Hava Nagila

Well, I survived the fun-filled, crazy weekend of wedding chaos in Norfolk. M. (my friend from college) was a lovely bride who (I think) managed to have fun amidst all the family/wedding party drama that led up to her carefully planned event. I’m thankful that she asked me to be a bridesmaid on her special day.

Some highlights, lowlights, and bafflements from the weekend:

• As a wedding guest, let alone sister of the groom, one should not let her derriere be exposed to the general public three nights in a row.
• Birdseed can hurt when it gets tossed at you. It will hurt even more when guests decide not to take the birdseed out of their sachets and instead hurtle the entire sachet at the back of your head.
• Why the father of the groom kept asking me for my autograph and then winked at me mid-wedding ceremony, I’ll never know.
• Why wasn’t I friends with the other college-friend bridesmaids that M. had? They were great fun to hang out with. It’s too bad we didn’t know each other before.
• M. remains the most animated dancer I know. Plus, the look on her face as she was hoisted up in her chair during “Hava Nagila” was pretty priceless.
• It should not take a professional 20 minutes to do your lipstick.
• Hiding in the back of the church to hide from guests before walking down the aisle? Fine. Having to run outside in below freezing temperatures (plus windchill) in a cocktail dress since there was no other way to get to the front of the church? Not as fine.
• The best way to get four bridesmaids to consider tackling you is to make an unscheduled speech at the rehearsal dinner.
• Naked baby photos should not be put in slideshows for the public to see.
• According to Thrifty car rental, a minivan is a comparable substitution for a 2-door Hyundai Accent. And a Ford Focus is an upgrade from a minivan.

The next wedding on my agenda is my sister-in-law’s in May or June. Hopefully that will have given me plenty of time to recover from this crazy/fun wedding!

Silent Night

To be perfectly honest, it’s been a struggle for me to look forward to Christmas this year. I know that, at it’s core, Christmas is about celebrating the birth of Jesus. However, I’m just not one for celebrating this year.

In May 2009, my father passed away. He spent over 13 years battle cancer and its complications. During that time, he was blessed with 7 years of remission, but finally the cancer weakened his body and he could battle it no more.

Since his death, big milestones have been tough. In June, I was disappointed that my father died just weeks short of his 60th birthday. In July, I was struck by the fact that celebrating my own birthday indicated I would continue to grow older, but in a way my father would always remain 59. At Thanksgiving, I struggled with the idea that someone other than my dad would be carving the turkey. And now, there’s the mother of all holidays- Christmas.

Several years ago, my mom, dad, brother, and I were in the car listening to Christmas tunes on the radio. I forget where we were going. The song, “Last Christmas” came on and my father was merrily singing along. As my brother and I sat in the backseat, we began our commentary, “Ugh, what a depressiong song.”

Startled, my father asked what we meant. We looked at him as if he were crazy. We explained, “The lyrics say, ‘Last Christmas I gave you my heart, but the very next day you gave it away. This year, to save me from tears, I’ll give it to someone special.’ Sounds pretty bitter and sad.”

Despite listening to the song from years, my father had been deceived by the song’s cheery tone. He had never really listened to the words. And my brother and I made it impossible for him to listen to it the same way ever again. Fortunately, this became a family joke rather than a crushing disappointment.

So, fast forward back to 2009. I was in the mall after Thanksgiving when “Last Christmas” started playing over the mall sound system. My eyes welled up with tears at the memory of a Christmas’ past and how my father would no longer be a part of future Christmas antics and experiences.

So, yeah, this year, Christmas is tough. I bought the presents last minute and am doing my best to make the day special for my mom. I made a wishlist for myself at the insistance of others. I feel like I’m going through the motions to really try to keep this Christmas as normal as possible. However, for me, Christmas was (among other things) about family. And it’s hard to really feel joy and peace while realizing that part of your family is gone.

Thank You

An Open Letter to God

Dear God,

I appreciate the snow that you sent on Wednesday. Sometimes it’s hard living in New England without getting any substantial snow until December. So, thank you for making oodles of school children happy with a snow day.

As you know, work didn’t get canceled for me, so I drove through the storm to get to work. I was unphased since I had driven in many a snowstorm- having spent all of my driving years in New England. Plus, my car is very front heavy. It has successfully out-maneuvered many others cars in questionable driving conditions. I thought I was good to go. Driving would be a piece of cake.

However, it seems you had other plans for my pride and confidence. I could tell it was slippery as I made my way out of our development, yet remained sure that everything was fine. Turning around was not an option. My ESC was occasionally blinking on my dashboard. As if I couldn’t already tell that the car was slipping, there was a blinking light causing my heartrate to jump a smidge. Thanks, automakers!

As I slipped my way towards the highway, I thought I was good to go. The highway would be more clearly plowed, right? Well, God, you proved me wrong. The ramp was slippery to begin with, but I scooched ahead little by little. I tried to ignore the fact that I was surely causing a line of traffic behind me. Then, just as I was at the top of the ramp to the highway, I was forced to yield when a GINORMOUS plow came from the other direction, depositing a mountain of snow in front of my sedan. Fiddlesticks.

I tried going slow. I tried changing gears. I tried putting the pedal to the metal. Nothing I could do would make my car move. What was I to do? There was no one in the car to help me if I got out to push the car. And despite going to the gym with J. bi-weekly, I still remained skeptical that I could push a car. Uphill. In the snow.

Having no other option, I stayed in the car. I honestly had no plan. No idea what to do. Calling the husband did not even occur to me since it wouldn’t provide an immediate solution. The humility was sinking in: I was that driver with that car. The one that everyone looks at with impatience because the pair can’t handle driving in the snow. Oh, for shame!

Paralyzed with a lack of options and the horror of causing traffic, my mind raced. But then, then!, I saw movement reflected in my side mirror!

Thank you, God, for the man in the truck who was behind me! Thank you for the fact that he wasn’t one of those angry, impatient, honking drivers who only makes a bad situation more frustrating and flustering. Thank you that despite wearing hiking books, cargo shorts, and a half-zip fleece, he was willing to get out of his truck and trample through the snow in order to come to my aid. Thank you that he was patient and helpful! I appreciate that he was sympathetic to the fact that the plow had screwed me over. I love that he made ruts in the snow for me to go through and was willing to push the car as I hit the gas. I enjoy that he good-naturedly admitted that he learned to have patience because of his children. What’s more, he cheered me on when my car made it through the snow and started moving, as if the victory was mine instead of his.

God, I pray that you bless that man and his family as an act of thanks on my behalf. I don’t know what his situation is or what his life is like, but I pray that he knows you and that you will reward him for his kindness.

Thank you for keeping me safe and sending me help when I needed it.

~Me

Hungry Eyes (Follow Up)

The French dinner party was a success. Sorta. There were varying levels.

J. made a lovely beef borgunion. It was deep and tasty and had just the right amount of wine.

B. made a beautiful and tasty French apple tart. Even the crust was lovingly made from scratch.

I made scallopped potatoes. This, for me, was the biggest disappointment. If I ever do it again, I would have added more milk. The potatoes on top of the casserole were a bit too firm for my taste. Also, I would have added more cheese and salt. I like my potatoes gooey and artery clogging.

In retrospect, I should have taken a photo of our masterpiece. However, I guess we’ll just have to wait until our next event.

In other food news, the Chili-Crusted Flounder recipe from Hannaford is a dud. Tasteless. Blah. Huge disappointment. However, other recipes from the same Hannaford magazine that I highly recommend are the Chicken and Spinach Coconut Masala and the Roast Chicken and Chorizo Paella. I’ll be making both again. You can find the recipies in here. Bon Appetit!

Hate On Me

At some point in our country’s crazy history, we somehow forgot how to love people with whom we disagree. Once upon a time, our nation’s people were able to support a president that they did not vote for. People were able to share opinions without fear of causing controversy. They could speak without worrying about being politically correct. They could write without getting hate mail… because they realized that all they were offering was an opinion, not a fact. Their experiences, trials, and passions led them to shape an opinion. And at one point, that was (more or less) okay.

However, something changed. Hate and fear and anger caused opinions to become dangerous. Now people with unpopular opinions are shamed and ridiculed. “How DARE you think that!?” or “Who does he think he is?!” This is usually accompanied by a laundry list of why the offender is in the wrong and whipping supporters into a frenzy. Somehow, people entered into the mentality of , “If you are not for us, then surely you must be against us.” But that may not be the case. Maybe if the parties took the opportunity to talk, they would realize that they are more alike than different. Maybe they wouldn’t need to be in conflict with one another.

It’s too bad, really. It’s too bad we cant say, “I don’t agree with you, but I still love you and support you” and treat one another in a compassionate way.

Free Your Mind

Despite making my way through the public school system and loving English classes, I managed to miss out on reading some classics.

To Kill a Mockingbird? Nope. The Great Gatsby? Missed it. Anything by Charles Dickens? Negative. Red Badge of Courage? Not so much.

Yet, our culture is full of allusions to these types of literature. So, what’s a girl to do?

When I was commuting a lot for my job, I reveled in the joy of audiobooks. Instead of listening to disc jockeys on the radio play the same Top 40 stuff again and again or hear themfail miserably while trying to solve people’s problems, I went to my local library and attempted to culture myself. The library started as a good resource, but I quickly went through the books that were interesting to me. And, as audiobooks are not cheap, the library’s selection was not very extensive.

So imagine my joy when I found that there were 100 free audio books, ripe for the taking! )I always enjoy maximizing the free. So, now, for your enjoyment, I share them with you- download them to your ipod during your Thanksgiving travels. You know you’re going to get stuck at the airport or in traffic anyway, so why not be entertained while you wait?

Enjoy!

http://icio.us/ecmnbh

Taking Chances

Last weekend, C. made the announcement that he was stepping down as youth pastor at our church.

The announcement is the result of God putting us in a transitional period. We’ve pretty much been in this period since my father passed away in May. At that time, my father died and our lease on our apartment was up. C. and I struggled with choosing the wise thing to do. Should we stay in our current apartment and try to comfort my mother and brother as best we could while living an hour away, thus limiting the amount of upheaval for me? (Moving and changing  jobs are usually stressful to begin with, let alone when there’s a death in the family, right?) Or, should we move closer to them to help them with the transition of going through things and selling the house?  In the end, we decided to stay in our current apartment. However, I’m not sure that we chose correctly.

Many people have been asking C.  how I have been handling his resignation. Most people know that I like order and planning, so they naturally question how I’m doing considering that C. does not yet have another job lined up and the economy is in shambles.

You see, here’s how I know that this it totally a God thing: I have no anxiety about this whatsoever. Me! Can you believe it?! I have complete and utter faith that God is in control of this situation. I don’t know what He has in store for me. I don’t know if He’ll quickly make it clear where C. should go into ministry next. I don’t know anything about God’s timing other than I remain confident that I will be able to look back at this period and clearly see God’s perfect timing in my life. No, that doesn’t help me to plan for right now or for my future, but that’s okay.

I think that part of the reason I am able to be so mature about this time of transition is that God has made it clear that staying here is outside of His will. While C. and I both have maintained meaningful relationships with our friends and students here, we have both experienced a variety of professional and personal frustrations. Stumbling blocks, if you will. (C. and I had a marriage prep book that counseled us to “turn stumbling blocks into stepping stones” and the corny, yet helpful phrase has continued to stick with me. Hee hee.) However, now that I am working through said stumbling blocks, I can see that they are really blessings. They really have helped me to see that God has something else/somewhere else in store for me and C.

And that is how I can be at peace with the unknown. So, truly, I say thanks to my stumbling blocks for turning into stepping stones. You have helped me to realize that God has something new and exciting for me.

Don’t Stop Believin’

Several weeks ago I initiated an attempt at a loving, cathartic apology.  However, I didn’t expect much to happen from it other than knowing that it was “the wise thing to do.”

Well, I have certainly been taught a lesson about my skepticism! You see, I often go into situations with pretty low expectations. That way, I am theoretically disappointed less often. (This is not the case in reality, but, uhm, anyway…)

You’ll be pleased to know that my efforts to apologize were met warmly and that an apology and partial acknowledgment of responsibility were even offered in return. Imagine that! Okay, so this whole process should have happened roughly a decade ago, but I am nevertheless thankful that it has occurred.

This whole process gives me confidence in God for other confrontations that I will inevitably have in my future. It’s really a test of my obedience. Am I willing to do as God asks and have the tough conversations ? (Thanks, Matthew 15.) Am I willing to go to others and admit wrong doing? Am I willing to forfeit my immediate comfort for long-term benefits? I should be able to say “yes!” with confidence rather than a begrudging, “fine, but only because you say so” attitude.

Time is Running Out

All Around the World

When I was 20, I circumnavigated the globe. I’ve been in every time zone. Through the wonder that is Semester at Sea,  as study abroad program, I made port in the following places: Vancouver, Canada; Osaka, Japan; Shanghai, China; Hong Kong, China; Penang, Malaysia; Chennai, India; Mombasa, Kenya; Cape Town, South Africa; Salvador, Brazil; Havana, Cuba; and we finally stopped in Florida, United States.

In my time abroad, I saw a lot. There was the safari I went on in a rugged matatu. I witnessed the majesty of the Taj Mahal. Twice. Fidel Castro and Desmond Tutu lectured me on world affairs. When a begging orphan ducked behind me, I nearly got hit by a police officer. I sang “What a Mighty God We Serve” in English while the person next  to me sang it in Swahili. A sword wielding tai chi master taught me his craft. I ate sushi, wild boar, and ostrich for the first time. I learned a great about myself once I was not surrounded by my friends and support systems. The trip was genuinely life changing and no number of stories, photos, or blog posts can do it justice.

However, I blame my journey on a significant problem I have. I’ve caught the travel bug.

I dream of enjoying the breezes off the Mediterranean. Swimming amongst the fish in tropical reefs off of Australia. Exploring the Hermitage and all of its treasures. Spending a night in an ancient castle in Europe. Cruising from port to port around the Carribbean.

I have fueled my unhealthy obsession by subscribing to any number of travel deals. I’m a bargain shopper at heart. I love countries where I can bargain and feel like I’ve walked away with a deal while fairly sustaining the local economy. So, now I troll travel deals. Budgettravel.com, TravelZoo, Sherman’s Travel, and Cruise Critic are my daily companions. I joined Twitter merely so I could be privvy to its excusive travel bargains.

Yet, C. is a dedicated Disneyworld visitor. It’s his happy place. For him, it truly is the happiest place on Earth. At Disney he knows he will be happy and taken care of and he can relax because he knows what to expect and it’s good. He doesn’t have to worry about stress of dirty hotels, frantic itineraries, or getting lost or mugged. I enjoy Disney too, particularly for some of the food. However, for me, I don’t feel the need to go every year when there are so many places I haven’t been.

What about you? Do you like going on vacation to somewhere reliable each year? Or do you revel in going to places unknown? How do you compromise with travel companions who have differing opinions of where to go each time?