I'm taking an awesome 90 day development course. For this course, I was asked to choose a woman from the Bible to write about. In a first person experience.
I immediately thought of my namesake, Sarah. I've been studying her for years now. Researching and learning about her, and quite frankly, relating to her in a lot of ways. My life has followed a similar path, moving from place to place (sometimes not really sure why, except for that gut feeling that God has asked me to do so), searching for who knows what on my journey while living my "barren" life...
...and then God shows up.
And what does He tell me? Metaphorically speaking, He says "I want you to have a baby." And I, being named Sarah, do none other than laugh. "Say what??" Then I give Him the I'm too old and inexperienced schpeel, about how I am barren and how that promise is just way too big. He then proceeds to convict my disbelief, "Is anything too hard for the Lord?" I try to cover my tush quickly by making something up...something along the lines of "I didn't really just hear that, did I? I'm making things up."
As I make my way through half-faith and some kind of denial, it starts to happen. Whether you believe in the gift of prophecy makes no difference here. You'll drop any skepticism and start listening when over the period of four years, every church service you attend with anyone that has that gift (who knows you or doesn't know you), comes up to you...sometimes running, telling you "You're supposed to have a baby. You're pregnant with something."
So, then, you really start to believe God talked to you. And you also start to believe that nothing is too difficult for Him.
But it's a journey.
The past couple days, I've been thinking a lot. I had already written my Sarah story for my course. But then, I started to contemplate a bit deeper. The Bible says that God spoke the word, and Sarah became pregnant. Then, it talks about how she had Isaac, and she laughed...the second time out of joy for what God had done. Promise fulfilled.
But, you don't hear anything about her journey in between.
I would assume if you're about to have a child that is the confirmation of a covenant between you and God, that will, in return, make you the Mother of many Nations, that there would be some challenges. My guess is to turn the laugh from fear to joy took a little time and some proverbial setbacks.
You know what I'm talkin' about. God asks you to do something or tells you who you are...and then all Hell breaks loose with the opposite. Pun intended. It's an uphill climb.
Each step comes with it's own devils; it's own myriad of lies and confusion, disbelief and self-pity. You wonder what the heck you're doing, this hurts too much, I'm not qualified. God really didn't say that.
But your heart pulses and you hear "I did say that."
And, so, on you go...
To new depths and new heights. Conquering some this day, and losing some on other days. It's real. It's life.
And somewhere in your old quest you put down "ruling the world" and instead, you start living The Love Story (as Jon Schmidt so beautifully portrays this in his song).
And so is the journey.
Life.
Part II coming soon...
(If you have the time, listen to the song all the way through. Jon talks about his motivation for the song. What a picture.)
(corresponding song: Love Story meets Viva la Vida by Jon Schmidt)
Friday, December 31, 2010
Monday, December 27, 2010
On the 12th day of OneDress.
Today marks 12 days wearing one dress. Even on Christmas.
I've included a few pictures as promised. But I have to admit that actually "wearing" the dress hasn't been nearly as hard as I thought. I've actually rarely noticed the fact that it's been the same dress. The change in me has been more much on the inside than on the outside.
I've journeyed with 12 women so far: Sarah (as in Abraham and Sarah), Tina Fey, Judy Garland, Lucille Ball, Eve, Pochahontas, Amelia Earhart, Sally Ride, Donna de Varona, Erma Bombeck, Nefertiti, and Abigail Adams. And I've journeyed with myself...embracing my womanhood and my one dress.
I've thought about the journey of woman. What she started with, what was taken away with one bite of an apple, where that left her, where she's overcome, and what there is still to conquer...
We've come a long way, yet there is still a lot left to fight for.
Perhaps part of my strong conviction about womanhood comes from having a baby girl. I see what the world has to teach her about her identity. No thanks. Been there, done that. Don't think it's worked for any of us. And the fact is, the pressures we grew up with, they seem to have gotten worse. Drugs. Plastic surgery. "Reality" TV. Women half naked on every magazine cover. Sex trafficking. No thanks. No thanks. No thanks. We deserve more. We were created for more.
We were not created to be dominated and abused by man (or other women). We were created to be adored and honored by man, to be a teammate. To run the race, too. To be a firework, if you will.
And so, during my 12 days, I've only been convicted further and inspired further to help create an opening. I see this 31 day adventure as just another chance to let my little light shine. It's never too late to be a firework. And out of my shooting colors, my bug-a-roo has the opportunity to explore her colors. And with the world she's heading into, her colors will need to be bright. To outshine what is dark and deceptive.
We all have something in us that makes us want to leave things better than before we got here. I think that now, as women, we have a distinct and creative opportunity to do just that. And what better way than Fourth of July freedom? Lettin' our lights shine. Rockin' our way through the sky.
It will come at a price. The journey will not always be pretty. It will involve enemies and challenges, possible failures and setbacks. But none will compare with what is ahead, what identity will be forged in the midst of turmoil. Light is always needed most when it's, well, dark.
So, ladies, tally ho. Here we go.
P.S. Apparently I'm not the only one thinking about women. If you have about an hour, I think you may LOVE this message. I definitely enjoyed it...It's from one of my favorite speakers...Kris Vallotton.
Watch here.
And, of course, I will leave you with lyrics...they make my world go round.
Do you ever feel like a plastic bag
Drifting through the wind, wanting to start again?
Do you ever feel, feel so paper thin
Like a house of cards, one blow from caving in?
Do you ever feel already buried deep?
Six feet under screams but no one seems to hear a thing
Do you know that there's still a chance for you
'Cause there's a spark in you?
You just gotta ignite the light and let it shine
Just own the night like the 4th of July
'Cause baby, you're a firework
Come on, show 'em what you're worth
Make 'em go, oh
As you shoot across the sky
Baby, you're a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make 'em go, oh
You're gonna leave 'em falling down
You don't have to feel like a waste of space
You're original, cannot be replaced
If you only knew what the future holds
After a hurricane comes a rainbow
Maybe you're reason why all the doors are closed
So you could open one that leads you to the perfect road
Like a lightning bolt, your heart will blow
And when it's time, you'll know
You just gotta ignite the light and let it shine
Just own the night like the 4th of July
'Cause baby you're a firework
Come on, show 'em what you're worth
Make 'em go, oh
As you shoot across the sky
Baby, you're a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make 'em go, oh
You're gonna leave 'em falling down
Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
It's always been inside of you, you, you
And now it's time to let it through
'Cause baby you're a firework
Come on, show 'em what you're worth
Make 'em go, oh
As you shoot across the sky
Baby, you're a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make 'em go, oh
You're gonna leave 'em falling down
Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
(corresponding song: Firework by Katy Perry)
I've included a few pictures as promised. But I have to admit that actually "wearing" the dress hasn't been nearly as hard as I thought. I've actually rarely noticed the fact that it's been the same dress. The change in me has been more much on the inside than on the outside.
I've journeyed with 12 women so far: Sarah (as in Abraham and Sarah), Tina Fey, Judy Garland, Lucille Ball, Eve, Pochahontas, Amelia Earhart, Sally Ride, Donna de Varona, Erma Bombeck, Nefertiti, and Abigail Adams. And I've journeyed with myself...embracing my womanhood and my one dress.
I've thought about the journey of woman. What she started with, what was taken away with one bite of an apple, where that left her, where she's overcome, and what there is still to conquer...
We've come a long way, yet there is still a lot left to fight for.
Perhaps part of my strong conviction about womanhood comes from having a baby girl. I see what the world has to teach her about her identity. No thanks. Been there, done that. Don't think it's worked for any of us. And the fact is, the pressures we grew up with, they seem to have gotten worse. Drugs. Plastic surgery. "Reality" TV. Women half naked on every magazine cover. Sex trafficking. No thanks. No thanks. No thanks. We deserve more. We were created for more.
We were not created to be dominated and abused by man (or other women). We were created to be adored and honored by man, to be a teammate. To run the race, too. To be a firework, if you will.
And so, during my 12 days, I've only been convicted further and inspired further to help create an opening. I see this 31 day adventure as just another chance to let my little light shine. It's never too late to be a firework. And out of my shooting colors, my bug-a-roo has the opportunity to explore her colors. And with the world she's heading into, her colors will need to be bright. To outshine what is dark and deceptive.
We all have something in us that makes us want to leave things better than before we got here. I think that now, as women, we have a distinct and creative opportunity to do just that. And what better way than Fourth of July freedom? Lettin' our lights shine. Rockin' our way through the sky.
It will come at a price. The journey will not always be pretty. It will involve enemies and challenges, possible failures and setbacks. But none will compare with what is ahead, what identity will be forged in the midst of turmoil. Light is always needed most when it's, well, dark.
So, ladies, tally ho. Here we go.
P.S. Apparently I'm not the only one thinking about women. If you have about an hour, I think you may LOVE this message. I definitely enjoyed it...It's from one of my favorite speakers...Kris Vallotton.
Watch here.
And, of course, I will leave you with lyrics...they make my world go round.
Do you ever feel like a plastic bag
Drifting through the wind, wanting to start again?
Do you ever feel, feel so paper thin
Like a house of cards, one blow from caving in?
Do you ever feel already buried deep?
Six feet under screams but no one seems to hear a thing
Do you know that there's still a chance for you
'Cause there's a spark in you?
You just gotta ignite the light and let it shine
Just own the night like the 4th of July
'Cause baby, you're a firework
Come on, show 'em what you're worth
Make 'em go, oh
As you shoot across the sky
Baby, you're a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make 'em go, oh
You're gonna leave 'em falling down
You don't have to feel like a waste of space
You're original, cannot be replaced
If you only knew what the future holds
After a hurricane comes a rainbow
Maybe you're reason why all the doors are closed
So you could open one that leads you to the perfect road
Like a lightning bolt, your heart will blow
And when it's time, you'll know
You just gotta ignite the light and let it shine
Just own the night like the 4th of July
'Cause baby you're a firework
Come on, show 'em what you're worth
Make 'em go, oh
As you shoot across the sky
Baby, you're a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make 'em go, oh
You're gonna leave 'em falling down
Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
It's always been inside of you, you, you
And now it's time to let it through
'Cause baby you're a firework
Come on, show 'em what you're worth
Make 'em go, oh
As you shoot across the sky
Baby, you're a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make 'em go, oh
You're gonna leave 'em falling down
Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
(corresponding song: Firework by Katy Perry)
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Christmas.
It was a good couple of days.
Next up, an update on my Dress Days!
(corresponding song: Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree by Brenda Lee)
Next up, an update on my Dress Days!
(corresponding song: Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree by Brenda Lee)
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Dream.
I was a little girl alone in my little world who dreamed of a little home for me.
I played pretend between the trees, and fed my houseguests bark and leaves, and laughed in my pretty bed of green.
I woke early this morning, the house is still dark. All are asleep. And I as I woke, I remembered my dream. And as I thought of this dream, I heard this song. In my life, dreams mean something. They aren't only a psychological manifestation of my feelings, but they are one of my love languages from God. A kiss if you will. A nudging to help me see my current process or what may be to come. God spoke to many in the Bible through the power of dreams, and through them many were saved from death and turmoil. And, in my life, He's proven to do the same over and over again. So, each night, as I lay my head down to sleep, I wonder what adventure awaits me.
I had a dream
That I could fly from the highest swing.
I had a dream.
In my dream, I was sitting across from my Dad in the parking lot of my high school. We were having a picnic. I looked down at my pink styrofoam plate, and on it was the juiciest, most fresh burger of all time with an array of fresh garden vegetables adorning it. Sprinkled on the side was a salad, green as could be. And covering the plate was homemade, bright orange mac and cheese. I mean, could lunch get any better? My dad looked at me and explained that there were two new burger joints opening at each entrance to my school. I was almost confused, but he told me again even though it felt like He'd said it plenty times before.
Long walks in the dark through woods grown behind the park, I asked God who I'm supposed to be.
The stars smiled down on me, God answered in silent reverie. I said a prayer and fell asleep.
In real life, I had been praying for some new "food". In my pantry, yes, the recipes were getting old. We ate the same dinners and were getting bored. But even more so, in my spiritual life. It's that point you get to when you say, "Ok, God, I'm ready to take the next step. This stuff just ain't cuttin' it anymore. I need to go deeper." Sometimes He draws this part out for awhile; it feeds our hunger, it woos us closer, it challenges our belief systems. And most of the time we tend to whine like the Israelites in the desert. "Ohhhhh God, this is so horrible. I'm so hungry. Don't you see I'm dying here?" All the while, in our dramatic attempt to get His attention, He looks down and smiles. And I hear this: " I am the bread of life. Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, yet they died. But here is the bread that comes down from heaven, which anyone may eat and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats this bread will live forever. This bread is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world.” John 6:48-51
I had a dream
That I could fly from the highest tree.
I had a dream.
And as I hear this, I think of my burger. It was the most exquisite burger of all time. Now, some may say it's sac-religious to compare Jesus to a burger. However, I don't think so. I think as my Dad, my Father if you will, bent down to eat a burger with me, that He knew exactly what He was doing. Burgers are my favorite food ever. If I only had one food to eat the rest of my life, it would be a burger. And God said, "Exactly." So we feasted and we ate, in remembrance of Him...who would pour out His life for all...to live and not die.
Now I'm old and feeling grey. I don't know what's left to say about this life I'm willing to leave.
I lived it full and I lived it well, there's many tales I've lived to tell. I'm ready now, I'm ready now, I'm ready now to fly from the highest wing.
I had a dream
(corresponding song: Dream by Priscilla Ann)
I played pretend between the trees, and fed my houseguests bark and leaves, and laughed in my pretty bed of green.
I woke early this morning, the house is still dark. All are asleep. And I as I woke, I remembered my dream. And as I thought of this dream, I heard this song. In my life, dreams mean something. They aren't only a psychological manifestation of my feelings, but they are one of my love languages from God. A kiss if you will. A nudging to help me see my current process or what may be to come. God spoke to many in the Bible through the power of dreams, and through them many were saved from death and turmoil. And, in my life, He's proven to do the same over and over again. So, each night, as I lay my head down to sleep, I wonder what adventure awaits me.
I had a dream
That I could fly from the highest swing.
I had a dream.
In my dream, I was sitting across from my Dad in the parking lot of my high school. We were having a picnic. I looked down at my pink styrofoam plate, and on it was the juiciest, most fresh burger of all time with an array of fresh garden vegetables adorning it. Sprinkled on the side was a salad, green as could be. And covering the plate was homemade, bright orange mac and cheese. I mean, could lunch get any better? My dad looked at me and explained that there were two new burger joints opening at each entrance to my school. I was almost confused, but he told me again even though it felt like He'd said it plenty times before.
Long walks in the dark through woods grown behind the park, I asked God who I'm supposed to be.
The stars smiled down on me, God answered in silent reverie. I said a prayer and fell asleep.
In real life, I had been praying for some new "food". In my pantry, yes, the recipes were getting old. We ate the same dinners and were getting bored. But even more so, in my spiritual life. It's that point you get to when you say, "Ok, God, I'm ready to take the next step. This stuff just ain't cuttin' it anymore. I need to go deeper." Sometimes He draws this part out for awhile; it feeds our hunger, it woos us closer, it challenges our belief systems. And most of the time we tend to whine like the Israelites in the desert. "Ohhhhh God, this is so horrible. I'm so hungry. Don't you see I'm dying here?" All the while, in our dramatic attempt to get His attention, He looks down and smiles. And I hear this: " I am the bread of life. Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, yet they died. But here is the bread that comes down from heaven, which anyone may eat and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats this bread will live forever. This bread is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world.” John 6:48-51
I had a dream
That I could fly from the highest tree.
I had a dream.
And as I hear this, I think of my burger. It was the most exquisite burger of all time. Now, some may say it's sac-religious to compare Jesus to a burger. However, I don't think so. I think as my Dad, my Father if you will, bent down to eat a burger with me, that He knew exactly what He was doing. Burgers are my favorite food ever. If I only had one food to eat the rest of my life, it would be a burger. And God said, "Exactly." So we feasted and we ate, in remembrance of Him...who would pour out His life for all...to live and not die.
Now I'm old and feeling grey. I don't know what's left to say about this life I'm willing to leave.
I lived it full and I lived it well, there's many tales I've lived to tell. I'm ready now, I'm ready now, I'm ready now to fly from the highest wing.
I had a dream
(corresponding song: Dream by Priscilla Ann)
Monday, December 20, 2010
I Love Lucy.
Women of my little world, I've been wearing the same dress for almost a week now. So far, so good. It's fun. Every time I step into it, I get to step into the life of a new woman. Myself, of course. I am a new woman every day, always learning a bit more about myself. And now, I also get to step into the dress of one of my new "friends".
This weekend, I took an acting workshop. So, I thought it only appropriate to bring a little Lucy with me. What a woman...and what a ride. My workshop was put on by a casting director from LA; she taught us what to do and what not to do if you're auditioning for a professional role. Somehow, Lucy seemed to break all the rules. Do you remember? She was always wanting to audition for one of Ricky's shows and would do almost anything in order to get the chance. If you've got ten minutes, you'll get a good laugh here.
So, as I prepared for my big class, I thought of her. Fiesty and determined, she moved forward...to get a chance to be, well, herself...funny and charming and workin' a crowd. And, this weekend, so did I. I went into it a little bit nervous. This casting director who taught our workshop, let's just say she's got more than a little bit of experience, and well, I didn't exactly know what I was stepping into as I signed up for the class. But as I sat there, in that circle, with a group of people vying for her attention, desperately asking her to make them the next Hilary Duff or Justin Timberlake, I thought to myself, "I'd rather just be me." No need to be anyone else, no need to push my way to the front of the line. I'll wait my turn...and while I'm waitin', I'll learn more about being me.
Right around this time, after she had interacted with us a little bit, she started spreading about 5 billion papers (exaggeration, yes, but it was a lot) all over the floor. She started glancing over them all trying to match each of us up with a monologue to perform for the class. After getting through a few people, she walks over to me and says "Sarah, this one's for you." Oh really....
As I try not to let out a chuckle, I look around the room at everyone desperately trying to memorize their monologue. And I think to myself, "Wow, it sure pays to be me. Thanks, God. " A little kiss from heaven. For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, see here.). As a friend of mine said in reference to this story, "God sure is in your business." Yes, yes He is, and we are on a journey together. And this little teenage dream of mine, well, it's starting to come true.
Onward and upward. Time to be me. Oh yea.....
You think I'm pretty
Without any makeup on
You think I'm funny when I tell the
Punch line wrong
I know you get me
So I let my walls come down, down
Before you met me I was alright
But things were kinda heavy
You brought me to life,
Now every February
You'll be my Valentine, Valentine
(Pre-chorus)
Let's go all the way tonight
No regrets, just love
We can dance until we die
You and I, we'll be young forever
(Chorus)
You make me
Feel like I'm living a
Teenage dream
The way you turn me on
I can't sleep
Let's run away and
Don't ever look back
Don't ever look back
My heart stops
When you look at me
Just one touch
Now baby I believe
This is real
So take a chance and
And don't ever look back
Don't ever look back.
And here is my Lucy day dress picture with my sweet sidekick! I'll be better at putting up more as they come. I've just been lazy about taking pictures! Sorry! ;)
(corresponding song: Teenage Dream by Katy Perry)
This weekend, I took an acting workshop. So, I thought it only appropriate to bring a little Lucy with me. What a woman...and what a ride. My workshop was put on by a casting director from LA; she taught us what to do and what not to do if you're auditioning for a professional role. Somehow, Lucy seemed to break all the rules. Do you remember? She was always wanting to audition for one of Ricky's shows and would do almost anything in order to get the chance. If you've got ten minutes, you'll get a good laugh here.
So, as I prepared for my big class, I thought of her. Fiesty and determined, she moved forward...to get a chance to be, well, herself...funny and charming and workin' a crowd. And, this weekend, so did I. I went into it a little bit nervous. This casting director who taught our workshop, let's just say she's got more than a little bit of experience, and well, I didn't exactly know what I was stepping into as I signed up for the class. But as I sat there, in that circle, with a group of people vying for her attention, desperately asking her to make them the next Hilary Duff or Justin Timberlake, I thought to myself, "I'd rather just be me." No need to be anyone else, no need to push my way to the front of the line. I'll wait my turn...and while I'm waitin', I'll learn more about being me.
Right around this time, after she had interacted with us a little bit, she started spreading about 5 billion papers (exaggeration, yes, but it was a lot) all over the floor. She started glancing over them all trying to match each of us up with a monologue to perform for the class. After getting through a few people, she walks over to me and says "Sarah, this one's for you." Oh really....
As I try not to let out a chuckle, I look around the room at everyone desperately trying to memorize their monologue. And I think to myself, "Wow, it sure pays to be me. Thanks, God. " A little kiss from heaven. For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, see here.). As a friend of mine said in reference to this story, "God sure is in your business." Yes, yes He is, and we are on a journey together. And this little teenage dream of mine, well, it's starting to come true.
Onward and upward. Time to be me. Oh yea.....
You think I'm pretty
Without any makeup on
You think I'm funny when I tell the
Punch line wrong
I know you get me
So I let my walls come down, down
Before you met me I was alright
But things were kinda heavy
You brought me to life,
Now every February
You'll be my Valentine, Valentine
(Pre-chorus)
Let's go all the way tonight
No regrets, just love
We can dance until we die
You and I, we'll be young forever
(Chorus)
You make me
Feel like I'm living a
Teenage dream
The way you turn me on
I can't sleep
Let's run away and
Don't ever look back
Don't ever look back
My heart stops
When you look at me
Just one touch
Now baby I believe
This is real
So take a chance and
And don't ever look back
Don't ever look back.
And here is my Lucy day dress picture with my sweet sidekick! I'll be better at putting up more as they come. I've just been lazy about taking pictures! Sorry! ;)
(corresponding song: Teenage Dream by Katy Perry)
Friday, December 17, 2010
Your Life in a Poem
I read my friend, Colleen's, blog last night. I did not know she was such a fantastic poet. She inspired me to pray in poem form today. It was a blast! So, I thought I'd pass this along. It is truly AWESOME in more ways than one. Go Colleen; it's your birthday!
Colleen's blog: Christmas of '98
Colleen's blog: Christmas of '98
Thursday, December 16, 2010
One dress for 31 days.
So, I have this friend from college, Amy, who has decided to wear one dress for 6 months. Yes! No, she is not crazy...she is fun! She was inspired to do something that would reduce over-consumerism, be a fashion challenge and also a fundraiser. So, she partnered with The Uniform Project to challenge women to think more deeply about beauty outside of a buy this, buy that, buy this kind of world while also raising awareness to a cause she is passionate about. Any donations she receives from her dress days, she's giving to The Daughter Project, a safe place for girls who have been victimized by sex trafficking in her local area. All the while, wearing one dress, with accessories that are only borrowed or already owned by herself. To see some of her progress, check out her blog.
Amy thought it'd be supportive to have six friends come alongside her, one month at a time during her journey of the one dress. So, here I am!
My version of the one dress will be slightly different...though similar. I decided that during my 31 days with her, I want to learn more about women in history; hence dress=woman. So, during each of my days, I'm choosing one feisty, adventurous woman of the past or present to gleen wisdom from, adventure with, and know more personally. However, I don't want to disclude donations if anyone wants to do so. In the event that any of you would like to support this adventure in a financial way, I will point you in the direction of The Daughter Project.
With that, here are the women I've got jotted down to study. One a day. If you have any more ideas for women you have looked up to or you think are interesting, let me know! My list is not necessarily definite. I look forward to sharing some of my learnings with you!
Amelia Earhart
Betsy Ross
Nancy Reagan
Pocahontas
Nefertiti
Queen Elizabeth
Tina Fey
Megyn Kelly
Rosa Parks
Jackie Onassis
Meryl Streep
Erma Bombeck
Abigail Adams
Lucille Ball
Susan B. Anthony
Clara Barton
Nellie Bly
Lydia Maria Child
Shirley Chisholm
Jacqueline Cochran
Joan Ganz Cooney
Donna de Varona
Sarah
Esther
Geraldine Ferraro
Anne Hutchinson
Helen Hayes
Sally Ride
Rosalyn S. Yalow
Sacagewea
Ella Fitzgerald
Kathryn Kuhlman
P.S. Here is my dress. Yes, I'll be wearing layers. I'll post more pictures as the days go by...
(corresponding song: Love is a Battlefield by Pat Benatar)
Amy thought it'd be supportive to have six friends come alongside her, one month at a time during her journey of the one dress. So, here I am!
My version of the one dress will be slightly different...though similar. I decided that during my 31 days with her, I want to learn more about women in history; hence dress=woman. So, during each of my days, I'm choosing one feisty, adventurous woman of the past or present to gleen wisdom from, adventure with, and know more personally. However, I don't want to disclude donations if anyone wants to do so. In the event that any of you would like to support this adventure in a financial way, I will point you in the direction of The Daughter Project.
With that, here are the women I've got jotted down to study. One a day. If you have any more ideas for women you have looked up to or you think are interesting, let me know! My list is not necessarily definite. I look forward to sharing some of my learnings with you!
Amelia Earhart
Betsy Ross
Nancy Reagan
Pocahontas
Nefertiti
Queen Elizabeth
Tina Fey
Megyn Kelly
Rosa Parks
Jackie Onassis
Meryl Streep
Erma Bombeck
Abigail Adams
Lucille Ball
Susan B. Anthony
Clara Barton
Nellie Bly
Lydia Maria Child
Shirley Chisholm
Jacqueline Cochran
Joan Ganz Cooney
Donna de Varona
Sarah
Esther
Geraldine Ferraro
Anne Hutchinson
Helen Hayes
Sally Ride
Rosalyn S. Yalow
Sacagewea
Ella Fitzgerald
Kathryn Kuhlman
P.S. Here is my dress. Yes, I'll be wearing layers. I'll post more pictures as the days go by...
(corresponding song: Love is a Battlefield by Pat Benatar)
Monday, December 13, 2010
The Birthday Boy.
Today is David's birthday. It's not every day that I get a chance to brag about him publicly. So, today, I will brag.
Thirty years ago, a bouncing baby boy was born. Baby of five, the youngest of three brothers and two sisters. Much like the mighty King David, he was a shepherd boy herding his sheep growing up. They might not have been real sheep, but you get the picture. He was small but mighty. Young but wise (he started his own business at five and sold life insurance to his neighbors for a quarter). He attacked Goliath with a slingshot and killed him (or maybe that was just his teacher's plant that he peed on and withered up). He was anointed to become King (Homecoming King, that is!)...and also is an amazing psalmist (he makes up some doozies for Ella June). And man can that boy dance.
He is today's Birthday Boy, and what a great day to celebrate him! He's been preparing his five smooth stones for awhile now; he's engaged and ready for battle. He's ready to defend honor and justice as well as his family and friends. He's learned the ways of royalty and is very well suited to be King; he takes joy in standing when a lady comes to sit at the table, and he always has me walk on the inside of the sidewalk so he'll get hit by a car first--if needed)...
And he can do the best butt dance around (those who've seen it KNOW what I'm talkin' about!). This is the party dance; ready to be pulled out for any special occasion...especially weddings. He used to strut his stuff as our college mascot. He'd shake his tailfeather at every football game and campus event, and when I saw him dance, it was crush central. Who is this mystery falcon boy?
Little did I know this falcon had his eye on me, too. I was in his computer class and didn't even know it. In his psalmist ways, he would later tell me the story of how he waited for me to walk into the doorway. His heart would sing and my hair would blow in the wind to Etta James' "At last....my love has come along." I don't know that it was really quite so dramatic--except we did live in the windiest city in Ohio. So, the hair blowin' in the wind, that could have definitely been true.
We finally met, across the table of a Miracle Child. She was beautiful and her name was Jody; a paraplegic and a sweetheart in this universe. Something about her was attractive, and before we knew it, we were both sitting there talking to her, looking up to meet one another.
Months went by, and we hung out at football games and philanthropies and Greek date parties. And, then one day, it happened. It was official. David walked with me in a cold and wet parking lot outside of the Education building. It was just a few days after September 11th, and this handsome falcon would turn to me and tell me how his life had changed. In this instant, I was so overwhelmed with joy, I passed out. It was like hands-raised-in-the-air, passed-out-in-a-puddle happy-- because it was this day, that I knew he would be mine. It was an act from the Divine.
And since then, our love has blossomed. Today's birthday boy has changed my life. He's the kind of gentlemen you want to raise lots of babies with. A man's man. A family man. The best dad around. He is brilliant and smart, gifted and generous. His middle name is compassion, and he is looked up to by many.
So, on December 13th, I am overwhelmed with thankfulness for my huh-knee, the birthday boy!
Happy Birthday, babe!
(corresponding song: I've Gotta Feeling by The Black-Eyed Peas)
Thirty years ago, a bouncing baby boy was born. Baby of five, the youngest of three brothers and two sisters. Much like the mighty King David, he was a shepherd boy herding his sheep growing up. They might not have been real sheep, but you get the picture. He was small but mighty. Young but wise (he started his own business at five and sold life insurance to his neighbors for a quarter). He attacked Goliath with a slingshot and killed him (or maybe that was just his teacher's plant that he peed on and withered up). He was anointed to become King (Homecoming King, that is!)...and also is an amazing psalmist (he makes up some doozies for Ella June). And man can that boy dance.
He is today's Birthday Boy, and what a great day to celebrate him! He's been preparing his five smooth stones for awhile now; he's engaged and ready for battle. He's ready to defend honor and justice as well as his family and friends. He's learned the ways of royalty and is very well suited to be King; he takes joy in standing when a lady comes to sit at the table, and he always has me walk on the inside of the sidewalk so he'll get hit by a car first--if needed)...
And he can do the best butt dance around (those who've seen it KNOW what I'm talkin' about!). This is the party dance; ready to be pulled out for any special occasion...especially weddings. He used to strut his stuff as our college mascot. He'd shake his tailfeather at every football game and campus event, and when I saw him dance, it was crush central. Who is this mystery falcon boy?
Little did I know this falcon had his eye on me, too. I was in his computer class and didn't even know it. In his psalmist ways, he would later tell me the story of how he waited for me to walk into the doorway. His heart would sing and my hair would blow in the wind to Etta James' "At last....my love has come along." I don't know that it was really quite so dramatic--except we did live in the windiest city in Ohio. So, the hair blowin' in the wind, that could have definitely been true.
We finally met, across the table of a Miracle Child. She was beautiful and her name was Jody; a paraplegic and a sweetheart in this universe. Something about her was attractive, and before we knew it, we were both sitting there talking to her, looking up to meet one another.
Months went by, and we hung out at football games and philanthropies and Greek date parties. And, then one day, it happened. It was official. David walked with me in a cold and wet parking lot outside of the Education building. It was just a few days after September 11th, and this handsome falcon would turn to me and tell me how his life had changed. In this instant, I was so overwhelmed with joy, I passed out. It was like hands-raised-in-the-air, passed-out-in-a-puddle happy-- because it was this day, that I knew he would be mine. It was an act from the Divine.
And since then, our love has blossomed. Today's birthday boy has changed my life. He's the kind of gentlemen you want to raise lots of babies with. A man's man. A family man. The best dad around. He is brilliant and smart, gifted and generous. His middle name is compassion, and he is looked up to by many.
So, on December 13th, I am overwhelmed with thankfulness for my huh-knee, the birthday boy!
Happy Birthday, babe!
(corresponding song: I've Gotta Feeling by The Black-Eyed Peas)
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Gotta go gotta go...
Gotta go right now.
I used to laugh at that commercial. I thought it was reeeeal funny.
Well, this little blog goes out to all the mamas and old ladies who USED to think that commercial was funny...
and now they call it real life.
I'd like to say that peeing my pants started after Ella, but I cannot lie. Nor would a lie work because too many people know the truth.
It all started with a tiara... and it got worse with a bowling ball of a belly... and has stayed worse when the bowling ball became a beauty (who will one day know what I'm talking about--and I'm not talking about her potty training years).
I remember it clear as day. The day many girls dreams of. She's standing on stage with five other girls and six guys waiting for the big announcement.
"And the Homecoming King is...David Humphrey." We all cheer loudly; what a guy he is!
And then suddenly we all become a bit nervous, we don't know whether to be excited or scared because the Queen will be announced moments later. If it's not me, then we can still be happy for David, but c'mon, that's gonna be awkward. And if it is me, we just may have made BGSU history (we get engaged the following weekend). And then the announcement: "And the Homecoming Queen is...Sarah Hague."
You thought it was going to happen here, didn't you?
Not quite...that would have been humiliating! It happened the next day after eight hours of tiara wearing and football game extravaganza-ing. Thank goodness.
It was probably more entertaining because it was the latter anyway. It had been a full day (pun intended) with pictures, meet and greets, the football game, etc. There wasn't much time to go if you know what I mean. Plus, I was just soaking up the moments of that grand time. After a long day, David and I decided to head back to my residence hall so that I could get a change of clothes, and we could go get some dinner. It wasn't until we reached the 3rd floor of my building when I realize, "Man, I gotta go to the bathroom." So, we walked a little faster. As soon as I reached the community bathroom, I desperately tried to type in the number code to unlock the door.
"Beep beep beep!" Wrong code. So, I tried again. "Beep beep beep!" Really?! I'm the RA on the floor; I know that's the code. C'MON!!! And finally, after a few more very desperate attempts to unlock the door, it swings open.
But it was too late.
I felt like Harry in Dumb and Dumber. "I can't stop once I've started, Lloyd!" I ran down the short hallway towards the stall. As I'm standing in front of the showers, tiara pinned tight to my cute hairdo and my sash hanging across my new shirt bought just for the event, I think to myself "Should I get in? I mean, I'm already going...what's a toilet gonna do?" Needless to say, I decide to progress to an open stall. At this point, I am way past ever getting out this situation a normal person. So, what do I do? I sit down on toilet.
Pants still on.
I have no idea what I'm doing.
Pure panic.
And I just keep going.
After I finished, I just kept sitting there. I mean, now I've really got trouble. My new pants (also bought just for the event) must be water resistant. So I now have a huge bulging diaper of sorts hanging in the toilet bowl. Now what? There's no getting out of here anywhere near dry. So, I stand up. And like Niagra Falls on a hot summer day, it goes rushing down my legs all over my red painted toenails.
At this point, I don't know whether to laugh or to cry. I'm at a loss for words. So, I laugh. And laugh hard.
I walk with stiff legs as the wet pants cling to my skin all the way back to the exit looking like I just got off a water ride at an amusement park...and then I peek my head out the door. Laughing hysterically in that "I can't really breathe or make a human type of sound because the wind is practically knocked out of me" I try to tell David what has happened. "Iiiiiiiiii pppp...pppp....eeeee...."
"What?" He says, completely confused.
"Iiiii peeeee pppppeedd..."
"What? I can't understand you."
"I peeeeeed my pants."
"Ewwwww. Go get a shower!"
Yeah, like I didn't already think of that.
And so it started. Only to repeat itself twice in one day when I was eight months pregnant...right before we were about to leave the house for a big job interview for David.
And then again, when I was nine months pregnant, and just let it out in the driver's seat of my car because the house was too far away...even though I was parked in the driveway.
It just sort of happens. You have an eight pound baby kick you in the bladder and then you'll know what I mean (well, except for that tiara day). And every day after that baby's born, you'll be reminded...when you sneeze, when you laugh really hard and pray to God for restraint, and when you bend over to pick something off the floor.
It's the dance of mama. And I wouldn't change it for the world.
On that note, g'nite all!
:)
(This is us pictured with the 1951 Homecoming Queen--pre-incident.)
(corresponding song: Send Me on My Way by Rusted Root)
I used to laugh at that commercial. I thought it was reeeeal funny.
Well, this little blog goes out to all the mamas and old ladies who USED to think that commercial was funny...
and now they call it real life.
I'd like to say that peeing my pants started after Ella, but I cannot lie. Nor would a lie work because too many people know the truth.
It all started with a tiara... and it got worse with a bowling ball of a belly... and has stayed worse when the bowling ball became a beauty (who will one day know what I'm talking about--and I'm not talking about her potty training years).
I remember it clear as day. The day many girls dreams of. She's standing on stage with five other girls and six guys waiting for the big announcement.
"And the Homecoming King is...David Humphrey." We all cheer loudly; what a guy he is!
And then suddenly we all become a bit nervous, we don't know whether to be excited or scared because the Queen will be announced moments later. If it's not me, then we can still be happy for David, but c'mon, that's gonna be awkward. And if it is me, we just may have made BGSU history (we get engaged the following weekend). And then the announcement: "And the Homecoming Queen is...Sarah Hague."
You thought it was going to happen here, didn't you?
Not quite...that would have been humiliating! It happened the next day after eight hours of tiara wearing and football game extravaganza-ing. Thank goodness.
It was probably more entertaining because it was the latter anyway. It had been a full day (pun intended) with pictures, meet and greets, the football game, etc. There wasn't much time to go if you know what I mean. Plus, I was just soaking up the moments of that grand time. After a long day, David and I decided to head back to my residence hall so that I could get a change of clothes, and we could go get some dinner. It wasn't until we reached the 3rd floor of my building when I realize, "Man, I gotta go to the bathroom." So, we walked a little faster. As soon as I reached the community bathroom, I desperately tried to type in the number code to unlock the door.
"Beep beep beep!" Wrong code. So, I tried again. "Beep beep beep!" Really?! I'm the RA on the floor; I know that's the code. C'MON!!! And finally, after a few more very desperate attempts to unlock the door, it swings open.
But it was too late.
I felt like Harry in Dumb and Dumber. "I can't stop once I've started, Lloyd!" I ran down the short hallway towards the stall. As I'm standing in front of the showers, tiara pinned tight to my cute hairdo and my sash hanging across my new shirt bought just for the event, I think to myself "Should I get in? I mean, I'm already going...what's a toilet gonna do?" Needless to say, I decide to progress to an open stall. At this point, I am way past ever getting out this situation a normal person. So, what do I do? I sit down on toilet.
Pants still on.
I have no idea what I'm doing.
Pure panic.
And I just keep going.
After I finished, I just kept sitting there. I mean, now I've really got trouble. My new pants (also bought just for the event) must be water resistant. So I now have a huge bulging diaper of sorts hanging in the toilet bowl. Now what? There's no getting out of here anywhere near dry. So, I stand up. And like Niagra Falls on a hot summer day, it goes rushing down my legs all over my red painted toenails.
At this point, I don't know whether to laugh or to cry. I'm at a loss for words. So, I laugh. And laugh hard.
I walk with stiff legs as the wet pants cling to my skin all the way back to the exit looking like I just got off a water ride at an amusement park...and then I peek my head out the door. Laughing hysterically in that "I can't really breathe or make a human type of sound because the wind is practically knocked out of me" I try to tell David what has happened. "Iiiiiiiiii pppp...pppp....eeeee...."
"What?" He says, completely confused.
"Iiiii peeeee pppppeedd..."
"What? I can't understand you."
"I peeeeeed my pants."
"Ewwwww. Go get a shower!"
Yeah, like I didn't already think of that.
And so it started. Only to repeat itself twice in one day when I was eight months pregnant...right before we were about to leave the house for a big job interview for David.
And then again, when I was nine months pregnant, and just let it out in the driver's seat of my car because the house was too far away...even though I was parked in the driveway.
It just sort of happens. You have an eight pound baby kick you in the bladder and then you'll know what I mean (well, except for that tiara day). And every day after that baby's born, you'll be reminded...when you sneeze, when you laugh really hard and pray to God for restraint, and when you bend over to pick something off the floor.
It's the dance of mama. And I wouldn't change it for the world.
On that note, g'nite all!
:)
(This is us pictured with the 1951 Homecoming Queen--pre-incident.)
(corresponding song: Send Me on My Way by Rusted Root)
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
If I were a song,
then tonight I would be this one. It's gripping my heartstrings and making me smile.
I've always wanted to play the violin...and the cello...and the piano. Bucket list items for sure...
(corresponding song: Perpetuum Mobile--Penguin Cafe Orchestra by Classical Chillout)
I've always wanted to play the violin...and the cello...and the piano. Bucket list items for sure...
(corresponding song: Perpetuum Mobile--Penguin Cafe Orchestra by Classical Chillout)
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Baby, it's Cold Inside.
Oh, it is. Our HVAC unit broke Friday (only for the downstairs). Yesterday, we had someone come check it out. We went over a few options and are now waiting for a part to come in so we can be warm again. Hopefully, our whole house will be heated by the end of the day.
Ella and I have had to be creative during the day to stay active upstairs. It's nice and warm up there. So, we've set up her exersaucer and Johnny Jumper in our bedroom and creative/craft room respectively. Yesterday, she got to play with all of Daddy's work shirts that need to be ironed as well as the plastic hangers they'll hang on (someday). We've taken baths and read books. We've made crafts and played with toys. We've cuddled in the big bed (and even let Howie in to snuggle, too). We skyped with Ella's Aunt Kate and cousin Judah while under the covers, and Ella has still gotten to take naps in her crib and on schedule (her room is upstairs, too, thankfully!). It's actually been quite fun.
Some people would wonder why we haven't gone somewhere to get out of the house. It's simple really. We're creating memories. This is one of those circumstances that needs to be taken advantage of...so that in years gone by, we will look back and say "Remember when the heater broke and Ella and I camped upstairs all day?" Then, we'll trapse down memory lane laughing about how we kept busy and remember all the prayers we prayed to be warm again.
And because of the poetic and philosophical person I am, I've also spent my time reflecting not only about what parts of my house are cold but what parts of my soul have gone cold also. I don't think anything happens "by chance", so if something occurs out of the ordinary, it's usually time for a little soul searching.
Perfect timing actually. Hanukkah started on December 1st. And Hanukkah is often referred to as the Festival of Lights--a time for God to reveal anything unclean that may be hanging around in our lives, a chance for us to repent of it and ask God for anew, and then a time to let our little lights shine. So, even though we're waiting for our heat to come back...I think heat and light are actually about the same thing. So, while we wait and create upstairs, we ponder and and say sorry for those cold parts, and ask that our lights would shine brightly again.
Just another reason to celebrate I would say!
Happy Tuesday.
(corresponding song: Baby, It's Cold Outside by Ray Charles)
Ella and I have had to be creative during the day to stay active upstairs. It's nice and warm up there. So, we've set up her exersaucer and Johnny Jumper in our bedroom and creative/craft room respectively. Yesterday, she got to play with all of Daddy's work shirts that need to be ironed as well as the plastic hangers they'll hang on (someday). We've taken baths and read books. We've made crafts and played with toys. We've cuddled in the big bed (and even let Howie in to snuggle, too). We skyped with Ella's Aunt Kate and cousin Judah while under the covers, and Ella has still gotten to take naps in her crib and on schedule (her room is upstairs, too, thankfully!). It's actually been quite fun.
Some people would wonder why we haven't gone somewhere to get out of the house. It's simple really. We're creating memories. This is one of those circumstances that needs to be taken advantage of...so that in years gone by, we will look back and say "Remember when the heater broke and Ella and I camped upstairs all day?" Then, we'll trapse down memory lane laughing about how we kept busy and remember all the prayers we prayed to be warm again.
And because of the poetic and philosophical person I am, I've also spent my time reflecting not only about what parts of my house are cold but what parts of my soul have gone cold also. I don't think anything happens "by chance", so if something occurs out of the ordinary, it's usually time for a little soul searching.
Perfect timing actually. Hanukkah started on December 1st. And Hanukkah is often referred to as the Festival of Lights--a time for God to reveal anything unclean that may be hanging around in our lives, a chance for us to repent of it and ask God for anew, and then a time to let our little lights shine. So, even though we're waiting for our heat to come back...I think heat and light are actually about the same thing. So, while we wait and create upstairs, we ponder and and say sorry for those cold parts, and ask that our lights would shine brightly again.
Just another reason to celebrate I would say!
Happy Tuesday.
(We had to make a trip downstairs to make lunch. Ella decided to watch Veggie Tales.)
(corresponding song: Baby, It's Cold Outside by Ray Charles)
Monday, December 6, 2010
What a Weekend.
It was just great. I almost want to brag it was so good. Quality family time. Big sales. And house decorating...including our first live, family tree. We figured now that we have a babe, we need to go real evergreen from now on. It has been a delightful addition. The smell just wafts throughout downstairs, and Ella enjoys staring at the colored lights. And, Howie, he's just trying to not get his eye poked out when he goes in for a sniff.
It feels like Christmas now. Up until this weekend, it didn't quite feel like it. I kept forgetting. But after a few buy one get one free sweaters at Old Navy (until the 11th, I believe! Check it out!) and me glancing at every kiddie tea pot set and powerwheel in Target yesterday, I'm officially in gear. It's Ella's first Christmas, and we're ready to make it magical. David's already been telling Ella his Christmas stories (in the spirit of his dad--the best storyteller there is). He shares with her how St. Nick was so inspired by the birth of Jesus that he gave gifts to all the children of the world. And so it is out of great thankfulness and love of our Great Gift that we give presents to one another. And we celebrate all month long. Advent and Hanukkah, too. Lights and Love and Redemption. Ohhhh yea. (He's brilliant, isn't he?) What a dad!
We spent our evenings this weekend with a fire in the fireplace. Our heater broke on Friday, so we decided to take advantage of a gas fire. It was a blessing in disguise. We had the fire roaring all weekend with Christmas music blaring, Ella playing with boxes of tree lights, and even a few snowflakes (a rarity here).
After Ella went "Nigh night", we turned all the lights down, plugged in that big tree, poured two glasses of wine, and watched our first disc of "I Love Lucy". Thank you, Netflix. We can now catch up on our new, favorite 1950's sitcom.
We laughed under our blanket as Lucy did antic after antic, comedy at its finest. Fun fact: Did you know that Lucille Ball's high school drama teacher told her that she would never make it as an actress? I just love that about her.
All that to say, it was fun and festive...and Christmas. Tis the season to be merry. And, merry, we were...
(Pictures to come. I'm in the process of making our stockings!)
(corresponding song: This Christmas by Donnie Hathaway)
It feels like Christmas now. Up until this weekend, it didn't quite feel like it. I kept forgetting. But after a few buy one get one free sweaters at Old Navy (until the 11th, I believe! Check it out!) and me glancing at every kiddie tea pot set and powerwheel in Target yesterday, I'm officially in gear. It's Ella's first Christmas, and we're ready to make it magical. David's already been telling Ella his Christmas stories (in the spirit of his dad--the best storyteller there is). He shares with her how St. Nick was so inspired by the birth of Jesus that he gave gifts to all the children of the world. And so it is out of great thankfulness and love of our Great Gift that we give presents to one another. And we celebrate all month long. Advent and Hanukkah, too. Lights and Love and Redemption. Ohhhh yea. (He's brilliant, isn't he?) What a dad!
We spent our evenings this weekend with a fire in the fireplace. Our heater broke on Friday, so we decided to take advantage of a gas fire. It was a blessing in disguise. We had the fire roaring all weekend with Christmas music blaring, Ella playing with boxes of tree lights, and even a few snowflakes (a rarity here).
After Ella went "Nigh night", we turned all the lights down, plugged in that big tree, poured two glasses of wine, and watched our first disc of "I Love Lucy". Thank you, Netflix. We can now catch up on our new, favorite 1950's sitcom.
We laughed under our blanket as Lucy did antic after antic, comedy at its finest. Fun fact: Did you know that Lucille Ball's high school drama teacher told her that she would never make it as an actress? I just love that about her.
All that to say, it was fun and festive...and Christmas. Tis the season to be merry. And, merry, we were...
(Pictures to come. I'm in the process of making our stockings!)
(corresponding song: This Christmas by Donnie Hathaway)
Friday, December 3, 2010
Life is good.
So, we've got this little problem(s). It's time for Ella to start eating her big girl food. By big girl food, I mean those little puff ball things that she can pick up with her fingers. Cheerios that dissolve quickly, if you will.
Sounds exciting, doesn't it?
She's great at picking them up. A real pro I tell you. But, when it comes to putting them on her tongue, she turns into a turtle trying to shove its head back into its shell. If you can finally manage to trick her a little bit and get one on her tongue (even after showing her that mama will eat one), it will just sit there. And a few seconds later, it's followed with a gag reflex. So, I figure we'll give up for today and try again tomorrow. She'll like 'em when she's ready.
Onto the next problem. I'm sure you've already seen it for yourself. I'm not sure that Ella necessarily sees Howie's rudeness as a problem. She doesn't like the little puffs, so why can't Howie have them? And Howie has learned quickly that Ella gets to eat the good stuff. He looks at me like with his big brown eyes and whines "How come I don't get any of those green puffs? I need my greens, too." Ok, Howie, ok. (Any parents with big dogs have any tips? Howie will soon be following Ella around at the hip no doubt.)
In other news, it's not even Christmas yet, and we have a huge case of spoiled around here. Between Ella's toys and newspaper ads (oh does she love reading the paper) and Howie's new habit of lounging on the couch all--day--long, I'm not sure if spoiled even does them justice. Life is good around here.
Have a great weekend!
(corresponding song: Papa loves Mambo by Perry Como)
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Highly Favored.
As much as I love the Christmas sing-songs of the season, while I'm baking or ridin' in the car or cleaning the kitchen...I really love the deep, classic hymn-type Christmas songs. They're very rich and full of revelation.
And then comes Sarah McLachlan, who re-creates one of those classics, and it takes on a whole new meaning. It not only brings the sovereignty and meaning of Christmas, but it also arouses the mystery of the season.
And it truly is a mystery. It starts with a young virgin girl. A young girl who caught God's attention. And He chose her to birth the Savior. We don't know too much about Mary, her attributes or what she did that gave her great favor. We can take other scriptures that describe a person whom God favors, and we can likely apply them to her young life. But other than that, she is a bit of a mystery. So, because of this, every Christmas, I spend a lot of time thinking about her. Her story sounded like this:
In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a village in Galilee, to a virgin named Mary. She was engaged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of King David. Gabriel appeared to her and said, “Greetings, favored woman! The Lord is with you![d]”
Confused and disturbed, Mary tried to think what the angel could mean. “Don’t be afraid, Mary,” the angel told her, “for you have found favor with God! You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be very great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his ancestor David. And he will reign over Israel[e] forever; his Kingdom will never end!”
Mary asked the angel, “But how can this happen? I am a virgin.”
The angel replied, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the baby to be born will be holy, and he will be called the Son of God.
What’s more, your relative Elizabeth has become pregnant in her old age! People used to say she was barren, but she’s now in her sixth month. For nothing is impossible with God.[f]”
Mary responded, “I am the Lord’s servant. May everything you have said about me come true.” And then the angel left her. Luke 1:26-38
I've thought quite a bit about favor over the last few years while I've studied Mary. It seems to me that she knew quite a lot for her young age, and not only that, but she had a heart that was pure. Had her heart not been pure, the angel could not have said that God was with her. And the fact that God was with her, this is what brought her esteem.
I've heard a lot of prayers prayed for favor. Some have been legitimate, and some have been more like begging. I'm not throwing stones, I surely have had my fair share of favor-asking prayers. We do it, mostly unknowingly, desperately aching for something we want to go our way in our lives. And, yes, God wants to bless us. However, I think there is a much deeper understanding of favor that we need to acknowledge and that we desperately need to receive. It's this kind of benevolence that Mary attained.
It's the kind of consideration when from high in Heaven, God looks down on earth, and He picks you.
It's the kind of blessing that is not necessarily seen as great in society, at least not at first.
Because, often, it goes against the cultural grain.
It's not the "please, God, raise me up high and lofty so that I can change the world and look good" kind. Instead, it's the "supernatural, pregnant young virgin who was shunned by society and delivered a baby in a manger" kind.
It starts with humility.
He rode into town on a donkey before he died on the cross and rose from the tomb.
Because the ride of the donkey is where His journey is. Mary rode a donkey on the way to the manger in Bethlehem, the only place where there was room. And then, Jesus, rode the donkey on Palm Sunday, one week before He would rise from death.
This favor, which Mary attained, was significantly life-altering. She was not the next pop icon or the most spiritual of all TV evangelists. She was a teenager, who said yes to God, and who gave her life to raise the Messiah.
She was not perfect, she had sin. She was a human being like you and I. And, yet, she was noticed by God and highly favored. She's really refreshing.
Because in our culture, it's dog eat dog. How can I one-up the person next to me to rise to the top? Maybe if I work more hours or win this prestigious award or that corner office. How can I compliment myself?
When, Mary, she was chosen differently. And her favor was met with great humility.
It seems as though if we get above Black Friday and parties and the hustle and bustle, we might be able to hear this story that God tells us every single year. We might be open to making some room in our home for the birth of a baby. As backward thinking as it may seem, that's what Christmas is about. Making room...not only in our home but also in our heart. For the Messiah to be born...in us.
And when that happens, we will know great favor.
"To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory." --Colossians 1:27
(corresponding song: Mary by Sarah McLachlan)
And then comes Sarah McLachlan, who re-creates one of those classics, and it takes on a whole new meaning. It not only brings the sovereignty and meaning of Christmas, but it also arouses the mystery of the season.
And it truly is a mystery. It starts with a young virgin girl. A young girl who caught God's attention. And He chose her to birth the Savior. We don't know too much about Mary, her attributes or what she did that gave her great favor. We can take other scriptures that describe a person whom God favors, and we can likely apply them to her young life. But other than that, she is a bit of a mystery. So, because of this, every Christmas, I spend a lot of time thinking about her. Her story sounded like this:
In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a village in Galilee, to a virgin named Mary. She was engaged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of King David. Gabriel appeared to her and said, “Greetings, favored woman! The Lord is with you![d]”
Confused and disturbed, Mary tried to think what the angel could mean. “Don’t be afraid, Mary,” the angel told her, “for you have found favor with God! You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be very great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his ancestor David. And he will reign over Israel[e] forever; his Kingdom will never end!”
Mary asked the angel, “But how can this happen? I am a virgin.”
The angel replied, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the baby to be born will be holy, and he will be called the Son of God.
What’s more, your relative Elizabeth has become pregnant in her old age! People used to say she was barren, but she’s now in her sixth month. For nothing is impossible with God.[f]”
Mary responded, “I am the Lord’s servant. May everything you have said about me come true.” And then the angel left her. Luke 1:26-38
I've thought quite a bit about favor over the last few years while I've studied Mary. It seems to me that she knew quite a lot for her young age, and not only that, but she had a heart that was pure. Had her heart not been pure, the angel could not have said that God was with her. And the fact that God was with her, this is what brought her esteem.
I've heard a lot of prayers prayed for favor. Some have been legitimate, and some have been more like begging. I'm not throwing stones, I surely have had my fair share of favor-asking prayers. We do it, mostly unknowingly, desperately aching for something we want to go our way in our lives. And, yes, God wants to bless us. However, I think there is a much deeper understanding of favor that we need to acknowledge and that we desperately need to receive. It's this kind of benevolence that Mary attained.
It's the kind of consideration when from high in Heaven, God looks down on earth, and He picks you.
It's the kind of blessing that is not necessarily seen as great in society, at least not at first.
Because, often, it goes against the cultural grain.
It's not the "please, God, raise me up high and lofty so that I can change the world and look good" kind. Instead, it's the "supernatural, pregnant young virgin who was shunned by society and delivered a baby in a manger" kind.
It starts with humility.
He rode into town on a donkey before he died on the cross and rose from the tomb.
Because the ride of the donkey is where His journey is. Mary rode a donkey on the way to the manger in Bethlehem, the only place where there was room. And then, Jesus, rode the donkey on Palm Sunday, one week before He would rise from death.
This favor, which Mary attained, was significantly life-altering. She was not the next pop icon or the most spiritual of all TV evangelists. She was a teenager, who said yes to God, and who gave her life to raise the Messiah.
She was not perfect, she had sin. She was a human being like you and I. And, yet, she was noticed by God and highly favored. She's really refreshing.
Because in our culture, it's dog eat dog. How can I one-up the person next to me to rise to the top? Maybe if I work more hours or win this prestigious award or that corner office. How can I compliment myself?
When, Mary, she was chosen differently. And her favor was met with great humility.
It seems as though if we get above Black Friday and parties and the hustle and bustle, we might be able to hear this story that God tells us every single year. We might be open to making some room in our home for the birth of a baby. As backward thinking as it may seem, that's what Christmas is about. Making room...not only in our home but also in our heart. For the Messiah to be born...in us.
And when that happens, we will know great favor.
"To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory." --Colossians 1:27
(corresponding song: Mary by Sarah McLachlan)
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