that will never be enough while constantly looking over their shoulders to see who is not far behind.

I've always been an awkward runner. Picture Elaine from Seinfeld dancing...yeah, that's me trying to run. And that's how I am in the rat race, too. I'm awkward, uncomfortable and I'd rather just be walking with people that aren't going to be looking at me and wondering what I'm doing, but just wanting to walk...and be with me. When I meet someone I know is in the race, I'm the same - awkward and uncomfortable. It's as if they're saying to me, "Take a lap. Let me see what you got." And I fail miserably. So here it is, I'm dropping out of the race and I never want to get back in. Never. I just want to walk and enjoy my own journey...in the beautiful scenery with my family and others that just simply want to walk with me and enjoy the view.

Maybe I am a whack-job...but I'm a content one.

Buena Vista

2007-09-05T19:57:00.000-06:00

Does it get any better than that? I love beautiful scenery and there was none better than where I was this past weekend. Alpine, Texas ladies and gentlemen. I love it there. I love it. If you've never been there, its a part of Texas unlike anything you've seen. Far prettier than the Hill Country...in my opinion. And I love the Hill Country, too. During years like this where the Big Bend and Ft. Davis Mountains have seen lots of rain, it resembles Scotland. And with hot air balloons in the backdrop, it's a photographer's paradise.

My family, including my Mom & Dad, Meme, my sister and her family and ours, head down every year for the Balloon Festival. My Dad flies his powershute - picture a dunebuggy with a parachute attached to it. If a car is to a motorcycle, an airplane is to a powershute. And yes, I've flown in it. It's tons of fun.

But being around my family with my own little family is sometimes a struggle for me. It's not what you're thinking...we all get along great. We love each other deeply and rarely do we have controversy. It's always a great time. But sometimes when I visit home I start to revert. I want to run around my hometown and just do the things I used to do. It took me a while after I had Max to realize that I wasn't as free to enjoy those little things like running over to my Meme and Pop's house the minute I woke to have a cup of coffee and hotcakes like I used to. Being a Mommy is the most precious thing in the world to me, but somehow things are just a little strange when I get around the rest of my family. It's like I just want to sit there and let everyone and all the conversations just sink in. I just want to relish them. But I'm chasing a little munchkin and I can't enjoy everything quite like I want to. And then I get a little wierd... and well, it's probably why my parents still call me "wierd."

They started that term when I was a preteen. I just like to be alone. And I still do. Of course, I love company, but sometimes I just want to be alone. Alone with a good book, alone with a cup of coffee, alone with nature, alone to nap, alone with Bertha. Bertha was a calico cat we had when I was a kid. She was freakishly skiddish and didn't let anyone touch her....except on the roof. I used to climb on top of the roof of our storage-shed -type-house in our backyard. There Bertha and I would sit for hours; she purring and me just thinking.

Regarless of the wierdness, it was a great weekend and there is absolutely nothing in the world better than time spent with family.

A Human Story

2007-08-08T20:35:00.000-06:00

I was driving today listening to the radio and I was crying...well, like Josh. It's not a happy story, but captures the human spirit in a very poignant way. Listen if you have the time. Or read... http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=12592168

Bitter-Sweet-Last

2007-08-08T20:04:00.000-06:00

I'm pretty sentimental. Ok, alot sentimental. But I've noticed, that it's really just when looking at the "lasts" in life - not so much the "firsts." Like on Max's first birthday, I wasn't so much celebrating the first birthday, I was more mourning that he wasn't a babybaby anymore. I started realizing the lasts in life when I was a senior in high school and I remember it specifically. It was the first day of school and I thought - this is my last first day of school. I'll never have another first day of highschool again. And so, as I mentioned in a previous post, I bought a camera. I had to remember everything. Write it down, capture it somehow - I just had to show that it happened. And since then, life has dealt its lasts....my last HS football game, last tennis match, last time to be with all the friends I grew up with on that football field throwing our caps...and that last glance at a friend named David who was killed in a car wreck not long after, last summer at camp, last semester at A&M, last night with my parents as a non-married person, last day of a crappy job, last day of a great job......Ok, the list goes on and on.

This week has been a week of lasts and if I weren't so busy with packing and the boys, I probably would be a little more sad. This is the home we brought our babies to. The home where my mom and grandma came and stayed a week to make my curtains. The home where my Pop came to visit (and he never leaves L-town). My parents moved when I was a senior in highschool to a new house, but for some reason it seems that they've always lived there. That's how I feel about this house. It's as if Shawn and I always lived here for the almost nine years we've been married.

Shawn reminded me it was our last weekend here last Saturday. Thanks, Shawn. And then came Monday - not so sad about my last Monday (you can't trust that day). Last Tuesday and Wednesday....until finally, it will be our last day. But it's a good thing, though :) How many times have I said that? And it is.

Another Rant...

2007-07-30T19:21:00.000-06:00

Call me what you will. An environmentalist, a tree hugger, whatever you wish. I've had it. I've had it up to here with people thinking that the things we are doing to our earth aren't affecting it. How could it possibly not? It's similar to our bodies - if we put good things in, everything runs better. You put junk in that God did not intend, you feel bad and things start to go awry. It's the same with our earth. All the pollution we generate, the trash we produce - it's outrageous. I'm no expert, but when we chemically alter natural things to produce unnatural things (ie. Styrofoam, plastic, etc.) do we really think we're doing a good thing? Yes, I realize plastics have helped us in many ways. But when are we going to stop assaulting logic? From hydrogenated this to polycarbonate that, we seem to be outsmarting ourselves. I know technology is wonderful - blah, blah, blah - but all the things we consume and produce just don't seem natural to me. So where should we stand as Christians? I know many Christian leaders openly deny global warming and call for no environmental stands. But as Christians, I think we should be the opposite. Shouldn't we be fighting for the earth God has given us?

Home vs. House

2007-07-20T19:55:00.000-06:00

When I was in the first grade, my teacher, Ms. Langford, asked us if we lived in a house or a home. My little six year old brain at work, I remember saying "house," but then quickly changed my mind upon her explanation. A house is merely the walls and sturcture that make up a dwelling in which people live. A home is so much more, Ms. Langford would say. It is not only where we sleep, but a place where our family congregates together, makes memories and experiences the ups and downs of life. We did get another shot to answer the question and this time, of course, we all said "home." But it makes me wonder in the times that we live in, how many of us actually live in just a house? And some not even that.

Moving out of our house has got me thinking about memories I have here. Being pregnant with Max when we first moved in, bringing him home to his nursery, making curtains with my mother and grandmother, having my Pop (who is no longer with us) and Meme for a visit, tons of other guests, countless hours in the backyard in the baby pool drinking lemonade and eating cheetos and bringing home another precious baby...It makes me sad to leave, but I feel so blessed to have even dwelled here for just a while. It is, after all, just walls and mortar. The memories are mine and I will be taking them with me. Because although I can't pack up my actual house, I can pack up my home and move it...and it will still be home. :)

That Voice is God (part1)

2007-07-15T21:21:00.000-06:00

It was one of those days I was just counting down to 8 o'clock - the time that both boys are down at night. It was only 1 in the afternoon and I had the boys and our crazy dog, Milo, in the car because we all had to be out of the house since it was being showed by a realtor. We headed to Chik-fil-A where Milo proceeded to jump thru a styrofoam cup of water that ended up in my console (very nice). We ended up at a neighborhood park to eat and play.

While I was there, I met a girl (everyone is still a girl to me although technically she really is a woman) that had a son the same age as Max. We talked and I was taken aback by her friendliness...but honestly I loved it. She was even friendly with the guy whose son was playing with our boys and with the clear message on his face that he did not want to chit-chat. I don't think she got the message because even Jim had to become friendly.

We played for about 45 minutes and learned some of the basic info you would expect to learn from someone you meet at the park...you live around here? how old is your child? etc. We were leaving at the same time and we had said that we hope to see each other again as I've often done with other moms I've met, but that was it. In my car about to drive away, I felt I really needed to give her my number. Somehow I just knew that she and I would be connected in the future. So I knocked on her door and handed her my number written in green marker on an old gas receipt.

A few weeks later we ended up talking and on a little playdate last Friday. We talked as usual while the boys played and I learned something so tragic about my new friend. It was something that was very public in our city and even our nation several years ago and although I lived in a neighboring city at the time, I remember it vividly. I realize it's very personal to her and I'll leave it at that. But she has a wonderful testimony and a beautiful story of triumph that has touched me so deeply even though I have only gotten to visit her on these 2 occasions.

I couldn't seem to get her story off my mind this weekend and I just kept going back to that busy, hectic day I just wanted to be over. What if I would have driven off and not done something as simple as handed her my number? What if I hadn't obeyed in just this little instance? I would have missed the blessing of her sweet spirit and her encouragement on a beautiful Friday morning...and even the beginning of a friendship.

On the Brink of 29

2007-07-11T18:55:00.000-06:00

Tomorrow I will be 29. I'm just glad it's not 30. Not that I'm scared of 30 or I feel like it's old, but I just want to be able to sit down and process 30 and I don't feel like I can do that right now. Things have been more than hectic around here and not in a bad way, but just in a very busy way - not necessarily in the good way either, I guess.

I suppose I've been reflecting lately about where I thought I'd be at this point in life. Is anyone really where they thought they would be? I'm not sure if I know those people if they do exist. There always seems to be a turn here or there that you don't expect, a disappointment or maybe time just passes faster than you ever thought it would. Since I've had my children, time has moved at an unprecedented speed.

So how do we slow it down? I think we enjoy each minute, each hour, each day for what it is. If it's a challenge, find joy in the building of character. If it's mundane, spice it up. Remember the things that you love and and love that they make you YOU. And secondly and highly overlooked by most people - Capture Moments. For me, that means through writing and photography. I realized when I was young that although we all think we will remember special moments, we absolutely do NOT! When I was a senior in high school, I bought a cheap camera and took pictures the entire year. I'm sure everyone thought I was a little bit nuts, but guess what? I have the pictures that no one else has - and they are priceless to me. And since then, I've always taken pictures. Sometimes pictures can make memories even better than they probably are. A typical day at the house watching my boys wrestle can turn into something so much more with pictures of smiles and laughter.

Back to writing...I'm glad I'm writing again. I am so bad about "mood" writing. I think I have to be in a perfect mood to write...and well, I don't. If I just start, I find I have plenty to say. It may not always be worth reading, but at least I'm doing it. I feel so much more alive when I am.

So here's to 29...may it bring great things :)

Out of Sorts

2007-07-05T18:39:00.000-06:00

When I look at those words, I'm not even sure what they mean...which is fitting actually because I'm just not sure how I feel. We just got back from a little vacation in Austin and it was basically just time for us to get away by ourselves and relax. And all the while, I just felt 'out of sorts.' I was just a bit lost. Maybe because my children were not with me, maybe because we're about to leave our home and have no idea where we are going to live, perhaps its all the uncertainty that has hovered around us this past year, I still don't know. It was nice, though. We stayed at a beautiful place and it didn't feel like living out of a hotel. It was more like our little village. And we laid by the pool, I read a couple of books, we watched 3 movies and I ate like a queen. That's pretty close to heaven for me, but still something was just a little off.

Each morning I woke and sat on our balcony, listened to my ipod, prayed and looked at God's creation. The balcony railings were made up of bars stretching from the ground to about 3 feet tall and were about 3 inches apart. We could see for miles across the hill country and with all the storms, the everchanging view was spectacular. But as I sat there, I felt this little spot might be a bit of a metaphor for me right now. Have I been sitting behind bars while all of God's beauty is waiting for me? Do I choose to sit behind those bars? Where is that freedom I know of and have obtained before?

One of my favorite songs says, "...when all is lost, all is left to gain." I believe it. I feel like I've been on a roller coaster for the last year and not one of the fun ones, the ones that you'd really just rather get off of. And it just keeps going and going and God is waiting for me to just trust him so that he can flip that little switch behind the control box and I can come screaching in...That would be nice :)

Thoughts on Long Way Gone

2007-06-27T20:17:00.000-06:00

Currently I'm reading Long Way Gone by Ishmael Beah and I have to say that it is taking FOR-EVER. It's because it is one of the most difficult books I've ever read. The subject matter is so compelling and devastating that I dread picking it up each night...but somehow I'm drawn to it as well.

My genre for reading is typically memoir/autobiography - anything that tells the human story. I particularly like stories of struggle and survival. I've lost count of the Holocaust memoirs and other historical books on the subject that I have read. And I simply read them because I feel I have a duty to know their stories. Although I love history, I sometimes get lost in all the details, but the story of the individual is what attracts me. How did they make it? How did they change? Will they ever be the same? For every one survivor and every one that triumphed, how many did not make it and how many simply cannot handle surviving?

In a novel I read long ago, The Archivist by Martha Cooley, there was a character that posed the question that if we allow ourselves to really understand the atrocities in our world, won't we simply go mad? I think there has to be a medium. While I choose to stay sane, I also choose to educate myself and be aware. I believe that one of the keys to unlocking wisdom on any situation is to understand perspective.

So back to Long Way Gone...I finally figured out why the atrocities in this book are affecting me so. The suffering and misery in the other books I read are extrememly difficult and I feel I am changed by each story I read, but even though this particular war is over in Sierra Leone, the story is very current. It is happening right now as we know in Sudan, the Congo among other places. My heart for this part of the world has always been tender, but never before like when I saw Sometimes in April about the genocide in Rwanda. Of all the scenes in that movie, one affected me more than any. The state official was on the phone and in the background the TV was showing Nancy Kerrigan and Tonya Harding. All I could think was that I remember that. I remember those two stupid girls fighting on the ice, but somehow I don't remember a GENOCIDE. I was a teenager then, but today I am a woman. So how do we stop it today? How do I stop it?

A Rant

2007-06-15T21:42:00.000-06:00

Nothing irritates me more than hearing from the weatherman that there's a 50% chance of rain. It's like they're saying "maybe it will, maybe it won't." I could tell you that! Geez. What other profession are you only required to be 50% right? And honestly, I don't even mind the 30% chance, 70% chance, etc. - its just the 50% that really makes me chapped when I hear it...

It's all Relative

2007-05-27T22:15:00.000-06:00

I think all of our hardships are just relative to another's hardships. Take my neighbor, Jim - his wife has Alzheimer's and just in the past five years since I've lived across the street from them, she has really changed. I saw it first in little random things she would say here or there. Then she would forget something pretty important, like how many grandchildren she has. Now Jim just shakes his head when I ask how she's doing. I know that people can live many, many years with the disease and there's no other word other than heartbreaking to encounter someone with it. Sometimes I think about Jim across the street and his own little tragedy he is living everyday with her. It must be agonizing to see the one person you know so intimately slowly deteriorate into something so unfamiliar. And maybe even more saddening is that this person who knows you so intimately does no more. Suddenly my hardships have little relevance when I think about the tears that fall from Jim in that little house across the street. Because ultimately, this is his fight, it is his life. I can visit and give my words of encouragement and some cookies, but this is his love that is wasting away. And in terms of relative, Jim's tragedy pales in comparison to a story I read today http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20070528/ap_on_re_mi_ea/darfur_s_misery_3;_ylt=AuhmzrJJlIFqphD4FFiDHtJkM3wV This world is full of tragedy (and triumph, but that is for another day). Every time I think my life is not so good, I only have to look across the street, across the globe or even next to me and remember that it's all in the way I perceive it.

2007-05-14T21:46:00.000-06:00

Yesterday I was sitting in my room - actually it's not really my room anymore, it's my room at my parent's house. It's been over ten years since that room was actually mine, but I think it will always be MY room. And it's funny because when we pack up to go see my family in the small town where I grew up, I still refer to it as "going home." Someone asked me why I still say "home" when really I haven't lived within a 4 hour journey of it in over 10 years. And the only reason I have is because it will always be my home. Its not that I am not building a home here or there - wherever I am - but there's just something about my town. Something so good that I want to leave a part of me there so that I will always come back to visit it. Ten years ago I left a piece of a girl there that I so loved and admired. She had big dreams and a love for life. She was naive, but so wise. I suppose I've taken part of her with me wherever I've gone, but sometimes I wake up in the morning and just wish for a moment I could be her again - all of her. It sounds sad when I read these words like I'm not content with the girl/woman I am now, but I like to think of it more as nostalgic. Webster defines nostalgia as this: a wistful or excessively sentimental yearning for return to or of some past period. The other meaning is "homesickness." I like the first one.