Buddies

Hutch has been extra cuddly now that he is less poofy...



I went to grab my laptop bag to leave for work, and this is what I found...guess he didn't want me to go.

Too Young to be Old

There is a running joke in Jesse's family that when you hit 22 years old, your body falls apart. I can easily argue I began to fall apart a good twenty years before him, but suddenly, at the ripe age of almost 26, I find my aches and pains have increased.

With little motion in my left arm and throbbing left limbs, I decided it was time to finally get it checked out.

It's probably a good thing I went to the chiropractor because it turns out, I really am falling apart!  Well not quite, but almost.  I have tendinitis in my left rotatorcuff and a pinched nerve in my neck causing numbness and pain in my left side.  Imagine that!  So here I sit, propping my left arm up on the desk so it doesn't go numb.

After adjusting me, the doctor suggested I go home and rest since I'd be no good at work today.  I chuckled and explained that the only way I get through my normal back pain is to work through it--to distract myself from the pain.  Thankfully he understood and gave me the go ahead to return to work, but to take it easy. TAKING IT EASY, HERE I COME. :)  Does this mean I can just go lay by the pool every day???

Jabberlips at Her Best

Growing up in Oregon automatically made me live what the media likes to call Green. We recycled, composted, walked to work to save gas, and most importantly appreciated our surroundings. It’s easy to appreciate nature when you live in one of the most beautiful places on earth (I’m not biased at all). Suddenly, the rest of the country has found itself crazed to do the same—Go GREEN. Basically all it means is building new habits and new mindsets, but the media likes to portray it as a drastic step to single-handedly save the world…from global warming no less.

Our new office building has joined the band wagon, working toward its Silver Status on the Going Green scale. We as employees are encouraged to recycle and compost, turn off lights when leaving a room, and limit the amount of water we flush in the loo. For me personally, this isn’t a change, but rather a return to the norm. But I’ve discovered my normal is by far not normal here. Just the other day one of our managers flung his banana peel into the trash reciprocal rather than placing it in the compost bin. Both bins sit side by side, so I figured he’d merely forgotten about the new service and kindly reminded him. He wasn’t pleased as he watched my uncontrollable hand pluck the banana peel, now stuck to a tissue and old stir stick, from the trash and place it in the CORRECT bin. Little did I realize my lack of control would create an uproar. Not only was he completely grossed out, but he proceeded to tell me how recycling is a waste of energy and his one banana peel isn’t going to benefit anyone.

Now, I’ll give him this…media’s concept of Green has gone too far. But sadly, we’ve lost focus on what we’re really trying to accomplish. Isn’t there a happy-medium? Perhaps a place where we can call ourselves Green, but move beyond that and appreciate the reasons why we do it? One banana peel isn’t going to save the world…that’s not the point at all.  I relocated the peel because I appreciate the world I live in. It’s my small way to express gratitude. It’s my way to show God I love his Creation. I may seem Green, but really I just love the greenery.

You may wonder about the header for today's blog...My dear sister nicknamed me Jabberlips because I talk way too much sometimes.  This morning I was feeling a little Jabberlippy...

Hello Again, Monday

Our weekend began with a bit of excitement--once again it would seem our building has a mind of its own.  Some call it a curse, others call it bad luck.  We happen to think it's carelessness.  Regardless, the fire on Friday night was due to an AC unit overworking itself in this hot, humid weather.  The police and fire departments both responded quickly, and no one walked away harmed other than ringing earlobes from the alarms.





Jesse left on a business trip this morning, but not without having to explain to Hutch he couldn't join this time. 

Happy Anniversary!!!!!!

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, DAD AND MOM!!!

Thank you for teaching us what love is--persevering, unselfish, honest, and most of all unconditional.  We are blessed to have parents who have stuck with each other through thick and thin.  Thank you for loving each other.  Philippians 1:7 says, "...for you have a special place in my heart..."  You demonstrate this to each other every day.  Love you so much!!!

Pursuing Dreams AND Reality

There has been much debate on which careers we should pursue in life.  Jobs that pay three figures, positions that use your best skills, and the graduation-happy one--do what you love most.  In reality, we don't always get to do our dream job.  If we did, we'd all be in a spaceship or inside the hippo display at the zoo.  As tiny people, we dream big--ballerina, fireman, doctor, zoologist.  Nothing limits our dreams when our hands don't yet fit around a coffee cup.  It's when the dreams must turn into reality that people find themselves scrambling for any job--any position that will pay the bills and keep them afloat.

This past week, several coworkers have come to me to discuss their frustrations concerning their positions.  I've heard, "I'm not happy here," and "I've always wanted to be ______, but I just don't know how to get there."  The discouragement and discontentment in their voices is overwhelming, and as they ask me for advice, I'm at a loss for what to tell them.

The grass may seem greener on the other side when deadlines are pounding on your door and customers are demanding the impossible.  The men and women who work here are talented and extremely intelligent in their areas of expertise. Am I supposed to say drop it all and run for your dreams? Am I supposed to say risk everything and pursue "happiness?" Or am I supposed to encourage these discouraged friends and tell them to stick with it?  I wish I knew the perfect answer, and while each scenario is different, I'm not convinced we're always called to do what we love. 

There are many days I regret dropping the education degree from my diploma.  The simple BS in English Literature has served me well, but I'll admit being a teacher still attracts me.  Yet, I can't ignore the ways God has used me in my two jobs since graduating college. My coworkers are all hungry for something--purpose, answers, happiness.  I have the perfect answer for them, but if I weren't here--perhaps traveling the remote lands of India for National Geographic like I had originally wanted--they wouldn't get to hear the Good News. 

We should do what makes us happy, but God provides happiness and purpose in ways we could never imagine.  I'm not excited to say I'm just an assistant, but it's what I actually DO that makes me happy.  Yes, being a teacher would be much for fun, but I'm learning more and more that we are not defined by what we do.  It's how we do it, who we influence, and why we do it that really matters.  I'm still not sure of the perfect advice to provide to my disgruntled coworkers, but I do know that contentment can be found in the most unexpected places.  And...God doesn't forget about the desires of my heart. He knows I want to write someday--He knows I want to live on a ranch.  He's just not taking me there yet.  My job here is not yet finished.

Sisters

Giggles emerging from the treetops was not an uncommon occurrence on 5th Avenue. Bike Olympics and “Hot Lava” occupied busy little feet, and home-recorded radio shows were accompanied by the electric drum theme song. Quarters and pennies piled in small mounds across the floor, car games galore driving down I-5 to Palm Springs, and drives to Indian Beach just for the sake of taking a drive. While random, and perhaps a tad bit silly, all of these activities have one thing in common: the two blond haired wonders who enjoyed them together.

I grew up desperately wanting an older brother. There was a notion that an older brother would protect me, carrying me way up high on his broad shoulders. He never came, but if I had dropped the stereotypes built so firmly inside me, I’d have seen that I didn’t need a brother—I had an older sister. Holly and I had our moments of persistent bickering, and my ever present ability to nag didn’t help. I’m sad to say I lived up to the little sister role in every way possible—I was a pest, I tattled, I bit and she got in trouble for it, but I also adored her, looked up to her, and wanted to spend every moment knowing she approved of me.

My parents diligently encouraged us to love each other, even on days we wanted nothing more than space. They taught us how to show love in our own ways, how to spend time together enjoying each other’s different interests, and most of all they taught us to never let go.

Holly is my sister, but she is also my friend. I look up to her, I yearn to spend time with her, and I love her. I can remember a time when I confessed a terrible mistake I’d made, and her response was, “It’s going to be okay—I still love you, and I’m here for you.” It is these moments I see the love my parents instilled in us. We’re not tiny girls running around putting on puppet shows anymore, but the bond between us only grows stronger.

I love Holly dearly. I’m not always very good at showing it or even saying it, but I hope she understands that there is a deep longing inside me telling me that part of me exists because of her. She influences me. An older brother could’ve never lived up to Holly. She’s the full package, and I’m so thankful to have her as my older sister.

Childlike Bravery

Sometimes I wonder how God wants to use me in the workplace.  At the age of six, I was having conversations about Jesus over a carton of chocolate milk.  Recess was a time of chasing boys and seeing how high we could push the swing to go, but Jesus always came up.  Children have a curiosity for what their parents believe, and I always talked about church, the Bible, Jesus, and of course the do's and the dont's.  And now that I find myself just shy of the age six and twenty, the carton of milk has transformed into a cup of coffee, and the conversations of Jesus have ceased.
Our culture tells us not to push our beliefs on others--we're taught that all religions are good, that Jesus is just one option to take.  I don't believe our culture is correct, but my actions say otherwise. 
Several weeks ago, I was discussing forgiveness with a friend here at work.  He'd grown up with an abusive father who passed away recently.  This friend wanted so badly to find peace, and so I talked to him about forgiveness, and what it means.  God came up in the conversation, and while I know for a fact this friend doesn't believe Christianity is for him, he listened.  Culture is wrong--we can share about our beliefs.  Jesus told us to go out into the world and spread the Good News.  Perhaps we should start by going out into our neighborhoods, our workplaces, the grocery stores.  I'm guilty of keeping Jesus to myself, squelching the urge to say something as simple as "God cares" to someone who needs to hear it. 
Maturity is important, but maybe we should all think back to when we were six--free of culture's limitations, ready to take on the world--ready to go out into the world and share the Good News.

Happy Monday!

Shopping, anyone??

Father's Day Weekend

Hallmark may have banked on celebrations like Graduation and Earth Day, but Mother's and Father's Day are holidays we should take quite seriously.  Our moms and dads mold us into who we are, and let's face it--we all become our parents! :)  This weekend is Father's Day and we love our dads.  Larry Nelson and Gary Field--two men who resemble Christ's love by leading their family and loving their children. THANK YOU!!!!  This Father's Day, Jesse and I will be celebrating all fathers, but two especially--our own dads.  One daddy has gone to live with Jesus while the other daddy is still on this earth.  Both are loved so dearly.  We can't thank God enough for providing two fathers who live their life for Christ in such a way that affects everyone around them. 

                           

Great Start to the Day

It's the small things in life that make the day bright...like MAPLE DONUTS!!!

I'm blessed to have coworkers who actually care about me...they know that a rainy day makes me feel homesick, they know to fix my tea with sugar and milk, and they especially know that I LOVE maple bars.  While Virginia doesn't know what maple bars are, they definitely have maple donuts...and so...whenever someone brings in donuts for the office, there is always ONE maple bar in the box JUST FOR ME. :)  I have to say I work with some pretty wonderful people...thoughtful people make me smile too.

See those freckles on my nose...it's just the beginning of my summer look. :)

At Last!!!

We are finally moving in to our new office today!!!

Irresistible Flavors

We discovered Hutch has an appreciation for the fine arts of cooking.  Now if we could only teach him to empty the dishwasher...

Emptying the Mind

This weekend I realized something that could be life-changing (at least for me).  I'm not sure why I hadn't realized it before, but I suppose in my focus to get it all done, I've ignored a crucial fact.  I THINK ABOUT CHORES TOO OFTEN.  Ever since I can remember, I've had a broom in one hand and a rag in the other.  Cleaning provides a sense of satisfaction not much else can.  Since moving to Virginia, however, the weekly chores have become mundane--almost irritating, often sending me into a reeling cloud of self-pity.  This past weekend required us to slow down quite a bit to take care of our healing pup, and yet by the time Sunday afternoon rolled around, I was exhausted.  After making a quick weekend synopsis, I realized that while I had done hardly any chores at all, they had been on my mind constantly.  While I was watching a movie, cuddled up with Jesse and Hutch, the pile of dishes in the sink blared in the corner of my eye.  Though I slept in until 6:45am, my first thoughts were what I had to do to get ready for Monday.

So what I decided this weekend is that in order to rest--fully rest--the kind where the lines on your forehead disappear and your heart evens out to a steady pace--I must remove the lists from my mind.  Perhaps this means filling my mind with more Scripture, or slowly teaching myself how to bend my thoughts away from daily routines.  I figure at least I've taken the first step and realized my problem....they say that's the hardest part, right? Ha!

Hutch weighed in at nine pounds...I guess this means our little boy is no longer so little.

June 9th

To celeberate our Fourth Anniversary, Jesse took me to The Melting Pot for dinner.  We had a four course adventure--cheese, salad, meats, and then chocolate fondue.  Yum Yum!!

It was a hot day!

 

 

We ordered Yin Yang dessert--half dark chocolate/half white chocolate. It was delicious!

Power of Prayer

It's not always what you say that sticks with me, it's what you do.  My parents realized early on that I learned by example and repetition.  As a small girl, I experienced many interrupted nights due to vivid nightmares.  Some nights I'd awake to my mom shaking me and softly saying, "It's just a dream, Sweetie, I'm here now."  Other nights I'd jolt into a sitting position and feel the puddle of sweat around me, still shaken from the images I'd been living out moments before.  While I can only remember a few of these terrifying dreams, I do remember how my mom solved the problem.  Each night before I would turn off the light and the dread of what was to come kicked in, my mom would pray with me.  She taught me that God cares about the little things in life, and He is in control even when we're fast asleep.  It wasn't long before the nightmares stopped their frequent visitations.  It was through her example and nightly ritual of praying for God's hedge of protection over her sleeping child that I learned the power of prayer.  Even in college, I would pray that God would control my thoughts and fears during the night, and He always did.





Apples & Bananas

With bananas stuffed in every nook and cranny of the freezer, it was high time I made some banana bread.  I will confess one of my flaws (just one of the many) is that I buy bananas as if we eat them.  While it's my goal to eat a banana every day, the bananas usually find themselves on a chilly shelf ready to become a sweet treat.  I bake banana bread so often it's become second nature to me, but never have I run out of sugar.  Until last night.  With some quick thinking, and not exactly the most in depth thinking, since I didn't even consider using brown sugar, I threw in a couple big spoonfuls of apple sauce.  The outcome was DELICIOUS.  In fact, apple sauce will make a debut in my banana bread every time now.  It made the crust almost caramelized. So if you want to add a hidden surprise in your own banana bread recipe, throw in some applesauce!!  

Touch of Summer

Hutch and I felt the need to brighten up our accessories to match the summer cheer outside.

He is LORD

Today was Baptism Sunday.  Baptism--the public declaration that one has accepted Christ.  Every church family performs baptism differently--there is the forward dunk, the three-times dunk, the baptisms in the ocean at sunrise, and the baptisms in a chilly pool behind the pastor's podium.  Regardless of how they do it, baptisms are always a celebration.  Our church happens to make baptisms a huge celebration.  While we worshipped God through song, prayer, and communion, we witnessed several people of all ages declare their love for Christ.  After each declaration, the church family whooped and hollered, clapping their praise for each celebration.  At one point I broke down in tears because I stood still for a moment and took it all in.  Hundreds of voices singing praise to Christ while we watched men and women profess their faith.  Our praise and joy was for Christ.  Our celebration and joy came from Christ.  Our support and encouragement for each of them was because of Christ.
The sermon before this big Baptism celebration was about Jesus Christ and who He was.  Why do we learn about Him?  What impact did He have on the world?  Why should we care about this carpenter, a Palestine, who lived so long ago? 
Jesus Christ is the reason for it all.  He is ALL.  Without Him, we are nothing.  We have no purpose, no reason, no direction.  He IS.

Walking away from the front doors this morning, I realized how often I put Jesus in my pocket.  I make Him convenient, pulling Him out only when I feel the need.  I accepted Jesus into my heart at five years old.  I was baptised as a young teenager in front of my church family.  Since then, life has come my way.  I've walked the narrow road.  I've walked the wide and easy road.  But the whole time my Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit have been by my side.  Who am I to put Jesus in my pocket?  Who am I to ignore His voice?  Who am I to make decision on my own?  The answer to all those questions is I am nobody without Him.

I'm rambling a bit, I realize that, but I'm overwhelmed by what I witnessed today.  Since losing Jesse's dad, I've tried making my life count more than it ever has.  Gary Timothy Field was a man who understood who Jesus was.  Every day was a day he wanted to live like Christ, for Christ.  His life was a testimony to his faith, and everyone who knew him knew that there was something very special about him.  That specialness was Jesus Christ.  We miss him, oh how we miss him.  But he left us a wonderful gift--an example of how we should live our own lives.  He lived like every day was a sermon of Jesus' sacrifice.  He lived like every day was his baptism day--his public declaration that He loved Jesus Christ.

Hutch at Work

He's learned the first step, now on to the second...coming back down.

Creepy Crawlies

While I'd like for this to be another wordless day, I'm feeling the need to vent.  Don't worry, I won't complain about the government's inability to solve the country's problems or even about how the summer humidity makes my hair stand on in.  No, what I must complain about at this moment concerns something on a much smaller scale.  APHIDS.  My once quite colorful floating garden has been overcome by these sticky, little creatures who suck the life out of anything pretty.  "Just get rid of them," you might tell me.  Well....apparently I purchased the wrong pesticide.  So, it was on to the second plan...the $12 bag of lady bugs lasted for about two minutes. Only later did I realized pesticide residue is deadly to the pretty little ladies.  I'm on to my third remedy--warm, soapy water and my good-ol'-fashioned hands.  While my plants at the moment look mostly free of these awful little devils, I now feel like my skin is crawling.  I keep looking down to check if I myself am being sucked of life. I suppose in the grand scheme of life, my bug issue is quite small.  On the brighter side of things...they have yet to find my tomato plant, which is sporting several very bright green fruit!! See?  I'm able to turn my venting back into the right direction--just have to get it out sometimes. :)

NOTE***
My new blog background is a hint to what our guestroom has been transformed into.

Wordless Wednesday