Finals

Wow, I can't believe finals are here. And it's going to be a tricky few days. I would really appreciate your prayers. Perhaps I can get back in the blogging groove after the semester ends!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Has it really been almost a month since I blogged? I don't know why! Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

That Old Brown Truck

My dad used to have this '63 Chevy pickup truck. I think it was his favorite vehicle - ever! It was tan, with a couple of white areas where some of the rust spots had been half repaired. There were places where the paint was chipped. The wood in the bed was chipped and warped. The metal slats between each piece of wood was rusted, and some of the bolts in the metal were loose or missing.

He bought it from his friend Ray when we lived in Colorado Springs, Colorado. He paid around $500 for it, and it was a bargain. I think Ray shed a tear when he gave dad the keys. Ray had a motorcycle and always wore cowboy boots and a big belt buckle with a gold cowboy riding a horse. It was a rodeo trophy replica. He liked to do the Texas Two Step, and I always wanted to learn.

We had the Chevy for a few months when the muffler or something fell off. I was only 10 at the time, so I didn't really care what was wrong with it. I could feel the rattle against the seat, and I remember dad getting pulled over for noise pollution. He didn't get a ticket, though. As soon as he showed his military ID, the officer let him go. His military ID always got him out of trouble.

Whenever we went to the grocery store, he'd drive the buggy to the holding area, instead of just walking it back. He'd stick his arm out the window and hold the buggy until he got to the holding area, and then he'd give it one hard push. He always laughed when people looked.

He loved to have my brother, sister, and me stand up in the bed and hold on to the back of the cab of the truck. There was this small groove in the metal, and I always held it tightly. He would wait until we had a good grip, and then he would pop the clutch over and over again. He told us a couple of times he actually got it to leave the ground. We'd laugh and let the wind whip through our hair. My sister and I didn't care about the tangles, although I should've been. Her hair was thin and easy to brush. Mine was like the tumbleweeds dad said he saw when he lived in Oklahoma.

We had the pickup for the remainder of the time we lived in Colorado. Dad loved it so much, he went and bought a '63 Chevy Suburban. It was dark red and had windows in the back that were spray painted black. You couldn't see through them at all. The vehicle didn't run, so it just sat in our yard. He just wanted it because it looked like the truck, and he thought he might be able to fix it up one day.

Dad bought an aluminum camper top with these ugly, convex, green windows that were like Plexiglas. The windows in the side had a handle on the inside that we had to use to get the separate panes to roll out. At most, they rolled out to about 70 degrees. The roof of the camper leaked, and if we were riding in the bed when it rained, we had to stuff extra clothing or something between the roof and the support rails. Of course, the added benefit of the insulation was the fact that we didn't have to listen to the aluminum rattle.

The Chevy was our only source of transportation when we made the trek from Colorado Springs to Tuscumbia, Alabama. We still had the Suburban, but it didn't run at all, and dad decided to save money by loading up our belongings in the back of Suburban. We needed more room, so he bought a trailer with another camper top on it. The trailer was made out of the bed of another '63 Chevy truck. He was obsessed.

He didn't sleep much during the trip. My mom didn't drive, and my siblings and I weren't old enough to drive. We stayed in the bed of the pickup, and mom sat up front with dad to help him stay awake. If we needed to go to the bathroom, we would bang on the window of the camper top until dad heard it. We traveled for about 22 hours, and we only stopped once for him to sleep. I think he slept around three hours.

We arrived in Alabama around dawn and we all had cabin fever! Dad was even more determined to make record time, and he pushed that poor truck to its limits. I remember thinking that we never named it. I tried to come up with a name on the spot, but I drew a blank. I decided I would name it when we made it to grandma's.

On our way to my grandma's, we had to go through an area in Tuscumbia called Colbert Heights. We had to drive up a steep hill known by the locals as "the mountain." The truck sputtered all the way to top, dragging the Suburban and the trailer with it.

We barely made it up the mountain, and when we got there, dad pulled over in the school yard. He came to the bed and opened up the camper top.

"We started a new religion, kids! Do you see all of our followers?" He pointed to the road we just turned off of, and there were about fifteen cars speeding by. They were behind us as we went up the hill. He told us it took about ten or fifteen minutes to get to the top because of all the weight the truck had to drag.

We all got out and stretched our legs, and as were climbing back into the bed, he got into the pickup and tried to start it. It wouldn't start, no matter what he tried. We waited about two hours and tried again but no luck. It was dead.

Dad and mom walked to one of the local houses and called grandma. She sent our uncle, and he came and picked us up. Later that day, he and dad went to try to get the truck. They came back three hours later but they didn't have it with them.

My other uncle ended up towing the pickup to grandma's. They had to make two other trips to bring the other vehicles.

Dad didn't find another '63 Chevy truck within his price range, so he settled on a '93 Aerostar. He mourned for his pickup every time that van broke down. He's still looking for his '63 Chevy.

Christmas Already???

I tell myself every year that I'm not going to go all out on Christmas gifts. I rarely have a ton of money to spend, and I'm not the thriftiest of shoppers. And I'm certainly not creative in that way. This year, I decided I would only buy gifts for my little sister and my dad.

Well, I bought his present already! I bought two tickets to see the Tennessee Titans. Of course, the other one is for me. We are going Christmas day! They're playing the Chargers. It will be my first NFL game, and it will be his first in many, many years. I think he saw the Bucs play in one of the first years the franchise started. I called him to ask him if he wanted to go, and he really sounds excited. I am looking forward to it!!!

What is parking like at LP field?

Now, onto my little sister. Then, my brother's four kids. After that, who knows? Any ideas for a single gift to cover four girls ranging from teenagers to first graders?

The Wallflower

Daffodils in the garden
stand out as an eyesore
but noticed are they still.

A flower of any sort
rarely stands out
beside its brethren.

Before it's picked
its elegance goes
unnoticed.

But by itself
the flower shines
and is found worthy.

Who chooses
the flower?
Who determines its value?

As it grows
its petals unfold
and layer upon layer

of beauty appear. It
was always there.
It simply reveals itself slowly.

After the Storm

A couple of weeks ago, I had made a decision in my life that I had not considered prayerfully. I was meeting with a group of my friends, and I was determined to share that decision. But before I had that opportunity, a word was released by one of the men of God within the group. It basically told us to not allow the whirlwind to sweep us away but to ride the storm and the waves. The message couldn't have been any more timely, and it changed my mind.

After leaving our meeting that night, I really pondered what exactly happens after a whirlwing. Can it be useful? I read an article on MSN, and it basically confirmed how a hurricane, although devastating, can help the land. Whirlwinds are not as powerful as hurricanes, but the paths they take are similar. A whirlwind is defined by Merriam-Webster as 1: a small rotating windstorm of limited extent 2a: a confused rush. b: a violent or destructive force or agency.

A whirlwind destroys everything in its path. The visual devastation is heart breaking. People are killed; homes are destroyed; lives are completely changed. I don't deny that. But after the storm has run its course, the land does experience a bit of rejuvenation and restoration.

How often in our own lives do we find that we have ridden out a storm and seen the positive effects it has? I'm not painting a black and white picture. There are certain devastating events that cannot be compared to others, but there are storms in our lives that come through and seem to break us. After we stand up and dust ourselves off, we are often able to see where certain damage was done. And we are able to see that the damage done to that area actually became beneficial to us later. Sometimes it's just hard to see that when all we can see are the huge gusts of wind and the swaying of the landmarks and property.

Hurricanes are able to affect the very ocean they are somehow able to whip around easily. They can supply all the salt and other inorganic sediments that healthy wetlands need. And all this takes place without man's help.

Many times, we feel that we must help the storms within our own lives by changing this or doing that. But why thwart what God needs to do? Sometimes, instead of trying to throw up boards on the windows, we need to just get out. And when I say "get out," I mean we have to leave that area of our lives and find a safe place. Let the storm whip through. We just have to get out of our own way!

The healthy wetlands left behind after a storm has gone through can provide a buffer against other storm surges. These buffers, created by God, are an almost proactive attempt. God understands how weak the land and people of the land can be after a devastating storm comes through. So, he allows that land an opportunity to stand on its own and recover.

We also experience a calm after the storm. And we often find that the storm comes in to build within us a strength that we will use later.

And the promise of God within our own lives proves that He provides a calm after the storm. 2 Sam. 23:3-4 "The one who rules righteously, who rules in the fear of God, is like the light of morning at sunrise, like a morning without clouds, like the gleaming of the sun on new grass after rain."

So, ride it out. Take whatever rescue He sends, but don't move until He makes a way. Let Him have His way, and who knows what His estate may look like in the end?!?

High Fives and Back Hugs

I was praying today and God spoke to me about why I love the kids at my church so much. It’s a Godly desire. God has placed a desire in my heart that lines up with His. I love those kids because they love me. They are almost always happy to see me, unless they are tired. They smile at me and hug me full force. They do not hold back. They love me freely. God wants me to love Him the very same way. As I realized this, I thought about Ellie Hope, and just how much that child and I have in common.

When I first got to know Ellie Hope, she was around 1-2 years old. I was simply a
helper in the nursery. She’s always been a beautiful girl, I’ll tell you. But I never made any real effort to connect to her. But, as I began to grow closer to her parents, I began to reach out to her. Daddy God is always reaching out to us.

What’s interesting is how Ellie Hope showed me affection. When I first started talking to her, she might smile at me or even shy away. I would make some sort of contact with her, and then I would leave her alone. I didn’t want to push but I wanted her to know how much I cared.

I reacted that same way towards God for a while. I knew that He cared because He showed me in many ways, but part of me needed to take some time to get to know Him. I wasn’t fully comfortable around Him (I’m still not). But, He always made sure to connect with me somehow.

As Ellie grew up, she became much more responsive. But it was a slow process, relatively speaking. I’m not used to kids taking a long time to warm up to me! Anyway, she began to smile at me more and even speak to me more. I had finally moved to a place where I could get five’s on a regular basis (not money here, folks). I remained patient, never asking for more than she wanted to give.

My relationship with the Lord grew in much the same fashion. I began to really enjoy His presence. I allowed Him to reach out to me even more. And yes, I would allow Him to place His hands before me and I would hold them or touch them, even if I was just giving Him some skin. And He stayed at a distance that was still comfortable for me, all the while continuing to speak to me and reach out to me.

Soon, Ellie Hope decided she could give me hugs, but the kid would only give me “back hugs” (her words, not mine). She would only put her back to mine. She wouldn’t let me hold her in my arms. Oh, it took all that I had in me not to turn around and bear hug that kid. She’s absolutely adorable.

Back hugs, huh? Yes, I guess I’m still in this phase. I won’t let my God hold me in His arms.

Now, Ellie Hope runs into my arms. She kisses my cheeks and hugs me tight. She smiles at me and talks to me, and when she says my name, it is one of the sweetest sounds I’ve ever heard.

Daddy God is waiting on me to behave that way. Ellie Hope, I’m right behind you!