Sparkles on my face.

I was looking at myself in the mirror after work today and noticed glitter sparkling above my eyebrow. I love the sparkles on my face. I love working with kids everyday. I love being greeted cheerfully "Hi Miss Kate!" when I walk into the room. A few years ago I was working in the nursery at Crossroads and there was a little girl that was crying inconsolably. We tried everything, to no avail. A mother came in to drop off her little boy, he scampered away apparently either over or hadn't reached yet the seperation anxiety stage yet. She bent down to the crying girl and held out her arms saying simply, "do you just need a hug?" To be honest, after listening to her scream, I was not feeling the whole hug thing - but that was exactly what that girl needed, some comfort and love. Sure enough, a few minutes later she was off playing with friends. I have remembered that lesson taught by a wise mom and at my school, when I walk into the room, they look up from what they are doing, waiting expectantly me to come over and give them each a hug, to smile and make a funny face, to rustle their hair or kiss them on the top of the head. I love how their favorite place is sitting in my lap and I literally have to peel them off of me. I love when they lay their head down on my shoulder and just rest there, needing a break from the constant play and noise of the room. I love their questions and when they run up to me, jumping into my arms and completely trusting me that I'll catch them. I love the adoration in their eyes - it goes both ways. I adore little Nico and his pudgy little body. I adore Ryan and his sweet face and constant need to share his thoughts even though I can't understand half of what he is saying. I love Cole's pride on his face as I clapped for him when he put the last piece in the puzzle. I love Tommy how he leans into me when I sit next to him. I love Jacob's precious smile and hilarious sense of humor that never ceases to crack me up. I miss them when I'm gone and can't wait to see them tomorrow. I love having sparkles on my face.

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78 degrees in November

I moved to Denver 8 months and 2 days ago. Sometimes I still feel like it was just yesterday, other days it feels as though I've been here for years. I am slowly acclimating myself that this is my home, and even though I've been here almost a year... it is still strange to me that I live here in this strange city, with this strange weather. I breathe in Denver as I drive home on my commute each day, adjusting to the idea of this being home. It is difficult because I have no previous years of experience to draw from as we head into the winter season now. I have no grid for seeing the people and culture of Denver. This is a difficult concept to explain in a blog, but saying that there is no grid is the only way I can explain it. It just feels foreign, scary, new and adventurous every day. Probably because I think about things too much. ;)

It was summer like a second ago and now it's winter. (I mean not today, because it's a fluke of a day when it's 78 in November), but it's winter. It's brown out and the leaves have fallen from the trees. There is no green or lushness in the parks or as I drive home. I am greeted with the stark trees of winter and the chill in the morning speaks of colder mornings to come that will require slippers, hot coffee, hats, gloves and big down coats in order to survive. :) When did this happen?? It's as if one day my life was sitting by the pool, sunning, running, walking, windows open, sweaty hot, tank tops to everything winter. What happened?? The transition was too fast or perhaps I just missed it in the midst of my busyness. Winter came too early this year, I am not ready for it.

City vs. country:

I have often pondered whether I am a city or a country girl... after growing up in the suberbs of western Michigan, spending a year and a half in the cornfields of Indiana, moving to the 2nd biggest city in Michigan, living at the ranch in a small town and then moving to Denver... I have gone back and forth. Maybe I'm just adaptable and so I do okay in either atmosphere, but after living at camp and in Africa as well, where life is slow and offers much down time, I've decided my personality leans towards the country. And now after living in the busy city of Denver, it is confirmed. As much as I think that this is where I am supposed to be at this time in my life... I don't want to live here forever. The city is so busy and in some ways I feel like I haven't stopped running since I moved here. The city offers no place and time for a soul like mine that requires ample time for reflection and processing. God created me to be someone who carries a journal as her companion as well as a good fiction novel to lose myself in when my days allow. God created me to be someone who needs an hour or two in the morning to prepare, pray and get ready for the day, and then some time at night to unwind. I am most myself when I am outdoors... listening and just being still. Even now as I sit outside at a coffee shop, in the dark, my heart is peaceful and rested. I am a country girl... it is confirmed.

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Character Flaw

I have a friend who e-mailed me and shared with me what he felt is his one character flaw. I am sure I have more then one, but it got me thinking, what is it about me that is flawed? What is wired into me that just keeps coming back and drives me crazy? The first one that jumped to my mind is that I'm too serious, or intense. All my life I've been told to be less emotional, to chill out, to calm down and to smile. It pricks me each time I hear someone tell me that I look so serious. I've had managers, guys in bars, my mother, sisters, and friends tell me I look so serious. Even a girl on the street once asked if I was okay because I looked angry! Really? It's so frustrating because it's not what is on the inside, I'm just contemplative and I hate that my face doesn't reflect what it is on the inside. Today at work someone really thought I was mad at them. So my question is, how do I change my face so that I don't look so serious and mad all the time? I don't know. I know I need to remember that life isn't so serious, I remind myself of that all the time. Sometimes I feel like people offer me no grace, there are certain people that probably don't want to be my friend because they think I'm "too serious", and maybe I am for them. And I'm admitting openly and publicly on this blog that I agree, it is an obnoxious character flaw, but I also have to put it out there, that even though I strive to glorify God and to be transformed into His image, in the same sentence I must say, it's also just who I am. My people pleasing part of me (probably my other major flaw, or maybe they are connected...) is determined that I will be who people want me to be... and the part of me that knows that's wrong thinking states a little boldly IT'S WHO I AM.

I don't know that this blog entry is a full thought, but it is what it is. So my question for you then is: what do you think your biggest character flaw is?

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Clean dishes and Bridal Registries

***I wrote this blog a few days ago and for some reason never posted it... so here it goes, one post after another, but let it be known, they were not written on the same day... ***

I have moved into a new home, a small apartment, my own little corner in Denver. I love having my space and dreaming of the ways I can make it fit my lifestyle and decorate it just right. It's a perfect little place, except one important thing: it has no dishwasher. I told myself after living over a year in a place with no dishwasher that I would never do it again. Yet, here I am. When I talk to women, there is almost always one household chore that they hate, whether it is laundry, vacuuming, cleaning the bathroom; and mine is most definitely washing the dishes. I may have some repressed memories from when I was a little girl, being forced to wash the dishes after dinner, practically child labor I say with dripping sarcasm. I cannot tell you how many times I lay down on our blue couch, feigning stomach pain to try and get out of washing the dishes. However, I have decided to integrate it into my daily life... each morning and each night, I will wash the dishes, so they don't get piled up and embarrassingly ridiculous. I will simply work it into the rhythm of my life, and allow for those slow moments of washing, scrubbing, rinsing, and putting them away neatly in my cupboard. Maybe... over time I will begin to enjoy it. I'll keep you updated if that ever happens...

On a completely different topic:

I work in the fine china department at Bed, Bath, and Beyond - ahhh... the blogs I could write about this topic alone are endless. I have chosen one thought to share because it has stuck in my mind and I must write it so I can get it out. Well I shall preface this with I believe in love and marriage, but in my opinion the bridal registry process is overrated. And here's why... These brides come in with their grooms tagging along, lists in hand, prepared to make decisions about what they will fill their new homes with. They come in deceptive, wanting to register for exciting things because they know they'll get cash back when they return them. They get dragged in by their bridesmaids, hating it and handing them the scanner to allow them to choose which towels and dinnerware.

Then there's the guests... the guests arrive, on their way to the wedding, scrambling to find something on the list and getting frustrated because there is hardly anything left, and then getting more frustrated because the complimentary gift packaging is taking too long. Guests come in, look over the list and decide the bride has no good taste and refuses to get anything she is asking for, straying instead for some irrelevant candle sticks or wine glasses she'll hate and either never use or return. Guests come in, insisting that we as sales associates are personal shoppers and insist on having us show them where everything is so they can make an educated decision. We have guests that hardly know the bride, mothers that we called Modzilla's because of their insistence on having the best for their daughter, with no understanding that the world does not indeed revolve around them and their daughters.

I say this all with bitterness I know... as a bridal constultant, I am losing faith in the registry process because it has lost the heart of getting married and having your friends and family shower you with gifts in celebration with you. Instead, this woman comes in the other day, looks over what her neice has registered for and says that the dinnerware she has picked out is so boring and practical. She has only registered for 8 place settings, when everyone knows she should have 12. She complains that the bride lives so modestly and doesn't want to collect too many things. My manager joins her in being shocked at how a woman could not want things. I stand there... flummoxed and frustrated. After seeing and experiencing the things I did in Africa, it is hard for me to keep my mouth closed when these well-meaning, but horribly greedy and selfish women come shopping. I also get caught up in the "want more, need more" tidal wave that is constantly pressuring people, especially women that we must have more things, yet I resist those desires and feelings because of the truth, I refuse the lies, turn my back on the perspective, and choose truth.


It feels so good to share with you some of the things I hate about my job (next time I'll blog about the things I like to even it out) Oh by the way - if you are looking for a place to register, you HAVE to come to BBB, it is the BEST place to register. :) Which may sound strange to say after all that but while I don't believe in the registry process anymore, I have no alternative for you, or hopefully for myself one day shall I find that lucky man! :) With that - I bid you good night.

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Addison.

My sweet niece Addie was in town to visit this past weekend. She is getting SO big, is almost 2 1/2 and is talking like a 13 year old girl! :) She learns new words everyday and mimics everything you say, my language had to be G-rated for fear I would teach her "crap" or "dang". What hideous words to come out of her sweet, innocent mouth. She is a ham, she cracks me up, does the funniest thing and I shall use my blog to share her silliness.

She has a "credit card" (I think it's an old health insurance card) that she uses, she looks at the back of it intently and says "eight-forty" and then swipes it through the carpet. Where she heard the number we have no idea, but it is the cost of everything she purchases.

I was on the phone in the other room, she came in and found me, dragging me by the hand. She instructed me to lay down on the living room floor, handed me her blankie and stuffed her pacifier in my mouth - trying to put me to bed. I think she will make a wonderful mother someday. :)

I was making cookies with her on Friday while everyone else was napping, she sat down on the floor and asked for a bowl. I gave her one and asked her what she wanted in the bowl? "Candy" she says in the most serious, sweetest voice. I caved... sorry Rachel, it's why she now loves marshmellows. :)

I was lounging on the chair on our back deck while dad was grilling. She noticed the watermelon, grabbed one off the plate and started chowing down. Maybe she felt guilty for not sharing, but instead of politely asking, she just walked up and pushed watermelon into my face, dripping red juice all over. Thanks for sharing Addison. :)

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An Airplane story.

Dedicated to my "listening" friend: Christina

I slide into my seat next the window on the airplane, a mom-aged woman is sitting next to me and she makes the casual small talk that I feel is much needed on an airplane; it's awkward to sit so close to someone for 2 hours and never say hello. She asks if I'm from Denver or flying home. I was rendered speechless for a moment, not knowing how to answer that... Denver is my new home. Holland is my childhood home. "Well I just moved out to Denver six months ago and I am flying home to Michigan to visit my family and friends, so I am flying from home to home." I would consider both home. And not just because I lived (or do live) in both places, there are many places I have lived and would not consider home, maybe not even when I lived in them. Someone quoted to me the well-known quote "Home is where the heart is." So running with that logic, I have four homes, because my heart is sliced into four pieces, although not necessarily equal. I feel if I start to describe the size of my heart you might get grossed out and the analogy might lose it's meaning... SO I have four homes: 1) Holland, MI 2) Grace Adventures 3) Kenya 4) Denver, CO. All of them having very different yet significant meanings to them as to why they are my home and why I have left a piece of my heart in each of them, but whenever I am in my car or on a plane, heading towards one of these destinations, my heart beats quickly with excitement of the opportunity to reconnect with people that mean the world to me, to do the things that I feel I was born to do there, and to have that relaxed peaceful feeling that comes from being home.

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Poem.

Yesterday was such a perfect day it should have been a poem. I could translate it into poetry here on this blog, but I am not a poet and I fear I would not do the day justice. I have no pictures of the day, only special memories I have put away to pull out again later when I am aching for camp again once I get back up to Denver.

There are very few people that can understand my affinity for this place, even I struggle with understanding why it has such a calming effect on me. Grace Adventures in all it's glory filled with simple cabins, huge billowy trees, thousands of stars, people everywhere, big barns filled with hay and tools, horses neighing, and familiar faces.

My special memories:

falling asleep to the sound of crickets and the wind.
waking up to sun shining and a peaceful morning beckoning me to come join it.
recalling all of the horses names as I browse the herd, petting and talking to each one.
staring up at the stars and counting the shooting stars, reminiscing of the summer past.
saddling up in anticipation of the ride.
listening to the horses frisk around on the island, the pounding of their hooves like thunder.
familiar blue herons soaring through the sky.
cantering through the woods, feeling my spirit release and smiling from the inside out.
sitting in kayaks, just floating on the water peacefully in silence with a good friend.
clapping games with Caitlin.
Cale's sweet hugs.
sharing life stories and memories and hearing about the future and the changes.
holding new babies. learning of new ones to come.
hugs good-bye, perfect day.

(is that a poem?)

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