2 minute reviews

May 18th, 2012

Orphans of the Living by Jennifer Toth
31 of 50

Orphans of the Living is another book I would categorize as both a great resource and bitterly painful to read. The quote “Orphans of the Living” is a reference to those children living in the foster care system. The book tells the stories of children who have aged out of the foster care system, with the details pulled from their actual case files. It is rough reading, and a real reminder that there are children being wounded in the foster care system…it is a broken system. While each story had its own sadness and heaviness, in each I remembered an amazing thing about God…he’s a healer of the broken hearted. Each of these children had a common denominator, they were never exposed to a person who genuinely believed God’s word and shared it with them (or at least this portion of their story was never told). I have to hold on hope that the hurt children coming to us will have that advantage. Overall it was good to hear the perspective of the children. While I already knew not to lock children in the trunks of cars, there were some good reminders, like don’t speak unkindly about the biological family and help them find something something that makes them feel excellent and talented, treat them with patience and kindness. The book itself was brutal and I would strongly discourage any non-foster parents from reading it, basically it’s worst case scenario not just for foster care but for life.

 

The Spellman Files by Lisa Lutz
32 of 50

From the opening chapter of The Spellman Files I was hooked. The story begins with Isabel Spellman in a high speed chase. Realizing her attempt to escape is futile, she finally gives up and turns herself in…to her parents. The Spellmans are a family of Private Investigators, their daughter Isabel has recently turned from a life of trouble making to join the family business. Isabel’s keen detective skills and above average suspiciousness land her in trouble over and over again, especially when it comes to personal relationships. In a family where spying, bugging, and borderline stalking are the norm it’s no surprise when Isabel can’t make a relationship work. The Spellman Files was a fun read, filled with humor and a pinch of mystery.

 

The Curse of the Spellmans by Lisa Lutz
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In The Curse of the Spellmans, though two years have passed, Isabel hasn’t changed. She still investigates her boyfriends, she still spends entirely too much time at the local bar, she’s still obsessed with answering any and all mysteries, and drawing unfortunate and completely wrong conclusions. The best part of this second installment were the hilarious exchanges between the youngest Spellman, 15 year old Rae, and her unwitting “best friend” 44 year old Officer Henry Stone. The plot was somewhat more predictable than The Spellman Files, even still I loved the antics between the Spellmans. Overall, I really loved them both.

The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley
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So, I’m going to level with you. I chose this book based solely on the title and cover art. I have known since kindergarten not to judge books by their covers, but this one had my interest peaked before I turned a single page. Amateur scientist, 11 year old Flavia de Luce has an unfortunate meeting with a dying man in her garden who whispers his final word “Vale.” When her father is suspected and arrested for his murder Flavia turns her scientific prowess to prove his innocence. A thoroughly entertaining story, I can not wait to read the rest of the series.

 How about you? What are YOU reading? Any suggestions for my reading list?

 

awkward & awesome thursday

May 17th, 2012

awesome- after weeks of writers block, finally being able to finish a blog post
awesomer- getting loads of sweet comments and encouragement about that post
awkward- being so busy for the past week I haven’t had time to write another post…whoops

awesome- Hubby taking a day to got to Atlanta and compete in the Nokia’s Ready.Set () {Code} Challenge
awesomer- Hubby winning first place!!
awesomest- Hubby giving me his prize money as a thank you for being supportive…seriously…the awesomest hubby of all time!

awkward conversation with outspoken lady at church:
lady: did you cut your hair?
me: yes!
lady: I like it, it’s much more age appropriate than your last hair style.
me: (slack jawed) um…thanks…I guess…

awesome- luncheon to thank the volunteers at the school where I occasionally volunteer
awkward- being the only person under 40
awkwarder- sitting at a table full of outspoken black women in their 70′s
awkwardest- one of the ladies turned to me and said “honey, you got that good white girl hair”
awesomest- apparently I have good hair…I take my compliments where I can get them!

awesome- conversation with hubby about replacing our torn up basement floor
awkward- coming home and discovering hubby tearing up said floor
awkwarder- only after tearing up the floor realizing that the materials to replace it wouldn’t be available for 2 weeks
awesomer- flooring has arrived!
awkwardest- poor Adam has been laying floor every night until midnight for the last week!
awesomest- the new flooring is really nice! Now to figure out how to keep the dogs from destroying this floor.

awesome- my beautiful cousin is getting married next weekend
awesomer- my whole family is adding a few days to their trip to come and stay with us before the wedding
awkward- That means 8 adults, 5 children and 2 dogs under one roof
awesomest- perhaps we’ll FINALLY get that family picture!

what has been awkward and awesome in YOUR week?

 

wordless wednesday

May 9th, 2012

“When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; What is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him? For thou hast made him a little lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with glory and honour.”
Psalm 8:3-5

Sunday Sweets: Football, Chihuahua’s on parade, Darth Vader, Nacho Libre, and Italian Ice

May 6th, 2012

Over the past several months Hubby and I have been cultivating our first real couple friendship. With these friends we have broken bread, sipped coffee, and as of yesterday, attended our very first Chattanooga Football Club game. I have never been a fan of professional sports, or sports in general, however, I AM a fan of eating horribly fattening food while watching other people exercise.*

Because our first CFC match was on May 5th we were met with a myriad of culturally offensive stereo types in honor of Cinco de Mayo. Chihuahua races and costume competitions, Nacho Libre style wrestling masks, sombrero’s as far as the eye could see. Apparently CFC fans look for any and every opportunity to dress up…enter the Chattahooligans. Since I was oblivious to the CFC I was also unaware of their insane fan base in the form of the Chattahooligans whose parade is the opening act to the game. Marching through the stadium pounding on drums, cowbells, and playing those annoying african bee horns, they danced and shouted their way over to their section. Throughout the game their cheers and jeers had me captivated. Led by Darth Vader and what appeared to be a train conductor or the monopoly guy (perhaps some kind of chattanooga choo choo connection?), the Chattahooligans look somewhat like the land of misfit toys**. To the chagrin of our football fanatic friends I spent the majority of the game obsessed with the Chattahooligans, wondering if I could orchastrate some kind of intervention. By the end of the match I was ready to sign up, their enthusiasm was infectious, even after the CFC’s 0-1 loss they were still banging away on their cowbells cheering on the home team.

{photo credit}

Here are my football*** observations. First, the rules, like most sports were incoherent gibberish to me. Even after having “off sides” explained to me 5 times I still don’t quite get it, something about not going past the line of defense…maybe…am I close? The game doesn’t seem like it would be terribly violent, and yet somehow I found myself cringing in horror at least a dozen times. Also, and this is a key point, getting kicked in the face by cleats will not excuse you from a game…as our friend shouted to the player “play through the pain” is the motto of soccer…whoops…I mean football. I guess there’s some kind of rule if you leave the game you can’t come back in, so when someone exited the field is was due to serious injury. Finally, the person on the field I was most impressed with was the female ref who seemed to be keeping a decent sprint throughout the entire game. Seriously, 90 minute game and that girl hardly slowed down. Give that woman a cookie.

So this is my take on football…an inexpensive date, an evening with wonderful friends, a pretzel and an Italian ice, a wonderful opportunity for people watching, and…yes…a game****…that makes life pretty darn sweet.

*Just ask my former roommate who I used to watch doing exercise videos while eating raw cookie dough…I used to wonder why she and I weren’t friends when we lived together…I get it now. 

**Adam’s comment was “I didn’t know there was a Comic Con Convention in Chattanooga”

***I learned quickly the most offensive word at a football match is calling the game Soccer. When the announcer accidentally said it there was an audible reaction by all the fans surrounding us. 

****Adam loved it so much we’re going back tomorrow for the first ever professional football match in Chattanooga. 

 

when the words won’t come

May 5th, 2012

I have over the past several weeks sat down to write a post, any post, starting several, finishing none. It was as though my words wouldn’t come. I’ve had bouts of writers block since beginning my blog, but it never concerned me. I don’t know anyone who is able to be creative or write (or at least write meaningfully) on demand all the time. But this was the first time that I knew EXACTLY what I wanted to say, and for some reason I couldn’t get the words out. I was blocked, bolted, and locked down.

I have always had difficulty expressing emotions, well any emotion other than anger. When I was younger literally every negative emotion was filtered down into anger…tired, depressed, frustrated, sad, worried, hungry…they all came out in temper flares and snide sarcastic remarks. As an adult I have learned to express my emotions in a slightly more healthy way, but still there is a disconnect between when I start feeling something and when I fully understand why I am feeling it.

So when my writers block first began I basically ignored it, figuring that eventually, given enough time it would resolve itself. We’ll call this strategy “denial.” After several frustrating sessions that felt vaguely like slamming my head into a concrete wall, I finally faced it. Writers block is (much like my anger flare ups) a symptom that feelings are clogging up the pipes. Basically, my thought was this…something is bothering me…I just didn’t know what.

Then it happened, I stumbled across a blog post talking about National Infertility Awareness week. It reminded me of a little part of me that has been hurting. The closer we get to foster care, the more it dawns on me…we aren’t taking the path I had imagined. As I turn the room I planned to have as a nursery into a child’s bedroom, as I plan a “shower” with my dear girlfriends, as I read parenting books dealing with hurt children, as we wait and wait for a phone call telling us we’ll be parents that old familiar wound begins to ache. It seems so selfish to feel grief over these little things, things I was never promised and yet hoped for. I am so blessed, how can I still feel this sorrow? Even though I KNEW foster care would never heal this desire for pregnancy, I had deceived myself into believing that it could dull and perhaps even silence the ache.

Rather than trying to convince myself that I shouldn’t* be hurting, I decided to admit, even though it embarrasses me, I still wish we could take the “normal” path. The last 6 years have been a series of blessings wrapped up in grief. Gods goodness extended toward us in not giving us the a + b = c path to parenting. Trusting his timing, his plan, his desire for our family. I don’t want to diminish my excitement and joy for the future, I really can not wait to meet and love the children God will bring into our home, but in the smallest corner of my heart the desire still resides. Hope remains.

There are times I am exceptionally grateful for a partner who sees the world completely different than I do. While I saw these griefs as a funeral procession, accepting the death of hope, Adam saw them entirely different. He told me that hope is a good thing, I don’t need to kill my hope in order live with joy. Instead I need to keep hope in its proper place, not allowing it to become a demand or an idol.

The grief remains, but it doesn’t grip me quite the same. Even being able to say the words out loud, to connect feeling with understanding, it seems to have freed me. It’s as though the clouds have cleared away, the hurt has been quieted, and the words have returned.

*I believe should is a dirty word. It hangs on unrealistic expectations and guilt. 

wordless wednesday

April 11th, 2012

Each little flow’r that opens,
Each little bird that sings,
He made their glowing colors,
He made their tiny wings.

All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful:
The Lord God made them all. 

-Cecil F. Alexander

two minute reviews

April 9th, 2012

27 of 50
Choosing to SEE by Mary Beth Chapman

The heartbreaking story of Mary Beth Chapman’s loss of her 5 year old daughter Maria in a tragic accident. Though the story was all over the news, and I saw the Chapman family on Larry King it was quite different hearing a grieving mother’s point of view. Throughout the book she is honest and direct, she doesn’t attempt to hide her failings, rather, she shows the ugliness of grief and Christ’s redemptive power through even the most horrifying of trials.

28 of 50
Almost Home by Philip Gulley 

Back in Harmony we find pastor Sam Gardner at his wits end with the congregation of Harmony Friends Meeting. After his father suffers a heart attack Sam takes some time off to care for him. During his absence the church replaces him with the seminary student, Krista Riley, who unwittingly stirs up trouble and a church split in just a few months. After reading the whole “Home to Harmony” series I was really disappointed with this conclusion to the series. Perhaps because it is about a pastor at his wits end as his congregation seems to be falling apart (hitting a little too close to home in our current church drama). While the book touched on some heavy serious doctrinal issues, it failed to actually address them. In the course of the story the people addressing doctrine were the congregation’s craziest members, doing it in the craziest possible manner. Almost Home contained the same small town hilarity of its predecessors, without their charm and heart. Instead of homespun tales from the quakers of Harmony it felt like thinly veiled social commentary.

29 of 50
The Eyre Affair by Jasper Fforde

Literary Tech agent Thursday Next lives in the world of literary crime, where people can travel from reality into the world of manuscripts, her father can freeze time, and it is up to her to catch the nefarious super villain, Mycroft, who has kidnapped her Aunt and Uncle. If all that sounds confusing..well…it is! While I love love love Jasper Fforde I had a very difficult time following The Eyre Affair. Perhaps because I don’t have a degree in obscure Elizabethan literature (there were MANY literary references that left me puzzled). The characters were not so vivid and engaging as The Big Over Easy. The plot was really difficult to follow. Even as an avid and speedy reader it took me nearly 6 months to finish. I just couldn’t buy into the world of The Eyre Affair.

 

30 of 50
Girl meets God by Lauren F. Winner

(from the back cover of the book) “The child of a Jewish father and a lapsed Southern Baptist mother, Lauren F. Winner chose to become an Orthadox Jew. But even as she was observing Sabbath rituals and studying Jewish law, Lauren was increasingly drawn to Christianity. Courageously leaving what she loved, she eventually converted. In Girl Meets God, this appealing woman takes us through a year in her Christian life as she atempts to reconcile both sides of her religious identity.”

I don’t know that I could summarize the book any better than that. The back cover drew me in. I love conversion stories, to me it’s like asking a married couple how they met. Hearing the twists and turns of how God brings his children to him…it’s beautiful. In the case of Lauren Winner and Girl Meets God I found myself both REALLY loving and REALLY hating what I was reading. As she slowly walks through the year that she left her beloved Jewish heritage (along with the friends and community she had built there), and began to seek after Christ you can feel her sincerity and longing for what is true. This is what I loved, seeing God’s complete commitment to bringing the lost to himself, making them his children, offering them the free gift of salvation. What I loathed was how after being liberated  from bondage of legalism, she put herself back under that burden as a Christian. I doubt she would recognize the law that she is writing for herself as a christian, but throughout her story I found myself shouting inwardly…BUT YOU’RE FREE…you don’t need to DO all this to have peace with God! In the end I was delighted by her journey towards Jesus, but disheartened at the path she followed soon after.

What was YOUR take on these books?
What are you reading right now?
Any book suggestions? 

friendship

April 4th, 2012

“Iron sharpeneth iron; so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend.” Proverbs 27:17 

Yesterday it hit me. I have a wonderful group of friends. Seriously, the loveliest ladies you will ever meet. They are sweet, fun, they love Jesus, and for some reason that escapes me…they like me too. For YEARS living in the south felt a bit like coming to a party uninvited. Though I searched high and low I couldn’t seem to find community. I longed for connection, but all I could find was superficiality and disinterest. I didn’t understand the culture, and I felt completely isolated.

Then it happened. I made a connection. One friendship opened the door. Suddenly I had a group of friends. And slowly I began to realize the thing standing in the way of me making friends all these years…was me.

The problem was, I had an iron clad definition of what friendship should look like. My definition was mostly selfish, focused solely on fulfilling my needs. My desire for friends was DEEPLY rooted in my need for quality time and words of affirmation, things my husband has always struggled to give me, and, in the past, I had used friends as proxies to fill. If my girlfriends weren’t spending time with me one on one, sharing their deepest inner most thoughts (all while telling me they’re glad I’m their friend), then the relationship was “shallow” and not worth my time.

My other major hinderance to friendship is what I like to call “awkward 12 year old syndrome.” That feeling that I don’t quite belong, that I don’t fit, that maybe no one actually wants me here, that I am on the outside. For years, even though I was involved in activities and surrounded by people, I found myself not feeling a part of things simply because I didn’t believe they were actually interested in being my friends. I saw myself as undesirable, I constantly questioned if people were truly interested in friendship, or if I was overreaching, inserting myself where I didn’t belong.

I have learned (quite painfully) that feelings are not always true. A handful of times when I’ve actually been brave enough to admit I was feeling this way I have garnered two responses, either the women around me have laughed…literally laughed out loud because they can not comprehend why in the world I would feel on the outside. Or they began to ask what they had done to make me feel this way, making me realize they had done nothing. They were welcoming, kind, open, it was me…I was choosing to believe I was unwelcome based on nothing more than my own insecurity.

When that awkward voice starts filling my head with lies about these friends or myself that I have two choices, I can believe what I feel or I can believe what I know. Believing what I feel really says awful things about these women, things they don’t deserve. To believe the things I feel would make them catty and cruel, which they are not. I know them to be lovely and honest, and most importantly lovers of God. My feelings are lies, and when I recognize them as such it liberates me. It allows me to be, to partake, and (most importantly) to focus on them rather than myself.

This week I sat down with a gaggle of the sweetest women you could ever meet. I met with them over coffee, through bible study, in their living rooms, over the phone, and over facebook. We talked about everything from our favorite tv shows to the depth of Christ’s sacrifice at Calvary. We shared big and little, failures and victories, hurts and healings. We shared our hearts.

I shudder to think sometimes where I would be without this community, especially in the coming months. Their prayers, kind words, and encouragement are a force that keep me moving forward. Some I see or speak to almost daily, some I hardly see, but there is an underlying truth to each relationship…they are my friends. A gift I don’t deserve and a blessing I can not thank God for enough.

April Goals

April 3rd, 2012

A few months ago I read this post by Carrie at Carrie’s Busy Nothings about getting organized. It spoke to a long standing battle in our home. It seems no matter how hard I fight, the clutter of our house is taking over. I spend most of my time managing chaos, shuffling piles, never truly getting things in order. The problem is that my organization bug is cyclical. Ever few months I lose my mind and purge purge purge, try to get a system in place, then I get lax and allow things to get cluttered again. It’s a vicious cycle. In light of our pending placement I’m feeling the urge to get it together…to be more organized…to make our home well run. I’ve decided to set a few manageable goals to help get me on the path to organization, each week I’ll break my goals into smaller bits, making them more manageable, and perhaps finishing them. Here are my goals for April:

1. Sell or give away the plethora of unused things cluttering my house

2. Finish the kid’s room

3. Spring clean the house

4. Purge and Organize the house

5. Finish my decorating projects

Since those goals are rather overwhelming on their face, I am breaking them down and focusing in on finishing these small pieces of the puzzle:

1. List the Xbox on Ebay, the tanning bed (left by the previous owner of our house) on Craigslist, and the water heater on freecycle

2. Move the bed frame into the kids room and the queen bed down stairs

3. Spring clean the bathrooms

4. Purge and Organize my office

5. Hang the decorative plates in the kitchen

It’s a start, hopefully between blog accountability and list making I can discover a way to get my life, mind, and home a little more organized.

How about you? What are your goals for April? How do you get organized?

the delta queen and the anniversary that will live in infamy

March 27th, 2012

Back in September I purchased a groupon deal for 1/2 off dinner on the Delta Queen, a hotel/boat on the river front. I had fond memories of sneaking on to the Delta Queen with Molly a few years back. I thought it might be a fun place for Adam and I to celebrate our 6th wedding anniversary…little did I know this would be the anniversary that would live in infamy.

There were some clues along the way that dinner on the Delta Queen was going to be…um…memorable. When we were the youngest in the dining hall by a good 30 years. When we realized that we were vastly overdressed (at least compared to the people who wore sweat pants and Simpson’s slogan t-shirts). When the waitress told us that she usually didn’t wait tables, that she was the hostess, but they were short staffed and then we didn’t see her for another 1o minutes. When the entertainment for the evening, Banjo Bob, began playing “House of the Rising Sun.”* When the menu only contained 12 total items, including the appetizers and desserts. When our waitress couldn’t remember our drink order of 2 waters. Oh so many clues. This was not the anniversary dinner I had envisioned.

The beauty of being married to your friend is that even when things go disastrously wrong you have someone there to laugh and enjoy yourself with. Adam should have had a microphone and a brick wall behind him, he was hilarious the whole evening. I can’t remember all of his quips, but my favorite was when he referred to the Delta Queen as the homeless cruise ship, because it lived under a bridge. Sure, it wasn’t the elegant evening I had planned for, instead it was a night of making jokes, goofing around, and remembering how lucky I am to be married to my best friend. We laughed our way through the meal (which was, as you can imagine, not very good). We quickly abandoned ship, getting dessert at one of our favorite places, Rembrandts. We drank cappuccino and talked about our past and our future. We held hands and walked through the sculpture garden. We thanked God for another year together, and a memorable anniversary.

*It may sound prudish but hearing a song about a man’s life ending in ruin is not exactly what I would call mood music.