four-minute friday: tight
Go.
It’s been one helluva week.
I’ve been crazy-emotional. I don’t feel well. I’m exhausted. I received some rough interesting emails. I have more to do than I have time to do it in or energy to do it with. I miss my friends. I’m desperate for a real hug.
And that’s the short list.
On top of which I went and did something crazy.
Posting about my new normal was by far the biggest risk I’ve taken this year.
I was scared of being that vulnerable; I was anxious about the responses that would come.
But then there was the hug in the form of a blog post about me that caught me completely off guard in the best way possible.
There were the phone calls, texts, emails, and comments I received from people who care deeply for me.
There was the “I love you” from God that came in the form of “I love you”s from people.
As this crazy-hard week comes to an end, I’m assured that I’m not alone.
He’s holding me tight.
And so are you.
Done.
four-minute friday: risk
Go.
The first two months of 2010—can you believe it’s the end of February already?!—have held lots of risks for me. Y’all remember that’s my one word focus for the year, right? (What? I’m living in Georgia. I can say y’all.)
My year of risk is well underway.
I went on vacation with a bunch of near-strangers.
I rappelled 100 feet into a Mexican canyon.
I’ve intentionally endured quite a few awkward situations.
But those have paled in comparison to the risks I’ve taken with my heart.
I’ve prayed risky prayers. I’ve been more authentic in the moment. I’ve wrestled with truly forgiving my wayward husband.
And as I look toward the horizon, there is a lot that makes me very nervous.
Like the six week ministry fundraising trip I’m embarking on this spring. By myself. It feels incredibly daunting after always having a wingman (who was also the extrovert and public speaker of the two of us).
I signed up for a half-marathon. Which I fear will be a health risk more than anything else. But I am determined to cross the finish line no matter what.
And I’m going to continue risking big with my heart. Although it hasn’t started getting any easier yet.
Your turn to check in.
How have you done with your one word?
I’d love to see us rally around each other to cheer one another on!
Done.
four-minute friday: something
Go.
My brain is struggling to land somewhere I can four-minute about.
I’ve got nothing.
Because I shouldn’t really soapbox about how much I resent the Snowpocalypse that has been kicking DC’s butt all week. I mean, I don’t even live there.
I can’t explain the stressful few hours I had yesterday afternoon, most of it spent on the phone. On hold. And there really is no more helpless feeling than being left on hold for 45 minutes.
I won’t bore you with the story of why I packed and unpacked and repacked all in less than 24 hours.
I can tell you I’ve got that Christmas Eve I-can’t-sleep-cause-I’m-so-excited thing going on. And I won’t even mind when my alarm wakes me up at 4:30 AM.
If you know how un-morning-person I am, you know that’s a really big deal.
But it’s so worth it.
So. Worth. It.
But that’s all I can say.
So really, you should tell me something.
Anything.
Done.
four-minute friday: self-awareness
Go.
I recently realized that I’m not very self-aware. Which, for someone who isn’t self-aware, is a pretty big realization to come to. I’m just sayin.
I don’t feel as though I have a good understanding of my own personality.
I don’t connect the dots about things going on in my life. Emotionally. Physically. Spiritually. I just don’t seem to be cognizant that A + B might’ve equaled the C I’m currently feeling.
When I hear friends describe themselves or explain how they usually respond in certain situations or say that what they ate yesterday is messing up their GI track today, I always think, “Wow. How did they figure that out?!”
It just hit me that my lack of self-awareness might play a big role in my inability to choose favorites. Or be decisive. Because, honestly, a lot of the time I legitimately don’t know what I like. When I shrug and say I don’t have a preference, it’s because I really don’t know what I’d prefer.
I feel like the chick on Runaway Bride who doesn’t know how she likes her eggs cooked.
Although I do know how I like my eggs. If breakfast burrito counts as an answer. Seriously, cheese and salsa make just about anything better. That much I know for sure.
But for most everything else, I sincerely don’t know what I like. Or how I typically process things. Or even if my tummy issues are triggered by a certain food. I simply don’t know.
Because I’m just not self-aware enough to understand me.
What is up with THAT?!
Done.
three-minute thursday: take 19
Go.
I spent four hours in a studio today shooting a new promo video for Thrive. And I’ve gotta tell you — I am juiced right now!
I went into this thing feeling kinda nervous about it. Intimidated by it really. I’ve done this sorta thing before, but never by myself. And for someone who tends to shy away from the proverbial spotlight, being in a literal spotlight all by my lonesome can be pretty nerve-wracking.
But then I got there. And we started brainstorming. And story-boarding. And talking vision.
And everything changed.
Granted, I was still nervous. And some things took more takes than I’d like because I’d speak too fast, or trip over my own words, or wiggle my arms or legs too much. And there were times I had to say “Just wait a sec” while I took a minute to think through what I wanted to say. But the producer always knew when I was ready. He said he could see me get my game face on and inevitably the very next take would be the one.
I can honestly say I had a blast today.
Because I seriously love talking about Thrive Africa.
Done.
four-minute friday: ED
Go.
I hate pharmaceutical commercials.
One came on the other day when I was watching TV with 14-year-old K. Suddenly the room was flooded with phrases like prostate cancer, impotence, and erectile dysfunction. I silently prayed that K wasn’t paying attention.
Sure enough…
“What’s a prostate?”
My eyes widened. I maybe even gasped.
“Well, it’s a gland that only guys have because it’s inside them in their… in their…” I opted for gestures instead of words.
Now it was K’s turn for the wide-eyed gasp. Followed by a squeal and some “I wish I didn’t know that” groans.
But I got off easy.
She could’ve asked me what erectile dysfunction is.
Done.
four-minute friday: fleece is my favorite comfort food
Go.
I’ve been in DC since Wednesday. That was a hard day for me. Even as I type that, I can’t help but sigh with my eyes closed. All I wanted to do was wrap up in a warm cozy fleece. But I don’t have one. (Not with me in America anyway.)
As I waited for my flight I tweeted that fleece is the clothing equivalent of comfort food. I would’ve bought one right then if I could.
Instead my friend loaned me one the moment I arrived in DC.
It felt like a hug I could wear all day.
I needed that.
Never mind the fact that it’s ridiculously cold here. At least compared to the HTL. Mmmhmm. I just combined Hotlanta and The ATL to form my own brand new nickname for my current hometown.
So I’ll keep borrowing a fleece.
To stay warm and keep my heart feeling as hugged as possible.
From DC to the HTL.
Done.
four-minute friday: spider-webbing
Go.
This is how my brain works. I call it spider-webbing:
I bought a pumpkin spice candle today for my room. Because it smells like autumn, my favorite season.
I’ve always said my beloved chai tastes like autumn in a cup. Mmmm…
While fall is my favorite official season, my favorite unofficial one is from the launch of Starbucks’ red cups of happiness until Christmas. Mmhmmm. I just mentioned Christmas on my blog. And it’s only September.
I used to love buying school supplies. I’ve been fighting the urge to buy a pack of really good pens, but maybe I should since I lost one of my favorites this week. It rolled out of reach under a couch occupied by people talking about country music.
I’m heading to Nashville next week. For the first time ever. (‘Cause layovers don’t count.) And I’m all chuckles because it was my childhood dream to live there. Why? I wanted to live near Amy Grant.
I haven’t listened to Amy Grant in years.
I just removed Michael W. Smith from my iPod. Sorry all you still-adoring fans. I just couldn’t do it anymore.
A friend video’d herself singing a worship song she wrote, and sent it to me. A few others sent me video messages this week as well. Did you know you could do that with that handy talk to me link up there? You can. I think you should.
I’m actually thinking of maybe making a video for an upcoming Four-Minute Friday. Waddayathink? What would you want me to ramble about for four whole minutes here on the Grit?!
Anyone out there know someone who might want to build a customized blog for this missionary? I figure it doesn’t hurt to ask.
Speaking of dustbunnies… Oh dangit! Out of time.
Done.
four-minute friday: unshaken
Go.
In thinking about what to post today, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of the actual date. I thought about describing where I was when I heard the news this fateful day 8 years ago, but wondered what it would accomplish to tell you I was in the living room of my chicken-coop-turned-apartment in Africa, and it was snowing outside.
I considered telling you about the NYC firefighter I knew who died doing the very thing he’d always dreamed of. But I don’t have it in me to muster up all the words it’d take to tell that story.
So really all I want to say is, I remember. As I know we all do. And I am grateful. Grateful for the country I call my home and the God who stands unshaken above it. Grateful that He is in control even when everything seems out of control. And grateful that He is still righteous and just when all I’m seeing feels the opposite of that.
Today I remember.
And give thanks for His faithfulness.
Done.
four-minute friday: the mountain
Go.
I’d decided I was gonna run the mountain this week. But I didn’t do it. I don’t really have a good excuse except… I don’t really want to. I’m making myself do it. Well, apparently I’m not making myself do it. But I intended to.
Kind of ironic that it takes self-discipline to have self-discipline. Wait. Wha?! Exactly.
So I’m going public with my mountainous intentions. That creates some accountability and motivation for me. Really what it creates is pressure, which will get me to run that hill because I should. Because y’all know about it now. (I gotta admit, this Yankee has found y’all to be pretty handy at times.)
So here goes. This coming week, I’m gonna do it. I’ll shave my legs so I can wear shorts, put on my running shoes, grab my iPod with a playlist made just for the occasion, and I will get my procrastinating self to the top of that darn mountain!
Just as a disclaimer: By “run the mountain”, what I really mean is “run as much of it as I can with my out-of-shapeness and angry-lung-inducing asthma, but really I’d just be happy to make it to the top at all”. So it’ll probably be more walk than run, but even that’s a stretch for this indoor girl.
Did I mention I’m living in Hotlanta?! Yeah. I’ll let you know how it goes.
What mountain are you tackling next week?
Done.
