Brittnie's Weblog

The 'Yes Policy'

2010-09-23T17:47:00.003-04:00

A couple years ago I decided that every time a guy asked me out on a date I would say yes. It started when I read some articles from a University paper in which the the writer was encouraging more guys to ask girls, and from which I want to re-iterate to all the guys: ASK MORE GIRLS OUT!

Sometimes I’m utterly shocked, when my girl friends tell me they haven’t been asked out in months, or even years. As a women, I appreciate that in the case of initiating dates, men most often bear the brunt of this burden, and while I’m sure there are a variety of reasons they aren’t asking, the most obvious must be the fear of rejection. So I decided to do my part and ease those fears, by saying yes. It’s not that I was being asked out a lot anyway, but I do think that simply by being willing to give someone a shot, I got more dates.

Now, I must admit, it wasn’t a blanket yes policy. There were instances where I felt that saying 'no' was the most respectful and kind thing for both of us. I didn’t want to be the girl that took advantage of a guy for a free meal, or lead him on to believe that I was interested when there was “no way.” (It’s pretty obvious when someone is a “no way.") One such instance was at a gas station, where a guy leaning up against his truck called me “baby,” and asked if I’d like to meet him at the mall sometime. Not saying that the right girl wouldn’t have appreciated his courage in asking a total stranger, but that’s just not me, so I thanked him and said ‘no’ with the sweetest smile I could muster.

It just so happens that one year ago today I said ‘yes’ to a blind date with some guy that my pastor had been trying to set me up with for years. We met at Borders after I got off work and had a relatively standard dinner date. He was nice. Very “mature” I recall, but unfortunately he lived in California, and we all know long distance relationships are a total waste of time!

Really, the whole point of the yes policy was about keeping my mind open to possibilities that I might not be able to imagine. I really do believe that God can orchestrate romance way better than Hollywood. I didn’t want to write the right person off the list for the wrong reason. Several “possibilities” later and that guy from California turned out to be the one who fulfilled and then far exceeded my imagination of how love is meant to be.

*My humble apologies if this advice sounds like another annoying person who thinks that because they found someone they have it all figured out. The truth is, I had it all figured out before the guy. hehe. ;)

5 Things I learned about dating:

1. Admitting it is always the first step. If you want to find someone, start by admitting it to yourself, then your friends. Wanting to be with someone is healthy and normal.

2. Men: Flowers really are THAT important. Women: Food really is THAT important.

3. Break up once. Don’t fool yourself into believing that you can be “friends” afterwords. Don’t call or email. Just end it.

4. Never settle. Its better to be single for the rest of your life than settle. Even worse is being the person someone settled for.

5. Waiting to say “I love you” is overrated. Love is a growing thing, and it will not mean the same thing it did the first time as it will the hundredth or thousandth time.. When you love someone, say it.

Horseback Riding Alongside the Pyramids of Giza

2010-01-21T04:48:00.006-05:00

On Saturday I was invited to join some of my Egyptian colleagues, Amira and Rania, on a Horseback riding trip in Giza. Giza is on the outskirts of Cairo and it is where you’ll find the most well known pyramids of Egypt.

Amira is an experienced rider and also invited a couple of her fellow experienced riding friends: Achmed and Kareem. Chinwe is my American colleague who had to catch a flight out that evening. She wasn’t quite sure about joining us, but for those of you that know me, you know that I love to manipulate people in to joining group activities by whatever means necessary. I chose the trash talk method, which for those of you that know me know: its just talk. I started bragging to Chinwe about how I was this great rider and since she’s older than me she’d probably lose the race. I know, I’m terrible…but it worked.

The truth is that I took some English saddle lessons for a few months when I was a kid but I’m waaay over-confident. When we arrived in Giza I told our horse guide to give me the fastest horse he had. “Give me the Mercedes of all your horses,” I said, and his name was “Cowboy.”

I quickly realized that English saddle is rarely used for practical riding purposes and “Cowboy” most certainly had not been trained for the likes of my “sophisticated” style. However, Cowboy WAS trained!

All the horses were trained to ignore their rider and only listen to the trainer. This makes total sense, since most of the riders are inexperienced foreigners who could very easily give the wrong signal and wind up in a dangerous situation.

We were accompanied by three guides and unbeknownst to myself we were divided into 2 groups: the “Experienced” and the “Joy Riders.” We calmly rode through the streets and into a small village with narrow dirt lanes and apartment buildings on either side. Colorful laundry hung on lines out the windows along with signs offering the passerby a variety of methods of touring via horses, camels, or chariot. It was an odd mix of commercial and residential as children played and women tended to their household casually acknowledging the caravan passing by. I had to tease Chinwe when one of her guides, a boy about 8 years old, trotted down the street holding her reigns.

The scenery began to thin and then the hooves hit the sand. I was anxious to run. But at this point I still foolishly thought I was in control. ‘Snap!’ ‘Snap!’ the guide cracked his whip and the four of us were off on a gallop leaving Chinwe and the Joy Riders in the dust.

On one hand, it was absolutely exhilarating to be galloping along with a group of people as if I really knew what I was doing, but then on the other I remembered that I didn’t. I quickly realized that I had ‘no’ control over the speed at which the horse moved which explained why my earlier attempts to “giddy-up” had produced nothing more than a skip. My riding plan developed in 3 stages. 1.) Try not to look inexperienced 2.) Ok, just DON’T fall off! 3.) OMG! Live! Must….Live!

The stirrups were too long and at one point both my feet were out completely as Cowboy was running at top speed. I clenched as tightly as I could to stay on and focused on the only thing I had any control over which was steering.

Something else you should know is that in the pictures, those sand dunes look so smooth and silky soft. However, in real life its more like chunky peanut butter…EXTRA chunky. The chunks being rocks. Hard rocks.

We made it to the top of one of the dunes where there was a small shack and blocks stacked to make a fence like enclosure. It wasn’t much but apparently it was our stopping point as everyone demounted. I was trying not to let on how incredibly difficult that was for me but I was grateful to get off the horse even though I wasn’t too steady on my feet. It was hot and I was exhausted and sore already. From somewhere inside the shack they produced cold drinks but what I really needed was some “junk in my trunk.”

Fifteen minutes later the Joy Riders moseyed their way to the top. It really was an incredible view. Surrounded by rocky dunes, topped with a blue sky and THE pyramids.

Much to my surprise Amira translated that the guide was very impressed with my riding. I think he was just impressed that I didn’t fall off, as was I! I hinted as much as my pride would allow that we should take it easy on the way back, and I tried to join the Joy Riders but Cowboy was clearly programmed for my guide because just the sound of the whip sent him and the rest of us off in a rumble.

The good news is I made it back safely with a wonderful memory as well as incredibly sore inner thighs.

How to overcome Jetlag!

2010-01-10T04:14:00.002-05:00

Yay! I made it to Cairo. Its Sunday and the first day of the work week here. I got a full nights sleep last night and I'm ready for the rest of the week. Sleep is very important to me. Even through my college years I rarely got less than 8 hours of sleep a night. And when I’m sleepy there’s no arguing with my alter ego, “Jezebel,” who on a daily basis tricks me into hitting the snooze or succumbing to 10 - 12 hours of sleep. (She’s very manipulative ya’ know)

Jetlag can be the worst, but over the last few years of my traveling experiences I’ve discovered a few ways I can avoid jetlag almost entirely. Half the battle is all in your head, so here are 5 tips on how to overcome Jetlag:

1.) The night before you travel stay up as late as possible. The idea is to mess up and confuse your sleep schedule and so you'll be ready for number...
2.) Sleep on the plane. For one it makes the trip go faster, plus you'll already be exhausted from staying up the night before. If sleeping upright is uncomfortable for you, as it is for most people, Dr. Brittnie suggests taking Tylenol PM with Melatonin (a natural relaxer) and you'll be sleeping with you're mouth open before the plane takes off.
3.) Do not keep track of the time while you're traveling. Try not to think about whether you would typically be awake or asleep at that time. The key is to confuse your body enough so that it will follow the light/dark schedule of wherever you're going.
4.) Once you arrive start tracking the time so that you can tell your confused self whether you're tired or not.
5.) The first couple of days are key so depending on the time of day you arrive here’s what to do:
LATE MORNING/EARLY AFTERNOON: Take a nap. Keep the windows open and lights on if necessary so your body know this is a JUST a nap.
EVENING: This is usually the most difficult time of day for jetlag so make sure you plan evening activities away from the bed. Shopping, museums, dinner, anything to keep yourself moving and distracted from sleep.
BEDTIME: Take another Tylenol PM and get in to bed even if you don’t feel sleepy.

Our Earthly Incubator

2009-12-07T13:55:00.008-05:00

This blog is dedicated to Eden and Zoe.

You may have heard of, or even know my friends Jen and Jason who recently gave birth to triplets at 24 weeks of gestation back in October. Two of the babies passed away due to complications, but the third baby, Juliana, is doing well. Jason and Jen have a blog they update daily, graciously sharing their struggles and triumphs.

After being in the incubator for 3 weeks Jen and Jason got to hold their daughter for the first time through a special technique called “kangaroo care.” This technique is especially important to premature babies that spend most of their time in an incubator. The key component of the “kangaroo” is skin to skin contact, but what this means for Juliana, who is still on a ventilator to help her breathe, is that they must be very still while they hold her. They cannot rock her or move at all because of the tube in her throat. In addition, her skin is very delicate and they’re not supposed to rub it. Instead they press their warm hands against the tube and gauze-free patches of her skin, passing their love from hand to tiny head.

Literally thousands of people are reading their blog praying for Juliana and her family, as they see the love this baby has to live for. Even I, just a friend and onlooker wish I could somehow tell her how loved she is or perhaps whisper in her ear “Do you know how much? Can you see how they love you?”

Inside the incubator, Juliana is made as comfortable as possible. Her bed is warm, soft, and safe from infection, but who could blame her for feeling alone in there. What she doesn’t know is everyday just a few feet away her parents sit watching over her. She can’t feel it, but they are there.

Even if they hooked up the incubator with a giant flat screen TV with a Sesame Street marathon playing 24/7, it could never replace her need to feel her father’s fuzzy chest pressed up against her tiny ear. At the end of the day, what Juliana needs most, is to feel her parents close.

I can’t help but think of God outside the incubator, who also longs for us to feel His love. Even when we think we’re all alone, even when our closeness to him seems out of reach, he is there, desperate for us to remember the times he held us close; but who can blame us for feeling alone? Alone in our heated homes, soft beds, and shelves full of books and DVD’s to entertain and distract; but eventually we all come to the place where we realize that these things are not enough. We need companionship. We need friends, we need family, and most of all we need a God to teach us how to love them.

In their blog Jason shares how the kangaroo care has a physically positive impact on Juliana as she snuggles down and relaxes in their arms. Juliana finds peace in the kangaroo care, and we too live for moments of closeness, but its not enough.

Jen and Jason and their entourage of support long for the day when they strap that baby in their back seat and drive home. I too want to go home.

-END-

You can read more about Juliana's journey as shared by her parents on their blog: jasonandjenpayne.com

Laundry Slave

2009-08-26T08:06:00.004-04:00

Click Here to listen to the audio Podcast version of this blog!

For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
-Luke 12:34

Vacuuming is a pain, and I hate doing the dishes, but laundry is the never-ending chore that seems to suck my life away. I hate doing laundry but fortunately I have enough clothes that I can get by with only doing it about once a month.

After switching the laundry from washer to dryer a few weeks ago I felt a sense of accomplishment, “ah, the dreaded chore is almost done.” But then I realized, its not! Because after I pull it out of the dryer I have to haul it back upstairs, fold it, distribute it to the appropriate places—towels in the closet, table cloths and linens in the dining room, clothes to my room—and finally I have to actually put it away in the appropriate drawers. I’m pointing out these seemingly tiny steps because its amazing to me how my false sense of accomplishment will delay for several days or weeks this final destination of my clean laundry from dryer to drawers! It’s not uncommon to find a week old bag of clean laundry unfolded in my room, or clean folded laundry in the living room or bedroom. “It’s soooo close! It’s almost there! Just put it away!”

But then, why bother? The cycle of laundry slavery is just one morning away from starting all over again. I wake up and before I leave the house, all the rejected tops, or bottoms, or belts, etc., are strewn amongst the dirty, or folded-but-not-put-away clothes. My room would be pretty clean most of the time if it wasn’t for all my laundry and shoes all over the place.

And that’s when this joke of laundry slavery stops being so funny. It’s still sort of funny, but now its also really true. My laundry owns so much of my time. Be it the tedious process of cleaning it, or putting it away, to the mornings where I stand in front of my satiated closet lamenting that “I have nothing to wear.” This slavery goes on to infect not only my time but also my mind (and money). I flip through fashion magazines or notice other women and I think about the things I don’t have or I make a mental note of the things I need. But it doesn’t even end there because then I have to shop for these clothes, and when my closet gets too full I have to sort and give these pieces away by the bag full, with usually an article or two that was never worn.

It’s not just my clothes; it’s my shoes too. It’s the jewelry, the must have Mac gadgets, or more music from iTunes. I don’t know, maybe its the American culture of consumerism, or entitlement, or immediate gratification…probably its all those things, but mostly it just makes me feel okay about myself. New clothes make me feel beautiful, successful, wanted…at least for a little while, until I’m home slaving over my pile of finicky fabrics.

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear. Life is more than food, and the body more than clothes… But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.
-Luke 12: 22-31

Philosphical mumbo-jumbo

2009-04-16T15:50:00.002-04:00

“As for me, all I know is that I know nothing.” -Socrates

Is the scientific mind some how superior to the one that is not?

It seems that the subject of science is left to a mind that while it is capable of grasping large mathematical equations and complex scientific theories, it is a mind that struggles to apply the basic social skills to interact with the world they have mathematically figured out. As much of a generalization as that may be, it is comparable to a mind of people I associate myself that seem to quickly shy away at the very word: multiplication.

It would be like me saying that because I have a mind that understands some of the complexities and implications of interaction between humans that I somehow understand the whole world; including science. To me the world is too complex to divide it into ideas that can be summed up within itself. A building cannot not be built without the collaboration of a variety of minds: scientific and not. It requires the architect, the project manager, the janitor, marketing, the city’s approval…so on and so forth. Every specialty seems to leak its way into another specialty which then leaks its way into another which is evidence that the whole world is complex-ally (Brittnie word…haha) and immeasurably intertwined. Even those that we can trace are only traced so far before we lose sight of its effects.

But maybe this conclusion is meaningless because it is coming from just a person who readily admits they’re lack of understanding about a science of any kind. However, no matter who’s head a mind is beheld I find it small minded to conclude that any one group of people has all the answers to their specialty—be it religion, or science—without acknowledging the effects and importance of the other group …which thus requires me and them to acknowledge that we do not know everything. I cannot know everything about relationships just a s a scientist cannot know everything about science.

In other words, I have no idea what I’m talking about.

CONFESSION: Now available Online!

2008-09-26T10:59:00.010-04:00

Ok, well…I might as well just say it: a few weeks ago I joined eHarmony. Yep, I did it. What does it mean? Well, it depends on who's listening.

I've gotten several reactions from people such as "You're too young!" "Wow, you're desperate," to my personal favorite: "You must be the hottest person on there," (lol) to "yeah, I've tried that, and even know a few couples that got married after meeting on eHarmony."

That last one was the most surprising to me. "You mean it actually works?" I guess I'm not really expecting anything to happen. The main reason I decided to join was to put my mind at ease that I'm at least making an effort.

Being out of college and working a full time job has been a real adjustment, and weekends seem like my chance to catch up. I've realized that I no longer have the time or opportunities to meet new people that being in school provided, so now I would have to make an effort. Ugh.

So I decided to join eHarmony with some encouragement from the only friend to whom I dared admit I was considering the option. It really wasn't an easy decision. I think what I dislike the most about the idea of online dating is the inevitable question: "How did you meet?" followed by the-very-unromantic-sounding answer: "We met online." Eeeek.

However, I've realized that online dating has changed a lot over the years. It isn't just a surface hook up with some random person. It's not a chat room full of a bunch of desperate, unattractive introverts. Hello! I'm on there…haha

I guess the reason I had to blog about this was because it's been hard admitting this to friends because of all the stigmas related to the subject. So this is me just putting it all out there in the hope of changing you're mind.

Of course meeting and dating someone you met online is no substitute for those in-person interactions but it's also no surprise that in the web-based world we live in today it's easy to meet and establish meaningful relationships because of a cyber space contact…in fact if you're reading this, you're getting to know me a little better, right?

I'M ON EHARMONY! ARE YOU?

(Whew! I'm glad that's over with...)

--END--

Have I Told You Lately?

2008-08-18T15:17:00.004-04:00

Twice in the last month I've read the account of Jesus Baptism, and both times I was struck by something:

In Mark 1 verse 10 its says that Heaven was "torn" open.

That word torn is such a dramatic word, and no doubt the scene itself must have been very dramatic. Can you imagine?

There you are standing along the banks of an ordinary river watching John baptize someone again in an ordinary way when the sky itself gets ripped open!

My mind can imagine all sorts of things when I wonder what the guts of a blue sky look like. In any case those painted pictures from church of clouds and sunbeams coming down just don't seem to do the scene justice…

However what really struck me most about this scene wasn't the drama in the sky but the voice amidst the drama. The voice of God. It did not command Jesus to go out and share the gospel! Or tell him to preach on repentance.

Instead God came down on Jesus in all His glory and might to gently tell him the three most important words ever spoken: I love you.

"You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased."

And that was it.

I'm struck by this because so many times I have been amid some of my own drama from which I've cried out to God and I've gotten the very same response.

Brittnie…I love you.

And at first my response is yeah, yeah, yeah. Your God. You love everyone…but what about a solution to my problem? What are you going to do? When are you going to help me? Will things ever change? God I need you now!

Brittnie…I love you.

I'm not sure how many times he says it before I actually hear it…I supposes its however many times it takes…because when I hear him say my name, and say those words, there is a peace that washes over and calms my heart.

Mark 1 verse 10 goes on to say that when Jesus looked up he also saw the Spirit descending on him like a dove.

Peace.

Do you believe that God would rip the skies open just to tell YOU he loves you? Because He has, and He is. When will you listen?

Hot Earth? Hot Topic. Lets Talk.

2008-07-02T18:58:00.003-04:00

Hey there my faithful readers, (Hey there my faithful readers, readers, readers)
Hello? (Hello, ello, ello?)

Okay for those of you who are turned off by the subject of Global Warming don't completely ignore this blog. Here is a link to a buzzin' article from Wired Magazine, and the title itself is tantalizing. Read it. At least part of it.

ATTENTION ENVIRONMENTALISTS: Keep Your SUV. Forget Organics. Go Nuclear. Screw the Spotted Owl.

Big changes can happen in small circles. So it would be great to have a discussion: lets ask questions, lets disagree!

*Photo copied from Wired Magazine web page.

SEX, Kites, Cake, and Sugar (Part 1)

2008-04-24T07:19:00.007-04:00

CAKE AND SUGAR
Lately I've been doing a lot of thinking about sex. Maybe its those ever raging hormones of my youth but also I've been reading Rob Bell's book SEXGOD.

Why is it that the very title seems to give us a jolt, as if we're all asking, "What does sex and God have to do with each other?"

God and Sex.

This question of what God has to do with sex is real in spite of the obvious answer of "he created it." A valid point, but hardly obvious, especially when we look at sex today. Today sex has been diminished down to a spoonful of raw sugar.

Imagine a world renowned chef stands before you and describes the cake he's about bake. He tells you about each of the freshest ingredients that he's gathered from around the world to bake into a delicious gourmet cake. Then he makes you an offer; you can either have a bite of raw sugar now, or a bite of this award winning cake later.

Now, or later?

Sex, the kind of sex that God intended is meant to be like this cake.
When sex is diminished down to a spoonful of sugar its no wonder people say "its no big deal." But it is a big deal. It is because everywhere we go we're surrounded by opportunities to consume sex.

Sex isn't just the act of intercourse; this is why Jesus said that just looking at another woman is committing adultery. Because sex is looking. Sex is seeing the curves of a woman's body and the muscles of a man's. Sex is foreplay, it is skin, and warmth. Sex is the first touch, and sex is the ultimate connection.

And this is why Sex Sells. Because EVERYONE wants to feel connected. So the car companies put a woman in a bikini next to the car and someone looks. They look and subconsciously the car = sex = connection. Clothing and perfume companies show women laughing and feeling beautiful, because beauty = love = connection.

For better or worse our lives are centered around connection. We feel connected when we go to church and people relate to one another about certain beliefs. We feel connected when our boss, supervisor, or professor tells us what a good job we're doing. We feel connected when we tell a joke and people laugh. We feel connected when we are deeply accepted by another person.

Connection.

The ultimate connection isn't just sex. It is sex and God. If he is the initiator of the ultimate connection, then he must be the master component of ultimate sex! Because only God will ever accept us so deeply. Only He desires us so entirely in all our imperfections that in turn makes us feel connected.

Without God the sex picture is incomplete. Its like baking a cake without the flour.
Everybody's looking for the cake but often we settle for a spoonful of sugar.

Remember our imaginary chef. His offer was for a bite of the cake, just a bite. This is also a parallel for sex because (even within the bounds of marriage), sex requires self-control and boundaries. Self-control is the constant tension we feel when we apply wisdom to a situation, and without wisdom sex is like a kite without a string.

Keep an eye out for "Sex, Kites, Cake and Sugar Part II" where I'll explore the idea that sex within the bounds of self-control and wisdom yields better sex!

I'd love to hear your two cents! Comments and criticisms are welcome.

2008-02-11T21:09:00.001-05:00

“I don't have to look too far or too long awhile To make a lengthy list of all that I enjoy It's an accumulating trinket and a treasure pile Where moth and rust, thieves and such will soon enough destroy”

-Nichole Nordeman, Legacy

It’s a common question: what would you take with you if your house was burning? A common question with a variety of answers, usually spurred by some sort of emotional attachment: “I’d take my grandmothers shawl,” “or my wedding dress,” “my baseball collection...”

But for me, and for little or no sentimental reasons, it would be my computer.
My computer holds a lot of my class work, personal journals, and lots of pictures, not to mention the hardware itself cost me nearly four grand. Everything else in my life is replaceable, everything else can burn.
The practicality of my answer lends no room for an interesting story, however it’s not that I don’t have interesting or valuable items in my room, because I do. Throughout my travels and experiences I am a collector of silly sentimental things. I have shoeboxes full of ticket stubs, handwritten notes, rocks and dirt even. I have a Murano glass bowl from Italy, a Pashmina shawl from India, and a blue license plate from Panama, all of which I consider valuable and irreplaceable, but they are still just things.
So please excuse me for a moment while I climb onto my soapbox. I am annoyed by people who fuss when someone breaks something apparently considered valuable to them. It can be as worthless as an old pencil, or as valuable as an ancient artifact, and I still don’t think it’s worth fussing about.
I don’t mean to say that it’s not worth collecting or taking an interest in old things, or anything. What I am saying, and from what I’ve observed and even struggled with personally, is that it’s not worth letting our things become more important than our people.
The older lady I lived with passed away a month ago, and now every Sunday her family comes over to sort through her things. So many things! Little things, papers things, boxes, magazines, calendars, rolls of wrapping paper that while she was alive she could not let go of. Perhaps she believed that if those things were given away, thrown away, or even stolen, that a piece of herself would be gone with it? But now she is gone, and all these things sit in the rain on the curb waiting for a stranger to take them away. Many of these things aren’t even meaningful to the people who loved her most. And that’s just it: they loved her, not her stuff, and to them with or without it she was still their mother, or grandmother, or friend.
I suppose one of the reasons I’ve turned into a “stuff hater” is because of my own inability to keep track of my things. Unfortunately my whole life I’ve been losing pairs of glasses, breaking cameras, and I even had computer stolen. It’s a frustrating character trait to have, and its certainly contributed to my lack of attachment to things. But the big lesson I’ve learned each time is how life still goes on with out that stuff.
I’m reminded every time that my real treasures are not in this world, and the only thing I’ll be taking to Heaven are my friends. But if I could strike a deal with God, I think I’d ask Him to bring my computer.

"Its better to have loved and lost..."

2008-01-17T22:52:00.000-05:00

It's very hard for me to wrap my mind around the fact that in one moment LIFE is the center of your world, and the next death can take someone away so completely. It takes nearly 24 hours of flying, driving, and layovers for me to arrive in India, about as far away as I can go without coming back, but in an instant some one can leave this earth and be the farthest away.

Yesterday the older lady I've been living with, Mrs. Osborn, fell and hit her head. This caused an aneurism in her brain and a few hours later she passed away. Just a few moments before she fell she had been downstairs in my room talking to me about the major water main break on New Hampshire. We chatted for a few minutes and she told me that she would be out running some errands in the afternoon. A few minutes later I went upstairs for breakfast and found that she had fallen.

When I was seven my parents moved away from Florida, and all my family that lives there, to Pennsylvania. Ever since I haven't lived close to any family, so living with Mrs. Osborn was like having a grandmother for the first time. While I've only known Mrs. Osborn for the past three and a half months, I've cried more than when my own grandmother passed away. I miss her, and the thought of going home now without her there sitting at the table watching TV, or telling me stories about her travels, is just awful.

Last night my mom came and stayed with me so that I wouldn't be alone, and we talked about how fortunate Mrs. Osborn was to go the way she did. For one she died old, which is on my to do list. If you knew her you'd know how independent she was. Although I offered regularly to help out with things around the house she would only let me vacuum. She died with in a few hours, quickly, and relatively painlessly. She died still living in her own home and with her precious independence.

While it is hard to have to adjust to this sudden loss I think that old saying nicely sums up my feelings on the subject: "It is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all." If you're missing someone, be thankful that you had someone to miss.

P.S. Sorry readers for the last couple of not-so-happy-blogs. However, I suspect some good news could be just around the corner. :0)

PART 2 Second Choice

2007-11-01T13:20:00.001-04:00

So, I’ve been a bit depressed, and I thought that a cat would be the perfect cure for my loneliness. I went to Petsmart and came home with everything I’d need for a cat: a collar, two bags of food, bowls, cat box, toys, treats, scratching post, and a name.

For those of you who don’t know, I recently moved in with a friend’s grandmother. About two months ago Mrs. Osborn’s husband passed away and the family really wanted someone who could just be there to help with a couple things around the house. They invited me to stay in the basement apartment, and I gratefully accepted. However a cat was not included in the invitation.

Living with Mrs. Osborn has been very pleasant. She has treated me like one of her own grandchildren, and it’s been nice to have some one around. Over the last few weeks I’ve been very busy with two jobs, and so much of my conversations with Mrs. Osborn have been me trying to scoot off to my next appointment without offending her or seeming rude. Much of the time my I-need-to-go signals, or even blatant comments haven’t seemed to restrain her from going on to the next story. I was feeling particularly rushed one day as a finally managed to close the front door behind me only to realize I’d left my keys inside. I meekly knocked on the door and she let me back in to grab my keys and rush out again. I felt guilty for cutting her off, but what could I do? I HAD to get to work. By the time I got to my car however a familiar voice came into my head… “Here I am living in this nice place, (did I mention rent free?) the least I can do is be available for conversation.” So I decided that I would plan ahead and make time to listen to her stories, sort of as my rent.

A few days later it was Friday and I was once again rushing around trying to get things ready for my weekend plans. The phone rang and Mrs. Osborn was apparently speaking to friend whom had also lost her husband. She must’ve asked Mrs. Osborn how she was doing in regards to her own loss. I heard her start to talk about it as I hurried down the steps, but something made me stop dead in my tracks and I listened for a moment and this is what I heard: “Every day, throughout the day I’ll see something, or hear something and my first thought is, ‘Oh, I’ll have to remember to tell this to Bob,’ and then I realize...” A moment later I was back to finishing the task at hand, but I made a note of those words. Later I was thinking about what she said and I realized that at the end of the day I was her second choice: she’d much rather be sharing her stories with the one person who’s really cared for the past 40 some years, but now he’s gone, and instead she’s stuck with some young girl who doesn’t know her friends or all the memories they shared together. And truth be told, she’s my second choice. With decades between us it can be hard to find common ground, but there it was: we are both each other’s second choice, and in our own ways we are both quite lonely.

What I thought would be ‘rent’ I see is really a part of Gods plan: I need her just as much as she needs me. God brought us together for just a time as this, and for that I am thankful.

PART 1 Airing out my Laundry- depressed

2007-11-01T13:11:00.000-04:00

I feel the need to explain something before I post my next blog. It is simply this: I’m a little depressed right now. Don’t worry, I’m okay, but the truth is I am. It’s hard to admit this to myself, and even to some of my closest friends. But here I am admitting it to random people or acquaintances on myspace. Some of you know one or more of the reasons I’ve been feeling this way, and certainly many of you have wondered about my funny green profile picture.

I can look back at other periods of my life where I can see that I was probably depressed, or felt pretty alone, but this is the first time that I’ve been so keenly aware of my feelings in the moment. I don’t mean to be the rain cloud to the rest of my friends, but this is who I really am right now.

Let me say that the purpose of me admitting this isn’t at all to elicit some kind of pity, or sympathy, please don’t! My reason is because I know it’s hard for a lot of people to admit this. Truthfully, I am embarrassed to admit it myself, but now I see that as silly pride. What are we ashamed of? The fact is WE ALL go through these times where we feel sad, or lonely, and admitting it, choosing to feel the pain is the healthy thing to do. Admitting it allows other people to RELATE! So while I’m not accepting pity I will gratefully accept encouragement, prayer, advice, social invites, and money. (Okay, I’m just kidding about the money.) …but if you really want to text me and I’ll give you my mailing address.

The good news is, that I know that this is for a time. I hope its not for too long, but even through these hard and lonely days, God has carried me, comforted me, and loved me, and I know no other feeling in the world that is better than communion with God regardless of my circumstances. Hopefully through all this I’m learning to be more sensitive to other people going through the same thing. Hopefully this will help us relate to one another, and enable us to be open about depression.

Alright, now that I’ve explained that I can work on Part 2.

If-he-truly-loves-you-QUIZ

2007-09-21T21:47:00.000-04:00

I don’t know how many times I have heard people say that phrase either in movies, or from friends: “If he truly loves you…he’ll be willing to let go,” or “he won’t be able to let go,” or “he won’t expect you to go too far.”

But lately as I begin to think about my own love, and some of the things that I’ve done to people that “I truly love” I’m forced to admit that then perhaps I do not “truly” love anyone. How can I? Because True love would never force their way into someone else’s life, and True love would never forget what you had together, and True love would never take more than what belongs to them. I am guilty of all these and so much more.

Two things happen as I think about this: the first is I realize how exposed my own mistakes and inadequacies in True love are. But the second is some sort of familiarity with this True love. Ya know I think I’ve seen this somewhere. Oh! I know! You know that movie “Never Been Kissed,” with Drew Barrymore? Well, he didn’t let her go, and then he forgave her at the end and gave her another chance and…No that’s not it.

And then the:
“Of course!!” Jesus. He is the only one that never forces his way in, but never lets go. He is the only one that forgives us over and over, and yet still passionately pursues us in romance. He’s the one that gets it right the first time.

There are two points I want to make in this blog: the first is to give him, or her a break. Whoever you may be giving the if-they-truly-love-me-quiz to ask first “do they truly love God?” and realize they are human like you, and we are all capable of making the wrong choices about people that we “truly love.”

The second thing is to remember where True love comes from. The difference between worldly love, and Christian love is forgiveness. In the world we are told to cut those people who don’t respect us, or don’t appreciate us out of our lives. But Christ calls us to love them, and THAT is True love. True love is loving someone in spite of their flaws, and what may be their repetitive mistakes. True love accepts, and forgives making itself vulnerable all over again to the pain that we humans will inevitably inflict on each other. Of course this doesn’t mean that we are to fling ourselves onto the tracks to be run over.
But when we have Christ in our hearts we can give True love, and forgive when others fall short.

(What this means to me is that even though he isn’t perfect, and even though he may not be the right guy for me, I must choose to continue to love him. True love, Godly love, loves past the end of a relationship, and past the anger. True love chooses to hurt instead of hate.)

2007-02-28T22:23:00.000-05:00

2006-11-01T22:48:00.000-05:00

I was reading a bit of the story in the Bible where the Israelites are
fighting and as long as Moses keeps his hands raised the Israelites
are winning the battle. It wasn't actually because his hands were
raised that they won, of course it was Gods power and not Moses. So
why then did God want Moses to keep his hands raised? God could have
won the battle without Moses raising hands even once, so what was the
significance?

"When Moses' hands grew tired, they took a stone and put it under him
and he sat on it. Aaron and Hur held his hands up—one on one side, one
on the other—so that his hands remained steady till sunset."

Can you imagine what that must have been like for Moses and Aaron and
Hur? I wonder what they talked about as Moses arms went limp and Aaron
and Hur held them there. And I wonder if the people fighting down
below looked up and saw the three men on the hill with Moses arms
raised up. I like the picture of the three men standing together
sharing the burden. I'm sure that Aaron and Hur also grew tired of
holding up Moses' arms, but it's beautiful that they did it together.
I think God won the battle this way as a symbol for how we should
share each others burdens. What do yout think?