NCC. Day One. Again.

Welp. It's official.  Tomorrow will be Day #1 of the NCC, the No Complain Campaign.

"But Stephanie, weren't you on Day 5, oh a week ago?"
Good question. 

It is true that I was on Day 5 of the No Complaint Campaign on September 5th, but it is also true that September 5th ended as Day 1. I've been circling Day 1 ever since.



"Why? Stephanie? Why try? Why not just go with a good thing?" Because sometimes, words are not so good.

The Truth: Words are decisions we get to make daily. From the moment I wake in the morning, until the moment I throw myself (literally I usually toss myself in some manner) in bed, I make a lot of decisions. What am I going to where? How am I going to fix my hair (or, more accurately) am I going to fix my hair?  Throughout the day I give directions. I tell people what to do, how to respond, how to act.  And yet, one area hard to tame- my words.

Words are powerful.  "Sticks and stones may break my bones," but your words will ever haunt me, is actually a more descriptive saying than the saying children have been heard chanting for years and years.  The truth, bones can heal, and become unbroken, skin is healed of scratches.  The heart, however, is that place where memories are most stored and contained, that place where love is born and lives and dies. The heart remembers words spoken.

I love words.  Loquacious by nature, I love the abundance use of words, and okay perhaps, I enjoy a hearty conversation.  However, how many of my words are useless? How many are directed at someone with malice?  How many are shot into the air and land in the wrong spot, intended for a wrong purpose?  Too many.  One I have decided is too many.  Right now, I am working on making a conscience choice to manage my words.  It is work. I cannot lie, but every day, I am finding it easier to bite back a complaint or a groaning.  And one day, possibly in the distant future, when my name is mentioned, when my name is mentioned, those around will remember me spilling sunshine and happiness into the air, instead of grumbling and groaning. In the meantime, I'll be sporting a yellow (or purple) bracelet, as a reminder to choose my words carefully.

Want to join in my No Complain Campaign?  Just do it! Remember, you won't hear criticism, or discouraging words coming out of my mouth!  Change your world! I'm changing mine.


"The words of the reckless pierce like swords,
    but the tongue of the wise brings healing."

"Gracious words are a honeycomb,
    sweet to the soul and healing to the bones."

Shine bright, and have a little fun along the way.
Kisses! 
Hunter, out.

God's Faithfulness, With a Side of Mashed Potatoes and Gravy

Tonight, I met my friend Karen at our usual date spot.  It is a reliable place, because we are always guaranteed a couple of things.  Number 1, by the time we get there, which is normally between 6:30 and 7:00, the big rush is gone. (Their typical diners, I suspect, are on their way home by 5 pm.) Number 2, we are always greeted by either a warm fireplace, or a row of empty rocking chairs. Tonight was the latter.  We wrapped up our meal, me guzzling a last bit of that sweet tea, (strangely we manage to eat while we talk), and we headed outside to sit on the rocking chairs of rocking chairs.  It was a glorious night.  We had a clear sky, and a gorgeous sunset.

Good ole CB, or Crackle Barrel (as I called until I bothered to read the sign at probably age 12).  It is nothing if not consistent.  The sweet tea, is always sweet. The gift shop is always full, and the layout is always consistent. Literally, every state the same. 

I am nothing, if not inconsistent.  I change my mind frequently.  I decide a path, and half way to my destination, I create my own detour. I decide that I am going to do 31 different hairstyles in 31 days, and only half-way make it through day 1. I determine on Sunday night that I will be amazing and sparkling, and friendly to everyone, and five minutes from work Monday morning, I throw in the towel.  Life is hard.  And, quite frankly, I can be cranky.

Tonight, though, I was reminded again, that CB's consistency, and my inconsistency is far outweighed and out measured by the faithfulness of God. Some of you know exactly what I'm saying.  I can look outside, and although I need to work on doing it more, I can see God's work in creation. I am reminded of God's peace in the middle of a bad situation. It is always up to me to determine if I am going to live the way I know I should, full of good attitudes, sugar, spice and everything nice, or if I am going to be cranky, and full of... snails? I know what I should do. It's easy when I'm at home, in my own little world, full of 2 living plants, and myself.  God, however, God's faithfulness is not based on my current condition.  He loves me regardless.  He loves me despite consistent inconsistency.

I know, believe me, I know, bad things happen.  Bad things happen all around us. I cannot explain it. I cannot give you a good reason.  I cannot tell you why, or make it any better. I cannot.  In those moments. Those bottom of the barrel, full of complete sorrow and agony, moments, that I can most see God moving. Now matter how I look at it, I cannot explain what happens. In the Bible it talks about a peace that passes understanding.  You know, that quiet, calm feeling that you have inside, when everything in life is quiet and calm. Imagine experiencing that feeling in the midst of complete chaos. I have seen that.  I have felt it.

I cannot explain it to you.  I have sat with those in the middle of loss of the deepest kind, and although there is sorrow, there is peace.  That, is God at work. 

Cracker Barrel will be the same from state to state. And, even if you experience a bad biscuit once in a while, overall, you will always have a down home and tasty experience.  I will probably never be completely consistent.  My inconsistencies are even inconsistent.  I will, however, try my hardest.  I will get up and (AGAIN- I know, I am a work in progress, and I am consistently saying this) again give it ago one more time.  But God.  God will continue in His faithfulness. He will bring peace to those who look to Him. He will continue to give me do-overs, even if it's daily (it generally is for me- unless I sleep for a constant 24  hours).  He will continue in this manner, without fail. 

Great and Consistent is His Faithfulness.
Cracker Barrel's mashed potatoes, while excellent, can hardly compare. 

Better Than Fine, Always

"Stephanie, don't borrow trouble." I can see her, with her finger pointing near my nose, and her mouth pursed. My Mama still says this to me, and even on the phone I can see the look she gives me. "Just don't do it. In the end, you cannot change anything by worrying, and you will have wasted your time; everything will be fine."  I have to admit, that she has always been right, everything always has been fine, better than fine. Despite my proficiency in worrying, she is correct, it doesn't change anything, and it certainly wastes time.

However, I have to also admit, that I have not always listened to my mother. Today is certainly no different. I am fighting the worry, and trying to occupy myself with other things, like praying, and, oh I don't know... eating ice cream, and watching geeky movies. (Even Matlock isn't helping tonight.)  Once again, I'm faced with a decision, a choice to worry, or a choice to trust, trust God that all will be alright.

More than the actual outcome, I'm actually more concerned about my attitude, which although I try to tamp it down, it does tend to run around flaring it's red hair.  I like things my way.   I like giving my hand a little quick wave, and directing other people to do whatever I tell them. (Probably why I enjoy being called "boss" so much (ha!)) I know everyone says they want things the way that want them, but I really really mean it, and over time I've only gotten worse.  I tend to have an attitude if it does not, and even if it doesn't show, I can feel it, and it's not so great.


Right now, the real question isn't even what am I talking about.  It doesn't matter. The truth is every day I wake up. And, when I do, I have to determine if I am going to do what I can to change what I can, and whether or not I am going to accept those things that I cannot. (Side note, I just read that sentence four times, and I have no idea if it even makes sense.) 


Is there a prayer request somewhere in all this mess? Yes. Please pray that I can tuck away my bad attitude, and replace it with grace and understanding and compassion, and all other things that are needed while living. Please pray that I will take advantage of today. Please pray that I will overcome my attitude, that I will love all people, and that when I wake up, I will shine. 


1 Thessalonians 5:5 

More, Please

I have been looking forward to the day(s) when I was free of school work and able to enjoy ... EVERYTHING.  Now that those day(S)! have arrived, I have been thoroughly enjoying myself. 

Earlier this year I decided (because of Facebook) to volunteer myself in making 12ish projects for people in 2012.  My number is actually a little longer than 12, but the more the merrier I say.  I took care of one project a while ago, and then a second project a little while ago minus a few weeks.  This weekend I took on a third, and soon that'll be in the mail! (very excited and I hope they like it!)

Needless to say, the only things that are preventing my creating and living life fun would be work and sleeping.  I'm managing to get a lot squeezed in regardless.

Along came Pinterest.  It's the rave right now, especially among bloggers and Facebookers, teachers, mothers, fathers(?), friends... anyone with a computer really.  This week I decided to make a meal based on recipes all on Pinterest.  I used to be way more proactive about finding new recipes in my cookbooks (my mom, for those of you who don't know, is a cooker, so one thing I am NOT without is a cookbook- or 15.)  For a while, that wasn't happening.  Now, I'm back in full force. 

Unfortunately, I forgot to take a picture yesterday! I shocked myself, because I tend to take pictures of everything, even if it's just for me.  Regardless,  yesterday I made Easy, Garlic Chicken, Strawberry Cream Pie (much thanks to Just Puzting Around the Kitchen) and "Zesty" Italian Potatoes!

I have to confess however, I am not a fan of graham cracker crust, so I decided to try my hand at making my own without a recipe.  I'm not really a measure-er with anything except for baking.  Since I was on such a roll yesterday dashing this and sprinkling more of that, I just thought how hard could crust be??? Yeahhhh.  It was more like Strawberries and Cream! But, hey! turned out great just as is, and discovered the cream would be excellent (and was) just as a dip for fruit, or cookies! 

On to somethin' new!
Love to all!

A Lunch Box and A Little Bit o' Potential

Sometimes, the greatest gift someone can give us, is his or her story.

Their story is priceless. However, it is their story to tell, and not mine.  Other stories though evolved as I watched and listened and saw all that happened over minutes and hours and days.  Somehow in that small fraction of time, hundreds of minutes, I watched a story.

Goofy? Yes. Absolutely, 100 percent, goofy.  Compassionate? 150 percent.  Even as a child, his heart ached, ached for others.  I was self-conscious and worrying about matching, and he was worried about the hurts of another child.  This girl, you see, was not like the others. She was messy. She was not attractive, and she did not smell good.  I can remember being a child and knowing when something was not clean, and not wanting to have anything to do with it, but he... he did not let her exterior dissuade him from becoming her friend.

And, he was her friend.  I do not know the length of time that he remained by her side. I do not know the lunch hours he spent talking with her. All I know is that he said, he could not leave her alone. He could not leave her to face the big lunch room, and the students who accompany that place, alone.  I can imagine they talked about school, and assignments and teachers, and hobbies that they enjoyed when they were free in the summer.

It did not take the other kids long to figure it out that they had a new target.  Object 1, well, she didn't look so nice, and since Object 2 hung around her... he must not look so nice either.

Kids are cruel.  His heart was broken daily as words like rocks were thrown at him, smashing him down and causing him to question his cause.  He could leave her.  There was no rule or requirement that forced him to be with her. He could and no one would blame him.  The trouble is, he couldn't. God placed that girl in his heart on purpose, and he wouldn't abandon her. And so he didn't. He stuck by her side.  As the other kids mocked and jeered, he kept tucked in his heart words of songs, and promises of a Savior who had designed a great purpose for his life. The whole time kids were laughing, he moved about shining.  Eventually, I'm sure he lost touch.  I cannot but help believe, though, that she never forgot her friend.

I needed the reminder.  The story was told almost nonchalantly, but as it was told, the attention of my heart was grasped.  My burdens have been selfish as of late.  Inconsiderate even. Totally inward.  But, a child, the child who still lives in the grown man called out to me, reminding me that time is short, and the world is hurting.  I am far removed from the elementary school cafeteria. (Shout out to all my York friends!) I am not so far removed though from the hurt I recall at being rejected, and disowned by "friends." I know the pain of not fitting in, and not knowing where I belong.

We live in a world full of titles, and clubs, and in-crowds and "out-crowds," and we hope that as we grow up, we learn to out grow those groups, but we don't.  We look to fit in and belong.  However, above all, there is ONE person to whom I must belong.... and He, He doesn't care what we look like, or what we bring to the table in our lunch boxes. He simply cares that we come. 

To the little boy, who has worked so hard at shining, keep going. Don't give up, and don't get discouraged, even now remember God has GREAT plans for you, and the beautiful girl you now have has your wife. We cannot always see around the corner, but we can always be certain that God is waiting there with a big sign that says, "You are NOT gonna believe what I have planned next!"

To those of you uncertain about your place, and finding where you belong, talk to me.  I can show you the way. There's always room at His table.

Much love to all,

Barbecue Sauce with Fries on the Side

I cannot think about Beth without smiling.  She is there, in many many memories, smiling, acting goofy, and probably doing something us older girls bribed her to do. (We promise, we will never tell....love you Bethy!) We also knew, all of us, that she would marry her Chris, and she did. Now, they have three beautiful (and I mean beautiful) babies. 

It is amazing to see her (well, I Facebook-cyber-stalk Beth on a regular basis) and hear her stories and antics about what her children are up to, and how they are becoming these amazing people already at such a young age.  I am, however, not surprised that hilarity often ensues. 


Most recently I was struck by a comment that she made regarding Keely. Keely, age 3, is Beth all over again, with her big eyes, and light hair.  As Beth and Keely were out and about one day running errands, Beth took a jaunt through McD's, and while normally eating in the van is not allowed, that day, Mommy made an exception.

Although I wasn't actually present for the event, I can well see what took place over the next few moments as Keely rummaged through the bag, looking through her lunch items, when she saw something in the bottom that did not belong.

Being the dramatic soul that I am, I imagine that in this next moment, Keely through her arm over her face, and with her other hand practically toss the bag to her mom.  (Basically, because that's what I'd do.)  What she did do though, was yell, "Take this! Take this! I am not allowed to have it!!"

What was in the bag? Barbecue sauce.


I cannot say how I would have responded right now, let alone when I was a mere three years old.  You may be thinking, "Wouldn't you just eat it? It's barbecue sauce... you're an adult. You can eat in the car if you want to, or don't. Really, no one cares about the BBQ sauce..."  The truth is, I would eat barbecue sauce,  (except that right now, I am avoiding fast food altogether [sigh]).  As I read this though, my thought trailed away from beloved BBQ to regular ol' temptation.

For Keely, it wasn't enough for Keely to leave the BBQ sauce in the bottom of her bag, close it up and set it on the seat beside her.  The temptation was just too close. Close enough, in fact, that she could have done the sneaky thing, opened the packet and tasted the yummy goodness.  (Those packets are hard to open, but in a child's determined hands, I wouldn't put it past her.) Keely, in the wisdom of a three year old, saw past the moment of instant gratification, and saw where the consequences of  her actions would lead. BBQ sauce can be hard to hide if it's all over your face, you are out of napkins, and have no mirror. (I'm just sayin'.)

Instead she knew that she had to rid herself of the temptation altogether.
"Take this! Take this, Mom! I am not allowed to have it!!"  
Being the super mom that she is, Beth took the BBQ sauce, relinquishing her daughter from the sauce and any possible outcomes that might have happened had she kept it. 

I have my own temptations.  BBQ sauce is not necessarily one of them, but they are there, and my decision becomes what do I do with them. 

We can read the Bible and know that even Jesus faced temptation, so unfortunately, I'm not sure of a way where we can altogether stop them from coming.  However, there are methods for getting rid of them.  In Keely's case, toss the bag with the goods into the front seat with Mom.  She'll keep her covered.

In my case, a little prayer goes a long way. I guess, that would involve me "tossing the bag with the goods into the hands of my Father." He has proven good at catching.

Matthew 26:41
"Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak."

Sending lots of love and chocolate (and a little barbecue sauce) your way,
 

Oh, and Keely, High Five to you! Way to go!! 

Brandon

The bus ride.
That dreaded stretch in the afternoon when we would load onto the bus and sit (for what seemed forever) It was not a quiet, calm ride for me. Instead of time to do homework, or to chat with friends, I had to wrestle to keep my adorable, fiery red haired, as-cute-as-you-could-ever-be-brother (believe me, he was cute), in his seat, and out of the aisles, and away from those who would tempt him to do.... stuff (that only would ever result in him getting in trouble). 

I was over my head, and out of my league. Then along came John's forever protector.  Actually there were two of them, but Brandon, Brandon saved me on a daily basis on the bus, as he guarded and watched over my brother. I could finally relax knowing that no one would infiltrate the wall that Brandon and the fellow protector made around my brother.

Years and years later, my chance to, (in a small way) repay Brandon happened.  My brother was in high school, and Brandon's younger sister, Bonnie, was in John's class.

"You know, John," I said to him, "Bonnie is Brandon's sister."
"I know."
"You know, Brandon took care of you. You need to take care of Bonnie. Don't let anything happen to her."
"I won't, Steph. I'll take care of her."

He did.

John, and his whole class loved Bonnie.  But John, my brother, my hero, took my words seriously.  Bonnie was his friend, and she was his responsibility. (Apparently to the point where he would not allow others to take her down the hallways. He was the only one allowed to push her down the hall--- his rules of course.)

"How is Bonnie?" I would ask.
"She's good."
"What do you do when she's in school with you?"
"We touch her face, and we touch her arms and her hands. We talk to her, and tell her we are there, and we sing to her."
"What do you sing?"
"My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean."
"Does she like it?"
"Oh, yes."
"How do you know."
"I just do, Steph. I just know."

He did. I believed him. He knew. 

It's no wonder then, to me, that when I drive by your family's old house, that I miss you, Brandon.  It's no wonder that when I go back to my memories of elementary school, that you are there. And, at times, when I see my brother, that I remember you.  And, it never fails that every time I do remember you, I smile, and then I grow sad, because I miss you.

And, while I miss the boy that you were, others miss you for the man that you became. And while I cry, over that boy who saved me for those years on the bus, your family and your friends cry, missing the man, the dad, the husband, the friend that you became.

Thank you, Brandon. One hundred times over.  Thank you.

We will love you forever. We will miss you for always.
You will always be in our hearts.

Crazy, Wide Eyes, with a Glue Gun in My Pocket

In my mind, I believe myself to be fairly creative.  Behind it I have a terribly wicked (not wicked-evil- wicked, but wicked "cool" wicked.....Is it even cool to say wicked now? Oh, whatev) imagination.  I'm not sure where it came from, but I'm sure it's part hereditary, part Nancy Drew, part Ramona, and, well real life! (Sometimes real life is too crazy it canNOT be imagined!)

I have been known to be found sitting on the floor (My first favorite place to sit in my living room is the floor) and to be surrounded with crafting supplies and materials and pictures.

My creative crafting side, unfortunately, has been thwarted over the last few years as I made a decision in the Spring off 2008 to go back to school.  As if all the years from Kindergarten through 12th grade in High School, and then 4 additional years of college were not enough, I determined that I needed a second dose of literacy torment.  I am 1 test, 2 partial classes, and 1 assignment away from being finished with this second dose of schooling.   I. Am. Ecstatic.  Summer is right before my eyes and I have visions of running and biking, writing, and crafting to my little heart's contentment all bouncing around in my head.

In addition, the internet, Facebook, and more importantly Pinterest (Oh, Beloved Pinterest) has opened my eyes to a whole gamut of ideas and projects.  Did I mention I was ecstatic??!?!

However, there is this tiny, tiny, teeny tiny speck, that is anticipating that I will miss school, miss the learning and the challenges.  How will I fill my time? What's it like to be a regular working person, and not a regular working person, and a full time college student??? I do not remember!!

Tonight, I spoke with my school mentor (my school adviser in short) about my plans for finishing up and my dreams of what's next.

"My mom has already threatened myself if I enroll in additional classes right after I'm finished...."

She laughed.  Then she stated the following statement, "You know that there is a Masters Program you can enroll in. It's only four classes. Not a standard Masters program. Six months and you're finished. Nothing compared to the classes you are completing now..."

Instantly, my mind starts moving and calculating.  Could I?  Should I? Did my mom really threaten me with physical violence?  Can my friends handle me, crazy, wide eyed, and homework laden for a few more months?  Maybe. Perhaps, just maybe.

First things first, before I move to the next task, I should finish my current program.  Then afterward, perhaps I should get elbows deep into a few fun projects, live as a regular worker person for a while and then decide. 

Crazy, wide eyed with a glue gun and some scissors, or sleep deprived and buried in a bed of books?  Both of the ideas are calling out to me.

For now, I better ignore them both, I've got some sleeping to do.  

Moving Forward, Living Backwards

Grace loved life. She loved the smell of grass when it was freshly mowed. She loved flowers and books and her friends. Of course, she loved her family too. She was happy.

Except...

Days could be difficult at times. She would wake up in the morning, and would get ready, the same as everyone else. She would have her shoes on her feet, and her backpack would be secure, and off she would go to school. She knew without a doubt that she would meet her friends at the corner and they would walk to their school building and the day of learning would begin. Life should have been good.

However, Grace's trouble began first thing in the morning. She would get out of bed, and on her way to the bathroom, would run into the wall. She would typically miss the bottom two steps of the staircase and land in a heap on the floor. She would trip over stones down the sidewalk. Cars would honk as she would be approaching and entering into the cross walk. Grace realized no one else had this difficulty. No one else was running into the wall. No one else was falling down the stairs. No one else was tripping over stones, and cars would not honk at her friends. The trouble with Grace? She walked backwards.

Backwards. Everyday and everywhere. Grace could not remember exactly when she started walking backwards. She did remember that it began the morning after a wonderful day. The day was bright and full of memories and laughter. Grace enjoyed that day so much that she turned around backwards all day long, every day, so that she could better remember it.

Other days came and went. She would have moments, seconds, minutes, maybe hours of greatness, but something was always holding her back from real bliss. While moving forward, Grace was living backwards. She was living in the past, walking through the future, missing every new and wonderful moment that would present itself. She did not see where she was going. She only saw where she had been and where she could never go again.

Grace missed being happy and laughing with her friends. How to solve the issue? Grace walked around thoughtfully, before she made a decision. Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would not walk backwards. She would move going in the right direction.

****************************

How many of us can say that we do the same? We lay in bed and remember what happened yesterday or last week. It could have been a wonderful, delightful event, but living in the past, prevents you from really living today and in the future. Maybe the event was torture. There is pain in the past, so much so that you are afraid of what would come next. However, living in the past prevents you from receiving wonderful blessings- and healing.

It is not easy. Life. It meets us head on each moment we open our eyes. However, there can be joy in the morning. There can be peace in the middle of a storm. Ask me how.

One thing's for sure though, driving down the road, staring only at the rear view mirror, will always land you in the ditch.

Mirror, Mirror.....

So not too long ago, (yesterday actually!) I had one of "those" days. You know the days, when despite how you really are looking, you feel like you look like you have green hair, and a big gigantic nose, and, two big feet and well...I'm sure you get the point.

Then, I remembered this:

"Your beauty should...be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit which of great worth in God's sight."

1 Peter 3:3,4

Could that be true? Honestly? The fact that I could be beautiful, DESPITE the warts and the frizzed hair? And, then God says, yup- that could be true.

Which that makes me think, how often does my inside shine outwardly and reveal my TRUE beauty? Often times, I think instead of showing beauty I show an uglier side (even worse than a bad hair day).

I am guilty. I am guilty of an ugly attitude. I am guilty of a frown, not only fixed on my face, but it is also evidenced by a wrinkle that makes its appearance whenever I crinkle my forehead. I will make a face, and roll my eyes. I will have an attitude at times that is anything, anything but beautiful.

So what is the fix? I can always put a masque on my face- but there's not a "masque" for my heart. I can buy a new shirt and don a new pair of shoes, but I cannot dress my heart in the latest fashions... The heart cannot wear Prada.

What is the answer to the ugly heart? The true fix for the wrinkle in the forehead? Who can truly put a sparkle in the eye?

"You were taught with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness."

Ephesians 4:22-24

In other words, it is time to change the wardrobe I tend to wear: the bad, cranky attitude, the selfish desires, and the like- all those things that WILL NOT appear beautiful when looking in the mirror. In its place, I need to clothe myself in a new attitude. A brighter attitude, wrinkle free, all smiles and patience.

That being said, we may think a brand new shirt is a good idea, however, a shirt is not necessarily going to make someone beautiful.

But Jesus will.

"We don't see things as they are, we see things as we are." -Anais Nin