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Sorry. I fell asleep and that's what happens when your head hits the keyboard.
Sleep and I go way back. From the moment I entered the world, sleep and I were tight. My relationship with sleep is only one of love. I love sleep and sleep loves me. If that last part were possible, it would be true. Though it has never been fully tested, I'm pretty sure I could sleep anywhere. You think I'm kidding, but I seriously mean anywhere: next to railroad tracks, the detonation of a nuclear bomb, the blue whale as it emits its mating call at 188 decibels, a speaker at a Justin Bieber concert, etc. You get the idea. And no, I don't have narcolepsy.
Back in the day, I remember my mom coming into my room to wake me up at some obscenely early hour like 11 a.m. telling me to "Rise and shine and give God the glory!" in what she intentionally made to be her worst singing voice ever. Forget that. Was God even up then? Because if I was God, I wouldn't be. Didn't my mom know I was attending "Bedside Baptist" that Sunday? The service was being led by Pastor Pillow and Sister Sheet. I didn't want to rise or shine. I'll leave that to the sun, thanks. And I'm supposed to give God what? That wasn't happening. It was too early to start that nonsense. Plus, I didn't have an ounce of glory in me at that hour. I don't recall my mom eating Wheaties in the morning, but sometimes it seemed that way.
(Update: I currently have a deep appreciation for mornings with the help of my Keurig which I refer to as God.)
Along with being a sound sleeper, I may or may not have been a sleepwalker (please note the past tense, as I've come a long way). Being a sleepwalker can be a dangerous thing. You are a danger to not only yourself but to those around you. You end up doing crazy things like eating 5 bags of potato chips and putting the remnants in your freezer or peeing in your closet. Hopefully you never end up combining the two (e.g. peeing in a freezer). I wouldn't know from personal experience, but I have a feeling that could get ugly for everyone involved.
Sleepwalking predominately occurs in children and most children outgrow their sleepwalking habits. While this may be true, sometimes I feel like everyone is sleepwalking through life. We are awake, but are we fully aware? We go through the motions of our day in a zombie-like state. Work, eat, sleep, repeat. We aren't "risin' and shinin'." We're risin' and burning out.
Why are we here? Going to work, eating chips while peeing in a freezer, and sleeping...is this really all there is?
Jonathan Foreman, lead singer of Switchfoot, says it best in his lyrics:
Maybe we've been livin' with our eyes half open.
Maybe we're bent and broken.
We were meant to live for so much more.
Have we lost ourselves?
Somewhere we live inside.
Somewhere we live inside.
We want more than this world's got to offer.
And everything inside, screams for second life.
We were made for so much more. God wants our attention. It's time to wake up.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Living Up to Mr. Rogers
During this past winter, I met my neighbor for the first time. I was shoveling the snow out of my driveway and my neighbor had come out into his yard for whatever reason. Probably to laugh at what little progress I was making. He was a man, who looked to be in his early 70's, wearing plaid flannel and his Vietnam War veteran baseball cap.
"Like to shovel?" I shouted out to him with a smile.
"You should make your boyfriend help you!" he replied with a chuckle.
Good idea in theory.
Our interaction was brief and I thought to myself, I really need to get to know my neighbors. I've been in my apartment for about one year and this has yet to happen.
Growing up, I was always the daring one within my circle of friends. Unlike others, I was willing to talk to strangers, willing to eat the ice cream covered in ketchup during a game of "Truth or Dare", or willing to be the one to prank call the "Hooked on Phonics" line claiming I had a child that needed their services. As I became a teenager, my boldness translated into creating parking spaces as my friends grimaced (for the record, I never got a ticket for this) and informing Taco Bell that it was my 21st birthday. Shouldn't that warrant a free lunch? I thought so. I was joking, but managed to score a free lunch anyway.
In retrospect, I think I got this humorous confidence from my dad. He was and is always joking around with people he barely knows. I remember him coming home one day telling me about a humorous encounter with some Amish kids in the grocery store line. He ended up buying them ice cream and milk because they were short on cows. I mean, cash. My dad was always using his humor and extrovertedness <--- (yes, I make up words) to serve those in his immediate surroundings. This was the kind of person I wanted to be.
Lately, I feel compelled to intentionally reach out to those around me, the people that I may typically ignore because I'm so preoccupied with my day and what I need to accomplish. I think about all the people I encounter in a day that I barely take time to notice: the man in the gas station, the waitress serving food, the person sitting alone in church, my new co-worker, my neighbors...
Today, with Hurricane Irene being her crazy self, I couldn't help but think of how nice it would be to know my neighbors in a time like this. What if my house flooded and I needed a place to stay? Would baking my neighbors cookies permit me to sleep on their floor? What if I was getting washed down the street in flood waters? Wouldn't it be nice to know someone in the area could identify my body? Or someone that would have an inner tube that I could borrow?
It shouldn't take an emergency to propel us to get to know our neighbors and it shouldn't be about our needs. We should get to know our neighbors and care for them because that is what Jesus calls us to do. The people that we feel we have insignificant interactions with are significant beings. Like us, they were made in God's image and God calls us to love and serve them.
Mr. Rogers was an excellent example of a neighbor. He was always asking nicely if someone would be his neighbor. Not only did he ask nicely but he would ask you through song. Amazing. Then, when he invited you into his house he would modestly change into a cardigan and loafers in front of you. I don't know if he ever actually did this, but I bet he would loan you his cardigan or loafers if you asked him. He let you into his home, his wardrobe, his trolley tunnel, and his imagination. He even kind of shared his pet fish. By the end of the day, Mr. Rogers was truly your neighbor.
Mr. Rogers would give you the cardigan off his back.
These days, I think it would be borderline creepy of me to invite my neighbor over, change into a cardigan, show him a trolley, and then ask him to be my neighbor (especially since he already is my neighbor). However, I think there is something to be said about the Mr. Rogers standard.
As an adult, I want to use my humor and confidence in approaching strangers to get to know my neighbors and truly serve them. It's time we develop our talents and skills and use them to serve those around us. Mr. Rogers was on to something, creepy song, cardigans and all.
"Like to shovel?" I shouted out to him with a smile.
"You should make your boyfriend help you!" he replied with a chuckle.
Good idea in theory.
Our interaction was brief and I thought to myself, I really need to get to know my neighbors. I've been in my apartment for about one year and this has yet to happen.
Growing up, I was always the daring one within my circle of friends. Unlike others, I was willing to talk to strangers, willing to eat the ice cream covered in ketchup during a game of "Truth or Dare", or willing to be the one to prank call the "Hooked on Phonics" line claiming I had a child that needed their services. As I became a teenager, my boldness translated into creating parking spaces as my friends grimaced (for the record, I never got a ticket for this) and informing Taco Bell that it was my 21st birthday. Shouldn't that warrant a free lunch? I thought so. I was joking, but managed to score a free lunch anyway.
In retrospect, I think I got this humorous confidence from my dad. He was and is always joking around with people he barely knows. I remember him coming home one day telling me about a humorous encounter with some Amish kids in the grocery store line. He ended up buying them ice cream and milk because they were short on cows. I mean, cash. My dad was always using his humor and extrovertedness <--- (yes, I make up words) to serve those in his immediate surroundings. This was the kind of person I wanted to be.
Lately, I feel compelled to intentionally reach out to those around me, the people that I may typically ignore because I'm so preoccupied with my day and what I need to accomplish. I think about all the people I encounter in a day that I barely take time to notice: the man in the gas station, the waitress serving food, the person sitting alone in church, my new co-worker, my neighbors...
Today, with Hurricane Irene being her crazy self, I couldn't help but think of how nice it would be to know my neighbors in a time like this. What if my house flooded and I needed a place to stay? Would baking my neighbors cookies permit me to sleep on their floor? What if I was getting washed down the street in flood waters? Wouldn't it be nice to know someone in the area could identify my body? Or someone that would have an inner tube that I could borrow?
It shouldn't take an emergency to propel us to get to know our neighbors and it shouldn't be about our needs. We should get to know our neighbors and care for them because that is what Jesus calls us to do. The people that we feel we have insignificant interactions with are significant beings. Like us, they were made in God's image and God calls us to love and serve them.
Mr. Rogers was an excellent example of a neighbor. He was always asking nicely if someone would be his neighbor. Not only did he ask nicely but he would ask you through song. Amazing. Then, when he invited you into his house he would modestly change into a cardigan and loafers in front of you. I don't know if he ever actually did this, but I bet he would loan you his cardigan or loafers if you asked him. He let you into his home, his wardrobe, his trolley tunnel, and his imagination. He even kind of shared his pet fish. By the end of the day, Mr. Rogers was truly your neighbor.
Mr. Rogers would give you the cardigan off his back.
These days, I think it would be borderline creepy of me to invite my neighbor over, change into a cardigan, show him a trolley, and then ask him to be my neighbor (especially since he already is my neighbor). However, I think there is something to be said about the Mr. Rogers standard.
As an adult, I want to use my humor and confidence in approaching strangers to get to know my neighbors and truly serve them. It's time we develop our talents and skills and use them to serve those around us. Mr. Rogers was on to something, creepy song, cardigans and all.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
The Real Author
When I was younger, I remember having the oddest dreams. I was about 7 years old and I remember a dream in which I went into my bathroom to take a shower. I pulled back the shower curtain to turn on the water and screamed. Standing there, in my shower, was Kermit THE Frog. That's right, Kermit. Just chilling. In MY shower. I don't remember Kermit and I having any great conversation. The dream pretty much ended with me running out of the bathroom to tell my sister that Kermit was not merely a puppet but the newest member of our family.
We all have dreams. Some dreams come true and some don't. As we get older our dreams begin to change. If I were to find Kermit the Frog in my shower now, I would still freak out mind you, but probably because I would think I was losing my mind, to which you would probably agree.
Our dreams go from being things of our imaginations to things we need to acquire to live a "complete and full life." Somewhere along the way (actually from the day we are born) we are told how to live and what we need in order to be happy. Go to school, read your books, avoid the teacher's dirty looks, get good grades, go to college, get a job, get married, buy a house, have 2.25 kids...the list goes on and on...
We all try to write our dreams into existence, influenced by society and who we feel we need to be at any given time in our lives. We attempt to control our future by attempting to write our own story. If you haven't learned this yet, life will allow you to learn it; control is merely an illusion in what at times feels like a chaotic world. In trying to write our own story we are not only trying to be in control of what happens to us, but we are trying to control our image. As much as we try to control our destiny, we quickly come to realize that our dreams may not happen in the order we wish or even happen at all.
So what are we to do? How do we handle when things don't happen on our timeline? What do we do if some of our dreams don't happen at all? Maybe, just maybe, it's time to realize that we aren't in control. Maybe, it's time we stop trying to write our own story. Maybe, it's time we let the author of life write it. Perhaps, God has a better story for your life, a story that surpasses your own desires of what you think will make you happy.
While I'll continue to write humorous stories and stories that reflect who I am, I've come to realize it's really not about me and whether or not I have 2.25 kids. I want my life to be a reflection of something more. I want my life story to be a reflection of God.
Here's to letting God write my life story. I have a feeling His dreams for my life are far better than my own, even though Kermit is pretty exciting.
We all have dreams. Some dreams come true and some don't. As we get older our dreams begin to change. If I were to find Kermit the Frog in my shower now, I would still freak out mind you, but probably because I would think I was losing my mind, to which you would probably agree.
Our dreams go from being things of our imaginations to things we need to acquire to live a "complete and full life." Somewhere along the way (actually from the day we are born) we are told how to live and what we need in order to be happy. Go to school, read your books, avoid the teacher's dirty looks, get good grades, go to college, get a job, get married, buy a house, have 2.25 kids...the list goes on and on...
We all try to write our dreams into existence, influenced by society and who we feel we need to be at any given time in our lives. We attempt to control our future by attempting to write our own story. If you haven't learned this yet, life will allow you to learn it; control is merely an illusion in what at times feels like a chaotic world. In trying to write our own story we are not only trying to be in control of what happens to us, but we are trying to control our image. As much as we try to control our destiny, we quickly come to realize that our dreams may not happen in the order we wish or even happen at all.
So what are we to do? How do we handle when things don't happen on our timeline? What do we do if some of our dreams don't happen at all? Maybe, just maybe, it's time to realize that we aren't in control. Maybe, it's time we stop trying to write our own story. Maybe, it's time we let the author of life write it. Perhaps, God has a better story for your life, a story that surpasses your own desires of what you think will make you happy.
While I'll continue to write humorous stories and stories that reflect who I am, I've come to realize it's really not about me and whether or not I have 2.25 kids. I want my life to be a reflection of something more. I want my life story to be a reflection of God.
Here's to letting God write my life story. I have a feeling His dreams for my life are far better than my own, even though Kermit is pretty exciting.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Having Nun Of It
Dating or not dating. Either way, it can change who you are. Last year, I confess (unashamedly) that I attempted online dating.
I began talking to a guy online that will be called "Gamer". For those of you who have heard this story before, bear with me as it leads me to where I am now, which is currently contemplating a quiet yet peaceful existence in a convent.
On with Gamer, called this because he described himself as a video game geek, Gamer was really sweet in the beginning of our conversations (most of my dating stories will start out this way). As I got to know Gamer, I found out we were very different. For example, he was obsessed with video games and I was...well, not. I preferred crazy things like sunlight and fresh air. At first, I was willing to overlook some of these differences because he was quite entertaining and well, I like games, just different ones like...Apples to Apples or Hide and Seek.
I agreed to play the game and meet Gamer. One day before our date, I received a message from Gamer that said, "Are you sure you want to meet me? Ha ha." Well, I thought I was sure, until that question. Was Gamer asking me this because Gamer was nervous/insecure? Or was Gamer playing games with my heart? Like the Backstreet Boys, I was sick of that. I replied with, "Should I not be?" He then responded, "Ha ha. Sorry. I was just joking and right now I am racking up lives for a friend's mom."
Racking up lives?!? What the heck does that mean? I think that is the worst line to use in the online dating world. Ok, I suppose it could have been worse...like "Hi, I live in a creepy basement at my mom's house with my pet snake." or "What's your address? Because I think I'm here." But seriously, racking up lives? Was this gaming terminology?
So I respond with, "What does that mean?" To which he responds "Lol. Sorry. Blonde moment. I meant racking up leaves."
Well my friend, we don't rack up leaves. We RAKE up leaves, and now you look like a psycho leaf racker which is probably code for online serial killer.
It's stories like this that have made me think online dating should be called "Life-line dating" because you always want an out...or perhaps, "My life is on the line dating" because it seems so dangerous at times with all of the leaf rackers in the world. eHarmony would be called "e-Harm or Electronic Harm" and Match.com as my dear best friend puts it would be called "Take a lit match to it.com". I digress...
Researching an adequate convent has been no easy task. Did you know 50% of the convent population is over 70 years old? Did you know a nun's wardrobe is called a habit? More like a bad habit. Just kidding nuns reading this! As I think about what it would take to become a postulant, I envision the interview process going something like this:
Sister "I Almost Died Online Dating Too" (SIADODT): How do you feel about wearing our habit?
Me: I think I could handle it. I don't mind turtlenecks and I hate getting sunburnt.
SIADODT: What are your thoughts on humming plainchant?
Me: Is it like "The Song That Never Ends"? Because then I got this.
SIADODT: Would you be willing to participate in mass?
Yeah. I mean, I'm not really a fan of all the kneeling and standing, but I would need a workout.
SIADODT: How do you feel about disappearing from the secular world for 1-9 years?
Me: Uh.........can I write my parents?
SIADODT: How is your relationship with your grandma?
Me: What? What does she have to do with this? Ooooh.....the other sisters... we're cool.
Playing out the interview in my mind, could I really get into the habit of a habit?
After about two seconds of serious thought, I decided that I prefer my gym membership, having only one grandma and not feeling like I am dressed in preparation for a blizzard year round.
I began talking to a guy online that will be called "Gamer". For those of you who have heard this story before, bear with me as it leads me to where I am now, which is currently contemplating a quiet yet peaceful existence in a convent.
On with Gamer, called this because he described himself as a video game geek, Gamer was really sweet in the beginning of our conversations (most of my dating stories will start out this way). As I got to know Gamer, I found out we were very different. For example, he was obsessed with video games and I was...well, not. I preferred crazy things like sunlight and fresh air. At first, I was willing to overlook some of these differences because he was quite entertaining and well, I like games, just different ones like...Apples to Apples or Hide and Seek.
I agreed to play the game and meet Gamer. One day before our date, I received a message from Gamer that said, "Are you sure you want to meet me? Ha ha." Well, I thought I was sure, until that question. Was Gamer asking me this because Gamer was nervous/insecure? Or was Gamer playing games with my heart? Like the Backstreet Boys, I was sick of that. I replied with, "Should I not be?" He then responded, "Ha ha. Sorry. I was just joking and right now I am racking up lives for a friend's mom."
Racking up lives?!? What the heck does that mean? I think that is the worst line to use in the online dating world. Ok, I suppose it could have been worse...like "Hi, I live in a creepy basement at my mom's house with my pet snake." or "What's your address? Because I think I'm here." But seriously, racking up lives? Was this gaming terminology?
So I respond with, "What does that mean?" To which he responds "Lol. Sorry. Blonde moment. I meant racking up leaves."
Well my friend, we don't rack up leaves. We RAKE up leaves, and now you look like a psycho leaf racker which is probably code for online serial killer.
It's stories like this that have made me think online dating should be called "Life-line dating" because you always want an out...or perhaps, "My life is on the line dating" because it seems so dangerous at times with all of the leaf rackers in the world. eHarmony would be called "e-Harm or Electronic Harm" and Match.com as my dear best friend puts it would be called "Take a lit match to it.com". I digress...
Researching an adequate convent has been no easy task. Did you know 50% of the convent population is over 70 years old? Did you know a nun's wardrobe is called a habit? More like a bad habit. Just kidding nuns reading this! As I think about what it would take to become a postulant, I envision the interview process going something like this:
Sister "I Almost Died Online Dating Too" (SIADODT): How do you feel about wearing our habit?
Me: I think I could handle it. I don't mind turtlenecks and I hate getting sunburnt.
SIADODT: What are your thoughts on humming plainchant?
Me: Is it like "The Song That Never Ends"? Because then I got this.
SIADODT: Would you be willing to participate in mass?
Yeah. I mean, I'm not really a fan of all the kneeling and standing, but I would need a workout.
SIADODT: How do you feel about disappearing from the secular world for 1-9 years?
Me: Uh.........can I write my parents?
SIADODT: How is your relationship with your grandma?
Me: What? What does she have to do with this? Ooooh.....the other sisters... we're cool.
Playing out the interview in my mind, could I really get into the habit of a habit?
After about two seconds of serious thought, I decided that I prefer my gym membership, having only one grandma and not feeling like I am dressed in preparation for a blizzard year round.
Grandma?
Convent jokes aside, I've come to realize that I'm actually pretty content and have been content for quite some time. Getting to this place of contentment was not a short or easy road, but I'm here and it feels good. Having ruled out online dating and the convent, I think I'll just stick with my church and meeting people face to face. You might say, "I'm having nun of it." Nun pun intended.
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