Once again, a heart was offered
But stumbling caused more pain
I ache to reach a point of rest
Where lessons will have gain

I've spent a large portion of this evening rearranging my music files. The discovery of once familiar songs has left me giddy.

There was a moment when I had to simply put the laptop down, turn on the lamps, and lay on the couch and listen.

I Hear Music by Allen Asbury was a song that I re-discovered tonight. And after the finding, it's been on repeat most of the evening.

Waves of peace are washing over me, Your tenderness unspeakably sweet. I am singing, deep within me.

We had a dreamy lunch today.

Between the very British lunch with Lea and Fritz, the fascinating drama of corporate investigations, and the amazingly scary pigeons that nearly attacked me- I'm finding Head Teller Training to be a tad bit more exciting that previously thought. [Sidenote: I think this is the first time that the Elite Travel Team Members have been together for so long]

And, I’m still waiting on that specific phone call. Trying not to get my hopes up. But it’s hard not to.

The realization that NaNoWriMo is simply days away seriously freaks me out a bit. And yes, I realize that I completely skipped A-Z. Life is just overwhelming right now. Perhaps it will all get back to normal soon.

I can't stop smiling.

Tomorrow is still full of questions, The Wait is once again a bitter enemy, and my Wonder is large and bold tonight. But my smile won't stop.

Is the smile because the scrambled eggs taste so good? Because it's fun to feel the carpet with my bare toes? Because hope and desire are mingling a bit more lately? Because the piano music keeps lingering through my house?

I don't know.

A long day of Head Teller training, lunch at Quizno's with Fritz, an AMAZING can't-be-talked-about-yet appointment after work, supper at Capri's with co-workers, and a splendiforous phone call with a dear friend.

We finally made it back from Florida, and yes, Betty’s surgery went beautifully. She’s in her own room now, walking up and down the halls, and able to take a shower, eat, etc. Thank you so much for your prayers.

I have a lot of pictures from the trip, but no time for re-sizing and such. Perhaps later.

1. Bible Outburst on the 12 hour drive to Florida.

Me: The category is Things Offered to God in the Old Testament
Dad: Doves
Mom: (not hearing dad) Turtledoves!
Dad: Snapping Turtledoves

2. Peanut slowly warming up to me, albeit our first few minutes together were full of sharp growls. By the end of the weekend, he was my new best friend.

3. Ensemble practice turning into a large southern gospel hullabaloo. Think They Baptized Jesse Taylor. Yes, I was uncomfortable at first but I soon got into the swing of things.

4. IHOP with Hannah and Heather. An omelet and 3 pancakes. An absolutely wonderful but stuffing meal.

5. Seeing my mom's old high school, elementary school, her house where she lived as a child, and the cemetery she played in. (Odd, both of my parents grew up beside cemeteries)

6. Three Netflix dvd's waiting for me when I arrived home.

7. Hearing my mom make the statement, "My friend just came back from Vegas and she said that the 'presenter' ladies walk around 24/10." What was terribly cute was that she didn't even get the 24/10 thing until my dad and I burst out laughing. And the word presenter just cracks me up.

8. Gathering dvd's and books for the Online Yard Sale.

9. Pondering about what I should do regarding the Big Decision. I'm supposed to have a meeting this week and hopefully I'll get more answers then.

10. A wondrous new purse from Old Navy. Very autumn-like.

11. Watching my step-grandmother exceed expectations after a triple bypass.

12. Listening to my step-grandmother's best friend talk about her "spirit" name.

Picture:

[link]

While teaching Sunday School this morning, I had one of those "I'm teaching to myself" moments.

I was re-telling the story of Jesus calming the waters of the Sea of Galilee, and I got to the point where the disciples were completely freaking out about the ship being covered by the waves. I asked the question, "do you ever find yourself so afraid that you forget to ask for help?"

Elliot laughed and said, "Yeah, every time I have to get my nose cauterized." (He has been having a lot of problems with nosebleeds and such and I feel so sorry for him) Meagan and Chelsea laughed and we each took a turn to tell the things that scare us. I began telling them about how I memorized Psalm 56:3 when I was merely four years old. A tonsillectomy at that young age terrified me so greatly that I quoted that verse at every doctor and nurse who walked into the room.

Which probably clarified that I was indeed a very odd child.

But while I was sharing that story this morning, it suddenly hit me. I still run around frantically, worrying about things that I have no control over while the Lord waits for me to rush to Him and ask for help.

What time I am afraid, I will trust in Thee.

The doctor told us this afternoon that she has three arteries that are almost entirely blocked. She is scheduled for open-heart surgery on Friday morning. And me and my parents are leaving for Florida in the morning.

I’m grateful that I’ll be there with my grandparents, but I’m also grateful to have this chance to get away. I have some absolutely major decisions ahead of me and I wasn’t expecting any of this. The time away will give me a good chance to ponder it all.

I covet your prayers. Not only for my step-grandmother, but also for us. Dad is still recuperating from the Great Clorox Spill of '04 and mom is recovering from an ear infection and sinus infection. And I'm just overwhelmed.

The cutest little girl walked up to me today, her bright red hair glistening and her eyes sparkling.

Her dad was buying traveler’s cheques and I could tell she wanted to ask me something. I smiled at her and raised my eyebrows as if to say, yes?

She took a deep breath and whispered, "roten Lollie?"

My eyes widened a bit and her dad chuckled and started to translate when I interrupted him.

"Ja. Hier ist ein Erdbeerenlollie."

Her mouth fell open and she giggled. I blushed because I knew my German was lacking but we kept grinning at each other.

She unwrapped the strawberry lollipop and held it up as if it was a priceless jewel. (And when you are merely six, I suppose all lollies are jewels)

"Danke," she whispered, "pretty."

Her dad grabbed her hand and they began to walk away when I whispered, "Auf wiedersehen."

I heard her little gasp as she whirled around and giggled one last time.

I got a call this morning that my step-grandmother has to have open-heart surgery soon. The doctor spoke with her yesterday and said that the heart cath revealed more disturbing blockages than he was aware of.

She lives in Florida with my grandfather and they really don’t have anyone else there. So my Mom and I have to make some last minute plans about whether we fly down or not.

Mom has a full load with her Master’s classes right now (not to mention the frantic life of a first grade teacher) and I really have no idea if I can get away. But we don’t want them to be alone. Please pray that the Lord gives us wisdom about what to do and if flying down is the correct thing to do, then we have a bundle of things to arrange here.

And, I have a Very Big Issue that I’d appreciate your prayers on. This Issue is probably the biggest I’ve encountered in a very long time and it just up and created itself yesterday. There are a thousand reasons why I should be happy and yet there are a thousand reasons why I’m terrified.

Also, my boss just told me yesterday that I’m scheduled to attend training classes next week. Tuesday through Thursday. I don’t know if the training is being held downtown Greenville or if it’s in Columbia but that is also a factor in my going to Florida.

Needless to say, I’m a bit overwhelmed.

I found an old cd tonight and with the finding came a bundle of memories. Choose Life by Big Tent Revival. The minute my fingers slipped it into my car stereo, I felt like I was back in college.

During college, BTR became one of my obsessions (Sims being the other). Yes, some of their music was a bit cheesy, but I didn’t care.

And since my evenings during college were spent at The Shack, I introduced Big Tent Revival to our world. My co-workers and I would play BTR in the break room, in the warehouse, in the little area-where-we-kept-boxes, and in the gift-wrapping department. I’d imprint bibles, order books, unpack shipments, and lounge on the wicker couch- all while humming the tunes of BTR.

Will You Be Mine was my all-time favorite song on the album. We’d push the chairs back in the break-room and lip sync on top of the coffee table. The Boy-who-first-stole-my-heart would play his gorgeous Taylor, I’d beat out a rhythm on the table, and the others would watch us and laugh.

And then when the winter days rolled around, we’d pull out all the stops and begin blaring What I Want for Christmas. I’d get down on the music manager's keyboard and we would sing holiday cheer for folks (while passing out apple cider of course).

And while I’d be rearranging the Ever Present small bottles of Holy Water (near the Veggie Tales section), I’d hear the aforementioned Boy rummaging on the sound system. In seconds, Love Me Like You Do would be blaring throughout the store and I’d hear him belting I’ve been sad and blue, I’ve been flying solo. He couldn’t really sing that well either. Which made it funnier.

Ahh, Big Tent Revival. I have no idea if they are even producing music now. It seems like they might have broken up or something. But, they certainly provided great entertainment during my time at The Shack. Thanks, boys.

Alright, I need B ideas.

Half of our small congregation was terribly sick this morning. Cold, flu, Clorox-burn, you name it.

Orchestra and ensemble was canceled for the morning and we all gathered in the sanctuary and simply sang. What began as a struggling motley crue of people attempting to worship ended in a most sacred way.

I played There is a Balm in Gilead for the offertory, Sharon sang a beautiful song, and Brendan led us in a powerful chorus of Praise to the Lord, the Almighty.

Pastor Jeff barely had voice enough to read scripture, but he opened his Bible and began softly reading from Jeremiah.

Ah Lord God! Behold, thou hast made the heaven and the earth by thy great power and stretched out arm, and there is nothing too hard for thee.

As I glanced around the congregation, I couldn’t help but see how many of us need healing in different ways. One family was full of tears this morning. Today is the day they whisper goodbye to a family member. I held a dear friend last night at the visitation and she wept as she said, waking up tomorrow is going to be so hard. Then there was the lady who is burdened for her grandson’s salvation. He visits the church occasionally and when he does you can always find him trailing after Pastor Jeff. He aches for the familiarity that we all have with each other. His home life is scarred and the name of Jesus amazes him. He’s intrigued. But not enough. And over to my left, I see two people who are attempting to swim through the academics required to attain their Master’s degree. Overwhelming to say the least. My dad was sitting in the balcony today, attempting to run the sound system. He can barely walk, and singing is well nigh impossible.

I couldn’t hold the tears back as I read the words in Jeremiah. Nothing is too hard for thee. It seems like such a simple phrase but when the God of the universe says it, my fears fade.

I will thank You for the healing, even before it comes.

The small town of Pickens, South Carolina is normally quiet in the early mornings. All the small diners are packed as usual but the downtown traffic is sparse.

When I hit 178 this morning and began entering the outskirts of Pickens, I knew something was wrong. There were two police officers at every traffic light (yet the light’s weren’t broken), there were photographers milling around in the street, and the traffic was thick as pie.

Eventually, the news began spreading throughout town that the fiasco was because the Health Department offered flu shots this morning. Beginning at 6am, the entire town came to a stand still as every Bobby Joe, Hank, and Mary Sue headed down to get their shot.

I couldn’t help but be reminded of the local grocery stores during winter. All it takes is one hint of snow in the air and we rush and buy all the milk and bread. Who seriously eats milk and bread during snow storms?

Most of the people headed to the HD had probably never even had a flu shot in their life, but oh my word, we had better get the shot this time! After all, there’s a shortage!

When Channel 4’s helicopter began hovering over the bank (filming the traffic mess), I couldn’t help but rush outside and take pictures.

One of the police officer’s who’d been directing traffic came into the bank around noon. He said he’d never seen such a rude and ornery group of people before. Apparently, one of the ladies in line was holding a sign above her head that read, “Bush is stupid.” As this police officer walked by, she took the sign down and held a new one aloft. It read, “And so are cops.”

He said it took all of his willpower to not cause a scene. You know, one of those good face-smashing-God’s-gonna-make-you-pay scenes. His mamma taught him to be a gentleman but he couldn’t help himself after discovering that she was one of the ones turned away at the HD. He leaned against her car, waiting for her return. Her eyebrows raised when she saw him, and she started to mouth off. He smiled and said, “Hope you catch the flu.”

Another incident occurred when an older woman tried to enter a restricted road. He blew his whistle at her and motioned for her to keep driving. The little old lady crawled out of her car and started screaming, “I’m going to whoop your $*@!”

He said it was all he could do not to laugh in disbelief. So he just got in her face and screamed, “Old woman! Get back in your car and MOVE IT!” She cowered quickly and ran to her car.

Heh. What a morning! And all of this for a flu shot.

"Unto you therefore which believe he is precious…"

I Peter 2:7

My friend Lea has introduced me to the world of Harmony Kingdom. I absolutely must begin collecting these pieces.

Well, everything but the Road Kill set. Those are creepy.

These are the collections I want: Picturesque: Noah’s Park, Covets, and Disney (my favorites are the Alice in Wonderland pieces and ADORABLE Eeyore piece).

If you decide to look through the pieces, read the stories on each one. They are hand-carved and their stories are amazing.

~

Also, my dad is getting worse and worse. The chemical burns are horrible and the doctor is afraid that it could get into his bloodstream. The antibiotics are supposed to be helping that but it's a fear that we all have. Please pray that the Lord will help him mentally as well as physically. It's difficult to be still when you are a man use to working hard. =\

This past Saturday, my dad and a few men decided to do some Manly Work around the church. They forfeited the idea of wearing raincoats to protect them against the Clorox they were using and just decided to tough it out.

Apparently, my dad was spraying Clorox on the building when a large amount hit the top of the roof and splattered back down on him. Completely bathing him in Clorox.

Do you have any idea of what that chemical can do to your body? Oh my word.

My dad has chemical burns all over his body right now and is having to stay home from work. And those of you who know my dad, you know that staying home from work is torture enough as it is.

Moral of the story: Wear protective raincoats when you spray chemicals. I’m sure you can even find a MANLY raincoat.

My cousin Jon works for Find Great People, a recruiting firm based out of Greenville, SC. He told me the most interesting piece of news today.

During their Monday morning meeting this week, the president of his company announced that the next big use of technology in recruiting is the use of Internet blogs. Apparently, "they" are discovering that it’s somewhat of an untapped resource for finding great people all over the country.

A stiff resume doesn’t reveal the hidden talent, the depth of personality, or the way that the person can express their thoughts like a blog can. He mentioned that as recruiters, they have the ability to discover people’s skills and learn of their past experiences simply through reading their blogs. And, he said that it would be interesting to peruse the writings of folks in both low and high positions in companies- for less than public news, odd bits of change, the ups and downs of business, etc.

Oh. This. And this. Fascinating.

While pouring over some of my high school and college art journals, I couldn’t help but ache to get my colored pencils out again.

So, to get back into the swing of daily drawing, I want you to help me start a fun little project. Starting today, I want you to comment with ideas of things that begin with A. Next Monday I will post three drawings of "things that begin with A". And then on that post you can comment on "things that begin with B" and so on. Make sense?

Also, have fun with it. Be creative. Give me a challenge!

If enough people say "aardvark" then I might contemplate it. Possibly.

A friend emailed me and said, "My voyeuristic tendencies are overwhelming me. I need to know what’s going on in your life. BLOG!"

So, here I am. =)

The past few days have just been filled with Life. Busy. Overwhelming. A friendship unexpectedly revived itself the other day which has completely taken my breath away, I finally made a decision to re-open some wounds and I’m still very anxious about the whole matter, and I also took down my bedroom door and the door to my Cave and hung cute curtains up in the doorway.

And I’m hoping and praying that I can persuade the men in The Valley to help me move my piano from my parent’s house to mine sometime this weekend.

I really want to go to Fall for Greenville too. But Kerry is busy (I think she’s just angry with me because I wouldn’t go watch bull-riding the other night) so I guess I’m stuck here.

An ornery gentleman came into the bank this afternoon and proceeded to throw a fit at one of the pleasant tellers.

Ornery Gentleman: That stupid ATM machine took my card this weekend! I need it!
Pleasant Teller: Oh, I’m so sorry sir. I’ll see if we have it in the vault.
{She found it, gave it to him, etc.}
OG: I was use to the other branch near Rock Springs- their ATM is the kind where you slide your card. I was use to that kind and your ATM makes you insert your card. I hate it!!
PT: I’m so sorry, sir.
OG: I am an important customer and I need consistency.
PT: Well, feel free to express your view to Customer Service. Perhaps they will decide to change it if you complain.
OG: I’m complaining to YOU!
PT: Yes, but I really can’t change the ATM.
OG: You are just helpless. I’m going to take my business to Bank of America.

Taking an idea from Katy, I’ve decided to de-clutter my life.

It began with 2 hours of unpacking boxes that I’d left at my parent’s house. I sorted through art supplies, old college papers, HUNDREDS of books, odd knickknacks, and way too many clothes. On a side note, those of you who know my addiction for little journals, well…I found five blank journals!

My stacks are these:
- Recycling Center Stack
- Goodwill/Hospice Stack (haven’t decided which one yet)
- Things Mom Will Want Stack
- EBAY Stack

Eventually, when I’ve done most of the grunt work, I’ll pass along the link for my Ebay items. You might find something you can’t live without!

And, I might scan some drawings I did in high school. Be prepared to laugh.

I first noticed something was amiss when our pianist jumped up and ran off stage to answer her ringing cell phone. I could hear a few instruments in the orchestra dying off and I heard the cute little boy who plays the cymbals giggling. But since he is always doing something interesting, I kept playing. When the cymbals are only half your size, you are given much more leeway.

Then Heather’s reed started doing something very funky and each time she played a certain note, a very odd rumbly noise would happen. I could hear her snorting on her clarinet and believe me, that is something that will make you laugh even if you are normally quite Pious and Calm at church.

And then during ensemble, the lady who sings in front of me suddenly grabbed her cell phone and ran out of the sanctuary. Everyone tried to act like it was perfectly normal and so we kept singing. But apparently the "unusual" things had shaken us up a bit because everyone stopped singing after the second verse. Everyone but me that is. WE STILL HAD ONE VERSE LEFT. So, I began singing.

When I realized that I WAS THE ONLY ONE SINGING IN THE ENTIRE CHURCH I glanced toward my Pastor (who had rushed to play the piano because the pianist was standing in the vestibule talking on her cell phone) to find him doing his best to hold his laughter in. But he nodded his head and I kept on. Eventually everyone else chimed in and sang along.

Needless to say, we were all trying our very best to hold our giggles in. I was blushing and trying to find my music for the offertory while Emily kept whispering what on earth is going on?

Pastor Jeff was snickering by the time he reached the pulpit.

"Sometimes I feel like I’m preaching at Grand Central Station. Anyone else need to leave?"

"There is a time for everything.
And a season for every activity under heaven." – Ecclesiastes 3:1

I’m slowly realizing that these are not the same time.

Hungering to pick up the violin, the responsibilities of helping to teach in Sunday school, giving of my best for orchestra, working a 40 hour week, aching to read the stack of books beside the Large Comfy Chair, needing to hang the beautiful red curtains I bought to separate my little washroom area from my kitchen, gathering information on Poland so I know better how to write our Polish missionary, doing Pilates everyday and praying to God that I will not bang my feet on the glass table any longer, wanting to have the piano moved down here right away, stifling the urge to scan every single picture I have simply because I now have a gorgeous flat as pie scanner, wishing restoration was a given, feeling overwhelmed at the thought of writing 50,000 words on a topic that is very real to my heart, longing for the bitter cold days of Autumn to arrive, hoping that I’m finally learning how serious some choices are, having to figure up the cost for selling pigs (Can you believe people are wanting to BUY these pigs now? Good Lord. They are just pigs!), wanting to buy a guitar because I miss playing so much, and so much more.

But I only have 24 hours in each day. And it’s hard to balance all of that with the realization that seeking His face is most important. Maybe it’s not difficult for you. But I’m a normal girl who struggles with remembering that I wasn’t made for these tangible, small bits.

So if the curtains continue to lie on my loveseat and if the stack of books beside the Large Comfy Chair goes unread, I will at least choose to do the things that matter right now.

I’m learning my limits.

I found myself opening an old hat box this morning. The lid doesn’t fit properly, and so I tugged on it for quite sometime before it came loose.

Part of me didn’t want to open it, especially knowing that I’d end up in tears. But part of me ached to remember.

The letters and cards were filled with memories that gripped me tightly. And now I sit weeping.

In one letter, I found this quote by C. S. Lewis:

"Though our feelings come and go, His love for us does not. It is not wearied by our sins, or our indifference; and, therefore, it is quite relentless in its determination that we shall be cured of these sins, at whatever cost to us, at whatever cost to Him."

I never imagined the cost would hurt so much.

Oh Father, teach me to have revulsion for sin. Always.

"Of the things that I hate when I look at my life,
the worst is my being alone…"

- Don Chaffer

A year ago today, I touched your face and said goodbye. My tears were raw, my grief was real, and my questions were many.

I miss your laughter. Your stories. The nights on the back deck, trying to pretend that your cigarette smoke didn’t bother me. Complimenting you on your jewelry even though it was Tacky as pie.

My grief is somewhat selfish. I wanted you to be apart of my life for a much longer time. But I know you are in a better place. You are with the One who made you.

I love you, Mimi.