You always have tomorrow.

I don't think life is meant to be lived on a strict schedule like I imagine the U.S. president has. And yet sometimes I fall into that trap, of routine, and planning. I don't know why, it makes my life more organized and predictable. it helps me to prepare and I like being prepared. But sometimes my life is like a straight path and on this path grows the same kind of flower and the same kind of tree, alternating in a patter. And the actual floor of the trail is always wood chips with a section of flat rocks every once in a while. I have a map, there are very few turns or hills or curves. It's always light out and when it rains, my umbrella is already up. I don't get lost, wet, hot or cold. I don't stop to smell the flowers, take a nap in the trees. I may pause quickly to catch a snapshot of a pretty tree, but it isn't a meaningful picture, it's simply a pretty picture. Not artistic or expressive, the picture doesn't say anything - it's just a quick snapshot of life as I pass by it, sometimes it's even blurred because I was moving, ready to see the next thing while I pushed the button. I usually don't even look at the picture again very often - except maybe to show people where I've been and what I saw, not experienced, but saw. To experience a tree would be to climb it, or build a tree house in it. Maybe use it's leaves and branches to build a tent or sit underneath and read awhile. Experiencing it is laying underneath and looking up, maybe with a friend while you share your stories of life, both happy and sad.

Life isn't meant to be passed by, every minute balks at being planned out. Take and enjoy detours, explore, stop at lemonade stands, go and people watch. Take a walk in a park, watch a sunset. Browse a garage sale, pick up a chocolate milkshake. Look people in the eye when you talk to them. Leave evenings unplanned and don't allow a to do list to take over. Enjoy the errands and chores of life. Listen to music while you do dishes, read a book while waiting for laundry. Browse in a grocery story, concocting new recipes. Ask the bank teller sincerely how she's doing. Smile at people. Be the first there and the last to leave. Offer people a ride. Stay and chat after the bill has been paid. Wait an extra 3 seconds after an awkward silence instead of always ending the conversation. Send someone a silly card or note. Buy fresh flowers - always. :) And if you get to the end of the day and there's still lots to do - you always have tomorrow.

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Why girls get married:

I am convinced that one of the major reasons why women get married is because they need men to hang their pictures. Living alone definitely has it's humorous moments...

I was trying to hang a bulletin/chalk board in my entryway. I want it to be level and perfect. Five holes later... it was finally hung and MOSTLY level. :) The wall underneath looks like there's been a miniature demolition team in my house. Which, after the entryway, the little devils moved onto the bathroom. If I have struggles with hanging a square frame, imagine trying to hang 5 wooden letters in a straight line. Tacks all over the floor, I hammered my finger several times, dropped all of the letters, made multiple holes in the wall once again, dropped the hammer, bent many nails, and stepped on a tack. 45 painful minutes later... the letters R-E-L-A-X are hung in a semi-straight fashion on my bathroom wall. Oh dear!! I need a man - if for nothing else then to hang my pictures!

On a more serious note something happened to me last night that I find disturbing. I know that if I was verbally telling this to someone, then I would be told to ignore it, but it is not sitting well in my soul. I walked out of work last night around 11 (I work at a restaurant downtown GR). My car was parked right across the street which has been closed due to the arts festival going on for the past 3 days. So I'm walking across the street to my car, excited about the good money I just made and these three slightly attractive guys are walking towards me, well... stumbling towards me. 11:00 and already hammered?? I'm glad I didn't run into them at 2:00 am!! They invite me to join them for drinks and when I decline as I climb into my car one calls out, "Oh you're religious! You need to go home and read your Bible". If I had been quick-thinking enough and he had been sober enough for it to matter, I probably would have responded, but instead I rolled my eyes and got in my car. My good mood suddenly vanished. I was sad, sad that those guys are going to go and drink themselves, maybe to the point of sickness and most certainly to the point of an inevitable hangover the next morning, and they think that is what life is about. I feel as though I am living down in the depths of life, the messy, meaningful stuff. The stuff that in the long run, makes an eternal difference. And there they are in the kiddy pool calling me in as if little yellow slides and squirt guns will interest me. I also am a little angry, as a woman, I am frustrated. I am frustrated that some policemen, some man didn't stand up for me and give them what they deserved. That men are allowed to get away with that, not only on the street, but in bars, billboards, movies, in public and in private. Why is it that guys think they can talk to girls like that?? Why do they think they can treat them like trash, like pieces of meat, with such disrespect? I wish that they knew how God looks down and I'm sure is wishing He could flood the world again so as to wash away men like that. I am also offended, no that's not the right word. I don't know what is, but I feel frustrated that they think the reason why I wouldn't join them at the bar is because I need to go home and read my Bible. As if people who read their Bible can't go out and have a drink, as if Christians go home early - I'm frustrated with the stereotypes... that they would think that, that for some people it is true. I don't like to be lumped into a box, and yet I have absolutly no problem with going home at 11:00 on a Saturday night. I don't feel as though I'm missing out on anything and to me their life seems more boring then mine.

I know... I'm over-thinking the whole drunken encounter, I should forget about it and not let it bother me. And yet... it won't go away - it's like an incessant mosquito. Maybe after I finish writing the blog, and it's out in black and white, then it will stop bothering me. Or maybe it will only go on to bug others. I hope it doesn't buzz in your ear... :)

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Speechless

I find it a little ironic that the subject of this blog is speechless, I am staring at the blank screen and struggling to put into words exactly what is on my heart and yet my hands maneuvered the mouse to post a new post. I am speechless... I feel as though God is doing so much in my heart and life that I must speak but how do you squish the mysterious truths into the 26 letters of the alphabet. All the way from Allie Alligator to Zeke the Zebra... these letters are limited in expressing the transformation that God is doing on my heart. He is molding... he is changing... it hurts but it is so good! It is redemption, it is new life, it is truth!

I am learning how to have faith in a good God even when life does not make any sense. I am allowing God to flow into my life, into the painful parts of my life. Picture a river... a waterfall... a flood... He is flooding into my soul! Into the pain and easing it! He is bringing in a rush of truth, of love and life! He is filling the gaps and holes. He is calling me to Himself, to surrender completely, to humble myself and release control. He is setting me free from the chains of religion and pride. I am falling in love with Him, I am meeting with Him and my soul is filled. I am content, I am learning Paul's secret of contentment, that no matter the circumstance Jesus is all I need. I have so many desires for my life, to be married, to have children, to go to Africa, to own a horse; and yet I have none of these. I am in Grand Rapids, I'm single, childless, and horseless. I have none of the things that my heart longs for and yet it doesn't matter because I have Jesus and He is all I need. I am hungry for Him, I am hungry for Him just as I crave food. My soul craves Him, and He satisfies me.

I am learning the difference between the Gospel, a relationship and religion. "Religion is easier. It dresses me up and tells me exactly what to do and tells me that I am fine. That I make a few mistakes, I am a sinner, but I am okay." The Gospel tells me that I am not okay! That I need, I desperately need Jesus! The Gospel tells me that I must be transparent and that I must be on my knees, that I must be real. The Gospel reminds me of my weakness and that God is my strength, that I am not in control - ever, even when it seems that I am in control. The Gospel tells me that I bring nothing to the equation and it is only through God's grace that I have salavation. These are the things that God is teaching me at my church and I am so grateful for a church and a pastor who teaches truth and points me in the direction towards God.

I feel as though my words have been insufficient and cliche which is frustrating to say the least.

I will end with a verse found in Psalms 103 "Bless the Lord, oh my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name." This song is spilling over in my heart!

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The Pluses and Minuses

Living alone has it's advantages and disadvantages...

I was thinking about living alone and how unusual it must seem to people in different countries; for people groups who place such a high value on relationships and doing things in groups rather that individually. America is probably one of few countries where women my age live by themselves and it is accepted as a norm.

Sometimes I come home and I love that I can just throw my stuff by the door and leave my clothes everywhere and dishes in the sink and no one can complain! I love that I can turn my music up in the morning when I'm getting ready and can come and go as I please without consulting anyone. I love that my soul is free to be sad, joyful, disappointed or frustrated without judgement from others or having to explain it. I love that I can fall asleep on the couch. That I can open all my windows on the first day of spring even though it's too cold out. That I can sit in my kitchen with the lights off and listen to the rain outside. I love the independence and knowing that I can support myself to live. I love that no one else eats my Eggo waffles. I love decorating my own place and making it my home. I enjoy "owning" my own space. I enjoy cleaning my place and creating a space where when people come over, they like the atmosphere. I love having a haven away from everything, a sanctuary where I can meet with Jesus in any room. I like laying down in my hallway and listening to music because I am tired of being in my bedroom and living room; there are less expectations in the hallway. I like leaving my pantry door open for 3 days because I have no reason to go into the living room. I love being able to have people over and playing the hostess. I like some of the connotations that go along with having your own place - that I'm confident, independent, and self-sufficient. I feel as though by having my own apartment, it is an expression that I am all of those things. I love the feeling of coming home at the end of the day, getting my key out and unlocking my door, plopping my stuff down and away I go with a list of things to do. I love that I've never had to ask my parents for help with rent since the day I moved in. I love the lighting of my bedroom in the morning and early afternoon, when the sun streams through my windows.

I hate writing a check on the 1st of the month and watching a huge chunk of what I earned that month disappear. It's hard to come home from church on Sunday and eat lunch by myself. I don't like it when it's beautiful out and you just want someone to marvel with... but no one is there. I hate it when we have a snow day, locked inside and everyone else stays home with family and enjoys the relaxed time while I am lonely in my gray apartment. Sometimes when I get home, I just want to tell someone about the meaningless things that have happened during my day. I don't like cooking a delicious meal and having no one to share it with. I hate how I am constantly throwing away food. Sometimes I hate not having any accountability for how I spend my time. Sometimes I just want someone to know where I am and what I'm doing. When I'm down, I don't always need someone to be with me, in fact more often then not I want to be alone, but I want to be left alone, I don't want to BE alone. I don't like some of the negative connotations that come with living alone - that I'm making bad financial decisions, that I couldn't find a roommate or that I'm lonely all the time. I hate spending money on toilet paper and having no one to finish painting my kitchen with. I hate not having someone to help me make decisions. I hate that technology is my only connection to the outside world. I hate that feeling when my heart starts beating, did I hear something? Is there someone in my home? I don't like how because I'm living alone I can start to think that I am the center of the universe.

I think I like living alone, most days I do, sometimes I hate it and I don't want to do it for much longer. There are advantages and disadvantages...

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I want my Mom!

This morning, one of my whiney 4 year olds was sitting against the shelf pouting. I tend to be unsympathetic because she whines about everything. I went over, bent down and asked her what was wrong. "I want my mom" she cries. At first I am thinking logically and realistically, well... she's at work, there's not much I can do, so suck it up and come have lunch was my first thought. My heart was immediately softened, and I took her in my arms, telling her that I had lots of fun stuff planned for the day and that her mom would be here to pick her up before she knew it. I told her to just try not to think about it. As I held her, I started thinking about mothers and why they are so special; about why they are so comforting. When you're a child and you're with your mom, it's as though nothing is wrong in the world. Her presence alone is enough to fulfill you and complete whatever is missing. It is her constant providing, protecting, and loving that only a mother can offer that this little one longs for. I have several thoughts that branched off from here...

One was about my mother and how even though I'm 24 years old, I still long sometimes to go home, curl up on my mom's bed and just feel safe. Mothers are so safe and simple. I still feel like Caitlyn, leaning up against the shelf, hiding from the harsh realities of the world, crying and pouting for my mom.

I also think about myself and the children that I will someday have. I anticipate that bond that only a mother can have with her child. When he or she cries, it is the mother they want, whether they are an infant, a 4 year old or a 24 year old and no one else has the calming effect that a mother has. What a blessing, to be able to fulfill someone's deep need for safety and self-assurance. I can't wait to be a mom someday, to have my child run into my arms when I'm away from him or her. To hear the "I love you's" when I tuck them in at night. I can't wait to have my infant be crying and to take him/her in my arms and hush them with my words as I hold them tightly to my chest. I can't wait for them to smile at me and wave in choir concerts and soccer games when I come to watch. I know their heart will be swelling with pride - their mother came to watch them and cheer them on. And I will be swelling with love and pride as I watch them do their best. Whether they fall down, miss a goal, sing the wrong words - I'll always love them. It's unconditional love - that's what Caitlyn must have been crying for. Someday I get to have that...

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