A Full Stomach and a Warm Heart

My office is right across from the breakroom, which drove my predecessor crazy, but I love it. Especially today.

We had a Christmas potluck today at work. So I had a front row seat to the transformation of our ordinary corporate breakroom to a cozy and delightful holiday table.

It started with bright red and green tablecloths, followed by a careful and strategic arrangement of centerpieces, plates and utinsels followed by food dishes. After that, each dish was uncovered. It was like watching presents being unwrapped, complete with exclamations of joy and surprise as the content of each container was reveiled. To top it off, there was the savory aromas of honey ham and warm turkey floating through the air.

After filling up our plates, we made our way to the various conference rooms, which had also been transformed from their normal corporate look. Sitting around the table, we shared holiday stories and lots of laughter. Everyone had prepared their favorite or their best recipe, so we all went back for seconds - or thirds - to sample all the new and delicious food.

It was almost like a get-together with your extended family. A little bit awkward, a little bit chaotic, but also hilarious and enjoyable. I think we all went back to our offices with a full stomach and a warm heart.

When All Seems Lost...

When all seems lost...

...There are devoted friends who share outrageous stories and laugh too loudly with you, drawing the attention of everyone else in the Chinese restaurant. And who listen and nod sympathetically when you're down and need to pour out your sorrows.

...There is a loving husband who rubs your back and gives you yet another hug, because the hug 10 minutes ago wasn't enough. And who makes you a warm mug of tea, so you have something to sooth your insides and momentarily forget your heart is hurting.

...There is a God who hears your prayers, who comforts you when you cry in the night. And who gives you strength and determination in the morning to face the day.

My Favorite New Prayer

"Dear Jesus:

Thank you for this beautiful day. Thank you for my family, and my friends. Thank you for my baby dinosaur. And thank you for the GREAT time I could have with Aunt Leslie.

A-men."

-Sam, age 4

A Lesson in Daily-ness

I participate in a weekly Bible study. We're studying the life of Moses, and are currently in Exodus.

Last week one of the passages we read was about how God fed the Israelites while they were wandering in the desert. Monday through Saturday, he provided manna (bread) in the morning and quail (meat) in the evening. They were supposed to gather only what they needed for that day. Except Saturday; then they gathered enough for that day and Sunday.

It was a daily lesson in trusting God. They had to trust him to take care of their most basic need, food. Our teacher asked us to think about this lesson of daily-ness. Do I really believe that he will take care of my daily needs? And the needs of those around me?

The future can be a scary thing. But rather than get caught up in trying to plan for what's down the road, maybe I need to gather just what I need for today. And trust God to provide again tomorrow.

Practical Shoes

I've noticed that most of the women in my office wear practical shoes. Smart, fairly plain, with little to no heel. Usually they're black- sometimes brown or blue- to coordinate with countless suits and other "business professional" attire our dress code requires.

I wouldn't say my work footwear is ridiculous, but it definately leans more to the "unpractical" side. I'm not as adventurous as my colleague, who has some brightly colored shoes including a shiny patent leather yellow pair. I own mostly black and brown shoes, but they nearly all have some unique design and at least a 2 inch heel. The closest to a practical work shoe in my closet is a pair of black textured "flats" with a half inch heel, which ironically have given me more blisters than any pair of heels ever has.

There have been a few occassions where I wish I was a practical shoe person. It would certainly make the frequent trips between our building and the other locations easier. And rain, puddles or dewy grass wouldn't be a problem.

But then I look down at my cute, somewhat unpractical high-heel shoes and can't bring myself to trade them in for sensible flats.

Hope

Hope. I think hope is one of God's greatest gifts. It's a funny, unpredictable and yet incredibly powerful thing. Sometimes you're hope-less and sometimes hope-full, and maybe other times somewhere inbetween.

I almost titled this blog "Hope is a thing with feathers" from another poem by Emily Dickinson, because I tend to be a hope-ful kind of person and I think Emily perfectly captured the essence of hope.

May hope's sweet tune be with you today.

Hope is a thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
-Emily Dickinson

If I could do anything

Every so often I like to dream about what I would do, if I could do anything.

I don't mean "anything" like when you're a kid and you wish you had super powers and could fly or shot laser beams from your eyes. (Although I would be one of the first to sign up for super powers, if I could.) I mean "anything" in a more realistic sense, as in any job or career.

There are a lot of things I'm interested in, and would love to try my hand at. Some are just whims, that I'd want to try for a year. For example, I think it would be fun to be an interior decorator. I'd love the chance to put together fabulous rooms, using paint colors, furniture and decor. Or be a florist and work with an array of flowers to make beautiful arrangements. I also would like to go to cosmetology school so I could learn cutting techniques and how to mix and apply perfect hair color.

Others are more serious, things I think I would like to do long-term. One of them is being an editor at one of my favorite magazines, and do things like brain storming ideas, interviewing and writing full-time. The other is being a travel journalist, so I could visit all the little corners of the world and write about them, but get paid to do so.

If you could just jump into a job, anything you were interested in doing--even for a short amount of time--what would you do?

Grabbing the bull by the horns

I'm usually a fairly easy-going, peaceful person. But if you push me into a corner, I'm not going down without a fight. I'm going to come out swinging. 

Over the past month and a half, I've felt gradually pushed into a corner. It made me anxious and agitated. The frustrations consumed me and I found myself complaining constantly.

But about noon today I had had enough. Enough of being anxious and enough of my own complaining. So I faced the person I was afraid of, the person who was making me so anxious.

My heart was practically beating through my chest, but I did it. My reasons were twofold: 1. I wanted to show this person I can be assertive and to not overlook me and 2. I needed to fight for my own well being and confidence. I let this person chip away at my self-worth, and that is a dangerous thing. 

Today I grabbed the bull by the horns, and I feel stronger and better for it. 

When Life Turns Upside-Down

Romans 8:38-39 TNIV
For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

The Beauty and Ugliness of Politics

The dynamics of this year's presidential election is exciting to me. It is certainly on its way to being the most interesting political race I've experienced in my lifetime.

I love that we have the freedom to vote. I'm glad I live in a democratic country where we have the opportunity to choose our governmental leaders. I see it as both an honor and a responsibility for American citizens.

But I also hate politics.

I hate the mud-slinging, and nasty accusations. I hate the heated arguments that are caused by them. I hate how different political views can create rifts between family members, friends and colleagues.

The freedom to choose - to vote - is a beautiful thing. But sometimes it makes us say or do ugly things. I pray that this election season you have wisdom to discern the candidate you believe will be the best to lead our country and the grace to accept those who believe differently.

Hair & Self-Expression

My friends might think I have great hair now, but that wasn't always the case. I know enough now to get trendy cuts that flatter my facial structure and hair type, and invest in products that will help maintain the look. But I had traditional long, straight hair and bangs until partway through high school. It was the ‘90s and nearly every girl had long hair. Certainly all the popular girls did, but somehow it didn’t look as good on me as it did on them.

Every time I visited my trendy hairdresser – my mom’s best friend – she suggested I go for a shoulder-length ‘do instead of my usual inch off the end and bang trim. And one day my sophomore year I said “okay.” It caught us both a little off guard, and she stopped and looked me directly in the eye to see if I was serious. But once the word was out of my mouth, I decided to stick with it. And she didn’t pause to let me reconsider. I walked in with shoulder-blade length hair and walked out with layers that ended just above my shoulders.

I’m not sure what convinced me to take the plunge and trade in my traditional look for a bolder one. It might have been how fabulous her hair always looked. Or that I was ready to be adventurous, to declare myself an individual. Whatever the reason, my hairdresser was right - the shorter, trendy ‘do looked great on me. And it made me feel better about myself.

A new haircut or fresh hair color still makes me feel better about myself. It’s an instant boost in my self confidence. It makes me feel beautiful. It makes me feel bold and alive. Hair probably shouldn’t have such a strong correlation with one’s self worth, but it does for me.

It’s also a chance to be creative, to recreate myself and express who I am in a new way. When a stylist asks me what I’d like done, I always go for something different from the last time, because I'm a different person than I was 6 or 8 weeks before. It’s been immensely satisfying to experiment with new looks. And I can honestly say with all the different cuts and colors I’ve had, there hasn’t been one I didn’t like.

I’ve had really short hair, and shoulder-length hair. I’ve been a redhead, a blonde and a brunette, and a lot of colors in between the three. I’ve had funky, chunky highlights and more subtle, professional highlights. I’ve flipped my hair up and curled it under. I know what “stacked” and “blending” mean, to ask for a blend of "RO" and "YO" colors and that level 6 is probably about as dark as I want to go. At least for now.

I think life is about constantly discovering more about yourself, others, and the world. And if I’m changing as a person, why shouldn’t my hair change too?

Upcoming Event

I've been one of the main coordinators for a groundbreaking event coming up on Tuesday. It's been a fun and stressful project to work on; with more stress now that we're to the final stages of planning and prep work with set-up and the event itself. I'd appreciate your prayers that all will go smoothly.

The Wall

Sometimes the words, phrases and paragraphs come together naturally. An idea transitions easily from my head to the computer screen. And my editor and friend gives me positive feedback on what I've written.

But then I usually hit a wall. And the words and phrases won't come together, no matter how many times I write and rewrite. The computer screen mocks me, reflecting back an idea that remains as clear as mud.

For the past couple days, I've continued to hit the wall with my latest writing assignment. And it's making me mad. I would so like to find a way to climb over or dig under or run around this darn wall.

Just Because

A beautiful bouquet was waiting for me the other night when I got home from work. One dozen antique white roses with pink edges stood in a vase, with a yellow post-it note next to it.

It wasn't my birthday, or our anniversary. My husband had gotten me flowers "just because."

My day started off as an ordinary Tuesday, but my husband's surprise bouquet reminded me that you don't need to have a special day to celebrate the one you love. "Just because" is all the reason you need.

bookworm

I've always been a bit of a bookworm.

Growing up, when I wasn't in school or playing outside or in the basement, you could find me curled up with a book. It started with basic picture books, then simple chapter books and finally into full-length ones. "New books" were an evergreen item on my birthday and Christmas lists, forcing my dad to nail up some extra shelves to store them. Luckily the public library was only a short bike ride away, so we could borrow more books than we had to buy.

In my middle school English classes, we participated in the "Accelerated Reader" program where we read books and took tests to earn points. Every student was required to earn 15 points every month or two; I read so much I earned about 15 points every week. It was supposed to be a contest to see which student could earn the most points, but there wasn't anyone who came a close second to me. My parents have a picture from middle school graduation of me proudly holding up the prize: a navy blue t-shirt with "Acclerated Reader" written in yellow.

When I got a job at a publishing house, it seemed a little like a dream come true at first. I got to read books, work with authors, then tell others about the authors/books. And I got paid to do it. For the most part, it was wonderful. But not everything I had to read and promote was what I would have chosen for myself. Which ended up being a good thing sometimes. I was introduced to a variety of different ideas and authors that I otherwise might not have ever been introduced to.

But when I started my new job in health care, I went on a book boycott. After having to read books for work-even ones I really enjoyed-I felt like I needed a break. So instead of books I curled up with a magazine, or sat at the computer and read blogs. I didn't touch the stack of books on my nightstand.

Two months later, I got hungry again for a book and realized it was time to end the boycott. I missed the feel of a good hardcover or paperback, the sound of turning pages, the joy of good prose. I missed reading by lamplight before bed and allowing myself an extra chapter...or two...when I should have been sleeping.

So I got myself a library card, checked out four books and now a week and a half later, I've finished two books and am part-way into the third. The bookworm is back.

Travel Bug

My international travel bug has been acting up lately, giving me an itch to head to some foreign location.

I realize travel is a luxury, but it's something important to both Joel and I. From the lush, green New Zealand landscape to the clear, turquoise-blue waters of the Bahamas, each of the places we've been able to visit has been a unique, enriching experience. And it makes us eager to explore other parts of the big world beyond this corner we live in. So we dream and plan and save up to try and see the world in our lifetime.

Unfortunately travel dreams can't always become reality. We had planned on going to Peru this fall, but had to postpone that because of my job change. We'd want at least two weeks in Peru to spend time with his cousin as well as to do some sight-seeing and taking that sort of extended vacation has to wait until I have more time off.

Now we're tentatively planning on going to Europe in the spring, making brief stops in the Netherlands, Belgium, Czech Republic, France and Switzerland. But these plans may also fall through if we buy a house before next summer.

I had started to come to terms with my travel itch until today, when we had a farewell BBQ lunch for Joel's cousin and his wife, who are head off to Taiwan for a year to teach English. I have no desire to live overseas for a year, but hearing about the travel the two of them hope to do during that time made me envious. Now the travel bug is back.

Dream House

My husband and I are ready for a house, a permanent place to call our own. Renting made sense when we first got married and has continued to be necessary to save up a good down payment for a house, but we're ready to be done with it. After a certain amount of time, all the "homey" touches like wall decor and furniture can't hide the fact that an apartment is not a real home.

We recently found our dream home through a serious of random events and we're trying hard not to get too attached or think too much about it, in case it doesn't work out. But it's hard. More than any other house we've seen, this is the one we can see ourselves in the best. It's got the perfect deck for having friends over for a summer BBQ, a large family room to host family Christmas', and a big yard perfect for kids to run around in. We could grow old in that house.

It's hard to know if we stumbled upon this dream house because we're somehow meant to have it, or if it's really just that: a dream house.

Family Get-Togethers

I'm not sure what your extended family is like, but mine is loud, crazy and hilarious. Especially my mom's side of the family.

We had a get-together this afternoon out in Holland at my aunt and uncle's house. We laid around the pool for while, soaked up the sun and cooled off as needed in the water. Then we headed inside for dinner, a feast of pork BBQ, fruit and salads and even though we were all still pretty full, we ended with strawberry rhubarb pie and pecan pie.

My stomach hurts from all the great food and from lots and lots of laughter. I'm not sure what was more funny, the story my energetic cousin told about waking up in the night to a red light coming through the window and becoming convinced it was someone outside with a laser to get her, or seeing a group of my female relatives doing face stretches recommended by my younger sister, which combined sticking out your lower jaw and baring your teeth while looking upward.

Molting

A girl in my class had a hermit crab as a pet in elementary school. She brought it in for show and tell one day; a small reddish crab with a shell on its back, housed in a circular metal cage. We eagerly crowded around, practically stacked on top of each other as only kids can do, our faces inches away from the wires to get a better look at the tiny creature.

She proudly began to tell us about her unusual pet – what it ate, what it did all day, how she cared for it, and other random information. I remember staring at it in amazement as she told us how the hermit crab would switch shells as it grew. My childhood imagination pictured the shell switch would be like changing clothes.

It wasn’t until recently that I learned the hermit crab isn’t just switching shells, it’s getting rid of its exoskeleton (external skeleton) and growing another. It’s a process called “molting” and is quite time-consuming and painful, but it allows the crab to grow.

The past couple months have been a time of transition for me, and looking at it now, it resembles a hermit crab in the process of molting.

I left one job and got another, which to some might not be that big of a deal. But I had been doing that job day in and day out for five years, and it had become part of my identity. What I did blended with who I was. Leaving meant I had to let go of an identity that defined me for so many years.

I’m not going to lie, it was painful to let go. I felt vulnerable without the job title and responsibilities, and it took time to mourn the loss of what was so familiar. But it forced me to rediscover the important things that make me who I am –the qualities and skills that make up my true identity – not the one given by an employer. It also helped me learn that true friends are friends no matter where you work or what you do.

I’ve noticed the past couple weeks I’ve been filled with a sense of peace and joy. My husband also noticed how happy I’ve been, and commented on it. That’s when it occurred to me that I’ve grown my new exoskeleton, and am feeling quite comfortable in it. Like the hermit crab the molting was challenging, but it helped me grow.

Poetic inspiration

There's a certain slant of light,
On winter afternoons,
That oppresses, like the weight
Of cathedral tunes.

Heavenly hurt it gives us;
We can find no scar,
But internal difference
Where the meanings are.

None may teach it anything,
'Tis the seal, despair,-
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the air.

When it comes, the landscape listens,
Shadows hold their breath;
When it goes, 't is like the distance
On the look of death.

-Emily Dickinson

I first read this poem in middle school, for Mrs. Rozenboom's English class. Everyone had to do a presentation on a poet, and I picked Emily Dickinson. I chose Dickinson partially because she was female and I was going through a feminist phase, but mostly because I was drawn to her writing. Her poetry is both hopeful and sad, a powerful mix of emotions that spoke to my middle school self.

I encountered this poem again in college on an English interim trip in New England. I don't remember exactly where we were, but it was an upstairs room. It was mid-January and as the group of us stood around our professors, a ray of sunshine suddenly streamed in through the window, casting a slanted light beam on the floor. Professor Fondse paused, then started to recite this poem. The visual image with the spoken words transfixed us all.

I live in the Midwest, so I am all too familiar with the weather references in this poem. I know what it's like to endure a cold, gray winter day and enjoy a warm ray of sunshine.

I also know what it's like to go through dark situations in life, the oppressive weight on your shoulders. But then there's a certain slant of light...

And no matter how many ways I encounter it, I am always inspired by and thankful for those slants of light.