Just got real

At this moment, I am riding in the truck on the way to the airport to see them off. I'm surprised by the lack of emotion I'm experiencing right now.

Eh. I'll crash later. Something to look forward to.

It's amazing that they fit most of their lives in four bags. They were very large bags but still, only four. I am very excited for them and their new adventure and I look forward to hearing all about it. You can check it out at darinandalexis.blogspot.com.

I love you guys and I'll catch you on the flip side.

Logic vs. Crazy

I’m usually a very logical person.  Yeah, I get emotional but even then I have logical permission to feel that way.  For example, when a moment of worship takes my breath away and I find tears streaming down my face, I find logic there, too.  I know my God is amazing and awesome (in the true sense of the word) so it’s natural for me to get caught up in Him.  Very logical.

However, lately, logic seems to depart at some odd times.  Unfortunately, those times have been increasing in frequency. I’ve been snappish and short-tempered.  God bless my husband because he has been the recipient of most of this.  He’s so awesome hat he mostly just goes with it.  What’s so frustrating is that I have a somewhat logical reason for my illogical behavior. That reason does not make it any less illogical.

The reason is simple: Darin and Alexis are leaving. No, they aren’t dying and there is Skype and Google+.  But I know that as bad as I am about keeping in touch with people (sorry, Liza), Darin is worse. And we’ll have an international time difference to contend with.  Hong Kong is on the other side of the world! Literally!

Before I continue, I feel like I need to say that I am so excited for them and their adventure.  I admit I am a bit jealous.  I would never dream of asking them not to go because this is an incredible opportunity for them and who am I to get in the way of God working in someone’s life.  So with that being said, I continue.

Darin hates it when people get emotional (he’s gonna hate this blog) so I’ve done my very best to disassociate my emotions when I’m around him. I know he’s upset about leaving me because he’s been picking on me quite more than usual.

I’m losing my two best friends.  Darin gets me like no one else does.  At the same time he knows exactly what will hurt me. Unless he’s in a bad mood, we always have fun together.  Usually laughing at someone else’s expense. I can be stupid around him but then have a theological discussion or an intellectual conversation about the human psyche. He was there when my heart was torn out by a church that I loved and encouraged me to not give up on ministry. He told Curtis’ friends to butt out otherwise they would scare Curtis off. He gets very angry when someone (other than him) makes me cry. He’s the one I sing best with. And I’ve had some phenomenal singing partners.

Alexis has this innate sense of what I’m feeling at any given moment. She sees when Darin might go too far with his teasing. She is also the best crafting partner. We figure out how to do things together and whenever I make something, she gets so excited about it, and vice versa.  She’s a much better artist than I could ever hope to be.  She “gave” me one of her paintings and I’m afraid I’ll start crying every time I see it.  It’s gonna look fantastic in my office with the green wall behind it.  Just sayin. Who else is gonna dance with a shower curtain and sing “I Know You?”

These are two of the people I love most in the world. I can live without my two best friends. I just don’t want to.

John Calvin needed a hug

Today was an interesting day.  I got a lot done in preparation for Mother’s Day.  My creativity has been running thin all day.  However, it’s been quite some time since I’ve posted here so I borrowed some of my past creativity. I've decided to reach back into the old archives.  I'm talking from the Diaryland archives.  I wrote this previous blog while trying to write a huge paper about John Calvin's view of the worth of God for worship.  After studying John Calvin for a while, I decided that I didn't care much for him as a person.

Anyway, here's the old blog.  I remembered it and laughed a lot.  Hope you enjoy.

Have you ever gone out to eat by yourself? I don't do it frequently but it happens. Like tonight, it happened. I had a craving for the rice noodles at Hunan. I was feeling a bit sorry for myself as it was, but that can be blamed on John Calvin, the unhuggable jerk.

So there I am with my sesame chicken, rice noodles, and a tall Dr Pepper, listening to the conversation of people around me. There was one couple who obviously had met in a bar.    Don't pretend that you don't know what I mean. There was another man who was sitting at his table alone. I'm sure the mullet had nothing to do with his solitude.

The table that piqued my interest was the table consisting of 3 men and 3 women. All of them were at least 60 years old. 2 of the women were wearing some really interesting wigs. They had a wide variety of topics to discuss. They went from Tom DeLay to the fact that tornado alley is shifting to taxes to something about smoke and mirrors (apparently the woman who said that comment is well acquainted with smoke and mirrors because they are in her bathroom as she's putting that wig on. these people aren't her friends otherwise they would tell her that it looks like she has off-ed a diabetic squirrel and then glued it to her scalp) and then finally the conversation moved to cats.

The other wig woman has a daughter that owns the land adjacent to hers. Her daughter wants to turn it into an animal shelter. She already has a few animals that were rescued and is now seeking sanctioning from the state. Some of these animals that are already there is a litter of kittens whose mother died just after they were born. The father is nowhere to be found, the deadbeat. Now, before you go, "Awwwwww," there is still another element to this story that has yet to be revealed. The mother had rabies while she was pregnant. Because of the rabies, these kittens all have brain damage.

You haven't lived until you've seen a 65 year old woman with a bad wig on doing an imitation of a retarded kitten trying to eat.

What goes around…

So here's a story:

In 1986, Mikele Mebembe was on holiday in Kenya after graduating from Northwestern University.

On a hike through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air. The elephant seemed distressed, so Mikele approached it very carefully.

He got down on one knee and inspected the elephant's foot and found a large piece of wood deeply embedded in it. As carefully and as gently as he could, Mikele worked the wood out with his hunting knife, after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot. The elephant turned to face the man, and with a rather curious look on its face, stared at him for several tense moments. Mikele stood frozen, thinking of nothing else but being trampled. Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned, and walked away.. Mikele never forgot that elephant or the events of that day.

Twenty years later, Mikele was walking through the Chicago Zoo with his teenaged son. As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the creatures turned and walked over to near where Mikele and his son Tapu were standing. The large bull elephant stared at Mikele, lifted its front foot off the ground, then put it down. The elephant did that several times then trumpeted loudly, all the while staring at the man.

Remembering the encounter in 1986, Mikele couldn't help wondering if this was the same elephant. Mikele summoned up his courage, climbed over the railing and made his way into the enclosure. He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder. The elephant trumpeted again, wrapped its trunk around one of Mikele's legs.....and slammed him against the railing, killing him instantly. Probably wasn't the same elephant.

42

Today is my parents’ 42nd anniversary.  I sent them both a text this morning saying, “Happy Anniversary!!  42 years is a loooooong time.”  My mom wrote me back and said, “Not for us.”  Not gonna lie, I started to tear up.  Then my dad responded by texting both of us with a message meant for my mother, “42 years is a long time to love somebody.  But you made it easy.”  I believe a tear actually escaped to make its way down my face.

Most of the people I have continual contact with do not have the kind of parents that are still so in love with each other.  Every time at this time of year I find myself dwelling on how grateful I am for the parents I have.  When I was in kindergarten, I met Victoria.  I had asked her to spend the night one weekend and she said that she couldn't because she had to go to her dad’s.  I was so confused.  Victoria was the first person I had heard about with parents that were divorced.  I went home and asked my mother what divorce meant.  My mom explained it to me as only she could.  My mom was awesome about being truthful and accurate in her descriptions without overwhelming my young mold-able mind. (the way she taught me about what sex was is another brilliant example.  But that’s a blog for another day)  Now that I knew what divorce was, I got a little nervous.  I asked her this, “Will you and daddy get divorced?”  How awesome is it that my mother was so confident in her God-centered relationship with my father to answer this way: “No, Denise, I can promise you that we will never get divorced.”  My parents never made promises that they weren't sure they could keep.  Wow.

My parents never fought in front of my brother and me until we were old enough to not get scared by it.  I knew they disagreed about things but they always had their “discussions” not in front of us.  This presented a united front.  We knew they disagreed but we always knew that they were together.  Always.

Last week in my dad’s sermon he used the example of their relationship to make a point.  He was talking about how Christian’s can often mistreat each other, therefore mistreating the bride of Christ.  He said, “If you want to make me mad, all you have to do is mistreat my wife.”  He has used that example multiple times.  Each time, my mom gets a little smile on her face.  It’s the sweetest thing.

I could go on and on but I gotta save some for the 43rd anniversary.

This could explain a lot

I’ve decided to resurrect an old idea for a blog.  It’s the 25 Random Things blog.  I liked doing it and maybe, just maybe, you’ll like reading it.  So here it is!!!  25 Random Things about Denise!

1. In high school my “In 20 years” said that in 20 years I would be the CEO of Dr Pepper.

2. I have really, really short toes.  I think they are adorable but my brother makes fun of them, loudly so that others find them humorous too.

3. I don’t like beaches. Well, really, I don’t like wet sand on me. Dry sand is ok.

4. I don’t like being dirty, which would explain why I don’t like beaches.

5. I want to be able to draw and sometimes I think I can.  Then I actually try and that idea is shot down.

6. I want to be a professional singer.

7. I wish I had put more effort into school.  High school, College and Grad School.  I feel like I’ve missed out on a lot of knowledge because I just wanted to breeze by.

8. I have a personal rule of not shaking hands with anyone wearing a rubber glove.

9. I have an unhealthy crush on Sean Connery.

10. I want to go skydiving.

11. I love cheese and gravy.  I believe that every food dish, no matter how bad, can be improved with cheese or gravy.  If there was a cheesy gravy, we could rule the world.

12. Believe it or not, I am a good cook.  I even won a Chili Cook-Off.

13. I like to blog.  I haven’t done so in quite some time because I like to think about it for a while.  I actually have one ruminating.  Actually, now that I think more about it, I have about three rumbling around.

14. I collect Cabbage Patch Kids. Haven’t gotten one in a while though.

15. I had lice, like, 7 times when I was in the fifth grade.  My best friend Sheena had it and kept giving it to me.  You see, when her mom would wash her hair with the special shampoo, she wouldn’t wash her sheets and pillowcases so she never really got rid of it.  My mother, however, went through my long, thick, curly hair with that stupid tiny comb and washed everything in the house that my head may have touched.  After a while she got kinda sick of it and said that I couldn’t be friends with Sheena until her mom got rid of her lice for real.

16. I didn’t think Madagascar was a good enough movie to warrant a sequel much less a third AND a Christmas special.

17. I hate to admit it but I kinda like Labyrinth.

18. I want to be a writer.

19. I wonder where the heck did Planter’s Cheez Balls go.  I know that there are other kinds out there but Planter’s had the best.

20. I used to throw up a lot as a kid.  It was because of my migraines.  I actually wanted to throw up because afterwards I felt better and the headache went away long enough for me to fall asleep.  Because of that I became very aware of the stages of throwing up.  Now, when I throw up little blood capillaries burst all over my face, including on my eyelids.  It’s very strange looking.

21. Daisies are my favorite flower.  I believe some of that to be attributed to the part in You’ve Got Mail when Tom Hanks brings Meg Ryan flowers when she’s sick.

22. I have the best sister-in-law ever.  You may think that your sister-in-law is the best, but mine really is.  I don’t care what you say.

23. I wish I lived on a cruise ship.  Not as an employee.

24. I am willing to go anywhere and do anything as long as I know that God wants me there. How will I know if I should go somewhere, if my husband wants to go there too.

25. I’m amazed by foreigners who are able to do a completely flawless American accent, like Hugh Laurie and the two lead characters on Fringe.

What is my density, I mean destiny?

Written on 3/31/2012 whilst at a women’s conference in Plano, TX

All these speakers kept talking about a calling and who feels stuck.  They are talking about me.  I have a calling but I’m stuck.  I see people all around me fulfilling their destiny but I don’t know what mine is.

I’ll admit, I wasn’t too excited about this weekend.  You know, another women’s conference where I’ve heard it all before.  However, from the first speaker, my heart became soft.  She said, “There might be a dream that you have to go back to.”  I’ve had so many dreams throughout my life but only one of them has been fulfilled: a husband who loves Jesus more than he loves me.  So what other dream am I supposed to return to?  A teacher? A singer? An actress? A missionary? A speaker?  I know the ballerina ship sailed when my love affair with Little Debbie Snacks started.

I’m in a bit of turmoil.  One thing I know is that I need to go back to the place where I was certain God was working.  I don’t know how God is going to get me where He wants me but I’m becoming willing to do and go whatever and wherever He wants me to.

However, I must steal a sentiment from my brother:  God, whatever You want me to do, please, please tell my husband.

Jesus is better.