Monday, November 22, 2010

Pies in the Oven

Introducing . . .

My first holiday pie of the year.



It's Pioneer Woman's Dreamy Apple pie ... ehem... without the hard sauce ... or the fancy camera ... and a few charred spots of sugar on the top.  But didn't Mama always say a little charcoal never hurt anyone? 
http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/2010/11/dreamy-apple-pie/

Next up?

The honey-scented pumpkin pie from the Publix supermarket pumpkin puree label.  Sweet Publix.  Oh, how I love Publix.  In fact, I think it's time for another episode of *buh.duh.duh.duuuuh* The Why-Georgia-Rocks Show.  I thought you'd be pretty excited about that.  You might want to sit down for this.

Number Three:  Georgia gives football players of all ages the opportunities to feel like champions.  I went to a middle school game a few months ago, and the hoopla (this is the official "football term" for the lights, announcer, referee uniforms, cheers, and pretzels) was nicer than my college football hoopla.

Number Two:  Publix.  Grocery Store Extraordinaire.  The cashiers itemize my items.  The stockers front all the stock.  The butchers ask me if I need any meat.  The sandwiches are better than I've had in any sandwich shop, and the crab dip is divine. 

Number One:  Still topping the list of my Why-Georgia-Rocks Show is the Southern Man.  Sure, some women feel trapped by chivalry and laundry days, breadwinners and good ol' boys.  The longer I live, the more I'm finding that Gram probably didn't have laundry days because of tradition; she probably had them because maybe she would've turned into a giant mess like me if she hadn't installed a little organization in her life-- Mondays are for sheets; Tuesdays are for ironing.  Um...I digress.  Breadwinners are hot (though I like to throw my own contribution into the bowl), good ol' boys know where the best local diners are, and when a man holds the door open for me, I feel the world tilt on its axis ... just as it should be.  So, Men of Georgia*, I salute you.

*This salute is intended for Men (capital "m").  As is true in every region of the country, knotheads lurk if you're looking for them.  But most people around here are pretty solid.

Butter Pie.  McCartney.  Dig a Little.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Strolling with Friends

I don't like moving on.  Digging in my heels, gritting my teeth, and flipping my chin to the sky, I usually refuse to do it.  The feeling of looking at something gorgeous in the rearview mirror fingernails my chalkboards in a way I hate.  When something rare and wonderful spends a season in my life, I wish for Fall forever . . . or Summer, or Spring, or even Winter. 

But I'm wrong.  I know I'm wrong.  I'm the teenager wearing shorts in a blizzard.  I'm the pioneer whose lantern isn't lit, and the sun has gone down.  I'm holding on to friendships that passed me by when I wasn't watching.

Change is as real as the skin on our bones.  We shed about 2-million skin cells an hour!  Time changes everything, even friendships.  Friends are friends forever, but maybe the same friends aren't friends in the same ways forever.

It's time for me to wake up and start paying attention.

Need more iron. Mums. Zippies.

Aubrey

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Mark Twain is Hilarious

Before he died, he did interview "conversations" for four-years about his life.

He ordered the notes be saved, and an autobiography published 100 years after his death.

They're calling him one of the first bloggers as his autobiography isn't written chronologically, but topically . . . randomly.

What a Showman!  Still making a scene 100-years later!

white suit. personality. moustache.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

A Voice from the Inside

Dear Mr. President:

During my shift in the Emergency Room last night, I had the pleasure of evaluating a patient whose smile revealed an expensive shiny gold tooth, whose body was adorned with a wide assortment of elaborate and costly tattoos, who wore a very expensive brand of tennis shoes and who chatted on a new cellular telephone equipped with a popular R&B ringtone.





While glancing over her patient chart, I happened to notice that her payer status was listed as "Medicaid"! During my examination of her, the patient informed me that she smokes more than one pack of cigarettes every day, eats only at fast-food take-outs, and somehow still has money to buy pretzels and beer. And, you and our Congress expect me to pay for this woman's health care? I contend that our nation's "health care crisis" is not the result of a shortage of quality hospitals, doctors or nurses. Rather, it is the result of a "crisis of culture" a culture in which it is perfectly acceptable to spend money on luxuries and vices while refusing to take care of one's self or, heaven forbid, purchase health insurance. It is a culture based in the irresponsible credo that "I can do whatever I want to because someone else will always take care of me". Once you fix this "culture crisis" that rewards irresponsibility and dependency, you'll be amazed at how quickly our nation's health care difficulties will disappear.



Respectfully,

ROGER STARNER JONES, MD

Monday, September 13, 2010

A Road Diverged--Wrecked

One side of my car looked perfect; the other side was pretty banged up.  You can see part of the other car's tail-light stuck in my door.  I'm still trying to figure out their angle when they hit us.



The car came around this corner on Hwy 20 in Canton.  If you look up on the shoulder, you can see my parents' car pulled over and my mom walking toward us.  This was almost exactly where the other car hit us . . . only when I stopped the car, I was in the oncoming lane trying to avoid a head-on collision with the silver CRV.

The lady took out the guard rail before ricocheting off it.  She said she was only going 50 around the curve.

I love you Car, but I'm not even sad about your bruises . . . because my Girls are ok.  I'm a little apalled that the lady said, "This is the second time I've gotten in a wreck in this vehicle!  My tires lost traction with the road" after something like this.  What if someone had been hurt??  Get new tires, slow down, or better yet, b.o.t.h., but don't act so nonchalant about nearly killing a bunch of people.  por favor.

Scary.  Miracle.  Adrenaline. 

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

I'm in Love with a Church

I grew up wearing gloves on Easter and sitting in a wooden pew ... sometimes padded.

I grew up learning about Jesus, Mary, and Joseph by way of artful felt-backed, strangely Caucasion flannel-board peeps.

I grew up sitting in "Adult" church alone while Mom taught Sunday School; Kel WENT to Sunday School; Dad stayed home. I heard about Solomon, who asked God for wisdom, and then biked around the neighborhood asking for wisdom and asking God what He meant that I should fear Him.  How could I love someone and fear them at the same time?  I decided to bury my favorite stuffed animal as a love offering to God!  Once a strange kid, always a strange kid.


And the pedulum swings.


Things changed in college when I decided gloves and skirts were as good as prison, and respect was more of an attitude than an attire.

Things changed in college when I learned about Grace, Wine, Music, Gambling, Cussing, and Freedom.

Things changed in college when I rolled my windows down on a rainy Missouri night and screamed at God, "If you're so powerful, how could YOU LET this HAPPEN?"  . . . and I had no fear.   And if there was love in my heart, I couldn't find it.


And the pendulum swings.

So, tonight I went to a church where I studied "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" in the red hymnal while waiting on a green fuzzy pew for everyone to gather in the chapel.

I heard Paul's words to the Romans and the "10 cents" of a humble preacher-man.

I went to a new church tonight.  I didn't count them, but I think 17-people, ranging in age from 35 to 75 shook my hand and called me by name (Hey, there's a first-timer sitting in the front by Terry.  Psst.  Her name is Aubrey.).  Seventeen.  My heart was so raw from all the love that I almost cried (Hey, there's a crazy woman sitting in the front by Terry.  Psst.  Her name is Aubrey.).  :P  I praised God in my heart because He is greater than the sunset and the sunny days he crafts, and yet, crazy enough that He keeps poking me in the ribs.  I'm here. I love you. I'm here. I love you. I'm here. I love you.



Redeemed and Redeeming.  Ying Yang Tick Tock.  Inhale Exhaaaaale.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Prayer of Saint Frank

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Prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi


Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love;

where there is injury,pardon;

where there is doubt, faith;

where there is despair, hope;

where there is darkness, light;

and where there is sadness, joy.





O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek

to be consoled as to console;

to be understood as to understand;

to be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive;

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;

and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen

Monday, August 16, 2010

Oh, fer cute

I can tell I'd love this couple just by browsing their tour!

Emily and Meeko

Oh, fer cute!

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Finishing Baby Joey's Quilt

. . . before you grow up, Kid! :)




You. are. Loved.

Aubrey

A bite for everyone! :)

I'm on my way to work to share Martha Stewart's Icebox Cake (graham crackers, a sort of chocolate ganache and bananas) that Brin inspired me to try! A bite is really enough.



chilled. sugar. share.

Friday, July 23, 2010

Today's Cleaning Playlist

If there are suds involved, it might as well be a party. :)


I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) The Proclaimers
Killer Queen Queen: Greatest Hits
Simply Irresistible Robert Palmer
Ain't Nothing Wrong With That Robert Randolph & The Family Band
Back In Black AC/DC
Life In a Northern Town (Dance Remix) Sunset Boulevard
Cantaloop (Flip Fantasia) Us3
XXX's and OOO's (An American Girl) Trisha Yearwood
And It Stoned Me Van Morrison
There's Your Trouble Dixie Chicks
Just Like Heaven The Cure
Some Kind Of Wonderful Grand Funk
Magical House Cleaning / Blue or Pink (Score) George Bruns Mr. Tambourine Man The Byrds
Take On Me a-ha
Lovely Day Bill Withers

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Jimmy Carter was a Peanut Farmer

. . . and he had solar panels installed on the roof of the White House.

Ronald Reagan had them taken down.

Guess what three companies are top givers to politicians and political parties?
60 million --Exxon Mobile (profits of 40 billion dollars per year)
40 million --Chevron/Texaco
30 million --BP

Iraq has the second largest oil reserves in the world. Why are our troops there again? Military expenditures in the form of LIVES and MONEY to protect the lining of some pretty fancy pockets. Ladies and Gents in the oil business, you should be ashamed of yourselves. Then again, my Toyota runs on oil. Shame on me.

The U.S. has 2% of the world's oil resources. How much of those reserves are under in the Gulf?

Who really owns this country? . . . Interesting how politicians sponsored to powerful places have oil running in their veins (Dick Cheney, G.W., Palin, etc.).

Baby, it's time for some honesty and some alternate fuel sources.

Out of Oil. Big Britches. Energy "Task Force".

Thursday, July 15, 2010

A Draft of a Declaration

A shell of a ship sits in a shop
Gutted
No sails taking wind,
No prow cutting surf,
The planks recall yells of yesterday's port
Whispers now

A jewel setting gathers dust on the desk
Empty
No sparkle glimmering facets,
No clasp holding treasure,
The gold reflects yesterday's light
Gone now

Lord, I came to know you in second grade. You gave me joy--even then. Even that young, I felt you change my hear as clearly as I would a warm squeeze.

That joy developed and got deeper as the years passed. People used to remark about how often I smiled. They thought it had something to do with me.

I started to believe it did, too.

They say a fade happens slowly, and it's true. Something about my response to my traffic ticket the other day made me look hard at my hardenend heart.

Any joy I've ever had . . .
Any smile on my face . . .
Any inspiration I've felt . . .
love shared
beauty observed

Has been only and utterly because of Christ.
How could I ever think I had anything to do with that?

So, tonight I've had this glimpse of my angry, prideful, bitter self.

That is who I am.

The whole gift of Christ, though, is that He has given me more. He replaced that bitter girl with an inspired joyful woman ... just over twenty years ago.

I want that back. I want a life surrendered to God. I want the purity of a child biking around the neighborhood ... wondering what God will do next.

Lord, thank you for my ticket. Keep killing my pride and calling me back to you -- whatever it takes.

I want to glorify you -- whatever it takes.

Love.

Aubrey

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Random Summer





Overflowing with Classroom Projects!

So, I have some good ideas for fixing up my classroom for the upcoming year, but it's always more fun to spend less money! :P Well, almost always.

Project One
Picture Frames.
I put these together using moulding, a miter box, wood glue, a corner clamp, some paint, and a lot of muscle, baby! I think they turned out pretty cute! I'm going to use them to display pictures I take of students throughout the year.



Updates on my other projects when I have more to show! :)

Dear Officer Bent

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

4:45 p.m.


Dear Officer Bent,

I learned to drive on gravel roads. Where I come from, the road generally isn't wide enough for two cars, wise drivers watch for stray cows and meandering tractors, and people wave at one another with two fingers. In my experience, getting pulled over in a small town is a professional exchange. Officers are polite and to-the-point.

When I moved to Atlanta, I was shocked at the local attitude toward law enforcement. When Kathryn Johnston, the 80-something Georgia-Tech-neighborhood dweller was killed in a faulty drug bust, I was waiting tables and heard the public flack. I actually defended the law-enforcement vocation. What a tough job--ladies and gentlemen risking their lives to keep the streets safe.

Soon after the drug bust talk died down, there was a huge drama in the parking lot at the restaurant where I worked. After breaking half a dozen car windows and stealing items, a man pulled a gun. A few things of mine, including my wallet, were stolen. Some officers actually found my stolen wallet in a ditch and drove to the restaurant to return it. One Point: JUSTICE and SERVANTHOOD!

A few years later, I moved to the Norcross area and was working out in John's Creek. I got pulled over (rightfully) and experienced my first taste of Atlanta's Finest. After writing the citation, the officer informed me he could follow me home and give me a ticket every single day if he wanted to. I felt absolutely bullied and unsafe. I was alone in the car. I had just worked out. It was late at night. Was it really necessary to speak to me that way? One Point: UNPROFESSIONAL BULLIES!

You pulled me over this afternoon saying I pulled into an emergency lane and almost struck a van "who was waiting to do the right thing." Most days, I'm the one who is waiting while other drivers move right before the white lines dictate it's allowable. Today, I was the idiot who didn't see the cop camped on the corner. Today, I was the idiot hurrying home to make picture frames for my classroom. I did not "almost strike" the van. The van had been in the position to move right for at least 30-seconds and hadn't. I understand you're just doing your job. I know times are tough. In south Georgia, the State is about to put convicts to work maintaining school grounds. Convicts. In schools. I know times are tough.

I know it's hot out. I know you have a job to do. I know what it's like to work in a business where you interact with seas of faces, books of names, and snapshots of situations that play over and over.

I don't know where you're from, what's important to you, or what music you listen to on days off. What I do know is that I would have appreciated a "hello" before you wrote the ticket. I would have appreciated a "good afternoon" so I knew when I could drive away. I am a person, not just your paycheck. My name is Aubrey. My eyes are GRN, not BLU, and I'm a public servant, too. I believe that no job is so important and no uniform is so blue black that it gives the wearer the right to rudeness. Though I know there are plenty officers like the Bully I mentioned above, I hope there are more out there who don't use their position as an excuse to be flagrantly unprofessional.

I got into the "right lane" before the white lines officially allowed it. I'm a damn criminal. My crime will cost me $300 bucks and my summer plans.

Thank you, Officer, for keeping the streets safe for us all.

Aubrey
Eyes
GRN

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

I missed it!

Hutchmoot sign-up has come and gone. Pooh. I'm setting a google reminder for Spring next year!

Hutchmoot

But, I can still make its reading list mine. So, starting tomorrow, I'll be re-/reading:

By Walt Wangerin, Jr.
The Book of the Dun Cow
The Book of Sorrows
Saint Julian

By Frederick Buechner
Godric
The Sacred Journey
Son of Laughter

By Annie Dillard
Pilgrim at Tinker Creek
The Writing Life
Teaching a Stone to Talk

Flannery O'Conner
A Good Man is Hard to Find
Mystery and Manners
Wise Blood

C.S. Lewis
The Great Divorce
Perelandra
Til We Have Faces

George MacDonald
Lilith
At the Back of the North Wind
Phantastes


That's EIGHTEEN BOOKS! It's time to get started. I'm sure I'll fill up a notebook with notes. I'm sure these notes will benefit my mind and heart much more than any notes I might take on *Falling for Montana Man*. Cheers to writing that is more meat than milk.

I can't believe I missed Hutchmoot!!

Meaty Reading. Pool Notes. Sarong.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

Netflix Namastey


I always think it's kind of fun to check out what the folks in my neighborhood are watching. Here are a few favorites on the summary page:

1. Steve Harvey: Still Trippin'--This looks pretty funny.


2. Jab We Met--About a girl who meets a guy on a train and decides to go traveling with him.


3. Kurbaan-- A handsome young Indian couple moves to suburban USA and finds they are a enmeshed in a terrori*t plot.



4. Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi (A Match Made in Heaven)--A May December romance with all the struggles they suggest.


5. Fanaa--Zooni, a sheltered blind girl, meets Rehan, a poetic womanizer, and romance ensues.

Shubh raatri. Sneezy. Father's Day grillin!

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Running to this

Use it at your own risk. :)

Baba O'Riley (Live Sheperton Film Studios) The Who
The Tears of a Clown (Hotsnax Remix) Smokey Robinson & The Miracles
Hips Don't Lie (feat. Wyclef Jean) Shakira
Rude Boy Rihanna
Jump (For My Love) The Pointer Sisters
Rosa Parks OutKast
Get Down on It Kool & The Gang
ABC (Salaam Remi Remix) The Jackson 5
Who's That Lady The Isley Brothers I Can't Help Myself (Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch) The Four Tops
Devil's Dance Floor Flogging Molly
Lose Yourself Eminem
If You Wanna Be Happy Dominic Halpin & The Honey B's

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Chatta

What a gorgeous day to hang out outside! It was great to see Sharla and most of her little family!







Monday, June 7, 2010

I found this in my oldest journal


M y mother is nice
O thers are not
T hat is good if they like rice
H ot moms are not so good
E very mother has her thing
R arely, they give a sting
S till all mothers

ARE REALLY
GREAT!

Aubrey, nine


Anything for a rhyme ;)

This fell out of the pages! I'm not sure where it came from?

Grandma's Dad holding Doug?, Gram, and Mom

I love this house!



Check out more pictures here:
Cote de Texas

Also fun:
Hooked on Houses

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Dear Peace Corps Experience

June 1, 2010

Dear Peace Corps Experience,

It's times like these, reading DB's Happy Easter (2009 Christmas Letter), that I really miss you.

I miss mime-ing to the guy at the gadget store that the bum sprayer on my toilet exploded in the wee hours of the night--Help!

I miss wanting cookies so badly I thought I might try to milk a water buffalo, churn my own butter, and build an oven out of a clay pot and roasty bamboo.

I miss the friendly smiles of strangers and the graceful sendoff of Loy Kratong.

I miss bai-teeow with some of the only other people in the world who know the significance of a good honk and the numbers 1.1.6.

I miss mountain monkeys in heat, beany ice cream, and MC Hammer pants in all the shades of the rainbow.

I miss cow neeow matmuang, beetle juiced grannies, Shake Banana, Shake, Shake Banana, Seth's front porch, and the joy of being Weifenbached.

At times like this, I can almost hear the walls of my apartment whispering, "farang."

Sigh. Time for a plane ticket. Towrai?

Friday, May 28, 2010

Softball Sweeties




Tonight, I watched my awesome niece in a tournament game in Chattanooga. The 5-6 year olds with the Honeybees played with dirt in the outfield, twirled around, figured out how to wear knee pads, and cheered "Cheater, Chatter, Aggravate the batter!"

Pretty cute.

I'm pretty proud of my sister's little family. Skylar squatted at ready short stop, Kelly volunteered as "Dugout Mom", and Brad caught little jock-gals's missed hits during the warm-up.

Whatta family! Whatta fun day!


Tomorrow, the luau!

Skirts. of grass. Gregory Alan Isakov.

P.S. Cheers to dreams that do not include climbing mountains in the freezing rain, through rainbows, with strange trolls as companions. Yep. No more of those. Please. :P

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Kitung Mak Mak

Literally "I miss lots lots."

Sometimes, I miss Thailand mak mak. Most of the world lives in Community. They live so much in community, that it's common to see three or four people cruising down the road on a single moped. They live so much in community that there's no such thing as "cheating" in a classroom. They live so much in community that parties begin before dawn with all the local grannies and GIT (grannies in training) convening with seasonal fruits and utensils under the hostess's house. A buffet isn't BYOHD (that's hot dish, not high def), it's COAMSTS (come over, and make something to share).

That's right.

I made my haupia in my Free-At-Last-Free-At-Last kitchen, but now that it's chilling in the fridge, I'm wondering if the task, nay life itself, might be just a splash sweeter surrounded by the gaggle of a true neighborhood.

Maybe the Independence of our culture is an illusion anyway.

Gooooodnight.

Coconuts. Pineapples. Marinade.

Aubrey

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Yeah, Yeah...Darn Capillaries

You can't hide the truth from your body. It tells, oh does it tell. I try to wear the same jeans I wore last summer. Nope. The booty tells. I try to wear my hajr naturally. Nope. The grey tells.

I've never thought my capillaries would play a role in this tattling party. Actually, I had never really thought of my capillaries at all until two days ago. Two days ago, I decided to take my dragging hind end out in the apartment neighborhood for a run.

I walked around an Indian lady and her four-year old (who was learning how to scooter--very cute--and pretty funny), I circled a semi-truck with Michigan plates taking up seven spots. Then, itch. Itch. I had to stop and throw off my shoes dramatically. What BUG could this be? Disgusting. A man with a cigarette and a leash to a collie approached. I got up and ran a few more blocks. Itch. Itch. ITCH. I slowed. What the heck?? Isn't it a little late in the year for dry skin?? I advanced my iPod to Beyonce. Itch. Itch. Ridiculous!!

It was so bad, I ran in the house, tore off my clothes, slathered myself in lotion, and scratched the heck out of those plaguing itches. Then, research. What in the world could be causing this terrible itching?

Between the Google and the Forums, I have my answer. My capillaries. If arteries are the rivers of our bodies, arterioles are the streams, and capillaries are the creeks. Well, apparently when an individual is not maximizing his or her body (i.e. I have become a worn-out couch potato), blood flow isn't really as necessary to the muscles--the muscles aren't even working. But when a practiced couch potato finally gets the blood flowing back to the muscles, the capillaries awaken in a rush... in a rush of ITCH.

The good news is-- the more often I run, the more often my creeks will run, the better off my circulatory system is, the less likely it is that I'll ITCH.

The bad news is--I can't hide! My body has spoken ... and honestly. Couch potato, begone!

Life is about more than a job. It's time to start keeping those capillaries in business.

fo real.

Itching. Running. Workin the glutes and the capills. :)

Aubrey

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Purpose

If we are all tools for His Kingdom, then I'm a blender... or a hammer, or a gallon of paint.

A blender trying to dig is miserable.


Embracing the mix. Letting go of shovel hopes. Blend it.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Faith

When was the last time I did something that required

complete trust?

I think the answer is

as little as possible.



It's time for a lifestyle change. :)

Love. Trust. Bridge.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Dear Tozer, Your words are still speaking...

AW Tozer's Vocab List
1. Abnegation--To deny
2. Repudiate--To disown
3. Perilous-- Dangerous
4. Stalwart--Marked by outstanding strength of body, mind, or spirit
5. Connote--To imply as a logical connotation
6. Malady-- A disease or unwholesome condition
7. Coddle-- To treat with excessive care
8. Prevenient--Anticipatory
9. Accords--Agrees
10. Ineffable-- Unspeakable; Indescribable
11. Fervid--burning





The man who has God for his treasure has all things in One. Many ordinary treasures may be denied him, or if he is allowed to have them, the enjoyment of them will be so tempered that they will never be necessary to his happiness. Or if he must see them go, one after one, he will scarcely feel a sense of loss, for having the Source of all things he has in One all satisfaction, all pleasure, all delight. Whatever he may lose he has actually lost nothing, for he now has it all in One, and he has it purely, legitimately and forever.
****

There is within the human heart a tough fibrous root of fallen life whose nature is to possess, always to possess. It covets `things' with a deep and fierce passion. The pronouns `my' and `mine' look innocent enough in print, but their constant and universal use is significant. They express the real nature of the old Adamic man better than a thousand volumes of theology could do. They are verbal symptoms of our deep disease. The roots of our hearts have grown down into things, and we dare not pull up one rootlet lest we die. Things have become necessary to us, a development never originally intended. God's gifts now take the place of God, and the whole course of nature is upset by the monstrous substitution.
****

Everything in the New Testament accords with this Old Testament picture. Ransomed men need no longer pause in fear to enter the Holy of Holies. God wills that we should push on into His Presence and live our whole life there.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

There is Sunshine in my Soul Today

Mom shared something with me today that struck me. I don't think she would mind my blabbing about it for a minute.

She said

Remember the story of the woman who poured precious oil on Jesus's feet and washed his feet with her hair? The other men scoffed at her, but Jesus was blessed by her love.



I'm ashamed to admit that sometimes, a relationship with the Lord feels one-sided (I don't spend enough time *listening*). It's amazing to think things *I* do can have an impact on the heart of God.

Wow? Wow.

It has been a season of dimness for me. Today, I spent a few hours wandering around Ikea looking at organizational systems and funky fabric through a veil of teary eyes. I feel like I lost a good friend today. So, maybe some of my almost-tears were warranted, but Yuck! It's time to wipe my eyes and move on!

How have I spent years declaring that God is the most important piece of my life without ever thinking about his FEELINGS in this way??

I move (finally!) at the end of this week, and I'm sad for the time I'll miss with my long-time roommate, but I'm really excited to start fresh. I hope this new season is one of looking o.u.t.w.a.r.d. :)

Thursday, January 7, 2010

Twenty-Four Days until . . .

freedom!
feeling like everyone in my home loves me first, judges me second!
rug selection!
feeling free from the weight of, "I just wasn't raised like that."
I can finally put my pots in some cupboards!


I am so spoiled! Thank you, Lord, for this abundance!
I get my own place! My first place! :)

24-days. woo. hoo.

Sunday, January 3, 2010

The Big Picture

There is a couple I respect very much. They have been such good friends and have set an example I aspire to emulate.

They have a pretty strict budget. One time, M was talking about Budgeting, and she said something like, "We are hard on ourselves because we want to spend our money on what's really important to us."

Looking at the big picture really helps.

The bottom line is-- I have more than all I want. I have more than all I need. By the grace of God, I've paid off most of my debts, and can spend my money with better intentions. I have a plan/schedule/vision for my finances, and keeping faithful to the plan is so important to me that I will not fritter away money on bubble gum, fancy crackers, and clothes!

This is pretty exciting! I love you, envelope system.

New Year. New Focus. Wind in my Sails.

Aubrey

Saturday, January 2, 2010

Pocket Change

My new year will be
like pocket change.

I'll collect my moments in a bank
until its full enough to break,
and then I'll bust it open.

I'll dig around and find value in forgotten corners,
and I'll re-purpose it.

I'll consider more wisely how I'm trading each coin that passes through my hand.

I want to understand more fully what it means to be a steward.

-010. Get moving, girl. Shake it.