Twelve

Dear Olivia,

Last night, when you went to sleep, you were eleven. This morning, when you woke up, an anniversary was marked. A moment in time where the earth stopped, twelve years ago, and the whole world changed. We will never be the same. I remember the moment I became somebody's sister, your sister, and the doctor held you up in the air, your gooey, slimy, pink, little self, and announced your arrival to the world. And suddenly, our 47 year old mother had just performed a miracle, and I became a sister, and Daddy held his own little, pink, baby, and you totally captured our hearts. I don't remember all of the specific dates of the milestones of your infancy. I do remember that the sibling I had always hoped for changed everything.
You cried at night, and slept during the day, and ate the weirdest stuff. You liked to eat butter, straight up, spoonfuls at a time. You were absolutely obsessed with little orphan Annie. Maybe you could explain to me why you needed to watch that movie 42 times a day? You sang Britney Spears songs on the coffee table. You snuck into my room while I was at school and poured nail polish all over my carpet. You went through a phase where you labeled everything in marker, like my "chrash can," in Sharpie, for instance. Thanks for that, by the way. You loved pooh. And pooing. You owe me at least 3493 dirty diaper changes on your future neices and nephews, just so you know. During your Mulan phase, you put your beautiful hair in a pony tail on the top of your head and cut it off (maybe you were trying to be a samurai or something?). You wore princess dresses for bed, and around the house, and to the grocery store and the park and Home Depot.

Then, somewhere along the line, my little, baby, sister suddenly became a person. A walking, talking, person, with gifts and ideas and the best sense of humor i've ever seen. You started making movies that have captivated everyone I know. On more than one occasion, someone has come up to me and told me that they watch your movies when they are having a bad day and it makes their day much better. I agree, you could make any bad day good. Youre a little spitfire now, who is quick on her feet and able to take on any one. You are resilient and capable and determined and brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.

You are beautiful, even during your "awkward phase,"and dang girl, you can shake it. You can hold your own in a conversation with people who are in college, and sometimes I think my friends would rather hang out with you than me. I don't blame them. You are way funnier than I could ever be. You are eager to learn about God's love and quick to express it. And you are so, so, loved. Being in middle school is hard, really hard, and you are continuing to approach it with grace and charisma. I am so proud of who you are. And who you will become. Your attitude towards life is contagious. Hold onto your child-like faith as you continue to take on the world. Seek God. Ask Questions. Be yourself.
My little air-fry, le cremeee, liver, boo, olive, peanut, cheeseburger, sibling, you are an absolute dream come true.
Happy twelfth birthday.
I love you.

Als

Not sick of you yet.

My longest relationship before I married Omar was eleven months, and I was in tenth grade.
I dated other guys, but there was always a period of three or four months in the middle of our relationship where I had broken up with them because I was bored, dated someone else, gotten bored, gotten back together with them, only to get bored and break up with them again.
I have the attention span of a gnat, and thought that my life's purpose was be to be a girl who was gifted in perpetually falling in love, but not staying there.
Part of this can be attributed to my ridiculously high expectations, which were humanly impossible to meet for any substantial amount of time, so when I would meet a guy that I liked, I would pursue him relentlessly, manipulate him into falling in love with me, expect him to buy me flowers daily and take me on exotic dates and refrain from doing the slightest thing that would make me uninterested, and break up with him anyway.
It was pathetic, and is a period of my life that I am totally ashamed of. This part of my life left me with a conclusion at nineteen years old: I am never going to have the ability to love someone unconditionally.
I gave alot of credit to my diagnosis of Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, and left it at that. I don't know what my plan was, but in the depths of my heart I assumed I would just flutter from honeymoon period to honeymoon period, and bask in the glory of flowers and candy and thoughtful gifts and poems and absolute undying devotion that usually lasted around four months and in the long run left alot of people really messed up, including myself.
Then he happened.
And I dont give him all the credit for tethering my wild heart. In fact, most of the credit is due to the One who created my heart in the first place, guided it through my journey of looking for fulfillment in a million other places, patiently restructured my beliefs about what love is, and brought into my life a man who demanded to be loved unconditionally and who was able to keep my attention.
So, here we are. Almost three years later. Three years that have passed in a blink of an eye, and how was it so easy? I have been reflecting on this alot lately, and have come to very few conclusions. I think its safe to assume that the only way to explain how I have stayed faithfully and completely enamored with this man, is that he is the only man I was created to feel that way towards. That a combination of the way God has worked on my heart, and the exact mixture of the elements of Omars character and the way he playfully and intentionally holds my heart, and is not only the man of all of my wildest dreams, but is truly my very best friend, somehow completes the puzzle and breaks the cycle and naturally just works. I could do this for at least another three, or three thousand, years. Easily.

2005

I was a tragic and emotional 18 year old. Prepare to LOL.

These blog entries were written in the spring of 2005:

2005-04-18

I remember liking the blue of his eyes more than the sky, 

and I still do, but only when he wears red and only on days 

that end the way this one did. Actually, I only love his 

eyes half the time, because they are warm and inviting and 

they love me more than he does. The other half the time 

they are cold and make me feel like im being looked at by a 

complete stranger. Today they loved me.

2005-04-15

I want more out of life. I want funyuns, and pretty 

dresses, and i want to open my mouth really wide when its 

full of food, i want to spin in circles until i feel like 

im going to puke, and jump on my bed to "material girl" by 

madonna, i want minute maid squeeze bars that jon used to 

bring me whenever i begged him to, i want to worship with 

my knees in sand (and not just beach sand, real sand like 

the kind you find in morocco), i want to lay on a float in 

the pool and read classic literature-something really 

disturbing too like Brave New World or Lolita, also i want 

more things in my life that are green- i love the color 

green and dont really get enough of it.

Oh, and by the way, Im a prophet:

2005-04-05

I want someone to braid my hair right now, but i want my 

hair too be much longer. I've always pictured myself 

getting married with long hair and not wearing it up 

because thats too cliche...I also think i would like to be 

a hippie minus the drugs. I'll work on that.

If something looks like love, sounds like love, and feels 

like love...its probably not orange soda.

My thought processes are a little off tonight. 

2005-05-29

i realized today that i crave people. not just any people. 

i crave people that i feel like i can never satisfy. i 

abandon people that i can please and fill their void with 

people that always force me to try harder, to go the extra 

mile. the moment i feel like im losing someone, like im not 

enough for them anymore, a little light starts blinking in 

my head and im pushed into overdrive. suddenly i panic, and 

my fear of abandonment takes over, and i become 

superme...this extended, overexagerated, exhausting version 

of myself. i think i search for people that are empty and 

somehow try to fill them with myself, and then im empty and 

i cant figure out why. also, i am not enough for these 

people, thats what makes them so appealing- i'll never 

satisfy them...so im left empty and they are left wanting 

more and i have nothing more to give and then i feel 

defeated, like ive lost a game but really i was the only 

one playing the game in the FIRST place. 

I think i give my life to God and then take it back at 

least once a day. I really need to get that checked out.

I knew that keeping a blog for the last 6 years would come back to haunt me. I wonder if ill post blog entries from 2009 a few years from now and wonder what the hell went on in my brain.
As Becca Call once (34234 times) said, "Ohmygosh. That is so embarrassing."

To write love on her arms

"To Write Love on Her Arms began in Orlando, FL in February 2006 as a (written) story, the true story of five days spent with a friend who was denied entry into a drug treatment center. The story was a look at those five days, and the t-shirts were printed and sold initially as a way to pay for our friend's treatment.

The vision is that we actually believe these things…

You were created to love and be loved. You were meant to live life in relationship with other people, to know and be known. You need to know that your story is important and that you're part of a bigger story. You need to know that your life matters.

We live in a difficult world, a broken world. My friend Byron is very smart - he says that life is hard for most people most of the time. We believe that everyone can relate to pain, that all of us live with questions, and all of us get stuck in moments. You need to know that you're not alone in the places you feel stuck.

We all wake to the human condition. We wake to mystery and beauty but also to tragedy and loss. Millions of people live with problems of pain. Millions of homes are filled with questions – moments and seasons and cycles that come as thieves and aim to stay. We know that pain is very real. It is our privilege to suggest that hope is real, and that help is real.

You need to know that rescue is possible, that freedom is possible, that God is still in the business of redemption. We're seeing it happen. We're seeing lives change as people get the help they need. People sitting across from a counselor for the first time. People stepping into treatment. In desperate moments, people calling a suicide hotline. We know that the first step to recovery is the hardest to take. We want to say here that it's worth it, that your life is worth fighting for, that it's possible to change.

Beyond treatment, we believe that community is essential, that people need other people, that we were never meant to do life alone.

The vision is that community and hope and help would replace secrets and silence.

The vision is people putting down guns and blades and bottles.

The vision is that we can reduce the suicide rate in America and around the world.

The vision is that we would learn what it means to love our friends, and that we would love ourselves enough to get the help we need.

The vision is better endings. The vision is the restoration of broken families and broken relationships. The vision is people finding life, finding freedom, finding love. The vision is graduation, a Super Bowl, a wedding, a child, a sunrise. The vision is people becoming incredible parents, people breaking cycles, making change.

The vision is the possibility that your best days are ahead.

The vision is the possibility that we're more loved than we'll ever know.

The vision is hope, and hope is real.

You are not alone, and this is not the end of your story."

Jamie, the founder of the To Write Love on Her Arms movement, is speaking at Central Christian Church this weekend at 4:30 tonight, 6:00 tonight, 9:00 Sunday morning, 10:20 Sunday Morning, and 11:45 Sunday morning. If you live in Vegas, bring your friends and come check it out.

Crumbs

Yesterday at school I saw a woman walking in the opposite direction from me scattering Pringles crumbs on the side of the grass for the birds. I smiled to myself, and kept walking along the path towards my class. As I walked further I saw more and more crumbs, then I saw birds flying away with entire chips in their mouths. Along the rest of the path there was a frenzy of hungry birds feasting on entire potato chips. Did the woman really pour out an entire can of Pringles to feed the ugly, black, birds that plague the UNLV campus? And why? Crumbs were one thing, a sweet gesture, but an entire can of whole potato chips?

Then, it dawned on me. The same thing that God has been speaking to my heart about for far too long was being played out before my eyes.

I have been giving out crumbs.

I have half-heartedly maintained my relationship with Him and with others. I have put the most important things in my life second, and put the meaningless things first.

I heard a sermon yesterday morning from Flat Irons Church that I had downloaded on my Ipod and listen to when there is a lot of traffic, and basically its come down to this:
I could spend my whole life trying to do more. Experience more. Succeed more. Get better grades and take more classes to graduate faster and fit more into my life.

But God is telling me to stop. Take a time-out. Breathe. Reconnect. Reevaluate.

I've found myself looking forward to the end of things. The next thing coming. I can't wait until this day is over. This month. This semester. College. Can't wait to be pregnant. Until the baby is born. She goes to kindergarten. To college.

How much more am I willing to miss?

I don't want to forget the finer things in life, the things that really matter to me. Like sipping green tea, and immersing myself in books, and writing on the driveway with chalk, or running through sprinklers, or flying kites, or playing scrabble, or blowing bubbles, taking walks and riding bikes and doing all of these things with people I LOVE. Taking time to not just fit people in my schedule, but be there, with them, in ups and downs and in between. I highly doubt that at the end of my life I will be thinking about how I wish I spent more time writing better lesson plans or doing dishes.

The question comes down to this: Based on the pace of life today, the stuff you spend your money on, and the stuff that fills your day planner- what do those things say is most important in your life? What are you counting on to make your life mean something?

Lets navigate through these questions together.
And maybe blow some bubbles and make wishes on dandelions while were at it.

spiritual food

Last Saturday night, Omar, Bob, and I went to take Bob's friend, Slade, to listen to a pianist at a piano bar. Listen is the operative word, because Slade is blind, and has been for his entire life. To be honest, I have never spent any real time with a blind person....or a homeless person. Until now. The past weekend served as a chance for me to see past my inhibitions and misconceptions and into the hearts of some of Gods most treasured children. Rather than give a detailed description of the adventures, which included a challenging and wonderful night with Bob and Slade, and a day with 450 sandwiches, i'll sum it up in pictures. And quotes.

"If someone wants to make a difference or whatever, they should. They shouldn't just keep it inside."
-my darling (almost) 12 year old sister.
"But the needy will not always be forgotten, nor the hope of the afflicted ever perish."
-Psalm 9:18

(the picture says enough, to learn more about my brother, Andrew, click here)


"I would rather be a drunken bum in the streets than a person who thinks of themself as righteous and doesn't take time to love others. If a religion makes you hate people, youve got the wrong religion dude."
- Bob, the musician/homeless man

"We are here with you man. And we are praying. You guys are not in this alone."
-my husband

"Thank you for the food. You done a good job getting us food, and the Lord will bless you, but what we need is spiritual food. Sandwiches waste away, but the Lord can fill us in a way no food ever can. "
-the man in the green beanie

(by the way, I promised this man 20 bibles. If you have any extra bibles lying around, let me know.)

Its so funny what happens to your heart when you love other people.
Jesus has definitely wrecked my life.

Like Shane Claiborne says, "Another world is possible. Another world is already here."

Check this out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ETBMhEzYKU

Somewhere between the altar and the door

I like things that are real and true. I like Jesus, because He is real, and true. And I like this song, because it is real and true, and I feel it. Maybe you do too? We are not alone. You are not alone.


Somewhere between the hot and the cold
Somewhere between the new and the old
Somewhere between who I am and who I used to be
Somewhere in the middle, You'll find me

Somewhere between the wrong and the right
Somewhere between the darkness and the light
Somewhere between who I was and who You're making me
Somewhere in the middle, You'll find me

Just how close can I get, Lord, to my surrender without losing all control

Fearless warriors in a picket fence, reckless
abandon wrapped in common sense
Deep water faith in the shallow end
and we are caught in the middle
With eyes wide open to the differences, the God we want and the God who is
But will we trade our dreams for His?
or are we caught in the middle?

Somewhere between my heart and my hands
Somewhere between my faith and my plans
Somewhere between the safety of the boat and the crashing waves

Somewhere between a whisper and a roar
Somewhere between the altar and the door
Somewhere between contented peace and always wanting more
Somewhere in the middle You'll find me

Just how close can I get, Lord, to my surrender without losing all control?

Lord, I feel You in this place and I know You're by my side
Loving me even on these nights when I'm caught in the middle
-Casting Crowns