Thoughts while Traveling

Miscommunication can put hearts through a paper shredder if the Enemy gets a foothold. Hearts that had a chance, and yet in the long aftermath of the battle the future of connection is grim. And yet we move on, God redeeming all that is lost. He is so good at that.

Changes are happening... and I am talking about my hair salon.

The Street's of Norfolk have a big weekend coming up. Tonight we are seeing Coldplay at the Virginia Beach Amphitheater, and tommorow after work we head to Johnston, SC to pick up Theo - who as you can see, is growing rapidly. The breeder has been so helpful and she's been great about sending us updated pics of him. I think he knows his name already! We can't wait. Then to Charlotte to see the Jewett fam for a hot minute, and back home on Sunday to host the biggest party of the year- which of course is Todd's birthday bash.

Life is good and we are blessed. I love living in an old "haunted" house (at least Nicole thinks so) She is already planning a crazy Halloween party -

Still waiting on a big confirmation. Just when you think you are being rewarded for your patience, a little more is required. Taking it all in stride. God's timing is always better than mine- I don't doubt that for a second. Time will tell.

Last week I was surprised and touched by a few unexpected emails from long lost friends. Sometimes we think that because our lives are completely different and we are no longer the people we once knew as each other, we are too far removed. Twas nice to be proven wrong. You know who you are- thanks for writing. It is nice to get back in touch.

Is it Friday yet?

I had a stupendous job interview yesterday and I think it's actually going to happen this time. The timing has finally caught up and become a good thing, and with this change comes the hope that the sky is the limit. I look forward to it and embrace it. The change, that is. And of course the hope as well. I love when God does that for us, his children.

I have always been one to love and thrive on change, as hard it as it may seem at the time. Even considering the inevitable number of hurdles that may be lurking in the shadows to jump out and trip me up, I have always secretly wanted to jump over them with ease, and that kept me running. It's funny, I don't know if this fact is inherent in me or if was picked up along the road of the lifestyle I grew up in. Always looking to the next place, waiting to see where we will find ourselves. More importantly, where we find God has dropped us.

It's always been an exhilarating fear that arises in me, and one that propels me forward rather than holds me back. I think it's the whole faith thing. Believing what I cannot see, but proclaiming it to be the truth and stepping forward. This time required a lot of patience and waiting, lying out fleece after fleece in search of the right direction. My Father was faithful enough to close the wrong doors. Like He wouldn't. But I knew each time it was His hand closing it, and with that knowledge comes peace, of which I am so grateful. Don't get me wrong, for a moment I deflated after each door gently closed and I wondered the grand question of why, but those moment passed as they all seem to do eventually.

There are still questions. Why I spent so many years in one direction now to find myself in another, and what role all that plays in my story. Is it really a matter of the choices I have made that have changed my direction? How much weight do the words obligation and responsibility and commitment hold in regards to the other words? Passion and destiny and drive. Some days it feels like they are on a balancing scale, battling over which wins.

Then there are the words that supersede them all.
Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, and self control.

The ones that are the product of where my devotion and commitment really lie. And they only speak the truth. They are evident for the world to see, aren't they? Ouch. The truth shall set you free, but sometimes the wound leaves a small battle scar.

When these words hit, none of the rest matter. Makes me wonder how much weight God actually puts on the rest.

I think we have come much closer to success when the rest don't matter any more.

Delight yourself in me, and I will grant you the desires of your heart, he says.
I venture to say that the more I actually obey Him and find myself delighting, the faster my desires of my heart change.

Notice that he commands us to DELIGHT in Him. How can I not want to obey immediately?
I find myself spending so much time worrying and planning and analyzing.

To delight and be satisfied. I think I will take that any day, any time.

Sarah and Booth in Spain singing "The power of your love"

**stolen from des's pics***

If you haven't seen The Biggest Loser on NBC this season, it's a reality show to watch. I love it. Yes, it has a few of the dreaded typical reality show elements to it, but overall it is quite inspirational. I love watching people take leaps toward their goals and to begin tasting freedom.

Obesity really can lock someone into a prison of flesh, in bondage to low self-worth and depression. Ick- praise God that we can become free from that! Us fat Americans...

I was thinking of a few of the unique and splendid places I have visited and daydreaming about being there again.

A few places I would give my left arm (or leg) to live for a while:

La Boca in Beunos Aires. All the buildings look like this. How would you like to wake up, look out your window and see a bright stucco rainbow in every direction? South American flavor...

A tiled flat in Lisbon, overlooking a cobblestone street below. Ahhhhhh....

Underneath a Dr. Seuss tree in Livingstone, Zambia. Just far enough from Victoria Falls to not feel the constant spray, but close enough to hear God's splendor in the thunderous wonder.

I know----I am just having one of those days----off in lala land.

The act of moving a household forces one to sift through a plethora of items. Some have been totally forgotten , a few deliberately discarded, and if we are lucky, a gem emerges and we find ourselves ecstatic and overjoyed to have found it. Regardless if we find this a treacherous process or an exciting adventure, we are inevitably faced with the years gone by. Memories and milestones play before us like a slideshow, and yet it is better than a slideshow because we hold the thing in our hands and are taken back to another time for a fleeting moment.

We are able to see the lily pads.

Like standing on a river bank and looking back across the rippling water only to see the lily pads of growth. In all their glory, the floating trophies that are evidence of the journey. Reminders of the moments that have come to define us and shape the road ahead.

I love photos. Always have. They speak to me like nothing else does. This past week I have been sifting through endless photos of my journey, and I have come across several lily pads that jumped out and grabbed me, reminding me of lessons learned and thresholds crossed.

I need to look back a little more. Otherwise I fear I may forget, and dreadfully come to the place where I found myself a week ago. Bewildered as to how I got to here and now.

I need to locate and acknowledge these lily pads, thus noting their existence. Then I must turn back around and look ahead, allowing the lily pads to fuel my journey toward my destination.

Like the churning under the sea that creates a magnificent tsunami, our "lily pads" are what churn and stir us up under the surface, always driving us with intent closer to the shore. And when God releases His power in our lives, the wave is far-reaching.

I suppose wisdom and discernment keep us from being destructive like the tsunami ---and yet just as constructively powerful in the kingdom of God.

The cool thing to me in this ever-so-strange picture that has formed in my mind is that the lily pads continue to float on top not being harmed, connecting the dots back to the source.

Sometimes I wonder how I ended up in the place I did. Surrounded by the people I am surrounded by. The truth is that my life journey has been so random and unlikely, when pondering this I always peddle back around and remember it was God who dropped me here and ...I no longer wonder. I just revel in it for a moment.

This happened Wednesday night after Bible study with my dear friends. Praying together was so sweet. It was like walking along a inclined dirt road with rocks and branches blocking my path, my heart racing, sweat dripping down my temples. And then, I reached the top, got on my bike, and let go. Flying down the other side, I forget the pain and the struggle. I let the wind invade my personal space and allow the freedom that I have been given to overtake the journey for a bit.

Isn't it amazing that time with God can feel like that? Really letting go of the burdens and the weight. I love it. "My yoke is easy and my burden is light..." He wasn't joking when He said that.

We talked about Hannah that day. The mother of Samuel. At first glance, I had a hard time relating to this woman. I am not a mother...and that is often what I think of when I come across Hannah. BUT alas, God saw fit to open my stubborn little eyes and show me just how much Hannah and I have in common, or rather, how much we NEED to have in common. What can I learn from this lady?

Hannah's life seemed incomplete. She wanted what she thought she couldn't have. She coveted what God hadn't ordained for her just yet. What happened is that her identity became wrapped up in this, and despair took over.

How often has that been true in my life? Whoa~ maybe Hannah and I are more alike than I thought. Reality check. How much of my identity is wrapped up in coveting what I don't have, washing away the blessings of the moment with the tears of wishing for what I don't have?

humbled.

What did she do? She came to God over and over, raw and real and begging him for a child. She promised that if God would bless her with a child, she would give him right back to Him.

So it happened.

And what did she do? Did she tell the Lord she would teach Samuel about faith and love him unconditionally and go on about her merry way? No, she didn't. This is the kicker. She kept her promise, and as soon as the child was weaned, she took him to the temple and put him in the care of Eli, to grow in the ways of God. SHE LITERALLY GAVE HIM UP.

Now, because I am not a mother, I don't fully understand the magnitude of her action. The agony that must have been to leave him there. However, I can imagine...and since my imagination is vivid and I am a visual learner, my thoughts race to two of my close friends, Becki and Sarah---who ironically both have sons names Samuel. How hard would that be? I don't think I could WATCH either one of them go through this surrender of their sons, much less be the one making that sacrifice.

She kept her promise. She kept her promise because she loved her Father more than the blessing of a son that He gave her.

Back to me (grimacing in shame) ~ How many times (a day? a week?) do I not keep my promise? Am I not true to my word? To God himself? To my friends? To my enemies?

Sacrifice.

What is a sacrifice if it doesn't cost us? There is a loaded question. Hannah threw that one in my face real quick-- when do I actually make a sincere and costly sacrifice? Not nearly often enough.

And so I found that I have a lot to learn from Hannah. Her song in I Samuel 2 is such a BOLD statement of her faith.

Identity.
Promises.
Sacrifice.

I smirk when I consider my "pre-Hannah" question- is she relevant to me? Can I learn anything from her?

A little bit...

Thanks, Joy--for posting that link on your blog. www.theooze.com is bursting with articles to read and ponder.

This one in particular for today.

http://www.theooze.com/articles/article.cfm?id=1225

Whoa. If any of us are prepping ourselves for the "catwalk into Heaven"---- we may need to dis-adorn ourselves for a moment...or eternity.

The amazing pictures turned out to be false documentation of Katrina- it wasn't Katrina at all! Thank you, Dawn for shedding light on the subject. I did think they looked more like tornadoes, but I just figured that tornadoes came out of hurricanes...?

Oh, woe is gullible me. What I don't understand is why would someone lie about what storm it is and claim to have taken the pics? Oh well...Just add it to the long list of things I don't understand.

Looks like Ophelia has missed us. All it has brought me is a sinus headache.

That's all from meteorologist Anna Street. Stay tuned ~

My co-worker received these pics through email this morning from a family member in Alabama. He took these of Katrina's approach. Amazing. There can be beauty in a storm.

Could deliverance be on the horizon?

I came to the point where I accepted that perhaps I needed to stay at this job....Indefinitely. Perhaps not?

Reigning in an abundance of excited nerves trying to burst free.

This could be a door well worth walking through.

It's fabulous having a friend that not only cares, but steps out on a line for you.

Thanks~ you are a cherished one.

It's funny how we see ourselves so differently than others see us, isn't it?

I just came back to my desk after a brief encounter with a friend. She, like me, tends to wear
her emotions transparently on her face, so it was easy to discern her reaction. Anyways, I asked her if anyone had ever told her that she reminded them of someone (a mutual acquaintance).Her face reflected this.

1. sheer horror
2. panic
3. sadness, like I had just shot her puppy

I obviously couldn't take back my comment, so I of course quickly confessed to her that my intention was for that to be a compliment, because I admire this person very much and she is literally one of my favorite people. She really is- this is why I was so shocked by her reaction.

A similar situation happened to me yesterday. A film director approached me and asked me to audition for her project coming up, because I can play a woman in her thirties. Now, I could have taken that as an opportunity to get some acting work and count it as a blessing, however did I?
Nope. I cried on the way home due to the distress of looking four years older than I actually am.

There you go. May we all learn to see ourselves a little more clearly through the eyes of our Maker. I venture to say that we would appear QUITE differently.

Adios. Thank God it's Friday.
~anna st~

And so it was that I lived my life for me.

I was dillusioned just enough to believe that my introversion was overtaking me and being a homebody was the answer. Worse, I believed it was okay. Therefore, I cleared my schedule in hopes of hibernating and hiding from the world, lost in my library of books and the occasional primetime television show. Solitude was calling me, I believed. My porch swing and coffemaker, also known as the comforts and crutches of my middle class American life never cease to scream out lies to me and tell me that they are my refuge.

Then came the whisper. "He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, HE is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in Him will I trust."

Oh, yes. I remember.

Soon after, a miraculous thing happened. All of these dirty feet started blocking my path. Showing up out of nowhere, fellow journeymen whose feet needed a good washing and a small dose of the Father's love lavished upon them appeared before me.

Then came the whisper. "Now that I, your Lord and teacher, have washed your feet,you should also wash one another's feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you."

"I must wash their feet," I uttered in the deep crevices of my heart. " My porch swing will still be here when I return." A bit of my comfort zone remaining just within my grasp, I set out with my bucket and my washcloth.

Joy came back into my life just then. Instead of the cancer of self absorbtion spreading through my body, my soul, and my heart, I began to feel joy and peace infiltrate my being.

Today, in search of more filthy feet, I find myself now spending less and less time on the porch swing.

It is still there when I need quiet time with my Father, seeking refuge in HIM rather than IT.

The great thing is, I can still dangle my bare feet over the side in the breeze with a new joy in my heart.

~anna st.~

If you get a chance to pick up the August 2005 issue of Harper's Magazine, please do so. Proceed to read the essay written by Bill McKibben called:

THE CHRISTIAN PARADOX: How a faithful nation gets Jesus Wrong.

You might be sorry you read it. The facts can be harrowing.

When so many things are going on it is hard to sit and write. About anything.

When it rains, it inevitably pours. I am not sure at what juncture in my journey I actually came to this realization, but it has been proven true through the years.

This past week has been a whirlwind of events, some tragic and some glorious.

One catastrophic nightmare, watched in horror from afar.

Another loss, yet quieter and closer to home than New Orleans~ a beautiful soul leaves this life and enters into the loving arms of her Maker. That is the glorious part! Seeing a body ravaged by cancer is the tragic part. It is hard to focus on the victory and ULTIMATE healing when you see a body wasting away and in combat for survival, and finally she gives in and waves the white flag of surrender. It's quite the dichotomy of feelings, isn't it? Rejoicing that the suffering is over, and grieving the personal loss of this beloved soul at the same time. God be with them~ all of them~ comfort them with your presence and peace.

Yesterday, more news of cancer.
Praying that it will be stopped now, hopefully early on.

Again I am reminded how fragile our lives are and that the Enemy is out to destroy.

PSALMS 136 The Message
"Thank God! He deserves your thanks.
His love never quits.
Thank the God of all god's,
His love never quits.
Thank the Lord of all Lord's
His love never quits.
Thank the miracle working God,
His love never quits.
The God whose skill formed the cosmos,
His love never quits...

Thank God who did it all,
His love never quits."


And so I recount the blessings of the week from the God whose love never quits.

My husband gave me a birthday card that was written entirely in French - and although this is his language of choice, I could only decipher about 4 words. He proceeded to read it to me in French and then translated it. This is one of the priceless attributes of the man I am married to. He values MOMENTS and makes sure that they happen. I don't take that for granted.

He also planned a party that ended up being absolutely smashing. We had a "Fondooplahganza" and he succeeded in keeping it a secret from me until a few hours before. It was splendid. My husband knows me well. I couldn't imagine a more enjoyable evening than close friends, fondue, and a good round of my favorite game: Hooplah. That it was, and it was good.

We are blessed with amazing friends.

todd and lindsey

ryan and sidonie

clay and beth (notice the shirt)

lisa, rhonda ,des, and melinda

rhonda and lori

priscilla and adam

fodue-ing away


the hooplah hall of fame!

my love.

And of course, we have the good news that we will be meeting the new addition to our family in three weeks--- see the last post!

SO~ we are blessed. However we know that we are so that we may be a blessing.

In the midst of hard times, it is always good to count blessings. God is still on the throne.

Compelled to intercede...

I am pleased to report that after an extensive weekend of trying, we are going to be making an addition to our family! And so we await the arrival of one THEOPHILUS GEHRIG STREET!




"Theo" for short. He's only 4 weeks old now so we have to wait a few more weeks.
I feel like I've just taken 20 years off. 6 years old- yep, that's about the right time for a boy to have a dog... again. Man, he's gonna be HUGE!

There is no time better well spent than an evening with my husband on the couch. Slurping up coconut soup, watching a good movie.

My friend Allison at work was just telling me that her dad works for a company in Kansas that was deployed yesterday to take millions of dollars worth of medical supplies (that are desperately needed) to the Gulf Coast.

They reached Jackson, Mississippi and the trucks ran out of gas. Apparantly they are stranded because there is no gas at any price to be found in Jackson, Mississippi.

They are stranded with the medical supplies.

Two revelations of the morning:

1. I feel old.
2. There is no greater earthly joy than serving.

WAIT! Three , actually:

3. I love Panera.

He opened his talk with the story of Zacchaeus. Brennan talked about how an entire town, with their ridicule and hatred, could not keep the little man from oppressing them through the extravagant financial gains he made as a tax collector. Christ walked through town and spotted the man. Christ told Zacchaeus that he would like to have a meal with him.

In the single conversation Christ had with Zacchaeus, Jesus spoke affirmation and LOVE, and the tax collector sold his possessions and made amends to those he had robbed. It was the affection of Christ, not the brutality of a town, that HEALED Zacchaeus.

~ Don Miller ~ Blue Like Jazz


If that reminder doesn't hit us hard with the blatant truth of God's word, then we truly are a blind, mute, and deaf church. If that reminder doesn't convict us to the core, then we need to dig down and find our souls amongst the rubble and disease. If that reminder doesn't make us want to run out to the streets and just BE like Jesus (easier said than done, but attainable- He said so Himself) , then we need to check our pulse to make sure that we have a heart that is operating at all.

And why is it that we don't see lost and hurting people like Zacchaeus as in NEED OF BEING HEALED rather than in need of repenting? He was lost, and he was hurting. Why have I never thought of him as such? I was taught in Sunday school that he was a bad man that turned good. Was he bad? Not even the question. He was lost. One loving conversation with Jesus and his heart was cleaned, pure and white as snow. One act of selfless love and someone was healed. In an instant, he wanted to give--------not take.

Oh, to want to give and not take. To be cleaned inside and forgiven. To know that you are loved at all. Do we remember why we call Jesus our friend?Do we follow him or do we wade through the forest trying to create our own path, ironically getting scraped up and bitten to pieces all the way?

Who is the Zacchaeus in my life today? Who needs a meal and a small amount of my time, affirmation, and love? Is the name Zacchaeus MY OWN very alias today? What about you?

The Sunday school song is hardly the point...