A sense of smell

One breath was all it took...

Thank goodness, thank God, for this week! In my previous entry, I describe how God touched my heart on Saturday and somehow, removed the hurt and bitterness that had started to sink in. That feeling of freedom and relief has continued this week and has even multiplied!

One of my biggest praises this week is the way that God has assisted me in changing my attitude. Even if we are blessed beyond measure, with everything we could possibly need or want, it is still in our power to choose to turn our back on God and live in a place of bitterness.

It's so easy to get stuck in a place where we refuse to take responsibility for our attitudes or our lack of effort and blame everything on God. The truth is, God can save us. God can provide us with our needs and wants. He is capable of comforting and providing in times where we may not be able to do that for ourselves. The trick is....we have to trust Him. We have to turn to Him and believe that He will provide. Most importantly, we have to start feeling strength in God instead of feeling sorry for ourselves.

As I was walking on campus yesterday, I took a deep breath and was struck by a feeling I have not experienced since living in Florida. It smelled like home. That may sound strange but for me, smells have always been able to conger up memories like no other. And this smell, it was distinctly of home. It's as if God removed all of the barriers for my loving Him and loving Florida and now....I can see (and sniff) clearly.

Florida was never the culprit and He is allowing me to remove the clothes pin and sniff out my place here.

Amazing Grace

It Finally Clicked!

I have been praying for months (literally) that I would be able let go of some pretty heavy duty baggage I seemed to have picked up when I first moved to Florida. It's been a long haul and for anyone who knows me well, it's been evident. I've allowed myself to get really low, really often. I can, without hesitation or doubt, say that the wallowing has not helped my situation and if anything, has hindered me greatly.

I have no clue why God chose today to speak to me on such a profound and palpable level but, I suppose that's kind of the thing with God, you never know when He's going to bless you with clarity. To be honest, I am not going to waste a second of my time wondering why today was the day that the gears clicked clacked like a well oiled machine. I could care less about why today was significant because I have some truths that I'm laying my head down on tonight. Some incredibly significant truths that I've been blinded to for quite some time now.

I am here for a short time and God has incredible purpose for my life. Although I am but a grain of sand on a huge beach full of other tiny little grains, God sees me as if I were a diamond. I have an exceptional family and that includes all the wonderful friends I have from growing up in Indiana as well as some amazing people I've met so far in Florida.

So what's the point of me blathering on about all the blessings I have (by the way, I left out about a million for the sake of the length of the blog entry)?

If I wallow, if I choose to get all caught up (tangled, really) in "stuff" that doesn't amount to a hill of beans...I'm missing all the good stuff! I don't know how and I don't know why now but God let that thunderbolt hit me tonight and well....it feels pretty freaking awesome!

Thank you, God for having been patient with me during my idiocy since I moved here and for loving me enough to snap me out of it.

Me and my friend Walt

"My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the passing of blood and air through my lungs."

WW Song of Myself

Obvious to me, the connection between the lovely Mr. Walt Whitman and yours truly, for quite some time now. Brilliant in ways that I should hope to be, the man was able to vocalize what was internal, beat out of his chest what seemed incapable to unearth. As common among poets, he was a emptier. He would empty himself of thoughts, of creativity, of emotion...of functionality in an effort to rid himself of the heart that beat thump, thump, thumpity thump thump from within. I wonder if sometimes he emptied so much that he found it difficult to see himself clearly. If he ever looked at himself in the mirror of his secluded cabin only to be met by a blurry vision of the man that stood before the mirror...

My imperfections are evident. My flaws float to the surface, regularly, for each and all to see. Even when I attempt to gloss over the bumps in the road, fleeting seconds, and there they are in all their glory. I have stopped fighting the flaws because, well, quite frankly, it's damn exhausting. Of course, I strive to better myself but I have learned to hug tight those little annoying traits about myself because I'm a big collection of faults so why the hell not?

There's this one flaw, though, that I cannot seem to embrace. I cannot seem to get my short stubby arms wrapped tightly around this particular flaw. My hands won't clasp together behind its back, the way your hands clasp tightly when you love something so dearly that the thought of releasing it makes your stomach churn and burn up your throat. My inability to embrace this flaw comes from years of being bitten by it and listening to others warn me that its bite is as bone crushingly strong as its shrill bark.

My capacity to love.

And we're not talking about butterflies and rainbows kind of love. We're talking about the kind of love where I find myself crawling down into ditches that others have dug and begging them to begin slinging the dirt. It's innocent, really. My faith in others to change. I have not a clue where its birth place lies, except that its been with me since day one and it lives in the lowest place in my gut. That place deep in your person where that which creates the very fiber of your being nestles in for the long haul. It all sounds so gracious, so kind, so lovely. In reality, it's a bitch of epic proportions. The lectures, the "let me tell you something, Lizzy's," the "you'll learn when you get olders" they are the byproduct of this lovely vice I hold in my hands.

The funny thing is, I get it. I, contrary to how I may appear when faced with any conundrum of the technical variety, am a pretty smart one. At least, when it comes to introspection, I've got that ground covered two fold (probably three.) It's not that I don't see the error of my overly nurturing, worrisome ways. It's that I have no idea how the hell to go about changing the beast into a beauty.

How do you shut off a faucet when you can't see the dial? I don't know how to keep my arms from flinging open. And such, in the words of my friend Walt, is life...

This week's forecast

Calmer seas ahead...

Kate came to visit this weekend and I had an absolute blast! We have known each other our whole lives, which makes it impossible to feel anything less than completely comfortable. We had great conversations full of updates about her new little one, her loving husband and all the changes that having said little one brings to life. It was so awesome to see the love in her eyes when she talked about her "little puffin" and the family she and her hubby have created. Naturally, we laughed until we cried and talked our little hearts out about what life has brought our way throughout the journeys we are on.

Kate asked me a few questions that necessitated some difficult answers this weekend and when we were finished with the conversation, she said, "Lizzy, I want to tell you something. You're going to be fine. Some things have happened here that have been really unfortunate and I am sorry you had to go through them. You know what to avoid in the future now and sometimes we have to make really stupid mistakes so that we can learn from them."

I felt like God had pulled up a chair in the chat and was using Kate as a tangible comfort. Sometimes, the sea gets so choppy that we lose sight of the horizon and forget that there's a beautiful sunrise in store for us when the weather breaks. I've started to see a break in the clouds, allowing a little sliver of light to escape in the last couple of months. Kate's ability to verbalize what I didn't even know I needed to hear gave me even more excitement about the day where the clouds will disappear completely and I'll have to wear my favorite shades to protect my eyes from the glare!

Forgiveness is such a difficult thing for me and I'm not sure how long it will take me to forgive the people I made the mistake of trusting when I first moved to the sunshine state. I am confident though that God is softening my heart to the idea of forgiveness. Having Kate here to laugh with, lay on the beach with, girl chat with and all of the lovely things that come along with a girl's weekend, helped me realize that God's blessings are plentiful in my life. Piece by piece, He's allowing me to feel His embrace by putting friends and family in my life who are willing to help me rebuild what has been shattered and move the heck on.

After all, God never says that the storms won't rage and our boats won't get racked. He just promises to help us bail our boats and re-direct our paths towards the horizon!

30's

"That's what your 20's are for. You're 30's are to learn your lessons. You're 40's are to pay for the drinks."

I turned 30 years old 11 months ago. I always thought turning 30 would be a more significant event for me. I thought my mentality would change and I would begin to manifest those changes in my lifestyle. It seems...I am a little late to the party on this one. I am fairly certain that it is impeccably less fashionable to arrive 11 months late than say, 20 minutes but alas, I am here. Traffic was a bitch.

A whole gamut of things to "blame" but much time has been wasted expressing my thoughts on that topic so I'm choosing to move on. Thirty passed me by but lately, she's rounded the corner and she is an insistent little thing.

Although my over-active mind has always allowed me to fantasize about living out my ideals in big ways, my ability to procrastinate has aided me well in my pursuits of not actually doing anything. Lately though, the fire in my belly has reached a boiling point. Action is now, simply put, unavoidable.

Netflix on demand is a lovely invention. An invention that has allowed me to indulge my love for all things documentary about food, health, global warming, the food industry, etc.. My perfect escape from what I know I need to do and what I don't know how to do is to watch other people do it. Somehow, I trick myself, if only for a hour or so, into feeling engaged and involved.

Recently, I had my blood pressure taken and it was high. Just typing this sentence makes me realize that I am not a kid anymore. The fact that I'm even thinking about my blood pressure and in turn, writing about it, is mind blowing to me. My first thought when she told me? No shit. No shit my blood pressure is high. I could have told you that without the dial. Living in a near constant state of stress tends to do that to a person. Now, I know that I've always been a little "keyed up" but since my move to Florida, it's been encompassing.

In an effort to calm my mind by calming my body and learn to let the shit go and focus on the farmer's market....I'm gonna put my ideals in action and start the wheels turning. I am choosing to make my triumphs (and struggles) public here on my blog so that I can share my experiences on the road to equilibrium.

Schooled

"The most useful of learning for the uses of life is to unlearn what is untrue."

Antisthenes

Repeated lessons are profoundly effective. When we stumble time and again over the same boulder in the walkway, we tend to become fed up with the process of getting banged up and learn to walk around the road block.

Re-charting the territory a bit and creating pathways in which new lessons can be learned. Positive lessons. Happy lessons. Lessons that are the making of butterflies, rainbows, puppies and all things shiny.

Consistently a proponent of instruction that encompasses all learning styles, I'm apparently not a fan of the being disrespected in my own home variety. Who would have thought....

Kicking the damn boulder out of the way and watching it shatter into a trillion insignificant little pebbles.

Redefining Communication

Are we redefining communication or stifling it?

In an over-communicative world, one has to wonder…have we communicated ourselves right out of something to say? Have we murdered the art of conversation down to abbreviations and symbols that will fit into one text message? While avoiding data-plan overage charges is a thrifty idea indeed, I worry that we may be robbing ourselves of true substance.

In addition to the instantaneous nature of personal communication, we’re suffering from other abbreviated forms of communication as well. If, during the few seconds it takes us to sign into our email accounts, we don’t see a shocking or moving headline scroll; do we even think to read the news? Have we become so accustomed to being spoon-fed that we fail to realize the reward of digging?

Today, I remembered an assignment I had in high school where, for economics class, we were told to keep a close eye on the economic nature of our country. In order to facilitate the important lesson, we were asked to subscribe to the Wall Street Journal. I had to wonder; do students these days get the pleasure of inked fingertips and the smell of the word press? Or, are they in their self-sufficient bedrooms, seated comfortably in front of a glowing screen, hoping to find just enough information to complete their assignment; all the while, attempting to make it look as though they understand the information?

As I scrolled through the homepage of my facebook account today, I found myself debating the pros and cons of this phenomenon. I cannot, even with my closet hippie tendencies exposed, proclaim that this form of communication is all bad. After all, most likely, I will post the link to my blog on facebook as soon as I hit the submit button. The fact that I’m writing in a blog at all is evidence that I too feel the urging for my voice to be heard. But has it cheapened sentiment? Is a “Happy Birthday” or “Congratulations, you’re {insert important life event}!” really the same pumped through facebook for all to see?

As I completed tasks around my apartment this weekend, I became acutely aware of my attachment to my cell phone. I love hearing from those that I hold dear in my life but when I add it up, I am fairly certain that the efficiency of my chores would considerably increase if I wasn’t at the beck and call of a text alert.

And full circle…

Is our society so obsessed with instant communication that we ourselves have single handily held the assault weapon to conversation, unknowingly? Have we advanced so far in the “instant” that when we’re in the presence of others, we’re all tapped out of things to say? After all, how many times have you heard someone (or yourself) say, “Did you read my post on facebook?” only to be answered with, “Oh yeah, that was funny, I can’t believe that happened to you!” I find that these moments are quickly followed by a labored pause and a fleeting thought of “well, there goes that story.” Are we so quick to click on “status update” that we lose the update all together?

Just something to chew on for awhile…

There's good stuff here...

Step back....look around....drink it in.....

I have to confess that the title of the blog is actually a quote from one of my favorite shows. During the spiral down of a once sparkling connection, the man pauses as he walks out the door and says, "There's good stuff here."

I've always been a firm believer that if you were, at one time, truly in love with someone or something or some place, remnants of that force will remain with you always. Pieces will break off as the years roll forward and float into corridors of your mind that may not receive much attention but that person or thing or place will remain loved on some level.

I'm not suffering from a break-up but lately, I have been suffering from a lack of connection with this place that I was once so enamored with that I picked up and moved. Losing sight of the beauty and allowing myself to feel as if everything has gone to shit. Apologies, there's not lady like way to say that particular truth. A version of tunnel vision descended and all I have been able to see is the ugly that the sandy beaches do a darn good job of covering up for the tourists.

The truth is, there is ugly everywhere, if that's what you choose to focus on.

Even in...gasp...my beloved home state, Indiana. The emotional connection I have with so many that still live there is what allows me to think of Indiana as this magical place where everyone is kind, everyone can be trusted and no one ever flakes out on you.

I have read a few articles lately about transitioning from where you grew up to a far away land that you chose to move to. I have particularly focused on articles that chronicled the experience of those that chose to do that "alone" or as a single little one. It seems that the cold, hard facts point to the fact that this type of transition is just plain difficult. It's takes well over a year to establish a sense of home somewhere when you're building from nothing.

Shockingly, contrary to my typical patient nature, I haven't been patient with this process or the people that surround me.

Put the hostility down and step away, Liz. No one is saying that where you grew up isn't awesome. That doesn't mean that Florida can't be awesome too.

3 wishes...

"Everything you have, inside and out, can be stolen from you if you allow it to be."

So much more than material possessions. I like my bed, my computer, my chair, don't get me wrong. But these things are just that....things. What I like even more is my ability to reason and conclude from the information around me. The gift that God has given me to deduce reality in situations and act accordingly. Three truths I came upon this weekend:

1) Cigarette companies and their executives could quite possibly be wealthy (or become so) at the hand of my health and risking of life. A truth that got me through a craving today that was so fierce, I found myself pissed at nothing. But I came out on the other side of the craving, not having puffed away on something that literally has no positive attribute.

2) A week ago, I started to embrace my love of eating at home and treating my body well with "whole foods" again. Nothing fancy or impressive but it hasn't been processed. I have enjoyed both the fiscal savings of not sitting in a circular line around a cookie cutter building for half of my lunch break AND the fact that my body has felt better.

3) My opinion, if true and holistically cultivated by yours truly is not up for debate. When I say I feel something, I am not inviting the verdict as to whether others are functioning in common thought.

And so...my health, emotionally and physically is a blessing that I've been given. It's about darn time I started taking care of both. This process of rebuilding may not be easy but after the year I've had...I'm pretty sure I'm up for anything!

Thank you, Lord, for your blessings and ability to change that which has not been working since June 2010.

Love is a Shelter.....

"Love is a shelter, in a raging storm. Love is peace in the middle of a war."

I absolutely adore the song "Love is Not a Fight" by Warren Barfield. I've loved it ever since I heard it first in the film "Fireproof" and then at my friends' wedding. It's a beautiful song that talks about love being a house that we enter in to, committing to never leave.

For me, it's always spoken to the level of commitment God has to loving us and the commitment he urges us towards in our relationship with Him; obviously, it can be applied to relationships with one another as well.

There's a line from the song that says, "And if we try to leave, may God send angels to guard the door." When I listened to the song tonight, it really struck me that whether life is easy or difficult, whether our days are short and sweet or long and challenging, God calls us to the same level of obedience. He calls us to that level of obedience because He loves us and He knows that we need Him in order to be truly satisfied and at peace in life.

I have continually attempted to challenge this notion, unintentionally. I'm not sure why, exactly but I am sure it comes down to a general feeling of undeserving. Why would God want me to be His child? We all wonder that from time to time because we know how imperfect we are. The beauty is that God began loving us prior to even creating us and that means that He knew exactly how annoyingly rebellious or dreadfully questioning we were going to be. He knew it and yet, He loved us enough to create us and send His son to death for us.

Life is unbelievably beautiful when looking through the lens I have been given as God's child.

Thank you Jesus, for your love and your forgiveness. Someday, we'll laugh about my foolishness....

Throwing darts in the dark....

"Writing is a form of personal freedom. It frees us from the mass identity we see in the making all around us. In the end, writers will write not to be outlaw heroes of some under culture but mainly to save themselves, to survive."

An octopus whose tentacles were detached in a tragic accident. A cat whose whiskers were singed off when curiosity got the best of him with that sweet smelling candle.

Writing sustains this little soul and allows me to feel my way through the dark.

Sometime in the last few months, I stopped courting writing, however handsome he was to me at one time. I stopped making him dinner. I stopped telling him how dashing he looked in his smile. I allowed him to whither from lack of attention...from neglect.

Shame on me.

There's a scene from a movie where a woman describes the need for a man in a remote village to create a totem pole. She details his conversations about how the creation of the totem pole allowed him to fill a hole in his heart. She admits that she cried when she saw it, standing tall and carefully carved before her.

A visually artistic bone does not exist within my being. I'd force that realization upon my friends and family by taking art classes and sending my "works" across the country to sit atop mantles but...I love everyone too much for that madness.

My totem pole may not be visually striking but striking it is nonetheless. It is my personal belief that we are not given choices as to those things in life with which we are granted the ability to do with great ease. Writing happens to be a choice I was given.

As I sat mesmerized by a new album I acquired this weekend, I almost felt as if I was sitting in my old bedroom in high school. Hours spent listening to music (some good, thanks to the musical tastes of my family. Some, not so good thanks to youth and idiocy). The lyrics were what grabbed me. The words of someone who I never had the opportunity to meet (I'm holding out for a dinner date, Ben) somehow wiggled and wormed their way into my chest and compressed and released.

I read an article recently where the author purely and simply gave an urging to souls floating who felt as though writing were their insides. He said, "Write for no pay. Spill the guts of who you are onto paper or keyboards whenever you can. Tell your story or the story of others as if someone will one day give a shit. It matters. It all matters. What's floating around in there? It has substance because it is. So write without the paycheck and click clack those heels together the day someone offers you one."

Building totem poles one letter at a time.

Does it really?

" Come on now! No one is a one dimensional piece of art. Everyone is one of those mixed media pieces. You know the kind I'm talking about. Those canvases that have all that shit on them? The ones where you stand there and wonder if you're seeing painted bristles or hair. We're all one of those."

When I heard this quote today, it immediately made me laugh out loud like a crazie in my tiny studio...sound bellowing off the walls and floors at a deafening intensity. It made me laugh because I think we all have moments where we surprise ourselves with our own thoughts. I find myself physically reacting to those thoughts sometimes, as if I am in shock of my own hamster wheel. It's humorous really, when you think about it. That you can know people for years upon years and yet find yourself in a wine-shooting-from-nostril situation as they verbally spew their innards over dinner.

I like knowing that even my own words and actions surprise me at times. It's even more entertaining than being shocked by others. I mean..you kind of expect to be surprised by thoughts that don't originate within your being, you know? If you are able to pull rabbits out of your own hats and find yourself gagging on handkerchiefs you weren't aware you swallowed, that's pretty damn amazing, if you ask me.

I started thinking about things that I was surprised by and came up with a list of five before my attention was grabbed by a Band of Horses song:

5) Even with a degree in hospitality and a love of cooking, I would take a Totino's Party Pizza over any five star spread any day.

4) Sometimes, I crave thunderstorms here like I craved sunshine in Indiana.

3) I don't feel the need to express everything and I'm pretty sure that will stick with me through all the days.

2) I am a sucker for Lloyd Dobler and I'd pretty much melt for a boom box situation, even if it is a little creepy when you really think about it.

1) When people ask me what my favorite music is, I get legitimately stressed out.

"Um...you're real but you hide it well? That didn't make you feel better, did it?"

Looking in from the outside

"Every form of addiction is bad, no matter whether the narcotic be alcohol, or morphine or idealism."

It's so easy to let the glasses slip to the end of our slightly turned up noses and judge. When we cannot, for all the thinking and over thinking in the world, wrap up the actions of others into understandable, delectable little packages, our instinct is to judge.

An innate response to that which we cannot understand. Judgement, however prickly and ugly we may know it to be, is fostered in us from birth.

Interestingly enough, judgement can serve us impeccably well in instances where we judge our surroundings or actions as negative and run screaming in the opposite direction. That kind of assumptive thought is an element necessary to survival for which we should be thankful. On the underbelly, however, judgement can scoop us up, grasping directly under our arms, and float us neatly to a resting place atop pedestals for which we are unfit to stand.

I came across this quote when I was reading an article the other day (listed above) and for whatever reason, the matter between my shoulders hasn't been able to release it from the grips. It struck me in a palpable way, this notion that addiction is imbalanced and, in my opinion sad, in whatever form it lives and breaths.

Sometimes, I imagine addiction as a little troll, dwelling right behind the flower patch that's so tempting to stick your nose into and take a deep breath. Just patiently waiting to reach up with grubby little troll hands and replace the flower with poison the minute your eyes close in an attempt to fully appreciate the scent.

However you look at it, whatever your opinion or lack of opinion may be, whether you've spent hours or seconds thinking about addiction, I think we can all agree that addiction is a nasty beast.

The interesting element to addiction is that it robs not only the addict but all those that love and admire that addict, of that person. Losing someone while standing face to face with them is a completely different kind of loss. This tangible loss in indescribable. Watching a person melt before your eyes as if you were indulging in a midnight showing of The Wizard of Oz is an experience that haunts you.

The haunting is strongest when you allow yourself to question not only the motivations of the lost but also the motivations of the remaining. When you begin to investigate the demise from angles scientist everywhere would be proud of and are repeatedly left empty handed, the loss turns on you like a trick mirror in a fun house.

The who-it's and what-it's and why-it's of addiction will always be with me. Grieving the loss of someone who still walks and talks has been an out of body experience from which I am certain I have learned something; yet uncertain of exactly what that lesson may be.

For now...I find myself grateful that I am beginning the process of separating the addiction from the person and accepting sad facts to be sad facts.

Tackling the why-it's? I'll leave that for another day.

Laryngitis

Patience is a virtue...

You know the drill. You go to the beach and have a great day only to come home with that nagging feeling of water in your ear. So...you stand in the middle of your living room, tilt your head to one side and jump up and down praying that the annoying pressure will dissipate. If that doesn't work, you will try just about anything to alleviate this nagging issue resulting in you searching "creative" cure-alls on the Internet in the middle of the night.

That's pretty much how I'm feeling today although it's not swimmers ear that is causing an issue. My issue is the plight of the square peg in the round hole. You know, I've heard that phrase countless times throughout my life yet I've never felt the phrase or identified with it like I find myself doing these days.

The other day, I was talking to good friend of mine here in Florida and we started talking about how different we were but how much both of us enjoyed our friendship, regardless. I meant it. This person has become someone that I truly enjoy being around and I find myself deeply grateful for the friendship we've shared. When we started chatting about this, however, I couldn't help but think about how I feel that "difference" between myself and everyone I am surrounded by here in Florida. I think that's probably why I've learned so much this year...because I am consistently surrounded by lovely people who are incredibly different from me. Who were raised differently. Who hold different values dear to their hearts. Who think differently. Feel differently. Eat differently. Relax differently. Recharge differently.

While the differences are beautiful and have been a blessing, there are days where I feel exhausted by them. I made a commitment to myself that I would be open to new experiences when I moved to Florida and with the exception of a few regrets, I have done just that.

A few months ago, someone I hold in rather low regard told me that I was "anti-social." Initially, I was upset by the comment later, chalking it up to just another lie to fall from lips incapable of being truthful. However, when I think about it, I realize that I may come off that way sometimes here. In groups of people, I find myself just kind of sitting back and taking it all in, rarely contributing to the conversation. When I do feel as though I have something pertinent to say, I am usually stepped on by the verbal pitter patter of others and my words are lost so I just continue to observe. I don't resent it but it is difficult to swallow sometimes because it's not how it's always been.

I started laughing the other day when I thought of that movie, "The Nanny Diaries" (yes I've seen it, laugh all you want) where Scarlet Johansson considers herself an anthropologist as she begins to nanny for a wealthy family because the lifestyle varies so much from what she is familiar with. I relate to that is so many ways. Like I am an observer, here to experience a new lifestyle and write about it. I have to wonder if I've taught anyone anything down here. I keep my mouth shut so often that it's hard to think I've influenced anyone, positively or negatively.

There are so many positives to stretching yourself in this way. The only negative aspect I have noticed is that sometimes, I am tempted to turn into a selfish child with my hands on my hips and my heels embedded in the sand screaming, "I want to do what I want to do for once!!" It's an ugly quality but it bubbles up from time to time, which is when I spend the day by myself doing things that are familiar and comfortable. Shattering one's comfort zone is good but there are moments where cocooning is necessary.

I have found a lot of comfort in the notion of patience and waiting on God's timing for things to feel more comfortable here for me. I do believe that I was led to Florida for a reason and I am attempting to remain patient and quiet until I begin to understand exactly why. I am so blessed!

"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law."

Galatians 5:22-23

Humbled

"I stand before you, Lord

Humbled by the love You give away.

A widow's mite, my will and pride,

It's all I have to offer anyway."

I find myself in a perpetual state of humility this week that I cannot seem to break away from. At times, I've felt like every corner I round brings with it another unexpected gift. I know that I am a good person and that I attempt to do my best each day but I am humbled by the blessings falling down all around me because I know, deep down that I am not exactly worthy of God's love. So...I am humbled and thankful that He's so gracious!

I've had big and small gifts this week and to be honest, I am as thankful for the seemingly minute gifts as I am for the larger than life ones. I have been truly blessed by a new position that has fed me professionally and personally through various avenues but the happiness from this one "little" change seems to be flowing throughout my life these days!

I feel driven for the first time in months. My to-do list that normally simply continues to grow is being added to and diminished simultaneously. I feel direction and guidance from God in a way that I have felt few times throughout my life. There are certain aspects of the direction that are interesting and somewhat confusing for me like the way I feel distant from those things which had come to be familiar. I remain confident though that this distance is guided and necessary.

I spent the weekend realizing that my "worry" list was dwindling. Yes..that's right...I have a worry list. You know, a list of items that I continuously worry about whenever I have a free moment. This week has made it clear as a bell just how distant I had become from those things which center me. Being me. Being happy. Being settled. Feeling safe. These things have made me realize how uprooted and unprotected I have felt for the past few months. Thank God for His love or I could have lived under that enormous pressure indefinitely.

Florida and my life here feels different now in such a penetrating, steadfast way...and it's about time!!

Hit me.

"You've got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away, know when to stay."

Warning: This entry may be similar to watching a hummingbird flutter from flower to flower. If you are prone to motion sickness, you may want to forgo reading any further!

First things first, I am freaking blessed! No bones about it, people, this little lady does not deserve the shower of good things that come her way. Although the past few weeks have been a whirlwind, leaving me with a slight case of whiplash...I could not be more grateful or humbled by the love that God has shown me. My being less than perfect provides ample opportunity for me to wonder why God continues to click clack the pieces into place but alas, I am grateful for the puzzle pieces that fit.

A month ago, I planned to return to Indiana at the close of the school year. I felt like Florida was a beautiful place but just not the place for me. It wasn't what I thought it would be and I was pretty confident it would never be. So....I planned, planned, planned my little heart out and started making arrangements to return to the state that nurtured my first thirty years and the people that made those years worth writing about.

Screech! The brakes went on, the dust flew and I was left standing at a crossroads with a big neon sign flashing over head "Decision...Decision...Decision." I received a call from a position I had applied for prior to making the decision to return home. Great. Just great. Here I was thinking that everything was packaged nicely with a bow on top and now you call me for an interview. Leaping out in faith, I scheduled the interview and told myself that I was just investigating all avenues before moving to Indiana. In the depths of my stomach, I had this urgent feeling that this call was God's way of telling me that maybe Florida held more than I had imagined. First the phone interview and then the campus interview. I drove home truly professionally inspired and knew that I would have a handful of a conundrum if the position was offered. A few nerve racking days later, I was offered the position.

As if that's not enough...I just spent the last week enjoying my parent's company in the Sunshine State. Every time I have visitors here in Florida, I am initially reminded of how blessed I am to have the family and friends I do. An appreciation for Florida always sinks in shortly after seeing the beauty that exists here through the eyes of others. I had great talks with my parents, laughed with them, ate tons of yummy food with them and enjoyed the freedom of hugging them whenever I wanted to!! Over and over again during their visit I told them how lucky I felt to be blessed with parents like them all the while understanding that I could never truly verbalize how much I love each of them.

And so, Florida, once again you have surprised me and allowed me to discover the beauty that you hold. I start my new position on Monday knowing that life is funny and ever-changing and oh so good!

I am okay

Sometimes it's good to realize the relativity of life..

I am comprised, as eveyone is of moving parts and waving emotions. Sometimes up, sometimes down and sometimes not knowing which way is up or down. Life has been kind to me, in the grand scheme of things. God has watched over my steps, both those I've taken with His guidance as well as those I've taken with an "I got this, let me handle it" way about me. When I look at my life and take stock of what it has been comprised of, I smile. Some of the negative experiences are too close to the surface to laugh at quite yet but all the experiences make me smile because I know they are being used in my grand life plan. I may never pull from these experiences and directly apply them in the future but....they exist within me now and I am undoubtably shaped by them.

I have spent the greater part of my life over analyzing the goings on of events, attempting to learn what was intended. I doubt this habit will change much in the future although that would be a nice change of events! There are still various moments that I can't quite fit into the "this was for this" category but alas, I may never know. It is a blessing from God that I have allowed the beauty to over shadow the ugly. I am blessed to have the beauty, after all.

I have learned that what people show you through their actions is all you can believe them to be. While a whimsical notion exists in the desire to view individuals in terms of potential is tempting, I have learned that what a person identifies with is often times very different from how they treat the world around them. I am excited for the healing that lies around the corner and for the day where laughter will replace the disppointment I have been feeling in people lately.

In all ways, God is good to me and even when the disppointment flutters, He allows the laughter to bellow as well. So blessed, this little lady is, so blessed!!

Rescued, once again

Realizing the influence...

I always love putting photos on my blog because I love looking at others' photos and assume everyone else does as well. Today, I am fresh out of photos because you can't pictorially document what is unseen in life. I found myself wondering this weekend if God ever gets tired of watching me walk directly into the lions den all the while reassuring him that I have everything under control. I am confident that the God I serve loves me unconditionally in the all encompassing way that is simply indescribable but there are days when I wonder if He looks down at me with a perplexed, almost at wits end expression on His face. I am so very grateful that I know Him to be a loving being that looks at my faults and still sees beauty.

He has saved me, once again from my own demise and for that, I wish there were a gift large enough to say thank you! I wish I had gift bags glitsy enough and bows big enough to wrap a thank you gift for Him. I find myself feeling all too lucky and humbled that the gift He truly wants is well within my reach. Loyalty and a willingness to follow His path. It's pretty amazing that even when I insist on making decisons with no guidance from Him, He waits patiently for me to look over my shoulder and say, "this way, right?" Sometimes, I find myself shocked to see His head shaking "no" because I could have sworn I was on the right pathway. Other times, I insist on resisting the temptation to ask because I already know the answer.

I have learned very poignant lessons in my walk with God, the largest perhaps being that I can be a good person and still not be following His intended will. I can be kind and giving and yet, God's plans still may differ from my plans. This is always a difficult lesson for me to learn becuase I am stupendous at rationalizing my actions. Kindness and love are beautiful traits, don't get me wrong. The beauty of God's plans though is that He has intended purposes for each of our beautiful traits and it requires a load of obedience to live those purposes out.

I spent my drive to work this morning praying that God would allow my heart and mind to be open to His plans. I prayed that He would awaken my heart to His love and grace.

"Ask and it will be given to you. Seek and you will find. Knock and the door will be opened to you." Matthew 7:7

So, Naturally...

Lately, I have been feeling under the weather. I have had the pleasure of hosting a wicked kidney infection for which my patience is running quite thin. I began my second round of antibiotics today which doesn't exactly make me happy however, I feel as though my hands are tied. As per usual when I have time to think think think, I thought my way around the recent months while attempting to rest off this infection today.

I am fairly certain that the high fever I've been rocking has something to do with my impeccable ability to over think the little details of life. However, I must give credit where credit is due and thank God for the ability to critically think about one's actions and decisions. Turn on NPR or scroll through the various news channels assaulting the waves and you're sure to see evidence that there are, in fact, individuals that do not house the ability to critically evaluate their actions or decisions. A sad but painfully true reality.

I am confident that there will never be a time in my life where I will be living 100% in accordance with my ideals. Simply stated, that is just an impossible feat. However, I could be doing a heck of a lot better and that's where the juice comes in. Why in the heck would a person find it necessary to take a photo of recently purchased fruit juice and post it on their blog? One defense could be the fever. In all seriousness, I realized today, as I seemingly unsuccessfully nursed my body back to health, that I had stumbled a bit when it came to my values on the treatment of the earth and my body. So...instead of running out to the grocery and grabbing juice from concentrate, I treked to the store and took my time picking out juice that was actually... juice. In addition to the nutritional content, the juice is bottled in glass which while it takes a ton of energy to create, glass can be reused endlessly which lends itself to numerous reincarnations in my household.

I enjoy being relaxed and living my life in a manner where the little things remain little. However, I also feel that a certain amount of apathy has creeped in which is a reality I have the power to change... as well as the motivation. Thank the fever, the infection or the universe.

I'm going to go drink my juice.

Putting on the big girl pants

One leg at a time...

There are moments within each day where I find myself inspired by the noise that surrounds me. Creativity is a precocious little lady and she will lift her skirt up and twirl around the room, tapping her mary janes together incessantly if you let her. I have found it best to allow her the freedom to sing at the top of her lungs or plunge her hand into the bucket, forcing paint deep into her nail bed. After all, when she smiles, I find it difficult to oppress the corners of my mouth into the frowning position.

There is one, giant, overwhelming challenge I have discovered which accompanies my willingness to serve as guardian to lady creativity. She lacks a certain decorum and focus which at times inspires brilliance and at others...supports dissension among the ranks. Never being one for conflict or enforcement, I am beginning to think of myself as a lady in need of assistance. Thankfully, many authors and artists alike are here to help my efforts of honing in and harnessing talents that could send creativity flying into space, shattering the very beauty from whence she came.

In my searching, I found an article about a 365 day: Creative Journal. Many people around the globe are adopting the philosophy that creativity not only fosters a healthier mindset but a healthier future as well. One of the most important notions, as apparently, I am in the business of slinging opinions this evening, is that "art" can be pivotal and significant. It can express eons of emotion and shake foundations into eventual movement. But "art" can also be seemingly insignificant as well.

Often, the perception determines the value, if allowed. Artist know better and find confidence that the value is intrinsic in nature. For now, this artist feels pretty freaking stoked to be opening herself up to the process.