Are you ready?

What a loaded question. I've realized over the past couple weeks, we ask this question a lot.

Are you ready ........

to be married?
to have the baby?
to move?
to graduate?
to race?

My answer is usually "umm, no", especially in reference to the race I have on Sunday with several friends. The running theme in our emails tends to be "By the way, I'm not ready!"

The thing about life, events, changes, etc is that they are all unpredictable. We live in an ever changing, surprising world. We never know what will happen. Thankfully God is sovereign and with us. "So do not fear, for I am with you, do not be dismayed for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand" Isaiah 41:10
But, that question still really made me think:

Are you ever ready for a race?
What does ready look like?
Am I ever really ready for anything?

I was READY for college. I was ready for the freedom, for the independence, for the memories, for growing up, for friends I would keep for a lifetime, for laughter that makes the tears come.
But I really wasn't ready.

I was not ready for:

studying for hours on end and not being able to "wing" a test.
the Freshman 15.
depression my Sophomore year.
heart break.
having friends die.
hard lessons that changed me forever.

or

such a sweet time of personal growth.
experiences that I will remember and cherish forever.
traveling to five different countries and "living" for a time in Costa Rica.
getting to know the Lord in the most real way I'd ever experienced.
laughing for two years straight with my roommates.

That's the interesting thing about changes and new seasons....you can never truely be ready. The more I've thought about it, I feel like the question "Are you ready" pertains to entering a state of mind where maybe you're not "ready" for the next step, but you're ready to move from where you are at present.

You may not be ready for marriage, but you're ready to be done with the restrictions and stress of engagement and the single life.
You're not ready for college, but you're ready to move past high school and it's limitations.
You're not ready to raise a child, but you're ready to be through with the discomfort of carrying a life inside of you for 9 months.
You're not ready for a race, but you're ready to be done with the pressure, time and energy it takes to train.

We're never ready for what's ahead because the possibilities are too endless! However, the unpredictability is what makes this life such a beautiful adventure! Life happens when you have pushed through the growing pains of one season, and although the future is unclear, you are intrigued and excited enough to take those steps and see what happens....come what may.

So, on a minor scale (my race) and major scale (life decisions) "Am I ready?"

No. But I'm excited to see what happens....

Word Vomit

I tend to be someone who will accidentally say what they are thinking.

OK, maybe not on accident. But I will verbalize them before giving my brain a moment to proof read the words that are about to fly out of my mouth.

This lovely habit has been the root of many embarrassing stories. Stories my longest and dearest friends will be the first to make sure you've heard.

However, this weekend, I allowed my word vomit to happen in the hopes of rescuing me. For the first time ever, it didn't work!

I'll set the scene:

Athens on Game Day.

A man that is closer in age to my mother had been talking to my roommate and myself throughout the tailgate and afterwards while we were waiting to meet up with some other friends.

We had mutual friends so there was no ending these conversations.

After attempting to "hit on" my roommate, who has boyfriend, he then moved on to me.

Lucky me.

I had just spent the better part of 5 minutes letting this man know that I was not his type, and would BORE him to tears if he were to take me out. Never have I ever tried to make myself sound boring to someone before! But when you're not interested, suddenly you will tell someone ANYTHING to get them to leave you alone.

Sir, I have 10 cats.
Really??
Will it make you leave me alone?
Maybe.
Then yes. I have 10 cats. They all sleep with me, and I call them all Kitty.
(Next time I'll try this approach.)

But I digress....

He was 40 going on 23. Also, not in the least bit close to having qualities of a guy I would go to dinner with.

At this point I'm getting desperate.

He is not getting the idea. He's draping his arm around my shoulder. I send "Help ME!" eyes to my friends, but alas, they are watching the TN v. FL game.

The music is loud. No one could even probably hear my cries for "Help" if I wanted to send out a verbal signal!

And that's when it happens. Life throws me a bone. The word vomit and habit of RIDICULOUS things happening to me provides an out!

This is how the last conversation transpires: (Remember, music is LOUD)

"You really need to get over this whole 'age' thing" - guy

" AIDS??? What AIDS thing??"- me

"When did we start talking about AIDS?" -me

"Do YOU have AIDS!!??" -me

(At this point it hits me. I just asked almost a complete stranger probably the most personal question there is. Likelihood of offending him: High. My next thought....GOOD!)

"NO! Not AIDS.....AGE!" - guy

I'm sure that he will leave me alone now. I just asked this guy if he had AIDS. I'm saved! No one recovers from that kind of question.

"You're not leaving here without giving me your number."- guy

Sigh. Word Vomit FAIL. Seriously sir?? I just asked you if you have AIDS.

5 minutes later I left.

I gave no one my number.

One day I will write a book. This story will be in it. Along with so many others that I only wish I could blog about.
But why ruin the surprise?

"Forever Young"

Myrtle Beach 2010

May the good Lord be with you

Down every road you roam.




And may sunshine and happiness



Surround you when you're far from home.







May you grow to be proud








Dignified and true







And do unto others





As you'd have done to you.




Be courageous and be brave

And in my heart you'll always stay

Forever young.

"For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there in their midst."

Matthew 18:20

Midtown, thank you for the fellowship, encouragement, love, laughter, and the joy of staying young at heart!
until next trip....

Ode to my Boys

They say to fully understand someone, you have to know where they came from.

Me, I'm the oldest of 4. The oldest of three younger brothers. Three younger brothers with strong, crazy, boy personalities. I've always told people that once you met my family, you'd understand.

My poor mother. I'm sure she tried, prayed, cried over trying to make sure I grew up some what feminine. There's only so much you can do when you're surrounded by boys all the time. When other girls were having tea parties and playing dress up I was rolling down our yard in giant refrigerator boxes, drawing beards on with my mothers eye liner pencil, and building forts that rivaled Fort Sumter. Our version of dress up was putting on my dad's clothes, which swallowed us, and then stuffing the extra room with pillows pretending to be fat people. Then we would eat cheesy poofs and wander around the house completely amused by ourselves.

My mother tried her hardest to protect the little girl inside of me that was emotionally squished due to the amount of testosterone that I grew up with. My bows always matched my dresses, and oh, there were ALWAYS bows. My hair was curled, when she figured out how to manage it, and my socks had frills that covered my entire shoe.

However....

Currently my toe nail is a lovely shade of violet charcoal. I would name it "violent midnight" if I had to pick some sort of weird, eclectic nail polish color.

Did I get a pedicure?

Nope.

Dropped my brothers kayak on it......3 months ago.

Mom, you did well. I can throw on a little black dress and wear heals with the best of them. However, if you know me at all, you know I'm ten times more "Cam" in Chacos, athletic clothes (preferably spandex), and wandering somewhere outside.

I blame this partly on him.

Oldest of my brothers and someone I could spend hours upon days at a time with and never grow tired of. He loves adventure and the outdoors just as much as I do and does a great job of calling me into it more. He'll be competing in his first Triathlon with me in October!

And these are the other two. They're just as crazy, and jacked.

We've gone shooting with semi automatics....

Climbed on the roof during a lightning storm to watch the splendor race across the sky.


Rolled kayaks in the pool. (also during a thunderstorm. Mom really hates when we do this)


Almost wrecked snowmobiles in Jackson Hole....




Mastered the art of racing sleeping bags down the basement stairs.


Ridden big wheels down a side walk and off the dock into the lake.


and countless other crazy memories...


As I've gotten older I've realized just how much I appreciate the crazy, boy dominated, adventuresome family I grew up in. It played such a huge part in who I am, and also the things I enjoy now. So, thank you brothers. Thank you for playing a huge part in who I am today by being who you are! Life wouldn't be as fun or as wonderful without you!

Love,
Sister Bear

L to R: Parker (aka P-Rimz), Mitchell (Mitchy Man), Harrison (Brother Bear)

Dear Sir

Dear Sir in tight, small, yellow sophie shorts,
I respect your self expression via your work-out out fit. However, it makes me uncomfortable that your shorts are so vibrant, and also shorter than my own. When paired with your black tank top, I will agree you would make most Tech fans very happy and you slightly remind me of a chubby bumble bee. However, us being in a class like Body Pump where there is movement and stretching involved, your outfit tends to make me slightly nervous. Also, yellow shows sweat stains debatably worse than grey....

I fear that if there was an "incident" it would be something I would possibly need therapy for later; therapy I can't afford at the moment.

I also fear, that your shorts will be something I would have to tell my future husband about as a part of my "past".

I fear that you would show up to Yoga in this outfit, and in that case, I could run crying from the room.

I fear that the other men in our class will think "What a great idea! Sophie Shorts!" and that trend will catch on and then I will have to Body Pump with a blind fold on. Perhaps it would be yellow so that I would match everyone else.

These are my thoughts. Know that I write this letter in utter and complete respect....and also fear, as stated above. Please take my concerns into consideration the next time you select your Body Pump shorts.

Sincerely,
Monday Night Body Pump Class Attendee

Yoga

So many people think yoga is a peaceful, spiritual experience. These are my thoughts during yoga class and why I do not get closer to the Lord during this time:

How many downward dogs are we going to do?

Chataranga down to upward dog....chataranga to downward dog.....what is this a dance move??

This feels inappropriate...and probably looks inappropriate

Man the guys next to me are sweating a lot...

Should I be sweating?

Why am I not sweating?

I cannot physically do this position...my legs was not meant to bend this way!!

Oh no the instructor is coming over to correct my form!

This hurts!

No Chuck, that didn't feel good...please put my hips back where they belonged!!

My mat is too close to Jamie's.

If she falls over, she's going to sit on my head.

Hope she doesn't have indigestion.

Hope I don't have indigestion!

Yes I will attempt the headstand position!! Now this I can do!

Oh I can't do this!!

Whops...my shirt is falling down over my head...this is inappropriate.

Wait, every guy here is gay. Never mind.

Ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch

Jamie looks hilarious.

*giggles

I look hilarious.

*giggles.

Pretty sure our instructor does not appreciate the humor we find in Bird of Paradise.

Namaste.

Unfailing Love

What would happen if you knew you were truly and deeply loved? Not liked, not tolerated, not forced; but out of choice, no strings attached, head over heals, deeply loved.
You'd walk with confidence. You'd live freely knowing that there was someone who intimately knew you and all your hang ups and loved you in spite of them.
There was nothing you could do to change that love. Nothing you could do or say to make them love you more or less.
It was an unselfish love. Love expecting nothing in return. Love with no conditions. That kind of love is powerful. That love protects. That kind of love would want only good things for you.
I have never loved like this. I will try over and over, but my imperfect human nature will foul me up every time.
We've all heard this before. That's only a love the Lord can have for us. If I had a quarter for every time I heard "God loves you" growing up....well, I would never work again. We even had a catchy song to help us remember:
Jesus loves me this I know.

But yesterday I realized...I know, but does that mean I believe it? Truly believe? Truly trust that?
My hairstylist said something super profound this week to me, I don't think he realized how hard it really hit me. We were talking about listening to the Lord and he said, "You can listen to someone but not really hear them. Listening and hearing are two different things."
So is knowing and believing.
I KNOW 6 cups of coffee isn't good for me...but I obviously don't believe it because I still drink close to 5 daily.
I KNOW too much sun can give you cancer...but I don't truly believe that or I'd wear higher SPF than 15.
I BELIEVE drugs are bad....I don't do them.
I BELIEVE exercise is necessary to stay healthy.....so I run.

I KNOW God loves me.....but I must not believe it fully or the way I live my life would reflect that totally different.

On the drive home yesterday, Lord was just revealing to me why I struggle in that area. It's a holy love...and unfailing love...and my simple human mind cannot grasp a love without mess ups or I'm sorry...or pain. We've all been hurt by people who love us. We're human.
Read in Psalms, and almost every time it talks about God's love for us the word "unfailing" comes before it. Unfailing by definition means: everlasting, inexhaustible, infallible. not liable to fail.

I realize I live my life thinking God's love will fail for me. Eventually I'll exhaust Him enough...screw up too much....etc etc and it will change how He loves me.
Heard Him say "If you simply understood the depth of my love for you, you would live so much more free"
There's so much rest in that kind of love. No need to worry, someone who loves me more than anything is sovereign and in control. He wants good things for me. He has good works planned for those that love him. Because of His love for me, I can love others without expecting or needing anything from them. Believing and accepting that kind of love and really walking in that would result in a life so poured out. How much more could he do through me if I truly understood His heart and desire for me?
My job: Receive this love. believe this love. return His love...and my favorite part: rest in this love which results in living/sharing/pouring out freely into others...

Benediction by Jimmy Needham always reminds me of this, the ultimate act of love:
"Hanging out for 6 hours. Marred beyond recognition
In complete submission to his fathers will still
A proclamation was made,
Louder than the loudest temptation
with more beauty than all his creation
more eternal than eternity
more angelic than the heavenlies.
It. is. Done.
You were bought with blood.
Accept and rejoice for freedom has come."