Lillington Photo Correction

Ok, so the picture in People magazine was probably taken at Ft. Bragg, but the girl is from Lillington. That's still cool- and random for a national magazine.

Christmas and a Car

Christmas was really good. We had a small gathering and for the first time my brother wasn't here, since he was with his fiance's family in Tennessee. However, my family and I had a good time. We opened presents in the morning, had dinner in late afternoon, and after the others left, my parents and I watched some Christmas movies on TV. Late that night we sang Happy Birthday and had cake for my mom. Get this: My mom was born on Christmas and her maiden name is Gabriel. Fun, eh?

And of course there was the Christmas Eve service at my church. For a long time the Christmas Eve service has been one of my favorite parts of Christmas.

Gifts this year were light; nobody spend enormous amounts of money on anyone. And you know what? I like it that way. Buying expensive presents seems like a necessity until you just don't do it.

I am maturing in my understanding of Christmas. I have long since known it's about Jesus Christ's birth, but I've almost always tried to also buy the best gifts I could. Not doing that this year did make a difference in how I saw Christmas, and you know what? It's liberating. I feel that God is thinking, "I know that! I've known that forever! I am all about liberation! If you guys would stop being so materialistic, you'd experience more of that freedom!"

I know this may seem somewhat hypocritical since I just got done talking about simplicity, but my last car died and got junked and I had no transportation. I got a really great deal and bought a car. Nothing fancy, a basic 4-door (manual locks and windows even!) that will get me around. So, yea...my car troubles are over- except for those pesky payments! I now own a silver 2008 Chevy Aveo LS. I am so blessed to be able to have this car- trust me, I know this.

Well, I hope you all had a nice Christmas with family. Feel free to let me know how your Christmas was special.

Lillington in People Magazine

So, here's something that surprised me. While perusing through the Best and Worst of 2007 edition of People magazine, I came across a section of photos sent in by readers around the nation. One of the photos was taken in Lillington, NC! It is the picture of a soldier's wife welcoming her husband home. How great!

Goodbye, Sweet Cavalier

On Sunday morning my car died. Now my quaint little 2000 Chevy Cavalier has had a few problems in the past, but my family has found Chevys to be quite reliable. Still, my little four-door did not fair as well as others.

We actually got the car in late 1999 and it was a pretty big deal because the year 2000 was a pretty big deal. So having a 2000 in 1999 was pretty nifty.

But my first car did not live as long as most of our other cars. $100 and free towing is all my family gets for the car.

I am trying to see some positives. For instance, there was hardly any gas in the car when it died. I'm glad I hadn't filled it up that morning. And I will also be able to save on gas money.

True, it is kind of like being 14 again. I had to work at 8:30 but my dad had to work at 8:00 this morning, so I had to leave early. I love to drive and especially love driving back roads, but my trips to Cary must cease for the most part. Maybe, just maybe, I could borrow one of my parents' cars once or twice a month just to get to Barnes and Noble!

But for now I will spend more quality time with my parents as they drive me around and I am at home more evenings. I am determined to make the best of this.

I asked God to make my car fixable. Then I asked him to take care of my traveling needs. Then I asked him to make my car fixable. I even asked him to make my car fixable for under $100! He already knows my desires, so I just prayed them. So, maybe my car won't get fixed, but I'm pretty sure He'll meet my traveling needs.

May my parents and I not go crazy.

This Day in History

Today is my third college graduation anniversary. On December 18, 2004 I walked across the newly renovated D.Rich stage and got a piece of paper telling me where to pick up my diploma. What did I do that night? Why, what any college graduate would do: I went to see the Raleigh Ringers, a professional hand bell choir, with friends. (Might I add that I had a wonderful meal with my family earlier that afternoon.)

Two years ago today a friend and I went to Barnes and Noble to see the juggling Rabbi. He was amazing and told Hanukkah stories and did different juggling tricks.

And so, with such random events two years in a row, I declared December 18 'Random Day.' Except I didn't do anything random last year.....and I don't plan to do anything random today.

But my nickname is Random, so maybe that's enough.

Raindrops Keep Falling On........The Bell Peppers

So, I realize from my last post that I could sound like a fundamentalist. I'm sure if you go a few posts back to my views on the North Carolina Baptist State Convention and their policy regarding homosexuals, you'll see that I'm actually a moderate. Oh yea, then there's the fact that I'm a woman going into ministry. It's just that, we can have different views than someone in regards to theology or other matters and still say something when there's hypocrisy against that person.

Moving on, I went to one of the Ft. Bragg Commissaries with my mom the other day for some good family grocery shopping. I must say, the produce section was the highlight of the trip. As mom looked for appropriate vegetables I heard thunder. "What's that?" I asked mom. She told me it was going to rain...on the produce.

Sure enough, I soon discovered the misting action of the sprayers above the fruits and veggies. Every few minutes the sound of thunder (and I think lightning cracking) sounded from the section to be sprayed, and was audible throughout the entire produce section.

Ah, sweet tax dollars at work. But to be honest, there's far worse things they could spend tax money on than produce alarms.

Pretending to Be Gay?

I've never been a "fan" of Jerry Falwell, but I thought I would give this topic some attention.

Years ago Falwell created quite a stir when he said one of the Teletubbies, a character on a children's television show, was gay. Critics laughed and basically said it's stupid to suggest such a thing, for a fictional character can not be gay.

Fast forward a few years and you get J.K. Rowling, author of the popular "Harry Potter" series, saying her character Dumbledore is gay. People responded with surprise, claiming things such as, "I didn't expect him to be gay!"

Seriously?

I don't care if she created the character. The argument was that a fictional character can't be gay. So why did the world throw stones at Falwell and accept Rowling for doing the same thing?

About That Strike

If you don't watch TV, I'm not impressed.

While some people honestly don' t desire to watch TV, other people will tell you with an air of pride that they don't have time for it. It's as if being too busy to watch TV is a prerequisite for being important.

Almost everybody knows about the recent Writer's Guild strike. Maybe you've even seen a picture of Eva Longoria serving the writers pizza (though I'd rather see a celebrity serving food to the hungry). As a result, many people have come out and said that they are glad for the strike because now people will do better things with their time.

Maybe it's just my broadcasting background, but I feel that just because I carve out an hour and a half a week to watch my two favorite television shows doesn't mean I'm wasting my time. And what about when I watch even more TV a week than that? Maybe I actually learn something from my HGTV real estate shows and specials on The History Channel.

Maybe I make time to watch TV because it's something I honestly enjoy. If I'm found shallow for watching a few programs, then oh well. Sure some people really do waste their time by watching numerous hours of television a day, but that doesn't mean that everyone who watches TV is giving in to laziness and gluttony. And maybe there is a lot of trash on TV, but that doesn't mean everyone who catches a show is watching that stuff. Besides, the strike isn't going to end the television viewing of over-zealous TV addicts. They're still going to catch the latest re-run or reality show.

So if you're looking to tell someone that you don't care about the writer's strike because you don't have time to watch TV, please don't brag to me.

Harnett County Thanksgiving

I never thought it could happen to me, and then it did: Thanksgiving in Erwin. Somewhere along the way of the last few years my relatives chose to leave the suburbs of D.C. for the pastures of Harnett County. Now my parents live in Lillington, my grandma in Angier, and my uncle's family in Erwin.

Life doesn't always make sense.

Last Thursday afternoon we pulled into the driveway of a quaint house on a quiet street. Could it be? Could Erwin actually look picturesque?

After dinner a few of us gathered on the front porch, while the rest watched football inside. We talked about my brother's upcoming wedding, the benefits of a simple life, and the way my Grandma can drive us crazy, even though we still love her.

As I gently swayed in my rocking chair, I thought about celebrities gathering around large banquet tables in extravagant houses. I felt like they were missing something.

Mom was right, I wouldn't be happy living in that neighborhood either. It was nice for a day, but the city beckons me come May. But I started to realize that Harnett County is more than tractors tying up traffic and redneck hunters shooting at fake deer. There are some interesting people here, and if I'm smart, I'll learn from them before my days in Harnett County are limited to the short visits home for more of these country holidays.

Christian Circles

I have always been critical of politics in the church. Maybe that's why I laughed when I saw the book, Roberts Rules of Orders for Dummies. There is a part of me that detests the rigid formality that often results in anger and splits. Yet, as I have been studying the Southern Baptist Convention (SBC) and the Baptist State Convention of North Carolina (BSCNC) in divinity school, I cannot help but be involved in church politics.

This weekend I took my youth to Fort Caswell, the BSCNC's retreat center at the beach, for a youth weekend. My cynicism came along too.

After all the judgement, crookedness, and political games in Southern Baptist Life, I found it hard to believe that BSCNC leaders were telling our youth to minister to and love those considered the lowest of the low by the world. It seems Convention leaders can't even love fellow Christians like that.

We preach one thing, and practice another when it comes to political strategies. The BSCNC is alientating itself from groups and schools because of its desire to take over. The BSCNC kicks churches out of its fellowship if there are two or more persons that report that a BSCNC-member church has homosexual members.

Focusing on the latter point, I believe homosexuality is a sin. I also believe stealing people's money is a sin, but Jesus welcomed a tax collector into his group of disciples anyway. This group was comprised of the twelve men Jesus was closest to during his three years of ministry leading up to his death and resurrection. The BSCNC can't even let a homosexual be a member of a church, but Jesus called a tax collector to be one of his closest friends. Both are what many have termed, "lifestyle sins."

Ok, I know, Jesus didn't call Matthew to continue in his dishonesty. My point is, he called him to be a disciple, a "member" of his closest group, while Matthew was still a tax collector. As Matthew was a part of this group, he learned how to be more like Jesus.

So why can't we follow the example of Jesus? Why can't homosexual Christians join the church as they are and become more like Jesus, just as the rest of us are striving to do? Some claim that homosexuality isn't a sin, but I believe it is, even if those struggling with that sin don't name it as such. Even so, I believe a homosexual can be a Christian because I believe we still struggle with sin after giving our lives to Christ. So why regulate what sins church members may and may not struggle with? Jesus clearly did not give us that example.

Romans 5:8 says, "But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." (NIV) Christ died for us while we were still sinners, so why can't we accept Christians into our church who are still struggling with sin? Aren't all of us struggling with sin anyway?

But then I discovered my own hypocrisy. In all my finger pointing at the convention, I am failing to heed the second greatest commandment: love others as I love myself. No, I don't agree with all the theology and tactics of the SBC and BSCNC, but to view them as enemies is clearly not biblical either. There are names that come to mind of people whom I get angry with. These very people are still my brothers in Christ. All the theological viewpoints in the world couldn't change that fact.

I think there are still some great members of the Convention and I think there are great leaders at Caswell. If my kids are growing in Christ as a result of the work of the BSCNC, I'd be an idiot to keep them from it.

So my question now is, what are those of us who are moderate Baptists doing to love our fundamentalist brothers and sisters? Because if all we do is point fingers and judge them, we're kicking Christians out of our circles too.

The Crab Feast

I have realized the Maryland equivalent of a pig pickin': the crab feast.

Behold the little wooden mallets we use to crack open the crab shell. After a successful entry, we begin to pick apart the body for meat, being sure to avoid the parts that will make us sick. We eagerly eat the tiny pieces of meat that are the rewards of our work.

We dissect our food to eat it. This is not much better than the southern-style pig pickin' (note: I have learned it is not a "pig picking").

I have composed a haiku:

Small, wooden mallet,
Help me dissect this large crab.
Is the work worth it?

Krasinski, is it?

In my writing class we have been assigned to write our obituaries. I figured it would be as if we died now and we would have to sum up our real lives.

But no.

We can make up our lives and die when we're old. We could say we'd achieved all our goals.

That led me to a fantastic conclusion: I can pick my spouse!

In my obituary I will die as Rebecca Lee Krasinski, wife of actor John Krasinski, who plays Jim on "The Office."

I called my friend Mark to tell him this exciting news. He thought that last name sounded like the Unabomber.

That's no good.

So he looked it up. He said, "John's last name is Krasisnki, the Unabomber's last name is Kaczynski." Sound alike, huh?

I just found it hilarious that we had to differentiate between my "husband" and the Unabomber.

I Understand Some Things....

....but some things I don't.

For instance, I don't understand why 75% of the time I drink coffee, it slips out of the cup and onto my shirt. I don't understand why, in an age of increased safety measures such as bicycle helmets and car seats until a child is almost fully grown, there is a general acceptance of tennis shoes with wheels on them. I don't understand why I didn't stick to a simple topic, like my classmates, who chose things such as dress codes and local school issues, for my Ministry of Writing opinon paper, but instead thought it was a good idea to tackle government-funded HMOs.

But I do understand that I know some pretty cool people.

In the past month I have been up to Altoona, PA twice. While the circumstances weren't ideal, I did get a chance to meet some very cool family members (or re-meet since I apparently met most of them before my ability to form memories became a regular facet in my brain).

What is my dad's cousin's relationship to me? Is she my second cousin? Is she my great cousin? Is she my cousin twice removed with a tulip garden? Well, anyway, her name is Sharon, and regardless of what exact relation she is to me, she is rather spectacular.

I have heard about her for years, but I had never met her. I finally did, and she's hilarious! She also understands my passion for urban ministry and took me on a short walk around the block of her church's neighborhood during the dinner after my grandma's funeral. She could have been doing a million things, but she took time out to do that for me. She really took care of my grandma and has helped my family out in so many ways. Maybe one day I'll just show up on her doorstep for a visit.

Then there's another of my dad's cousins, Tim, and his wife Jenny. They do mission work in the Dominican Republic and they live just a couple of hours outside of Chicago! I can hardly beleive these amazing people were just a train ride away all last semester and I didn't even know it!

I re-met a lot of people who loved my grandma. Usually they would say, "You must be Bill's kids" because I was standing by my brother and he "looks just like [my] dad!" One lady tried to explain her relation to me by saying how she was related to someone else, but I didn't know who that someone else was, so I just smiled and received a hug.

So many people told me that they read my stories and poems. I was very suprised at this and tried to think about what they possibly could have read, because I want to read it too! Apparently my grandma had a plethora of my writing endeavors from over the years and gladly shared them.

When Sharon spoke at the funeral, she told all the grandchildren how proud Grandma had been of us. I really didn't know Grandma was that proud of us, but now I do. Sharon might have thought she was reminding us of something we already knew, but I discovered in a bright, new light more of how pround of all of us Grandma really was.

I'm really rather blessed to have such a great family. My dad has about a bazillion cousins (Grandma had 9 others brothers and sisters who had kids) and I couldn't list them all if I tried. Yet, it was rather neat to re-meet all these people who remembered me, even if I felt like I was seeing them for the first time. Plus I got to meet a good childhood friend of my dad's who helped my father coerce their children's Sunday School class into continually electing them as President and Vice-President, and letting any challengers "know how it was" in that class.

I got to see a family tree from Grandma's side of the family. Her parents were both born in 1882, so I was born 100 years- to the year- after my great-grandparents. You know what else? My grandma once told me her grandfather had been in the ministry. So I am going into the same vocation as my great, great grandpa.

I have long since been interested in my family history, now I really want to explore it. Maybe one of my ancestors buried a trunk with an obsene amount of money, even by today's standards, as a type of fund for their, great, great, great, great grandaughter to pay off her college loans. Yea, and maybe I'm related to the queen of England.

Details Please

I don't think of myself as poor, but when I can't afford the advertised price of a chicken biscuit combo at Bojangles, it sure seems that way.

The Bojangles in Lillington, NC usually lists prices for special meals on it's marquee sign. Right now a chicken fillet combo is $429. Last week I saw a meal deal that was $1599.

I don't know about you, but I can't afford that.

Or maybe they just can't afford decimals.

I've Heard Rules About No Shoes and No Shirt.....But No Pants?

I planned on blogging about other things, but I know a good blog story when I see one.

I gave my house key to a friend to watch the dogs while my family was away. I got the key back, but failed to put it on my keyring. I got home tonight about midnight. The front door was locked.

No problem. This had happened before. I went around to the side and dropped my things, including my laptop (which I tried super hard to lower to the ground as far as could be), over the fence. Then I started to climb.

I was wearing gaucho pants. For many who have seen "Never Been Kissed," you probably know that gaucho pants are very wide-legged pants that are almost like a skirt. Their particular fabric makes them very flowy.

Gaucho pants do not make good climbing pants. I got one leg over the fence and had a hard time getting the rest of the way over. But I had done this before. So I tried a new tactic. I kicked off my flip flops so my feet could more easily fit into the holes on the chainlink fence.

That was a bad idea. While my feet fit in more easily, I could not get a good grip. The fence would get me between the toes and it just plain hurt doing it that way. I decided to abandon my fence climb, but upon getting down I realized my gaucho pants were stuck in about two or three places.

So there I was, my body bent over the top of the fence. I was stuck. I pulled and maneuvered my pants off the chain link structure and got down. But I was still outside the fence. I got an idea. If I took my pants off they couldn't get stuck. Now, as a 10-year-old I was the only one I know of in my gym class who refused to do summersaults for fear of breaking my neck. Trust me, climbing this fence brought similar concerns. Yes, I pray when I climb fences, which is not often. All that to say, I could just imagine my family finding me the next morning in my underwear, wondering how on earth it all happened.

But still, I wanted to get inside. I went to the front door and rang the doorbell many times. No answer. Calling on my cellphone was a good idea. Too bad I locked it in my car and had dropped my keys over the fence with my things. We have no neighbor on one side of our house, so I did what any Frederick might do. I went around the house and took off my pants.

In the light of the moon I attempted to climb the fence in my underwear. I knew better than to drop my pants on the other side of the fence, so I held onto them with a firm bite. It didn't work. I had one flip flop that I had dropped outside the fence, but the climb hurt my other bare foot so much. So I put my pants back on and rang the doorbell more. No answer. I began to think my parents were trying to teach me a lesson.

Fine, I would try again. I had bent the fence on my first climbing attempt of the night(Heh...heh....dad, think of it as a memory maker), but I wanted to get in and if they weren't gonna answer the door I needed to find a way.

I went back to the side of the house and took my pants off again. By the light of the moon I again attempted to climb the fence in my underwear. I tried putting the flip flop on the wrong foot, because that was the one that took the most force when I tried to get the rest of my body over the fence. I couldn't do it, my bare foot hurt too bad.

I put my pants back on and weighed my options. I could put the flip flop on my right foot, get my leg over and transfer the shoe to my left. Or I could ring the doorbell. I opted for the latter. But as I was walking back to the front door I decided I should just knock on the bathroom window. I did, it set the dogs off, and got my mom to the front door.

"Sorry." I told my mom and slipped inside.

And that, my friends, is the story of the first time I took my pants off and tried to climb a fence.

Watch Out For That Grill

"Dad, I can't do it."

"Yes you can. Use your mirrors."

When learning to drive, my dad taught me to back up the car by backing up into camping spaces. I usually had to try multiple times to get in straight and looking back, I'm pretty sure no one else's dad took his child to the woods to learn to drive.

As I whipped out of my driveway in reverse the other day, I thought that maybe, just maybe dad's campground driver's ed was useful.

Oh the simplicity of back roads, a state park, and dad in the passenger's seat.

Hand in the Toy Machine and Other News of the Weird

You know those game machines that have the claw and you have to try and grab a stuffed animal after putting in your quarters? I know those very well. I got stuck in one.

It was at a mom and pop ice cream shop around the time I was 5. I wasn't going to steal, I was just curious if I could touch a toy, were I to shove my arm up through the little trap door.

Problem was, my arm didn't come back out. It wasn't until rescue personel came to help that I was free from that rather odd encounter.

Fast forward a bit. I went on an overnight field trip with my fifth grade class. I woke up with a blurry spot in my eye. Twas a tick, right where you might put some eyeliner. I still think I am missing an eyelash from where they had to lay me on the table and pull it off me.

Fast forward a little more. My brother was on a community baseball team and I loved to read. "Heads up!" They called and everyone cleared the bench. My nose in a book, I just slid over a couple feet. The ball landed right on my head.

At the emergency room the doctor asked me to count backwards from 100 to 1 by 7's. I got to 93 and was stumped.

If you want to fast forward even farther you can check out my very first blog site at http://rebeccalee782.livejournal.com/ and read about why the whole cast of Whinnie the Pooh has a mental condition or how I saw what could easily be explained as a possible pigeon murder. There are also entries about my travels around the country, but for a lot of them you have to go pretty far back.

I refuse to be dull.

Celebrate Truth

I have a memory. I was 10 and about to graduate from the 5th grade. Sitting at the dinner table I asked my dad if I could have a new dress for graduation. He answered yes, as if it was one of the most appropriate things I could have and I was thrilled to go pick out a dress at the store.

Shortly thereafter I found out my grandma would be making my dress. Let's just say I was a little disappointed. There were so many frilly dresses with lace and ribbons and I really wanted one of those.

Then the dress my grandma made arrived.

I looked at it. It was the most beautiful dress I had ever seen. It was a light purple, and to this day I am enamoured by purple. I would lay in bed at night and look at that dress in my closest and think about how pretty it was and how I couldn't wait to wear it.

I wore it to my graduation and also wore it to Chuck-E-Cheese because I insisted I wanted to eat there. I remember wanting more dresses just like it and my mom tried to tell me that as I got older dress styles would change.

I was reminded of that story tonight. I'm in Altoona, PA right now, the home of my father's side of the family. Grandma isn't doing so well and tonight we held her hands and touched her face and I realized something.

She is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen.

I didn't pick up on it for so long. She was just grandma all my life. I loved her, she loved me. Yet, like that dress, I didn't quite expect the beauty that was there. I saw it tonight.

As I watched her in her bed, happy to see us, somewhat coherent as to who we were, I once again realized that apart from Christ there is no point. Seeing a loved one go through the dying process intensified my desire for God because I know where she will be soon. She is here now, but not for long.

Soon she will be with all her brothers and sisters in Christ who went on before her. But most of all, she will be with her Creator.

You know something she said recently? "I have nothing to complain about because Christ suffered so much more."

What faith.

My family and I will join her too. We will see our Creator. We will have no more fear. We will laugh and dance.

Celebrate truth.

Scrabble

A few of my friends have taken to playing Scrabble on Facebook and anytime I think of Scrabble, I think of Waco, TX.

Random, eh? Not so much. At Mission Waco's homeless shelter, a group would often be playing scrabble before heading off to bed.

One memory in particular stands out. Roy was incredibly smart and usually had amazing words to make with his letters. I say "usually" because one time he came up with a word that can still make me laugh to this day.

Glover. Many insisted that wasn't a word. His response? "Glover. One who gloves." I think he was going for the baseball player catching a ground ball image.

We kept a dictionary around and I can't remember if they looked it up, but I'm pretty sure the word didn't count.

Hilarious.

What Can I Say? It's a Passion

So I took some me time tonight. In the fullest semester I think I've ever had, I have not had time (or gas money) to make the trip I love- Barnes and Noble.

Reading and I have quite the relationship. Mom started it by making frog croaks during "Berenstain Bears in the Dark" and it continued through summer reading programs and books mom bought me.

Reading and I hit a rough patch in high school, but by college I had discovered Lawana Blackwell and was back in the game. When I took that semester off from undergrad and waited weeks till I started a job, books were a constant companion.

Sometimes I think God speaks to me through what I read; even fiction. I can see the spines of books and they remind of me of another time in life when I read them. I can get emotional over books. I can also hate them (i.e. certain textbooks).

But tonight I did something that I've needed. I got in the car and went somewhere by myself and ordered the largest white mocha frappachino on the menu and settled into an arm chair. I was there for hours.

God did speak to me tonight and I feel refreshed, more certain of who I am in Him.

Maybe my passion for words is why Psalms is one of my favorite books in the Bible. The way it captures just about every human emotion is fascinating.

Yea, reading isn't just a pastime. It's a passion.

This Too Shall Pass

I am a jealous person. I know it's wrong, but I can't seem to help it. I don't get jealous over clothes or cars or most material possessions. I get jealous over relationships and spirituality. Maybe envious is a better word, or maybe its the same thing.

In many ways I feel like a life-long cheerleader. Not the kind that puts her hair in a pony tail and dons a skirt for a basketball game, but the every day cheerleader who is here to encourage everyone else.

Encouragement is not bad; it's one of my spiritual gifts. But sometimes I get tired of cheering. I want things to happen to me and for me and I get pretty bogged down when they don't. Being happy for others is good, very good. But sometimes it exhausts me.

Sometimes people have close relationships with people I want to be close to. Sometimes people seem to be so spiritually mature and I want that same maturity in Christ. Truth is, for so long I ran from questions because they only seemed to produce fear. I now find myself being able to question, and feel light years behind other people.

I am a pretty outgoing person, but often there seems to be a disconnect between people and me. It's as if there is so much going on inside of me that I feel socially awkward. I'm sorting through some confusion.

This too shall pass.

A Little Perspective

I am 25; I will be 25 when I graduate.

Graduation from Divinity school will come 8 years after I started at Campbell.

A little math: Very close to 1/3 of my life I have been a student at Campbell.

Wow.

Zeal or Pride?

I got this quote from a minister at Breakthrough Urban Ministries in Chicago. He got it from Breakthrough's executive director. This quote is.....wow. I can't speak for the calling to other areas of ministry, but for the urban minister there is incredible truth here.

It also reminds me of one of my favorite verses. "Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord." ~Romans 12:11

How important it is to know the difference between pride and Christ-honoring zeal. How important it is to draw near to the Savior to recognize the difference.

"Those of us who do work explicitly defined as Christian..live in an
especially hazardous environment, for the very nature of the work is a constant
temptation to sin. The sin is, to put an old word on it, pride. But it is often
nearly impossible to identify as pride, especially in its early stages. It looks
and feels like energetic commitment, sacrificial zeal, selfish
devotion.

But something almost always goes wrong. In our zeal to proclaim the Savior
and enact his commands, we lose touch with our own basis and daily need for the
savior. We feel so good, so grateful, so saved. And these people around us
are in such need. We throw ourselves recklessly into the fray. Along
the way most of us end up so identifying our work with Christ's work that Christ
himself recedes into the shadows and our work is spotlighted at center
stage. Because the work is so compelling, so engaging - so right - we
work with what feels like divine energy. One day we find ourselves (or
others find us) worked into the ground. The work may be wonderful, but we
ourselves turn out to be not so wonderful, becoming cranky, exhausted, pushy, and
patronizing in the process.

The alternative to acting like gods who have no need of God is to become
contemplative ministers. If we do not develop a contemplative life
adequate to our vocation, the very work we do and our very best intention,
insidiously pride-fueled as they inevitable become, destroy us and with whom and
for whom we work.

Contemplation comprises the huge realities of worship and prayer
without which we become performance-driven and program-obsessed ministers.
A contemplative life is not an alternative to the active life, but its root and
foundation. True contemplatives are a standing refutation of all who
mislabel spirituality as escapism. If ministers do not practice the
contemplative life, how will people know the truth of it and have access to its
energy? The contemplative life generatesand releases and enormous
amount of energy into the world-the enlivening energy of God's grace rather than
the enervating frenzy of our pride."

-Eugene Peterson Under the Unpredictable Plant

Broken Heart?

The summer I turned 14 I had quite the crush on this guy who came down every summer to visit his grandparents down the street. Maybe I thought I had a big secret, but I'm pretty sure my whole family knew.

He had been visiting for about 2 weeks each summer for quite a few years. The routine was generally the same. My brother David and I would watch Little House on the Prairie and then we would meet up with Justin and another neighbor for hours of playing war outside, using various backyards for battleground. As the years past I stopped seeing so much of a fun kid that came around and I inevitably developed the young teenage crush.

As the years went on my brother was very attuned to what was going on and made it a point to mention to my parents and me when he noticed our friend look at me a certain way or do anything to indicate someone might like his little sister.

At my 14th birthday party he came, present in hand. When I opened up a silver-colored necklace my heart jumped off rhythm for just a second. I couldn't believe it! He had gotten me a present! He later informed me his grandma made him bring a present to my birthday party, which now makes me laugh.

When I blew out the candles on my cake I wished that I could kiss him. Now do believe me, that was a huge growing up step in my young life. While I may have been more mature than others my age in some areas of life, I was quite behind when it came to boys, and makeup, and "typical teenage things." Wanting to hold onto my "secret," when my best friend asked me what I wished for I said, "To read every book in the world." That wasn't too far from a wish I probably would have made. She said I should have wished for something more practical.

Maybe it was that summer or maybe it was another, but Justin had just left. I rode my bike around and around the cul-de-sac that made up so much of my childhood and I felt sad. I wondered to myself, "Is this what it feels like to have a broken heart?"

A couple hours later I was probably off doing something else, the thoughts from before barely even registering in my mind.

No, I never kissed the boy and I'm not sure where he is now. Last I heard he was in Annapolis and had a girlfriend, but that was many years ago. His grandma passed away a few years after that and eventually someone else moved into that house. Not too long after that my family moved to North Carolina.

As I look at the heartbreaks that came in later years, I see how gracious God was to let me be introduced to that kind of pain slowly. I also see how faithful God has been in carrying me past all of that pain.

Heartbreaks come now in different ways, but sometimes I just like to remember. Remember a place and time when a crush was the world and 3008 Sherwood Rd was the center of the universe.

Sometimes I think about those growing points in my life and I simply smile.

On the Lifehouse Video

I am not sure how to put text and a video together without messing it up. I'm not exactly tech savvy. But I wanted to express this.

God is working in me in mighty and powerful ways. Listen to the words. Many of the lyrics of this song describe what I feel. God is speaking. This is worship.

Lifehouse - Breathing (Music Video)

Give Up the Fight?

I'm a Republican; largely due to tradition and stuborness. It was a group of Republicans in a Waldorf Borders that stirred up my interest in politics, I decided long ago that I identified more closely with the Republican Party, and I refuse to fall into the trap of thinking that only Christians who are democrats are truly carrying out Christ's command to care for the poor.

So, I had this conversation with a good friend last night. He talked about how he believes abortion is wrong, as do I. But he went further. He talked about how right-wing churches preach abortion is wrong and that there are other options, such as adoption. The problem, he says, is that those churches do nothing to make the other options more available. He can't think of any mid to upper-class conservative white people adopting babies from the ghetto, or babies with AIDS, or babies with birth defects.

It's true. So many Christians champion around teens who don't have abortions, but when they see a teen carrying a baby at the mall they just shake their heads in disgust. Shouldn't they be happy that they got what they wanted?? The girl didn't have an abortion!

There's a total disconnect. No one wants to help raise the child; babysitting for free, helping buy diapers, teaching women how to be better mothers. It's as if once the abortion doesn't happen, the baby is totally the girl's "problem." Don't get me wrong, I believe abortion is a sin, but what are we as churches doing to provide other options?

This post was originally going to be about health care and how I wonder if government-funded care is the best the poor of this nation can ever hope for. I think government-funded health care is some of the worst health care anywhere (those of you having experience with military doctors and hospitals probably understand). So the "Give Up the Fight?" headline was about my questioning whether I should forget thinking there is better care. I keep saying bad health care is better than no health care, but there has to be something better for the people of this nation. Like abortion, if I can't help provide those other options, why am I preaching against what IS available?

So should I give up the fight and support government-funded health care? Maybe I should.

On Blogging

So, I'm in this Ministry of Writing class and it has produced a precise response within me: the beginnings of humility regarding my own abilities. I say beginnings of humility because I realize the hypocrisy of calling oneself humble. Trust me, that I am not.

For this class we are supposed to start or continue a blog. That was no problem for me, as my faithful friend Rachel introduced me to the blogging sphere years ago. But then there is the question of content.

There is often the pressure to post these incredibly deep and insightful posts, especially now that my professor will be taking a look. However, nobody is deep and insightful all the time. My blog is not to inspire the world- though were that to happen I'd be pleased. My blog is about communicating with family and friends. I want them to see a more holistic picture of me; the deep, the random, and the light-hearted. So yes, I might blog about what God has been teaching me. Then again, I also might blog about the hilarious headline I read in the nearby smalltown newspaper.

So that's my explanation of my blog. You can take it or leave it, but I hope you take it.

Wow, That's Me!

Wow....this dead on from just a 3 question test!


Your Personality Is

Idealist (NF)You are a passionate, caring, and unique person.You are good at expressing yourself and sharing your ideals.You are the most compassionate of all types and connect with others easily.Your heart tends to rule you. You can't make decisions without considering feelings.You seek out other empathetic people to befriend.Truth and authenticity matters in your friendships.In love, you give everything you have to relationships. You fall in love easily.At work, you crave personal expression and meaning in your career.With others, you communicate well. You can spend all night talking with someone.As far as your looks go, you've likely taken the time to develop your own personal style.On weekends, you like to be with others. Charity work is also a favorite pastime of yours.

Church Directory, Round 2

A few years ago my church published a directory of its members. Was my picture in this publication? No, but my printed contact information in the back was.

I'm kind of funny like that. I felt really awkward about getting my picture by myself, so I just opted out. I was going that route this time around until my pastor asked me point blank if I had made my photo appointment. I tried the standard, "Should I get my picture taken since I'm leaving in May?" graduation excuse, but he assured me I was part of the church family now, so I should be included.

So why the apprehension to put my face on a page? Well, when I look at church directories I always think it's kind of sad to see a bunch of families and then a single person's portrait. I don't mean single, as in not married. I mean single, as in the only person in the picture. It's not a married/single issue, after all.

If my parents went to my church I would have no hesitancy to get our picture made. Though some might argue that a 25-year-old still living in her parental family unit looks odd. So, it's not the fact that I don't have a husband, rather it's the fact that I don't have anyone in the picture with me and I think that looks lonely.

I thought about all that before I even began to think about the process of getting the picture made. After taking photo after photo of families, the photographer will probably have to readjust the zoom to take a picture of just me. I will feel ackward, I'm sure. Not to mention the free 8x10 picture I receive. Trust me, I don't want that.

I just hate looking like I have no one. No cousins, parents, friends, family. I know most people don't even think that when looking at church directories. I know that, as a member of the body of Christ, the church is also my family.

But for some reason, I dislike the idea of a me-only church directory photo.

Um....

Tonight I went to my first ever yoga class. I have to admit, I was a little apprehensive; especially after studying Hinduism in World Religions. But it was Memorial Baptist Church, and figuring they're Biblically sound, I went ahead and went to the class with my mom.

It was taught by a lady I know at church, so that made it more comfortable. Yet, as we sat there and we closed our eyes and she said, "Ummmmmm ", I knew that were Erin there we would have giggled quite heartily.

We tried all kinds of weird moves and positions and there was only one I really couldn't do. I think it was towards the end, as we were laying there in the dark, that I thought that my perception of "ummmmmmm" was more like "um...." as in "um....what on earth is this?"

In fact, at one point, as I stood there, bent at the waist and seeing a hallway at Memorial Baptist upside down, I began to think what a great movie intro that could be. The movie jumps on the screen and everything is upside down. It then flashes to the main character (camera rightside up now), as she bends in an "ummmm" upside down pose and narrates, "I have no idea how I got here." Story continues.

I think my mom and I are gonna go again next week. We'll see how that goes.

Blog Consolidation

So I have been posting to 4 different blogs and frankly it's gotten a little annoying. So what I'm asking is for you to let me know which of the blogs I post on (livejournal, xanga, myspace, blogspot) that you read. I'm kind of hoping to cut out livejournal and xanga, but we'll see.

Unrecognized Apathy

Yesterday I went with my pastor to visit some of our homebound members. I'm currently doing my supervised ministry and decided to make visits part of my ministry experience. I just assumed we would have to drive some distance, but before I knew it he had pulled into a driveway just several yards from Campbell buildings.

I had seen the house so many times, but I had failed to think about who was inside. As we went in we got to talk with an amazing lady. Living in Buies Creek and being much older than myself, I didn't really think much about what she used to do. Then I found out she used to be a surgical nurse and ran an operating room.

We went to the next house where the lady said how she used to walk a mile to go to school in Buies Creek. We complain about walking across campus from a far away parking space. She told me how her husband had built the very house she lived in because their old one, which you could see from her driveway, was too big for them as they got older. She said she was amazed that there was a Chinese resteraunt around. I thought I was amazed...nothing compared to her, I'm sure.

We went to the third house and I met a lady who was super sweet and invited me back at least twice. She talked about Mae (May?) Marshbanks, whom I found out is 90 years old. I think about that. 90. That means she was 65 years old when I was born. My whole life is just a fraction of her time here on earth, her experience, her wisdom.

All these houses sit around the Creek and we students fail to think about the hands that built them. We have an apathy regarding community members other than college students or staff, and we have an apathy regarding the history to be found in the stories of homeowners all around us.

We wouldn't call it apathy because we don't recognize it as such. Most people would say, "That's not apathy, it's just that I never noticed." Is that not apathy of that which is not directly concerning ourselves? If apathy is a failure to care, then isn't our failure to notice that which is outside of our immediate realm on campus constitute a form of apathy?

There are several amazing generations living in Buies Creek, and all we care about is ours. We watch Campbell knock things down and build things up. We see our community change all around us. There are people who are living witnesses to this amazing area that has become a part of each students' life story. We have people around who personally knew the individuals our buildings are named after. We have history, wisdom, and godliness all around us and we don't reach out for it.

Sometimes we're quite blind to the blessings that have been here long before we got here.

My Car

Ok, so I won't be participating in the 39 mile breast cancer walk. It seems my car has taken to being ill and it won't be as easy as I thought to get to and stay in Charlotte. Of course my ol' 2000 Chevy Cavalier hasn't abandoned me completely. I can drive it locally, and even to Raleigh sometimes. I just can't take it on trips that are hours long.....Charlotte....Maryland.....Atlanta (ok Lauren, we can still work with this!). But it's ok because compared to the thought of not having a car at all (which would mean good-bye babysitting job and saving money by living off campus with mom and dad) the local thing isn't so bad. And there's another bright spot- I'll save on gas money!

Waldorf Worldwide

Many of you may be familiar with the tune my little blog post is named after. Good Charlotte, a rather odd looking singing troup, are indeed singing about my hometown in that once-was-a-hit song.

I took a drive around Waldorf today while my mom took a trip to ye olde doctor. First I went by the new Starbucks to get a white mocha frappachino (my favorite starbucks treat) for the drive. I went by my house. They landscaped.

Sure, landscaping is good....but how are you supposed to sled down the front yard hill with a bunch of flowers and a brick walkway? And what's with totally changing the color and siding of the garage!? Was the way we lived not good enough?? Ok, really....I'm ok with it.

On my trip I passed my the house on a hill with a wrap around porch I used to dream of living in. I swung through town and passed My Brother's Place, where local bands (such as MXPX) would play before they got big. I went by the old mall and was pleasantly suprised to see new retail additions such as Build-A-Bear.

I stopped in the Borders where I once got to dance some very basic swing steps with a rather cute instructer. It was also the Borders parking lot where I first locked my keys in the car while it was running. I saw Boston Market and Einstein Bagel Bros. and Family Christian Stores, all of which I worked at.

There were stores I shopped at, neighborhood streets I walked on, and resteraunts I ate in. I think I miss my neighborhood most of all. There were miles and miles of sidewalks and you could literally get lost in the many streets and cul-de-sacs.

I didn't realize how much I missed Waldorf. As mom and I were leaving Borders I thought about how natural it felt, not odd at all to be back.

And of course it's always fun to browse the local section of the bookstore and see books on the nation's capitol. :)

On Poverty

I had an amazing coversation today with the six-year-old I babysit. We were playing Monopoly (yes, with a lot of guidance a six-year-old can play Monopoly!) and she was about out of money, which she commented on.

She then said, "Some people don't have any money." To which I replied, "That's right."

She said, "Is that why you're moving to the city? To give people money?"

I replied, "Well, not to give them money, but to teach them how to get jobs and give them a place to live (as some examples)."

I was very excited to be able to share my ministry with her. Even though she is only six and lives in a family that has two parents in the household and they don't have to worry about money, she still gets it that others have less.

The precious faith and insight of a child.

Country Club Travel

In all my time of driving the golf cart for admissions there was one rule: stay off the road. Well people, today I took it to the streets.

No, I wasn't working in admissions. I was working in Keith Hills, babysitting. The family I babysit for just bought a new golf cart, so the kids and I took it out for a spin. We headed up to the clubhouse for lunch and then took a leisurely drive around the block.

As we were leaving the house I was quite thankful for the golf cart driving test I had to pass that involved cone weaving, backing up, and crossing through a narrow space. I assured my kids that I had taken a golf cart driver's test, especially after my six-year-old asked me if I was old enough to drive a golf cart (you have to be 10. I'm not even sure why she had to ask).

Let me just say, owning (or knowing someone who owns) a golf cart is quite fun.

Same Kind of Different As Me

I know that so many of us are busy with work or with school that will start soon, but I want to tell you about this book I have. I actually checked it out from the library and read it in Chicago, but bought it not too long ago so that I would have a copy for myself and to lend to others.

It's "Same Kind of Different as Me" by Ron Hall and Denver Moore with Lynn Vincent. This book was absolutely amazing and is well worth the read. The line on the front of the book (so you'll have some idea what it's about) is, "A modern-day slave, an international art dealer, and the unlikely woman who bound them together." It's a true story and is such an incredible testimony to Christ's healing of man-made division. I realize I sound like an advertisement, but this book was so powerful to me and I'd love to be able to talk about it and process it with more people.

Please, please...if you have even the slightest notion that you might want to read it, borrow it from me. I would love to discuss it with you.

Love in the Mental Health Aisle

So I was in Barnes and Noble tonight looking at books on OCD. It occurred to me how unfortunate it would be for me to meet my husband in the psychology section. What would we tell our children?

"Yes, well he wandered over into the psychology section and saw me holding an OCD workbook. Amazed that I was investigating such a topic and wanting to show how easily he related to me, he whipped out the line, 'You have OCD? Me too.' And we talked about our mental illness over grande frappachinos."

We could look at each other years later and say, "You had me from anxiety."

Swaying Opinions

So my birthday was great- thanks to everyone who helped make it special!

On a different note, I've been told by more than one person that I have the ability to go just about anywhere and basically thrive. I think God has given me an adventurous spirit. Drop me off in Waco, Chicago, New York with a church I saw on a flier- I'm usually up for the challenge.

I have this amazing ability to adapt to new situations, which is probably why I dislike routine so much. This quality is a good one for ministry as I'm willing to go just about anywhere. Yet, with this ability to adapt I find myself confused over many different philosophies and such.

For instance, when I was in Chicago and taking a social justice class, it all seemed to fit together so perfectly. Then I come back home and talked to a knowledgeable friend who differs on most of those opinions and his argument sounds so valid.

I hear Republican attacks on Democrats and they make so much sense. Then I hear a Democrat viewpoint and I see its merit.

But then again, it is easy to find some research somewhere that will support anything. For instance, I was recently looking at two books published by the same man. One was for Democrats seeking to win arguments with Republicans and the other was for Republicans seeking to win arguments with Democrats. Both books by the same man!

Today my pastor talked about the verses that tell us not to be taken captive by deceptive theologies. While I know that my faith is firmly rooted in God through Jesus Christ, I wonder how many pastors and theologians could convince me of a certain aspect of the faith. For instance, you have those proclaiming the gospel of prosperity and those sounding the horn of living simply. For those of you who know me and the ministry God has given me, you probably know which side of that issue I fall on. But what other issues will I be so easily swayed from side to side?

It is, in fact, my own fault when I'm confused by what I believe because I so often look to myself and to others. I just need to look to Christ. After a week at Caswell with my youth I feel that God is calling me back to a more serious study of his word. Not that I ever stopped reading the Word, but more that for a while I had been reading it out of routine and a sense of obligation. God has been reminding me how fresh and exciting his word is everytime I open my Bible and that it doesn't get old.

So I guess getting more serious about being in the Word and talking with God will clear up some of this swaying of opinion I seem to have. I feel like the Isrealites on the road to the promised land. Why does it sometimes take me so long to get what God has been showing me all along?

Back from Caswell

So yesterday I got back from a week at Fort Caswell with most of the youth from my church. This was a great experience for many reasons. 1. I got to know the kids a whole lot better. They are crazy. I wouldn't have them any other way. 2. I started looking at my relationship with God in a new light and it's really exciting. Caswell was gorgeous. If you ever get a chance to go- do it!

Also, the day before I left I bought a chair. This is not just any chair. This is a big, comfy arm chair for my room that I can sit in and read or use the computer or watch tv or count the fiber content in a box of cereal. I love this chair.

Church today was exceptionally good. I mean, I love my church but I felt an especially exciting sense of fellowship today and the pastor was really into his sermon. I mean, I'm sure he usually is, but today I especially noticed it.

Just thought I'd update some since it's been a while. I am struggling with some thoughts and issues and stuff, so keep me in your prayers in regards to that. Hope everyone is doing great!

Dear Tech Support, It Was My Dog

As many of you know, I have lately had a hard time deleting and backspacing on my laptop since those keys, and one other one of which I am not certain which one it is, are missing. How did this happen? My dog decided to bust into my room and use my laptop as a stage. Sound absurd? Here's a little tidbit of the online chat I had with a sales rep. I have cut out the more tech sounding stuff:


Agent (Nidhi_105620): "Thank You for purchasing a Dell product. I can see from our records that you have contacted us for the first time. Let me assure you that i will provide you the best possible support and help resolve any questions you may have."

Rebecca Frederick: "thank you"

Agent (Nidhi_105620): "You are welcome."

Agent (Nidhi_105620): "Could you elaborate the issue."

Rebecca Frederick: "some of the keys (3 to be exact) came off my keyboard, and there are a few other loose ones nearby the missing ones"

Agent (Nidhi_105620): "May I know how did this happen?"

Rebecca Frederick: "well....this sounds ridiculous, but I work on my laptop while sitting on the floor. I also have dogs. One day one of my dogs pushed open my door and stepped on my laptop and broke it. I realize this sounds absurd."

Agent (Nidhi_105620): "I see."

Rebecca Frederick: "is my keyboard covered in my 1 year warranty?"

Agent (Nidhi_105620): "Rebecca, this kind of damage is not covered under warranty."

Rebecca Frederick: "so for the record, do I sound like a total moron?"

(personal commentary: there was a bit of a pause in response here)

Rebecca Frederick: "ok, you don't have to answer that. is there anyway I can pay to have my laptop serviced?"

Agent (Nidhi_105620): "Do not worry, I will give you sales number and the part to replace the keyboard kit."

Agent (Nidhi_105620): "Are you experiencing any other issue with system other than keyboard?"

Rebecca Frederick: "no"

Rebecca Frederick: "ok thank you"

Agent (Nidhi_105620): "Is there anything else regarding your Dell system that you need help with?"

Rebecca Frederick: "no mam"

Agent (Nidhi_105620): "Are you satisfied with the level of support provided to you on this interaction?"

Rebecca Frederick: "on your part, yes. on the part of it not being covered, not as much."

Agent (Nidhi_105620): "I understand."


Is that not hilarious???

Pick Your Fountain

Those of you who journeyed through undergrad at Campbell at the same time I did probably remember the infamous fountain campaign.

We are now living in the days of football and convocation centers, but not too long ago the ambitions of Campbell were a lot simpler: a fountain in front of the business school.

You might remember the framed picture set up in one of the entrances to the buisness building. You might remember the jokes made whenever tuition went up, parking tickets were given, or any kind of fee was imposed..."they've gotta pay for the fountain." You also might remember that the planning to finishing phase for this fountain literally took years!

Today I took the kids I watch to Campbell and we walked around and looked at the fountains. First, we visited that well-campaigned-for water spout and then the older, smaller, more pathetic looking fountain.

Which one did my kids enjoy more? At which one did they engage in more splashing and running? You got it.....the old one.

So much for fountain campaigns.

How Much Can You Make?

I recently found this link:

http://www.cbsalary.com/?lr=cbmsn&siteid=cbmsnsl

This site is great! I have been comparing salaries in the Raleigh, NC in various positions. Some of the top: pharmacist, anesthesiologist (I have no idea how to spell it, hence the fact that I will never be one) and dentist.

Sadly, a teacher barely beats out a magician in income.

Seriously?

My church just finished up a week of Vacation Bible School. It went really well, however, there was one point of hilarity (ok, many points, but I'll focus on this one).

In the opening worship video shown throughout the week, which was produced by the company we purchased the curriculum from, there was the five-part story of a soccer team.

On the last night they were playing the championship game against a really mean team that would constantly foul them just to be mean.

In one scene a kid from the the other team knocked over (or something to that extent) a kid from the team we had been following all week.

Do you know what the coach of the other team yelled? Showing his excitement at his team's ruthless playing, he yelled, "Keep it gangster!"

I, of course, found this hilarious. I looked around. Why was the rest of the church just watching the video, no expressions of amusement? Surely they heard the middle-aged white man in the Southern Baptist VBS video say "gangster." Then of course there is the fact that he actually fully prounounced "gangster."

Ah well, my friend who works in the nursery heard it and laughed. At least someone else in attendance found the hilarity of it.

Sugar Cookie Mishap

Note: I just finished a paper for my theology class, so spelling is not a priority in this post!

So today I decided to venture into the world of baking with the kids I babysit. I went online, retrieved a recipie for sugar cookies, and set to the task. The older two each had a part in mixing and such.

Now, if any of you know my baking history, you know I am not the best baker. This is especially ironic since my career ambition in the first grade was to be a TV chef (see, my love for broadcasting started early). I did go through one phase of sucessful cooking. I got this Betty Crocker Beginner Basics cookbook. This thing is so helpful, in fact the only way it could be more helpful is to explain how to stir (grip spoon and move hand in a circular motion).

The sugar cookies totally didn't work. They didn't even bake right. I can't figure out what they didn't seem to hardly bake at all. Maybe they were too thick (I gave up on trying to roll the dough as flat as it could go....even with flour I couldn't get the dough not to stick to the rolling pin). Whatever the reason, I threw them out (after I already threw out the dough that was gonna go on the second tray...I know a baking failure when I see it).

So if you have any SUPER EASY recipies, please share them with me! Maybe I can try again with the kids.

Really quick, my five-year-old came up to me, holding a flag with a skull and crossbones in a red bandana on it. She asked me why the Christian flag was so fascinating. I told her that wasn't the Christian flag. "That's a pirate flag." Her brother told her. She shrieked and threw it. Now THAT'S entertainment!

Who Are They Singing To???

Alright, I'm not big on musicals. You could even say I highly dislike them to the point of being just one notch away from hating them. I know not all of them are the same, but the last few musicals I have seen seem to be lacking in character and plot development. And if a play is supposed to be the audience looking in on something, who on earth are the actors singing to??? (Note: I did enjoy Phantom of the Opera. Musicals do have some redeeming qualities.)

Now, I love theater. I was in theater for many years and love seeing new shows. However, I'd rather have a fully developed character over a singing and dancing one. Before you assume I know nothing about singing and dancing let me say I danced for many years and loved it. As far as singing, you're right....I know almost nothing about it.

But still, I just don't like musicals. At least this last one had some humor (after you sat through plan scandelousness! I think I just invented a word!), and Molly Ringwald. That's right! The star of movies such as "Pretty in Pink" and "The Breakfast Club" was singing and dancing on a Raleigh stage.

The song that I tap danced to in the fourth grade was included in the play. The line at the end, "Hey girls, it's me, Charity!" makes a lot more sense in the context of the entire script.

If I had to choose between musicals and no theater, I would choose musicals. But give me an Agatha Christie novel in script format over Suessical any day. I mean, Suessical didn't even include Hop on Pop! What's that about?

I See Three Convertables

Yesterday I took the kids I babysit to the pool. On our way back to the car one of them said, "I see three convertables." I looked around and saw the rather nice cars in their neat parking spaces.

3 months ago convertables were not a part of my life. Things were different, things seemed harsher. I went from the inner city to the Keith Hills Country Club pool. I went from public transit to parking amongst convertables.

I look at my life and see privelage. Not necessarily financial, but in security, relationships, and opportunity.

Maybe I'll stop taking it for granted.

Articles on Homelessness

Check out these articles that were on time.com. The first one is a little lengthy, but both are definitely worth a read. Let me know your opinion.

http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,1625097,00.html

http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,1575776,00.html

Avon Walk for Breast Cancer

So I am going to participate in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer. I first saw an ad for this while riding the L back in Chicago. I was interested, but figured it was something I wouldn't do. Well, as it turns out, it is something I'm gonna do. This October I will be going to Charlotte to walk either 26 or 39 miles over 2 days.

I would love to do 39 miles, but seeing that I've never walked this much at a time before, I am going to consider just doing the 26 miles. I am going to an informational meeting soon in Raleigh.

I'm very excited about this. It's not that I am trying to brag, I am just trying to share this experience. If you want to walk, or donate, or help in any way, let me know!

Check out the website:
http://walk.avonfoundation.org/site/PageServer?pagename=walk_homepage

Turtle in the Road and then a Better Part of the Entry

I was driving to the Divinity School hooding ceremony and I saw a turtle in the road. That is a prime animal rescuing incident. So I pulled over, in a rather stupid place, and felt my car strongly leaning to the right as I was about halfway in a ditch. Upon righting my car and moving up to park in a driveway, perpendicular to how driveways normally run, I realized there was a couple sitting on their porch watching me.

I hopped out in my dress and told them about the turtle, to which they responded that they thought my car was gonna tip over (when I became friends with the ditch) and that they thought I was going to run over the little guy.

I ran up to him on the back road and realized he was a honking huge fella. He went in his shell, I picked him up (standard turtle rescuing procedure), but then he started to go crazy and I dropped him. He scurried off into the grass. That's all.

Now for a more important portion of this entry. I recently read Hebrews 11. A lot of us know it as the Faith Chapter. In fact, I was pretty sure I knew what it said that I didn't necessarily feel like I needed to read it. But then I did read it and was like, whoa! I read it in the NIV and here are some verses that stood out:

"For he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God. ~verse 10

Now this verse talks about Abraham living in tents in the wilderness, but I love how it relates directly to me too. Keep in mind that I am called to urban ministry. I just spent the semester in Chicago and it's pretty awesome. Amazing buildings, tons of people, so many cultures in one geographical landscape. But in my future Heavenly city the architect and builder is God! Whoa! I mean, cities now are great, but when they are designed and built by God!?! That is super amazing. Can you imagine?? Huge cities like Chicago and New York are nothing compared to the city God's got for us!

Other verses:

"All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance. And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earch.....Instead, they were looking for a better country- a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them." ~verses 13 and 16. Guys, we're temporary residents of this earth....there's something so much better! The heroes of the faith said as much and were looking forward to a heavenly country. God was not ashamed to be called their God! That is awesome enough to leave you speechless.

"God had planned something better for us so that only together with us would they be made perfect." ~verse 40. I mean, wow! These amazing men of faith...some of them martyrs....need us, their fellow brothers and sisters in Christ to be made perfect! God doesn't only use the gifts of the local church, he uses the gifts of the church throughout all time! Just makes me marvel.

It's absolutley fascinating to read through account after account of people acting on faith. Some of the stuff sounds pretty crazy, but they did it!

Seriously, read through this chapter and respond with a comment about what verses spoke to you. It's amazing how well we think we know something and then we go back and see so many different ways we can apply it to ourselves. God's word never ceases to be relevant.

Untitled

I'm pretty used to having the city at my fingertips. Nothing to do one afternoon? Hop the L and head down to the Loop. While living in NC isn't bad, it takes some getting used to.

I don't think it's easy to understand the transition that takes place. I'm not crying, I'm not sad, I'm not wishing I was still in Chicago. I have to say, prayer is working because this transition has been fairly easy compared to others.

But sometimes I just want to share a funny story or an insight I gained. Then I fear looking like I think I know it all. I know I am far from being close to knowing it all.

After 3 1/2 months of being around people with individual personalities, I am now in another environment full of people with their own personalities. Less than half a year ago it was totally normal to me, but now it's a little more foreign than I would have expected.

I find myself highly adaptable.....so much that it isn't always healthy. If I see a play or a movie I sometimes begin to take on the mood or a similar thought process as the characters, at least for a few minutes.

Sometimes I adapt to the people I am around. I try to fit into certain senses of humor or speech or ideas that I seem to lose a little sight of myself. When I do that it's just not good.

I wrote in one of my last email updates from Chicago about the issue of trust. Am I seen as trustworthy? I want to be. I hate gossip; it tears us apart. And yet, there I am, contiributing to it sometimes. Hold me accountable, ok? If you're reading this, hold me accountable. If it takes a village to raise a child then it takes a whole support network to nurture an individual.

I regret some things, but don't we all? It's the things I cherish that take greater precedence. What if I could really strip myself of selfishness?

My friend Mariko from Breakthrough had this to say, and I value it:

"may god bless you with a restless discomfort about easy answers, half-truths and superficial relationships, so that you may seek truth boldly and love deep within your heart.....may god bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you really can make a difference in this world, so that you are able, with god's grace, to do what others claim cannot be done."

Amen.

Roadside Encounter

Well, I was totally planning to see Jimmy Wayne in concert tomorrow night. In fact, I've been missing opportunity after opportunity of seeing the man play his guitar in person. The reason this time? My car.

I was driving home from an appointment in Fayetteville when I realized my "check gages" sign was on. After spending some time at a Jiffy Lube (where they told me what needed to be fixed but they didn't fix radiators)I figured it was ok to drive home because they gave me some coolant for my overheated car. That's didn't work out as well as planned. I pulled over at another gas station to discover that smoke was coming from underneath my hood.

The tears started to come because I was frustrated about my car, but mostly about not being able to drive 2 1/2 hours the next day to go see my favorite singer. A man wandered over and asked if I needed help. I said I was fine, but he insisted. So he began looking at my car and assuring me that God takes care of us.

He mentioned that he was homeless and told me that some people think homelessness is a joke. I imagine that he assumed I hadn't thought twice about homelessness. I could have told him I was in seminary or that I had just gotten back from a semester on the west side of Chicago. I could have let him know that I am a Christian.

But I didn't. I simply nodded my head when he told me that God takes care of us and thanked him. I think I was too upset to do much explaining, but maybe that was good. Maybe it was his turn to be in a teaching role and it was my turn to listen. Maybe I should just be happy I have a car and a place to sleep and worry a little less about seeing Jimmy Wayne.

One Year

"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." ~Joshua 1:9

These are words God spoke to Joshua, but I also beleive they are words he is speaking to me. Even when I am away from an environment I love, God is still with me. I find myself in this odd place. Who am I in the context of Buies Creek now that I have experienced what I've experienced?

This wasn't my first time living in the urban neighborhood I was ministering with and to, but this is probably the first time I don't doubt my calling. Of course there are the questions of what city, but I don't doubt my calling to a city.

Edward Gilbreath mentioned in his book, Reconciliation Blues, that he had to figure out who he was as a black Christian in a predominately white setting. I didn't get that at first, but I sure do now. Who am I as a Christian called to the urban and living in the rural?

One year. Time has shown how that flies by. I have one year in this environment and then its over. Sure I'll visit, I've got roots here. I'm starting to have roots all over the country.

One year. What amazing things is God going to do with this next period of my life? I look forward to finding out.

Haha

So I got a commerical response to my last post on Myspace. Go figure- everything is commericalized! Anyhow, the ad told me thank you for what I wrote because the "girl" thought the same thing! HAHA, I wrote about Uh-Oh the cat stalking me. But hey, if other people who just happen to be selling something understand what it's like to be stalked by a cat, more power to them.

Uh-Oh

So there's this cat in my life right now. Her name is Uh-Oh (seriously). Normally this wouldn't be worth blogging about, but this cat stalks people.

It all began simply. I moved into this house (which my supervisor at Breakthrough so graciously allowed me to) and I began to enjoy the cuddly pet.

Then it started staking out my room. It loves my closet and one time I heard faint meows. Thinking they came from the cat in the hallway, I looked, only to later discover her meowing from the other side of my closet door. That's not the only time the cat has suprised me by hanging out in the closet.

If I pick her up to put her out of my room, she whines. Sometimes I have to dart out of my room, quickly pulling the door behind me to prevent her from spending all day in there. And then, just when you think she can't get you, there she is.

I was taking trash out back tonight and I looked up. There, in the third story window, sat the cat....staring (this would be a good time for some Hitchcock Psycho music). As I type she is laying on my bed, which is better than when she walks across or rubs her head on my laptop.

She's stopped scaring me. I've experienced enough of her "just appearing" to know better than to be startled.

I love animals, I really do. But when that German Shepherd ran at me today and barked at me before I knew what hit me, I realized it. There's no pet like you're pet and my pets are waiting at home. I'll be there soon.

Help! My Bicsupid!

I have had weird teeth dreams for the past couple years. I will dream that I have lost or am on the verge of loosing one or two teeth. In the most recent dream involving this topic I didn't loose teeth, but I had odd shaped holes in a tooth.

In fact, in the dream I thought about how I often dreamt about missing teeth and how awful it was that this wasn't a dream. But then it was.

I think I started having these teeth dreams around the time I interned at Waco. I honestly think that seeing so many people missing teeth really affected me! I would like to keep me teeth as long as possible. But then again, who wouldn't?

Let's Do This

So there is a lot I want to do this summer. I want to join a gym (cause frankly the state of my health is absurd), I want to start a book club, get serious about putting money in my savings account, get back into my love of the written word, and find more of the joys of living in the middle of nowhere (I might as well find them and enjoy them now because in a year I plan to be out of Harnett County...no offense to my Harnett County loved ones).

There are a lot of other plans such as going to Charleston, working two jobs, taking an advanced theology course, checking out more of the local sites (especially movies in the park at the art gallery!) and relishing this last summer vacation before I join the working world and three and a half month vacations are a thing of the past.

How do I leave this place? I am gonna figure it out in about a week and a half. It's a real reminder that it's not about me, it's about God. If ever I think the fate of a child's life rests in my hands alone, I have allowed my ego to overtake me. God can do anything with a life, I am simply the one he may choose to make it happen. Not because he needs me, but because he loves me enough to want me to be a part of the process.

And oh what a perfect patience that is! Even after I mess up time and time again God still says to me, "Daughter, I still want to use you. I forgive you. Dust off your knees where you fell, hold tighter to my hand, and let's do this."

Thank you God for picking me up time and time again.

Correction

Correction: The Olympics are not necessarily coming to Chicago. Chicago is the United States' bid in the international quest for the Olympic games. With all the hype you'd have thought it was a sure thing!

News at 5

The Olympics are coming to Chicago, I read that on the scrolling marque outside of the ABC 7 studio downtown. But that's not the part I want to focus on. I want to focus on later, when I was walking back to the L.

I passed by the studio again and realized they were doing a live broadcast. I joined the throng of people peering inside and thought about how I had wanted that to be my life. Didn't I get accepted into college as a broadcasting mass comm major? Somewhere along the way I realized I didn't want to spend my life talking to or working behind cameras.

And yet, there they were. I was mixed in with people on the sidewalk and they were on tv. I thought, as I had walked away, that no one would know what I could have been, regarding broadcasting that is. Then I realized that newscasters aren't really household names anyway. You gotta be the Katie Courics of this world to get nationwide recognition.

So maybe my path of urban ministry means a lot more. Besides, anyone who thinks one enters the broadcasting scene and immediately ends up on Chicago's ABC 7 news is only kidding his or herself. In the media world you start small and you start where no one else longs to be- early, early mornings and late, late nights. But soon you move up. Maybe you can become the next Diane Sawyer, but probably not. I'm guessing most newscasters make most of their life impact on those closest to them. So maybe they're not all that different from me.

Oh yea, across the street Diana Ross performed tonight- pretty cool.

What Color Is Your Parachute?

For me, that would be the primary colors and green. Who knew kids of all ages could appreciate a giant peice of fabric? I must say that teaching the parachute class is a wee bit more exciting than teaching board games.

In other news, I am listening to that Vitamin C song that was so popular when I graduated high school (yes, my high school year can be remembered by a woman named for part of the nutritional spectrum). Anyways, the song "Graduation" talks about how the high school graduates talk about where they'll be when they turn 25.

Now, I graduated high school at 17, so 25 seemed pretty far off at the time. I turn 25 this summer. As the plan goes (and I know God has taught me a lot about how plans can change) I will be turning 25 in Harnett County, North Carolina, fresh from a semester in Chicago. I'll be babysitting the kids, just finished up with an advanced theology course, and enjoying my last real summer break.

The song also questioned whether the graduates would be the same when they started making big money. Ha! I don't think big money is in my future. So, at 25 I will have a better understanding of God's call on my life- a far cry from my broadcasting in NYC ambitions at the age of 17. Life changes for the better all the time.

Simple Words

I was telling a student today that I will be leaving to go back to North Carolina. After explaining to her why, she asked me if I had to write about my time here. I said yes. She said, "Put me in it."

These kids mean more than they know.

450? Not a Problem

So I was a little anxious over whether or not I would meet my 450 hour internship requirement. So, wanting to calm my anxiety (or find multiple ways of earning more hours) I got to work adding all that work time. Let's just say hours won't be a problem. Add to the fact that I am not counting a lot of work time (for instance, if I got in at 8:15 I just started adding from 8:30....do that a bit and you exclude a good three or four hours) means that I will have even more than required that I don't show.

Now that I know that's taken care of I can focus more on what's been tugging at my heart these past few days...leaving. Maybe it's presumptious for me to call the youth "my kids." But here's the truth that they don't know- I care about them.

Kim, a co-worker, told me that her daughter thinks I am so cool. I don't write that to be like "look at me!" I write that because I really struggled with what I thought was a lack of connection with the kids. I love walking down the street getting greeted by some of the kids that are on the other side of the street. I've really connected with two girls in particular. I didn't realize how much so until they had been gone for spring break and I could see their expressions and attitudes when I got to see them again.

I admitted to Marcie that I didn't think I was good at this whole youth thing. I have my high and low periods, but I don't think I should ever come to a point of saying, "I'm good with these kids, I know all there is to know." This ministry is a constant learning process and I learned from DeVos that one of my spiritual gifts is learning! But seriously, I don't tire of learning.

I think I really want to work in a non-profit urban ministry, but lately I've realized I am earning an MDiv, which is a great commodity for working in a church. I'm considering both options, but I will probably apply to non-profits and then to churches. That said, I have one year of seminary left...so keep me in mind in another 6 months as I begin to seriously start applying for ministry positions. Let me know if you hear of any places that will be looking for people! Ideally I"d like to come back to Chicago, but I'm open to where God wants to send me. And yes, I could see myself in inner city Durham.

My time at Breakthrough has been invaluable. I had considered staying during the summer and getting a full time job and volunteering a few hours a week at the center. Man, I would love that. But I know God is preparing the way for me to be back in NC this summer. I want to come back and visit, who knows. I just know that I feel a yank on my heart when I think of leaving these kids.

Whoa

Wow. So today was pretty much amazing. There's been this off and on frustration in my life lately. I think God clued me in a little bit today about it. I thought I was supposed to learn one thing, and maybe I was supposed to learn another. I had set my agenda and it wasn't being met. But maybe God is teaching me something personal about myself and the ministry he's given me.

So my dad got a little brighter- then the card came. Once I saw the purple envelope I was pretty sure it was for me. Mom said she had sent me an Easter card. I tore into it and found a card and a Borders gift card! I was quite excited and proceeded to share this exciting news with others.

Then, a huge box was delivered to Breakthrough and I didn't think a whole lot about it. Then I found out my name was on it! I got back to the house and tore into that. I got a whole basket full of shower gels, body lotions, candy, and other stuff. One of the adult Sunday School classes at church sent it to me.

I love getting mail, but even more I love the people who send it.

And mom....I love you.

More Coyote Goodness

Now, the thrilling story proceeding the previous linked article.

http://www.suntimes.com/news/metro/325903,CST-NWS-coyote04.article

Headline: Coyote Cools off in Downtown Chicago

So this post is mostly for my non-Chicago friends, as those of you here have more than likely heard this story.

A coyote walked into a Quiznos in the Loop the other day. Now, the Loop is the economic center of Chicago and quite a busy little place if you happen upon it before offices close for the day. So my fellow interns and I didn't quite understand how no one seemed to notice this furry creature striding through the area that contains the Sears Tower. According to a Chicago Tribune article, some people thought it was a dog. Not that an urban canine running down the sidewalk is normal or anything.

The video footage on the news was priceless. He walked in quite nonchalantly and proceeded to sit in the beverage cooler, which held the bottled sodas.

The same article also mentioned that the people in the Quiznos calmly walked out. I, on the other hand, would have had to stop myself from just happening to need a soda at the same time the coyote cooled off near the Pepsis.

Read the linked article from the Chicago Sun-Times to find out about his trek back to the woods. The last sentence is priceless.

http://www.suntimes.com/news/metro/326865,CST-NWS-coyotegone04.article

Frederick, The Dog Rescuer

The summer after my freshman year of college I was quite the dog rescuer. Domestic dog running the streets? I'd track down the rabies tag number through the Humane Society and take that dog safely home. I was doing pretty well with the whole dog rescue gig until I found a small dog outside and off a leash. Those, my friends, are prime dog-in-trouble qualities. So I asked the couple at a house nearby if they knew whose dog it was. It was theirs.

So ended my spree of good canine deeds. Then today happened. I have excellent dog radar. If there is a dog within 100 yards I can usually spot it. This dog, however, is different. Usually I won't notice him until I'm right beside him.

The first time I saw him he was lying by the sidewalk eating snow. The other times he was safely in his yard, letting out a bark as I passed. Today he was running along the sidewalk.

I wanted to get closer to him but he was half a block away on Carroll Avenue, near Breakthrough. He'd stop and sniff and then trot a few more steps and do more of the same. I had no idea if this was a friendly dog, but I was about to find out.

Finally I got close enough to utter a sweet, "Hey!" to the overgrown baby. He trotted over and expected to be petted, to which I happily obliged. This fearsome dog behind the iron fence was nothing but an overgrown lapdog. We started our trek back down the block.

A couple times he was distracted by the barks of another dog, but I urged him along. A man passed by on the other side of the street and I am pretty sure he thought I was walking my dog without a leash as I kept uttering sweetly, "Come on!"

I let the German Shepherd know his owners wanted him. When we got to the gate I saw that it was cracked open. I also hoped it was the right gate or some poor kid, being terrified of dogs, was going to find a rather large pup in his front yard. I told the dog he needed to go home and I shut the gate after he slipped in.

That's when I noticed her. She yelled at me for stealing her precious baby. Haha, I'm so kidding- wanted to make sure you were really reading. Actually, she was so thankful (this I deduced by the repeated "thank you's" in an amazed tone) and was astonished that I knew where to put him.

I continued onto work with a spring in my step, happy to be of service.

Reassurance

I was reading over previous posts and came across the one where I discussed my issues with OCD and my faith. I just want to say that God, as he always does, has been reassuring me more and more of my salvation in him. Things that would have scared me before are ok because I can feel God giving me peace about them. Through prayer and talking to other Christians, God is showing me a lot.

I am not dumb, and I know the fears will plague me again- it's the nature of the disorder. But I know that my savior is here to calm my fears.

Random Assortment of Topics

First, does anyone who is reading this on blogspot know if a person can leave a comment without registering with blogspot? Someone wanted to make a comment on one of my posts, but had to go through all this hassle of signing up.

Second, today was an incredible day. I had BUILD class and honestly I wasn't all that excited about it. Yet, I think there was a breakthrough today. I spoke up about issues, when before I just sat there and let my thoughts roll around in my head. I think it helped that it was a smaller group. I no longer feel like anyone is negating my experiences because of race. Rather, I see more of where others are coming from and I feel like they understand a little more about me. Dare I say it? I am really looking forward to the next class.

The discussion moved into politics and the war which is one area where I am quite passionate. Going into the type of ministry I'm in you would think I'd be a Democrat. I'm not going to go into it here, but there are plenty of reasons why I am a Republican (and no, it's not just about moral values), even with the line of work I'm in. I refuse to subscribe to the policy that says a person interested in social justice has to be a democrat. I also refuse to subscribe to the notion that Christians have to be Republicans. I think it's important for people to remember that political parties are systems created by failed humans. No political party is going to be perfect.

That being said, let me move on to my third topic......money! I went to this presentation tonight with this rich lady (who makes about $850,000 a year in Mary Kay and doesn't even sell the product, she just got so high up in the company that she earns a percentage of what people under her earn) trying to get people to sell Mary Kay.

I was listening and she threw out all these reasons why corporate America is the bad guy and master's degrees aren't worth anything. She went on and on about all the places she's gone and how she's earned 8 cars and toured the Vatican at night and stayed in luxurious hotels and on and on and on.

Realize now, I had just come from work where the lifestyle is anything but lavish and full of trips to Greece. She talked about how people would remember you. The point was, if you were rich people would remember you has being happy and being able to do things you loved and giving money away. She asked if anyone would like to have her lifestyle. I didn't raise my hand.

Here comes the hard part: how do I hear this and not judge? I thought about how God loves her every bit as much as anyone else, but I couldn't help think....what's the point in this kind of life? She said she gives to charities and I think that's great. I can't say what her relationship to or with God is. My job is to love her. I have such a potential to get so bitter. How do you hear these stories of crazy lavish lives and not get annoyed with the person?

Oh sure I got tired of hearing her talk and my bottom started to hurt from the hotel chair, but I can't really say she made me mad. I wasn't mad or even all that bitter.....just thoughtful. No, I don't want a private helicopter to fly me around Spain. At the same time I don't want to think I am a better person for my lifestyle cause that's just plain wrong.

I know I just said I don't want to be bitter, but I really want to say something. She kept mentioning the national news source, Rueters, by pronouncing it, "Rooters." It's pronounced "Royters." I distinctly remember my college journalism professor saying you'll sound like you don't know what you're talking about if you pronounce it wrong. But I guess that was for us journalism people. I don't think the rest of the world really cares!