Tuesday, January 24, 2012

the message

I needed to hear this, so I thought you might, too.

Read it slowly.

Marinate in it.

Each line, line by line.

This is what He's saying to you.

But now, God's message,

the God who made you in the first place,

the One who got you started:

Don't be afraid, I've redeemed you.

I've called your name.

You're mine.

When you're in over your head, I'll be there with you.

When you're in rough waters, you will not go down.

When you're between a rock and a hard place, it won't be a dead end--

Because I am God,

your personal God,

the Holy One of Israel,

your Savior.

I paid a huge price for you. 

That's how much you mean to me.

That's how much I love you.

I'd sell off the whole world to get you back,

trade the creation just for you.

So don't be afraid: I'm with you.

(Isaiah 43:1-5)
Monday, January 16, 2012

I want to see mountains again, Gandalf

After much deliberation, I have decided not to go to Denmark.

You have no idea how painful it is for me to type this.

You see, a couple of friends of mine are going to Denmark at the end of January. Saturday night, they invited me to go with them.

Did you know that a round-trip flight to Denmark only costs $750?

There's a big part of me that says, "Screw responsibility & practicality." If Gandalf were here, he would look at me beneath his bushy eyebrows and spit amongst his beard, "Fly, you fools!" It's not even a debate: You are tired, and weary, and you've been staring at pictures of mountains for the past week because you desperately want to have an adventure that does not include figuring out new ways to rearrange your closet and finding a hat you forgot you had.

Then the other part of me says, "You have rent to pay, and you need things like food and gas, and if you take a vacation now, you won't be able to take another vacation for 10 months."

That's the part of me that's kind of winning out a little bit. Today I even tried to console myself by saying to myself, "Heather, if you don't go to Denmark, you can buy something special for yourself. Like those cutting boards at Macy's that you like so much."

Yeah, that'll be cool. I won't go to Denmark, and instead I'll buy some cutting boards. Great suggestion, self. Then whenever I start to feel restless, I'll just take out my cutting boards and...cut some broccoli. Won't that feel better?

Someday I'll go somewhere out of the country.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

my father's daughter

My dad made me take sips of his coffee while I was growing up, even though I hated it, because he didn't want to be the only person in the family who drank coffee. Now I love it and he doesn't have to drink alone. I think that was the start of his training me to be like him.

He also taught me to play the guitar.
Me: "Dad, I don't always understand what you're trying to tell me."
Dad: "I said augmented, not diminished, stupid."

Any form of ridiculousness I have comes from him.
Mom: "Are the neighbors who took you in when you were locked out, are their names Peggy and Phil?"
Me, remembering being locked out and walking to the neighbor's in my socks: "Yes."
Mom: "They seem nice."
Me, remembering introducing myself and asking them to use their phone and phonebook in my socks: "They are."
Dad: "They have nice grass."

That's not to say we don't have our differences.

For example, he's not always as affectionate as I am.
My thought processes: "Dad, please adjust your comfort level so that I can be as close to you as I possibly can because in my mind I am still small enough to fit in your recliner with you and I want to always be really really close to you."
His thought processes: "I am happy to be in the same room with you; I do not need you to be breathing so close to my face."
My thought processes: "All right, I will sit over here [and try not to feel hurt that you don't want me really really close to you], but some part of me still needs to be touching you so that I can still feel connected to you in some way."
His thought processes: "Your fingers are so cold I can feel them through my shirt sleeve."
My thought processes: "This is nice, isn't it?"

But he's taught me a lot - about excellence, and hanging pictures straight, and how to love Jesus, and loving people, and using duct tape.

My mom told me that one year when we were kids, she wasn't sure how they were going to afford our Christmas presents. Then she found out that all summer my dad had been collecting things from garage sales and cleaning them up to give to us as presents. I treasure that story as a vivid display of my dad's thoughtfulness, provision, and love. I hope I continue to grow to be more like him in the years to come.

How do you show love to those you love?
Sunday, January 8, 2012

newyear schmewyear

You know when you're really hungry, and you eat something that you didn't really enjoy, so you want to just keep eating because, gosh darn it, even though you're full, you're not really satisfied? This mint chocolate chip ice cream is not really that good...therefore I have to eat the entire carton in order to make up for what a small bowl of really good mint chocolate chip ice cream would've done for me. Right?

That's how I feel about winter.

I'm having a hard time not listening to Christmas music.

I put away my Christmas decorations (they're not very far - there's not really an "away" part of my little apartment) & have strategically placed my Christmas presents in their proper places (which mostly means "my stomach").

I'm watching the Falcons & the Giants, neither of whom I care about, but if I close my eyes and just listen to the crowds, whistles, and audibles, I can pretend it's a few seasons ago when the Colts were actually a team and I used to watch them and they used to win.

It is not cold outside.

It just doesn't feel like winter.

I would like for it to snow. Not the "Oh it's snowing! And now it's 60 degrees" type snow. I want it to snow.

I mean, I'm not saying it has to look like this:

But it wouldn't hurt.

I don't even know what Kentucky would do with that kind of snow.

The sun is great and all, but clouds are also God's creation. And who are we to praise Him for one type of creation over another? I feel gypped.

I mean, I can't even wear my wool socks because my feet are already sweaty most of the time.


Boo. >:(
Sunday, January 1, 2012

happy new year


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