Write

I decided it was time to write a new post.

I decided this because I actually have things to write about.

I’ve started back school. I have been waiting to write those words for a year and a half.

October 1 we will be moving into our new place.  More words I’ve been waiting to write.

October 19 I will be meeting President Clinton. Those are words I never thought I’d write!

November 12-19 I’ll be going to Guatemala. Words I’m honestly scared to write.

Then bring on Thanksgiving and Christmas and a New Year.

I’ll share more on these exciting times once they unfold.

But now, I need a nap. ;)

One

Well, lucky you! Tonight you get a twofer (I’m ridiculous…) out of me! I tried to post this on my anniversary and I obviously failed miserable. So here it is!

originally written 05/16/2010

One year ago today, I woke up a single lady and went to bed a married women. At two in the afternoon I walked down an aisle towards my future. Friends and family watched as bride and groom spoke these sweet words:

Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. – Ruth 1:16

And with a kiss we were man and wife.

Insanity

I’m baaaaack. ;)

I have no excuse for my actions and I’m here to redeem myself.

Jamie, will you ever forgive me?

There’s a problem though.

I don’t have a topic.

NOPE. Sure don’t.

Well, that’s a lie.

I have plenty of topics floating around in my head. I have about a google topics floating around in my head. I, however, do not have the energy to organize those topical thoughts into anything other than mindless blabbering. (and I’m having some issues with the commas in this sentence.)

SO, here’s what’s gonna happen. I just made this up…

I’m going to sum my life, as of lately, up,  in oh, I don’t know, 10 short phrases? (look at those unruly commas!)

GO!

1. New job! CAN I GET A HALLELUJAH?!

2.  Project Live Love

3. Journey Church

4.  The Dundies (one is my husband, two are the parents to the cutest kid ever, and the other owns the radest cats and collects gnomes. you know you wanna click.)

5. House sitting.

6. New (EXPENSIVE) tires.

7. Soon to be broke because of said tires.

8. Stepping out and trusting God. In the biggest, scariest, most exciting way.

9. Reading. Always reading.

10. College World Series. Well, at the moment anyways.

Goodness. This is just insanity. I apologize…

This is what happen when my OCD and ADD have a head on collision.

I. Love. IT.

Your turn!

People Aren’t Projects

A couple of weeks ago my husband was offered a ministry position.

Wonderful, right?

I wish.

We quickly learned the leadership in said ministry didn’t “appreciate” our theological views and made it clear we had a “warped view” of Christ.

Thus we became a project.

We needed to be shown the error of our ways.

And there was no agreeing to disagree.

As you can imagine…we were offended.

Some Christians have reached a dangerous mindset. One that says that if every person they come across doesn’t share their same thoughts and ideas, they must save them from their warped thinking.

This. Is. Offensive.

That’s like saying, “You’re not good enough. I can fix you.”

But I don’t want to be fixed.

Being broken makes us usable by God. Brokenness rids us of pride. When we can acknowledge we need God’s perfect love to make us complete.

I can safely say I disagree theologically on one level or another with over half of my Christians friends. I had to get over it. It isn’t my soul mission in life to debate with them and bring them over to my way of thinking. That’s exhausting and counterproductive.

As Christians we are supposed to build and strengthen the body of Christ. Instead we separate and weaken it with silly theological hang ups.

It’s sickening.

So take this for what it’s worth:

Your thoughts on tithing, the rapture, same-sex marriage, the government, divorce, alcohol, and tattoos does not advance the kingdom of heaven.

But one things does. Love.

Treating people as a project does not show love.

So, yes, I’m broken. But please don’t fix me.

Books

I do know one thing about myself…

I love to read.

For me, reading is an emotional experience. I form a relationship with every book. I love the smell of a new book and the way it feels to crack the cover for the first time.

Here’s my current list of must reads:

• The Well and the Mine – Gin Phillips
• Bird by Bird – Anne Lamott
• Grace (Eventually) – Anne Lamott
• Take This Bread: A Radical Conversion – Sara Miles
• Angry Conversations With God – Susan Isaacs
• A Million Miles In A Thousand Years – Donald Miller
• Someone Knows My Name - Lawrence Hill
• Churched – MPT
• Hear No Evil – MPT
• Mad Church Disease – Anne Jackson
• Harry Potter Series - J. K. Rowling
• The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
• Almost Moon – Alice Sebold
• Lucky - Alice Sebold
• Singing Songs – Meg Tilly
• Gemma – Meg Tilly
• The Priesthood of All Believers – Milt Rodriguez
• The Help – Kathryn Stockett
• Thing Places – Mary DeMuth
• Picking Dandelions – Sarah Cunningham
• The Faithbook of Jesus – Renee Johnson

Anything I should add?

Selfdom

I’m having a struggle.

An identity struggle. 

And sometimes a girl just needs to write things out.

WARNING: This blog might not make one lick of sense…and I. Don’t. Care.

What makes me, me? What drives me? What are  my goals? What are my dreams? What is my objective here on earth?

I don’t know.

That’s the real, hard, honest truth. I don’t know.

Let me get this straight: I know my worth and I have TONS to live for. This is in no way me doubting life or existence. No. Way.

But what makes me different and unique? I feel like I’ve lost myself somewhere. I’ve killed myself trying to please everyone else.

CONFESSION: I care too much what people think about me.

I’ve spent a good portion of my life trying to change myself. I haven’t spent enough time enjoying who I am.

 

The value of identity of course is that so often with it comes purpose.

                                              - Richard R. Grant

 

This post has no resolution. No epiphany.

I have no self discovery to end with.

I’m just writing it out…

Justin Allen

My husband has been in Haiti for eight days. He has four more to go.

I have missed him more than I have ever missed anyone in my entire life and it’s been refreshing.

Yes. Refreshing.

We are in the infamous first year of marriage. We are in the gauntlet. And the more comfortable we get the more we say what’s on our mind. And the more we say what’s on our mind the more we fight.

We fight because we are starting to get to know each other.

I see now that we merely met each other over the four years we dated. We were acquaintances compared to what we are learning about each other now.

No easy task.

When you’re married you have taken the vow to have and to hold until death do you part. (meaning divorce is NOT an option…)

BUT, you don’t know everything about your spouse. Oh, there is so much to learn. And what you learn you don’t always like…(And it may make you wish divorce was an option!)

Enters patience. (which I have none of.)

I must admit that I am THE WORLDS WORST at patience.

Justin learned this the hard way.

All those things I’ve learned (and are still learning) about him after we got married, I haven’t exactly been handling with grace. But a funny thing happened when he left for Haiti…

I started missing those idiosyncrasies and crazy habits he has.

I miss picking up every piece of clothing he owns off the floor.

I miss how he plays the air drums while driving down the road occasionally putting our lives in danger. (well…this could be an exaggeration.)

I even miss how he hates the way I chew my food. (I couldn’t make this up people.)

Since he’s been gone I’ve learned to appreciate him…as a whole.

The good and the bad.

I don’t miss the perfect version of him I have conjured up in my head. The person I’ve tried to mold him into.

I miss him.

Everything about him.

Haiti

A lot has happened since my last post. A LOT!

We still have to move, but the move date has been changed to February 15 and a few more factors thrown in the mix.

One being a trip to Haiti.

My husband will leave for Haiti on January 20 for 10 days. (the trip will actually be about 10 and a half days but the half day will be a layover in Miami) He will be traveling with 10 other amazing people. Please visit the website to learn more about the team and the details of their trip! www.itschance.com/haiti

If you feel lead to give money, please do. If you can do nothing more than give your prayers and help spreading the word we would be forever grateful.

As far as moving, we don’t have a plan. And honestly, we’re not making one.

We’re crazy like that…

March 1

March 1 is the day on which my husband and I will have to be completely moved out of the house we are currently living in. We will pack our belongings (the ones that aren’t scattered between family members houses) and move for the fifth time in almost a year.

This morning I was having a conversation with one of my best friends, Jamie, via e-mail. We were chatting about this and that and exchanging prayer request. I asked her to pray for me that I would be in tune and open to what God was working on for my future because I couldn’t see any open doors.

Fast forward to sometime after lunch. My friend Jessica calls and we have a very similar conversation. I say again, “I can’t see any open doors…”.

I call my husband before leaving work. I get the news. We have to move again. I don’t dwell on it, I don’t worry, and I’m not shocked. This is what is normal for us.

Closed doors. Slamming doors.

But then I had a revelation of sorts.

I’ve been feeling like Job:

…All my plans are smashed,
all my hopes are snuffed out—
My hope that night would turn into day,
my hope that dawn was about to break – Job 17:12 & 13 (The Message)

But God has been saying:

I know what I’m doing. I have it all planned out…

(excerpt from Jeremiah 29:10-11)

While throwing my pity party I missed it.

My husband and I have been moving in one direction. We had our own idea of what opportunities would arise and we would take them. We had a happy plan that would get us from point A to point B and it wasn’t messy or uncomfortable. It was easy and ended the way we wanted.

Then comes what I like to call a holy slap in the face.

I was treating March 1 as a closed-door. As a wrench in our happy, easy, comfortable plan.

I’m starting to think I could be wrong.

It doesn’t make sense and quite frankly, it sucks.

But I’m going to choose to see March 1 as an open door…

Twenty Ten

This year, I want to be intentional.

in⋅ten⋅tion⋅al [in-ten-shuh-nl] 

1. done with intention or on purpose, intended 

I want to intentionally invest in other peoples lives.