Anything But Gracious

"The Lord is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and rich in love." -Psalm 145:8

What does it mean to be gracious?

Being gracious means being gentle, being forgiving, being slow to anger, merciful, and compassionate.  It means cutting the other person some slack.  It means not reacting even if you're justified in doing so.

It means being like God.

I admit, I often want to throw temper tantrums. I want to freak out and melt down and scream and cry and pound on the floor with my fists.  I want to cause a ruckus until I get what I want, you big meanie!

If I did, though, I think my life would look vastly different, and definitely not in a good way.

I'm just going to come out and say it:  my Daddy, God, prevents me from doing a lot of stupid stuff.

A couple Saturdays ago, when I was sitting alone during my lunch break at work, God reminded me of a moment about six months ago when I wanted to throw a temper tantrum the likes of which the world has never seen.  It just kept coming back to me, this moment, like it was yesterday.  I was hurt and angry and upset and I wanted to demand that the car I was in turn itself right around and go back again.  I wanted to pick up my toys and go home and that would be that.  How dare you do this to me?!

I really wanted to.  I almost did, in fact.  But I knew - with God's help, I remember that somehow I knew - that I wasn't supposed to behave that way.  Not now.  Not this time.  I wasn't supposed to throw the temper tantrum.  I literally, no word of a lie, was not able to.  Instead, I had to be gracious.  And with my Lord's very real help, I was.

God reminded me of how that moment, that hour, felt.  I remembered all the feelings of hurt and how I wanted to just throw in the towel right there.  And then He whispered, "Aren't you glad you didn't?"

My breath caught.  Sitting there at one of the little tables they have for us to sit outside and enjoy the sunshine amidst the concrete of the corporate call center where I work, I realized what could have been if I hadn't listened to God.  If He hadn't physically prevented me from throwing the tantrum I wanted to.  How different things would be.  How much I would have missed.  How much of God's will would not have been done.  How much of a tragedy it would have all been.  I honestly nearly cried right there thinking about it.

How much does being gracious really cost you?  Your pride, for a moment?  Is pride really worth it?  Not for my money.  Pride in being indignant, superior, offended...versus being kind, forgiving, and loving?  Being known as gentle rather than tough?  Being real with someone rather than putting up a wall of "protection"?

When I realized how much God had saved me from myself that day six months ago, it was all I could do not to kneel down on the ground right there in the middle of my workday and praise Him.  I probably should have, to be honest.  I did later, when I drove home from work and stopped at my church, kneeling at the altar in humble thankfulness.

I want Daddy to continue to keep me from my temper tantrums.  They don't accomplish anything.  Grace is what moves relationships, ministries, and God's will forward.  And if I'm known as gentle rather than tough, well, that's just fine by me.

Because in my experience, I can't afford to be anything but gracious.

Kerfluffled!

If you didn't already know, I live in North Carolina.  Last night during the primaries, Amendment One was passed.  If you don't know what Amendment One is, you can find it here.

Now, since this is not nor will it ever be a political blog, I am not going to discuss my opinions on Amendment One or how I voted.  That's not the point - because, honestly, my opinions really don't matter.  Amendment One passed and now, regardless of how you voted or what you believe, it's up to us to deal with the myriad results.

However, the passing of this amendment has caused a lot of people, including some very close to me, to become quite upset.  They've got a wild hair.  They're frothed up.  They're kerfluffled.  And that's a feeling I'm very familiar with, and about which God continues to work with me every day.

Being kerfluffled isn't fun.  It's kind of awful.  It's like flapping your arms around in the deep end of a swimming pool when you're trying to get to the other side.  It's posturing and pontificating and wailing and doing everything but what you should be doing in the situation.  Doesn't matter why, or what it's about - your relationships, your work, your ministry, your friends, your family, your state, your country, or even the world and everyone in it - ultimately, being kerfluffled in and of itself does absolutely nothing except make you look silly.

Bottom line: being kerfluffled is getting over-the-top upset about something you have absolutely no control over and expecting that to make some sort of difference.  It won't.  Trust me.  I do it a lot.  And I've spent weeks and months and years flapping my arms around at God wailing and frothing at the mouth while He's been watching me with a divine raised eyebrow waiting for me to tire myself out like a toddler and then just go take a nap and let Him do the work He's been wanting to do all along.

So then, what can we do?  What happens when things aren't working out the way we want or what God told us seems impossible or nothing is going according to plan? Well, here's a bit of what my Lord has been teaching me, if you're interested.  (Keep in mind, God lovingly but firmly beats these into me nearly every waking moment, so I'm telling myself all this just as much, and probably more, as anyone else.)

1. Pray. I could and probably will write a whole blog post (or 100) on just this.  Pray.  We often say, "All we can do now is pray," but prayer is actually the most powerful thing we can do.  It is harnessing the divine power of God, the supreme privilege of doing that which has been given to us as Christians when we pray faithfully and believe our prayers have meaning. And yet we so often overlook it, thinking we can handle things ourselves.  Go to the power source first - it's right there!

"And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests.  With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord's people." -Ephesians 6:18

2. Calm down and trust God.  Quit. Just stop.  No, seriously - sit down and be quiet.  Stop being indignant and angry and riled up.  Tame that wild hair.  You are not a martyr.  You are not the Only Person Who Can Fix It.  In fact, you can't fix it at all - only God can.  Things will go a lot faster if you just let Him.  Stop looking at the problem and start looking at The Solution.

"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit." -Romans 15:13

3. Be an example of Christ.  No one is going to listen to you if you are acting unloving, belligerent, defensive, and immature.  Do you reward a child who is throwing a temper tantrum?  The way to surprise people and to do God's work is and will always be to be an example of Christ.  That means being sacrificial, giving people the benefit of the doubt, and loving unconditionally.  It's really hard - believe me, I know.  But it's what God commands us to do.  What's the alternative?


"But Jesus called them unto him, and said, 'Ye know that the princes of the Gentiles exercise dominion over them, and they that are great exercise authority upon them.  But it shall not be so among you: but whosoever will be great among you, let him be your minister; and whosoever will be chief among you, let him be your servant: even as the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many.'" -Matthew 20:25-28


4. Don't give up.  "Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." -Galatians 6:9, emphasis mine - I couldn't have said it better.


Stop being kerfluffled.  Calm down, pray, trust God, and don't give up - in whatever situation you are facing.  Also, know that you're not alone - with God's help, I am endeavoring to do the very same.

Living Gratefully

"Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." -1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

I haven't been posting much in my dear little blog lately, and for that, I'm sorry.  I have about six posts started, though, so hopefully there will be more reading material here soon!

What I have been doing instead of posting, though, has been incredible.  I've been living - living in the fullness of the incredible blessings God has graciously showered on me in the last eight months or so.  It is an amazing season in my life - one in which God is being glorified in ways I've been praying and believing for since I spent my year in the wilderness with Him in England in 2006.  That year when He took me, molded me, pounded on me, worked in me, softened me, and began what I didn't know would be a five-year process of turning me into Who I Needed To Be for that next step.

I can hardly believe it, but that next step is now.

Ministry.  Partnership.  Art.  Inspiration.  Edification.  Leadership.  Love.  In 2006, God spoke to me about all these things, telling me that in the future He would bring me together with someone who would be a leader in ministry and with whom I would share many passions about art, theater, writing, and faith.  We would work together in active, powerful ways to bring others closer to our Lord - work we couldn't do alone.  One would be strong where the other was weak.  One would be faithful when the other struggled.  He dragged me into that place of isolation to work on me and gave me glimpses of the future in order to help me get through the desert.

Some of the things God told me during that time were, "You can't do it.  I have to do it. Let Me do it,"  "It will be hard, but it will be worth it," and "Your future life is going to look completely different from anything you could ever imagine."


Oh my, but how true that all was.

Seven months ago, I walked into a local coffee shop and met a smiling young man after a week of exchanging long emails and deep thoughts.  That night, we ended up sitting in his car until after 2 in the morning talking about God.  And we've been talking about Him ever since.

Our relationship didn't happen overnight. (That's another story - or several - for another time!)  But it has so clearly been God's will this whole time.  He spoke to both of us individually, many times.  He spoke to us together - and still does, every week when we go to two church services together.  We ended up building our relationship on deep friendship and mutual faith, and the strength of the foundation we have is something I praise God for every day.

Now, I am proud and honored to call him so much more than my boyfriend.  He is my ministry partner, my inspiration, and quite often my spiritual leader.  We are working in ministry together in ways I never dreamed of or thought possible.  We are bringing people together in supportive faith who would never be so otherwise.  With God's help, we are walking out His will side by side.  Even more, I am watching everything that God spoke to me in 2006 become reality.

I wake up every morning praising God for His blessings, and spend every day praying about all that He is doing.  As so often happens in life, things are uncertain right now about our ministry and our future.  If I choose to let myself, I could get completely stymied in fear and not be able to keep going with what I know needs to be done.  It's a real temptation for me - but I know that would not be Respecting the Blessing, or the God who has given it.

So I am choosing to live gratefully.  God deserves praise and honor and glory for everything He is doing.  He also deserves my respect and trust to take care of everything according to His will.  It's not easy for me (though it should be, after more than 20 years of knowing God), but I am choosing to trust Him.  "Chill out, sweetie - just trust Me!" is what He has been saying this whole time.  And that has proven, obviously, to be the best thing indeed.

"God is not a man, that he should lie, nor a son of man, that he should change his mind.  Does he speak and then not act? Does he promise and not fulfill?" -Numbers 23:19

It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true. -Rascal Flatts

Stay tuned - there will be more to come!

Every Day is Easter

The angel said to the women, "Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay." -Matthew 28:5-6

Holy Week is always a busy week for me, but this year it was especially so. I was working. My parents were visiting from Pennsylvania and staying with me and my dog in my apartment for a week - three people and two dogs in my two-bedroom apartment! Just like every year, I directed our church's drama team to put on a Good Friday play to bring to life the story of the crucifixion, so we had rehearsals and of course a church service in the evening on Good Friday. My sister's college touring choir stopped in Raleigh for a performance. My boyfriend met my family for the first time. Also, he and I are two different denominations of Christian, so we went to the sunrise Easter service at my church early this morning and then went to his church's service a few hours later.

Let's just say it was a lot. A wonderful, God-glorifying time, which I wouldn't trade for the whole world, really...but, still, kind of a lot.

And I did what I swore I would never do: I let myself, just for a bit, forget the whole reason we were doing all of this in the first place. I didn't even realize it, but I had.

See, to me, Easter is the ultimate Christian holiday. I know a lot of people make Christmas out to be the biggest, but frankly, a virgin birth pales in comparison to Jesus rising from the dead. I know, ipso facto, grant the premise, He had to be born in order to die...but c'mon. The whole point was for Jesus to be crucified and rise again. Christmas is great, but that's just the exposition of the story. Easter is the climax.

And yet, I'd unknowingly let myself get so busy with church activities and family and work - all blessings! - that I, like so many others do, usually ironically at Christmas - forgot what it was really about.

But then, suddenly, the whirlwind was over. It was around two o'clock this afternoon, after two church services and Easter lunch. My parents had packed up and were headed back to Pennsylvania. My boyfriend, also exhausted, had gone home. I was left alone with my dog for the first time in more than a week...and, inexplicably, I was so lonely I wanted to cry.

"What is wrong with me?" I kept thinking over and over as I held my dog and squeezed her. (She was probably thinking the same thing!)

Then I realized - that's it. That's the whole point. Jesus rose from the dead. He defeated sin and death so we would never have to be alone. Because of His sacrifice - because of His victory! - nothing will ever, again or since, separate us from the love of God.

How awful would it be if there was no Easter? How awful would it be if He had not risen?

But He did. Praise God!

Because He lives...I can face tomorrow, all fear is gone, and I know Who holds the future. And that's what makes it Easter every single day.

The Tough Get Loving

"Human affection is not poured forth vainly, even though it meet no return." -Mary Baker Eddy, "Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures"

The older I get, the more I come to understand how difficult it can be to really get close to someone else. There's a lot at stake: pride, emotions, faith. We're complicated. We're scared. We have issues and baggage and pasts. The truth of the matter is that we're all fragile, instinctively self-protecting creatures who, often despite ourselves, have an irrepressible need for love and relationships.

Otherwise, we'd all be floating around in our own little life-bubbles like some science fiction sitcom gone terribly wrong. Can't you just picture it? "Hi, Susie." "Oh, hi Fred!" "What's going on?" "Oh, nothing. Nothing can hurt me in this bubble!" "I know, isn't it great?!" "Okay, well, I'm gonna go float over here now for awhile." "Okay, see you later!" Cue the fake applause.

See, it doesn't work.

We're made for relationships. We're made to get involved, to get messy, to get our hands in up to our elbows in each other's muck and get deeply invested. When we don't, we're not living the fullest life God intends for us.

But the other, harder truth of the matter is that everyone you really love will, eventually, hurt you in some way. Everyone you really invest in will (probably unintentionally) do something to make you upset or angry or feel unloved or without value. Everyone you give your heart to, in any capacity, will disappoint you somehow. Parents, children, spouses, friends, family, church members, coworkers. It's just a part of being in the world.

As Christians, though, we're in the world, but not of the world...so how does that translate into our relationships?

Over the last few months, many of my friends have come to me to talk, vent, and sometimes cry, hurt and frustrated with other people in their lives. They express their angst with phrases that have often echoed in my own mind and heart. Phrases like, How long do I have to keep waiting? Why aren't I good enough? How much more do I have to give? Is it even worth it? Will the reward ever be worth the risk?

Their experiences - as well as my own - have brought me into a deeper understanding of what love really is, and what God means when he instructs us on how to love. If you needed to describe God with one word, that word would be love. Sure, He's grace and mercy and forgiveness and peace and justice and comfort too, plus much more, but when it comes right down to it, all of that can be summed up in four little letters: l-o-v-e.

Love isn't just a mushy, poofy feeling that makes your stomach flutter or your heart swell. It's not just sweet words or nice compliments or pacification until that twitterpated feeling runs out and you need another dose. Love is a decision. It's devotion. Commitment. Sacrifice. Giving of yourself even when the other person isn't or can't or isn't quite there. Giving the other person the benefit of the doubt. Choosing to say yes to God, and choosing to say to the other person, "You're more important than I am." Giving whatever it is you have in yourself to give, and trusting God with the rest.

Why? Because that's what God does. Don't mistake it - God wants us to love Him just as He loves us. He desires our praise and devotion and adoration and worship, but He doesn't withhold His love from us if we don't give it. He doesn't stop loving us, stop giving of Himself, stop pouring out His blessings, when we're distant or cold or ignore Him - or even worse, when we say we don't believe at all. He never stops loving. He never asks if we're worth it. All the time, He's right there. The moment Jesus gave up His life on the cross was the ultimate demonstration of, "You are more important than I am."

In my own moments of questioning or angst or heartbreak, I've often cried out to God in frustration those same questions I wrote above. I'm scared. It's so risky. Is it really worth it? Over the past few months and years, God has taught me that loving someone is always worth it, because ultimately, that love is from Him. And no matter the outcome, it will bring the other person and me, as well, that much closer to God - the ultimate and only source of love in the first place. When your first source of affection is God's unconditional, unfailing love, the love you get from everyone else is just icing on the cake.

So what happens when, inevitably, your relationships get tough? Well, from what I can tell, when things get tough, the tough get loving.

Peace, Hope, Love, and Abundance

"The Son is the radiance of God's glory and the exact representation of his being, sustaining all things by his powerful word." -Hebrews 1:3

If you're looking for hope, hope is with us

If you're searching for love, love is here

If you hunger for peace, peace is waiting

It is Heaven's gift and it is near.

You're ashamed of your past, yet He wants you

You've refused Him before, still He waits

You're afraid you will fail, but He'll help you

If you only take a step of faith.

Come to all you long for

Come to all you need

Come now and see,

Come receive God's only begotten Son -

Come.

My challenge to you is this: take a step of faith this year and go out on a limb with our Lord, into the life and purpose for which He created you. Ask Him. Listen for what He answers. And then go for it. Step into the center of His will for your life. Live for Him.

"I am come that they may have life, and that they might have it more abundantly." -Jesus, John 10:10

A Flight Risk

"Everything that's worth doing, you're going to want to quit at least once." -my dad

So tell me this: were you ever just going about your business, trusting God with things, hum-diddly-um-dum...and then suddenly something opens up in front of you like a huge gaping maw of potential and your knee-jerk response is "Holy crap!" and all you want to do is turn around and flee as if your life depended on it?

No? Just me?

Up until now, I can't say I've ever really been much of a flight risk to the people in my life. I don't really bail on things. God (seriously, God) has put a tenacity in me causes people to literally have to shove me out and slam the door in my face if they want me out of their lives. And then, usually, I stand outside on the doorstep expectantly until they open it again.

But then, it happened - I found myself smack in the middle of a situation where I was stuck been gleeful excitement and pure, utter terror. I couldn't explain it, but I literally wanted to just run. Run out, get in my car, drive away, and never look back. It was a very new feeling for me.

And why?

Because I just kept thinking, "There's no way I can live up to this. I am SO not good enough." Over and over and over again. "Holy crap, I am SO not good enough!!"

And so, rather than step up and try, I wanted to flee.

But I didn't. For the record, I could have. For what I think was the first time in my life, I wanted to. Oh my gosh, but I wanted to just totally flake out. Sorry, Charlie, but I can't do it. That sounded like a much better idea than having all my shortcomings inevitably thrust under a spotlight - which, if I didn't run, they surely would be sometime in the very near future.

I knew, though, that'd I'd have been in, shall we say, very big cosmic trouble if I ran. See, that would have been pretty much the opposite of Respecting the Blessing. Spitting in God's face. Sneering at His gift. Rolling my eyes at His love towards me.

So I didn't. I stayed. Sometimes I felt like the hand of God was literally pinning me to the chair, but by Heaven, I stayed.

As I thought about it over next few days, suddenly a lot more of my life started to make sense. Why people often push me away or flee. Why people flake out on me. I admit - I often expect a lot. I invest all of myself and, apparently, that makes people feel guilty, like they have to do the same. Well, dang, no wonder they run. That's a lot to ask. Mind you, that's just who I am; I'm not asking anything of anyone else consciously. But now, I got it - because it got real up in that place quick, let me tell you.

The thing is, I am not a confident person. In fact, I'm probably the most insecure person you'll ever meet. (I try to make up for it with enthusiasm and witty comments.) Now, what is insecurity, really, but fear that you're just not good enough? Yep, that's me. I suspect that a lot of other people feel that way as well - we just don't talk about it. It's too deep. It's too much. It's something we don't want to admit to ourselves. So instead, we run. It's easier that way.

If I'm being honest, insecurity is probably my deepest-seeded sin, and one that constantly comes between me and God - and then me and the people I love. It's a maddening, vicious cycle, and I'm my own worst enemy. All the time. God and I, well, we're working on it.

I really wanted to run that day, but I couldn't. I knew it would have been a huge act of disobedience. I knew I couldn't have lived with myself. I would have allowed my own sin to ruin an incredible blessing God had given me - one I've actually been wishing for pretty much my whole life, in fact.

Now, wouldn't that have been a terrible shame?

28 Things*

*Like "27 Dresses", but with less tulle.**

**But probably the same amount of cheesiness....if not more, let's be honest.

So, I turned the big, gulp, 2-9 last week. Climbed into the ride and strapped myself in for the last year of my 20's. The Last Hurrah. The Final Farewell. This is it, people.

I'm now the age of Jane Austen's oldest heroine...which, I suppose, means I have one more year during which to somehow Get It Right. Heaven only knows if that'll happen. Seriously - Heaven. Only. Knows.

But I figure, I must have learned something throughout this past year, right? Goodness, here's hoping. To that end, I decided to make a list. I admit that some of these span slightly further back than a year ago, but not too much - this past year was pretty darn eventful.

And so, in pretty close to chronological order, here are 28 Things I Learned During Year 28.

1. Real smiles are the best ever.

2. Apparently, I act blond sometimes. But shhh - when it makes someone laugh, it's intentional.

3. When God points out someone for me to minister to with a cosmic neon sign, pretending I don't see it is just prolonging the inevitable.

4. My emotions display themselves unashamedly spread-eagled on my face no matter how hard I try to hide them. Every time.

5. It's possibly not a coincidence that it rains every. single. time I step foot onto the campus of Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary. I'm just saying - my hair NEVER looks right at that place!

6. What I dislike in other people often directly correlates with what I dislike about myself.

7. God actually really does know what He's doing. I know, shocker.

8. I sang "It Is Well With My Soul" as a duet with my best friend on Good Friday and it was possibly the purest, most raw form of emotion in art I've ever expressed.

9. Just being me produces far better results than huffing and puffing and striving to be someone else.

10. I got my first paid writing gig this year, writing ad copy for websites. While it was great to be paid to write, and I wouldn't sneeze at doing it again...it kind of felt a little bit what I'd imagine prostitution would feel like. Not that I know. Because I don't. Really! Wait, what was I talking about again?

11. What Any Sane Woman Would Do is never what I do.

12. When God closes a door, He opens...oh, wait, you know that one already? Well, it's totally true.

13. God is not, in fact, turning men celibate to keep me single...although for a brief period this summer, it really felt that way. More on that later. Good story, actually.

14. To get anywhere, I have to give 100%. Not 70%. Not 80%. Not even 90%. Even though I've gotten away with it in the past...no more. Everything God gives me deserves 100% of my effort and commitment.

15. The jackpot is totally, incredibly, fantastically awesome. Every single time, in fact.

16. Every person you really love will make you cry. I often think about how many times I've made God cry. It knocks the wind out of me.

17, When God blesses you, humility and maturity are the best resources. Otherwise, people get bitter. People get bitter anyway, but it's harder to be jealous when the person you're jealous of is gracious. Hopefully.

18. During an agent/customer role-playing game at my corporate call center job training, after hearing me be the "agent," all the men in the training class exclaimed, "Whew! I'm buying whatever you're selling!" That pretty much made my...well, up until now, really. And that was two months ago.

19. Shhh - I'm not a hardcore salesperson. But I am an actress.

20. My favorite thing ever (which I knew before this year, but still) is, once I get to know someone, letting them see a little more who I really am by saying things that shock them. That shocked, incredulous laughter is the best thing ever.

21. Three words: Respect. The. Blessing.

22. I am no longer a Renaissance Faire virgin. But, unsurprisingly, I'll be better prepared and even more, ahem, in character next year.

23. When your pastor calls you Bridget Jones, well, that's pretty much your sign.

24. The fact that so many people I've met over the last few years have opened up to me, confided in me, shared with me, let me pray with them, and have come to me as their spiritual point of contact is at once overwhelmingly humbling and incredibly gratifying. My Lord is so good. All the spiritual bottom-kicking I've taken this last decade is starting to bear some amazing fruit. It's all Him.

25. However, I am not a spiritual Yoda, not by a long shot. I need just as much Godly succor as anyone else. And someone to keep my head on straight...pretty much all the time, in fact.

26. Christian Scientists are all really, really nice people.

27. There is a huge difference between someone for whom you feel like you have to be better and someone because of whom you want to be a better version of yourself.

28. Five words from a fake nun were the biggest cosmic cream-pie I've experienced yet.

That's my wisdom from this year, folks. I hope it spoke to you in the way you needed it to most. Tune in next year as I begin a new decade - and hopefully, I will have learned even more from the incredible things my Lord is about to do in the next 350-odd days left of this one!

Quit Yer Wailing!

My toy poodle does this really annoying thing when I take her in the car with me: whenever I put the car in park and turn the key to shut the engine off, she SHRIEKS and WAILS and YELPS as if she's being brutally murdered. Every. Single. Time.

Why? Well, I can only assume it's because she's afraid I'm going to leave her in the car alone. FOREVER!

Meanwhile, of course, I've never done that. I always jump right out and get her out of the car with me. If I do leave her there, I run into a store for maybe five minutes. She's never alone for long, and she's never in danger. Ever. I've established a pattern and level of trust with her now that she really shouldn't be scared anymore. She knows I'm not going to leave her. She knows I'm always going to either get her out or come right back to her.

And yet still, every time, she yelps and cries and wails.

As I pulled into our parking lot after walking with a friend and turned off the car's ignition to the familiar chorus of her shrieking in fear again tonight, it startled me into realizing...how often do we do that with God?

How often do we shriek and cry and wail and whine at God when we know He'll never leave us or fail us? It hit me with a wave of shame tonight that I do it all the time. I'm doing it now, actually. Wandering around wailing to God, "Daddy! DADDY! Daddy, please! Please don't leave me alone in the car! DADDY! DO YOU HEAR ME?! YOU PUT ME IN THE CAR; DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE HERE! PLEASE!!"

Fact is, He's never left me alone in the car. And if it's felt that way, it's only been for a few minutes. He always comes back. He always comes through. He always knows what He's doing. I'm never really in danger. Ever.

Every time this happens, I say to Lottie, "Shhh, little girl! I would never leave you! Don't you trust me?"

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. -Proverbs 3:5

Um. Yeah. Oops.

I stand in spiritual humility as a direct result of shrieks from my poodle. And there's a sentence I bet you don't read every day.

Holding the Line

So, when I'm not frantically scribbling things in my writing notebook, or flinging myself on the floor wailing at the wide-eyed volunteer actors at my church to "GIVE ME MORE!!", or scheming up my next pratfall to elicit a laugh from someone...I'm sitting in a cubicle at a very large company, using my sweet pixie voice to convince customers to purchase the services the company sells. No, I'm not a telemarketer. Ahem. But yes, indeed, I'm a salesperson.

Yesterday, I was on the phone with a customer who was interested in possibly ordering one of our services. I'd done the work. I'd put in the time. We'd gone over all the pros and cons, all the features and benefits, even what my company's competitors offered. I really believed that from what the customer was telling me he needed, our service was the best fit for him. I'm not peddling junk here. Plus, I made him laugh a few times, which seemingly always helps.

But he was still a little waffly. As they are.

Customer: I still want to think about it a little bit. Can I call back and get you?

Me: Unfortunately, probably not, sir.

Him: But if I buy this, I want to buy it from you!

Me: I appreciate that! I'm sorry.

Him: Hmm. I'm just not sure.

Me: Sir, if you like, I'm happy to hold while you think about it for a minute. I want you to make the best decision.

Him: You can hold on?

Me: Sure! Take your time, I'll be right here.

Him: You're very persistent.

Me: Hopefully in a good way!

Him: *laughs* Yes, in a good way!

Thirty seconds later, he bought the service from me. He even paid upfront - and that hardly ever happens.

Metaphor for life, people. I'm just saying.

A Man with a Plan

"Next to being married, a girl likes to be crossed in love a little now and then." -Mr. Bennet, "Pride and Prejudice"

As I've mentioned before, right now I'm working on being a heroine and waiting for my hero. That is, I'm a (not-quite-thirty-something) Bridget Jones waiting for Mark Darcy to knock on my door and say things like "I like you, very much, just the way you are." Even better - the Harry to my Sally who will finally come running in my direction and declare, "When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible." Or, y'know, his own version of that sentiment. I'm all for creative liberties.

What I'm learning, though, is that the man I'm looking for is going to need to be more than just hanging out - and about God, even more than just about me. The kind of relationship that God has been preparing me for for years is the Real Deal. The purposeful, Christ-centered, really investing, sacrificial, ministry-minded, leading-to-marriage kind of relationship. A partnership to edify the other person and ultimately bring glory to God through our union. And for that, I'm going to need a man who knows what it means to be, well, all of those things - basically, who has a plan. The plan of being obedient to God when He speaks.

As I've personally learned in many a trial-by-fire situation throughout my twenties, that kind of spiritual maturity doesn't come easy. Work has to be done. You have to wander through the wilderness with God to get to the other side - and more than just once or twice.

You can't be Moses without climbing up Mt. Sinai.

You can't be David without gathering the stones.

You can't be Paul without getting on a donkey pointed towards Damascus. (Okay, bad example.)

What I'm saying is, to win the joust, you have to actually pick up the lance and get on the horse. Maybe not in that order.

See, now, I know I'm, um, unique. I know I'm a lot to handle. I know I'm pretty much dynamite packed into a tiny, 4'10" curly redheaded package. It's been that way my whole life. The general consensus I've heard from several sweet young men now is, "You're not like other girls." I take it as a compliment. But even so, what ultimately tends to happen is that men take an interest, get close to me, and come to realize that they're not quite ready for me yet.

It can be maddening, especially when the man has a razor-sharp wit that I have to run to keep up with and a laugh I'd voluntarily do pratfalls for just to hear again. Really, Lord?

And the answer I get back from God is, "Shhh. Just trust Me."

I don't know how long it will take. I don't know who it will finally be. God won't tell me. But I will say this: when God spoke to me about this during one of my own many wilderness periods, back in London in 2006, one of the things He said was, "It will be hard, but it will be worth it."

He wasn't lying about the first part. So I'm pretty sure the second part will be true, too.

In the meantime...pratfalls can be lots of fun if you know how to do them well. And you all know, I don't do anything halfway.

When the Dealing's Done

Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom will I send? Who will go for us?" And I said, "Here I am. Send me!" -Isaiah 6:8

So, here's the thing about me: I don't do things halfway.

(I may have mentioned this previously, in fact.)

What I mean is, when I invest in someone, as in for real invest in them, it's more than just cooking what they like to eat and finding out what makes them laugh. That's just what I'll admit to. But it's so very much more than that, what God calls me to do when He plants someone in front of me to invest my emotions and prayers into. Behind the closed doors of my church when I steal inside to worship alone, in the darkness of the hours before bed when I'm laying everything out in front of Him, in the songs I play in my car and on my lunch break at work when I hide behind the building and meet my Lord there. Praying for God's will, for that person's relationship with Him, for direction and clarity and blessing and love and purpose and strength. Praying as God has spent the last ten years teaching me how.

Recently, in one of the most unexpected turn of events in my life thus far, God planted someone new in front of me in whom to invest. Getting to know this person has been an absolutely incredible adventure so far, and I can't wait for more.

This time, though, I hadn't really been investing the way I should've been.

Why, you ask?

Well, it's simple: because I was afraid.

Investing in someone like this, like God has me do, is a lot of work. It's exhausting. It's emotional. Also, up until now, it's ended with God using me in that role for a season and then saying, "OK, now it's over." (I always end up seeing His timing and will perfectly afterwards, but the whole process can be a humdinger.) And right now, I have no idea what God's will is, so I was just sort of spiritually...chilling. Just hanging out. Going with the flow.

If you know me at all, your reaction to that last sentence was probably "Ha!" And you'd be right.

Because that's not me at all. It's not in my nature. If I'm acting that way, that's fear. And where is fear from?

Oh yeah. Not God. Not in the least bit.

Yet, still, I was afraid. I was hedging my bets. Not really ready to lay my cards on the table. That's right - I was playing poker...with God.

Yeah.

But then (because there's always a "but then" with me and God, right?) - I visited a new church a few nights ago. One of the members shared with everyone that his father always used to say, "Either get out early or commit to see it through and give it your all. Don't do anything halfway."

Well, bugger.

Immediately, this happened:

God: *raises eyebrow*

Me: *ignoring*

God: Ahem.

Me: ...

God: AHEM.

Me: What?

God: Did you hear that?

Me: Yes...

God: Well?

Me: What's Your point?

God: You know what My point is.

Me: But I don't know what Your WILL is!

God: So?

Me: So...I'm trying to do Your will!

God: No you're not. You know what you're supposed to be doing, and you're not doing it!

Me: But...but...I didn't know...

God: Don't you get it? What you're really saying is that you won't step up until I say yes.

Me: I...what?

God: You're holding out on Me.

Me: No, I'm not!

God: Yes, you are! Is that really how you're going to treat this incredible blessing I've given you?

Me: No, Daddy! I didn't mean to...

God: And anyway...why should I say yes before I know you'll say yes?

Me: But...I...

God: You should know by now that's not the way it works, my dear.

No, that's not the way it works.

And so, this is me, laying my cards on the table. Stepping up. Here we go. No matter what God's will is in the end, I have to invest for the time He's called me to it. I don't have a choice. But I can do so confidently, because I know He'll be there to catch me no matter what happens.

Because ultimately, more than anything else, His glory is, and always has to be, first.

Here I am, Lord. Use me.

The Green Paper and the White Horse

As a girl who's still waiting for her Prince Charming to drop to one knee with a diamond ring in his outstretched hand, I've had a lot of time to think and learn about relationships. And, as a girl (er, woman?) several years out of college and my parents' house, I've thus had several years now of trying to make it on my own.

Finally, after years of struggling, two months ago, God blessed me with a great job in a growing company that promises security and opportunity and ample rewards for my hard work. It's incredible, really. I wake up every morning with praises on my tongue as I drive to work.

But as I position myself to really begin what appears to, at last, be my career - at least the first part of it - I can't help but wonder: am I shooting myself in the foot when it comes to relationships?

As I've watched others get into relationships, engagements, and marriages, I often see the earning of money being heartily shouldered by the husband. I've heard phrases from women like "He just wants me to make enough to pay for gas" and "I'm so happy he only wants me to supplement what he earns." It's made me wonder: is that what men want?

What I'm really asking is: is being self-sufficient a turn-off? Do I need, instead, to be a damsel in distress? Do men want to be able to ride in and save a woman who can't take care of herself in order to really feel like a man?

Now, I've never really been much of a "career woman" in the classic sense - in the sense of blind ambition, money-hunger, and choosing one's career over one's family - not in the slightest. I have passions, and drive, and yes, ambition, but it's not because I want to be the CEO or to puncture the glass ceiling with my Manolo Blahniks. (That's a designer shoe, gentlemen.) I want to minister. I want to use the gifts God has given me to share His love with others. I want to do what I love, and love what I do, and show His love everywhere I am, no matter where that is.

But yes, also...I want to be able to make a living.

My parents worked hard to provide well for me and my sister. We've never wanted for anything. Because of their drive, we went to good colleges. We have cars. We never have to worry that we'll be homeless or hungry. In these frustrating years after college that I've been struggling, I have had the security of knowing that my parents will always be there for me with not only emotional but also financial support. It has been an incredible blessing, and I want to be able to provide that same security for my own family, if God blesses me with children of my own. If the economy is this bad now, what will it be like in 10 years? 20? 40? I shudder to think.

So, to that end, and also because I'm a grown woman and I need to, I work. I work hard, with God's help and grace. I praise God for the opportunities given to me, and I show Him respect by taking advantage of them. I want to advance in my new company. I want to make a career, a living, out of this job that I've been given - unless or until God calls me to something else. I don't want to be an albatross around my future husband's neck; I want to be someone he can rely on throughout his life rather than yet another burden for him to shoulder. What if he loses his job? What if the worst happens? I believe that being a help-meet means not just being an assistant, but a partner.

But does that attitude, and that ability, and my new job and career, make me less attractive to a man who wants to gallop in on his white horse and save me?

I hope not.

Because here's the thing: I still need a man to be my hero. I need him to be strong in the Lord, a spiritual leader in our home. I need him to claim the Biblical authority he is meant to and be fully committed to the well-being of our family. I need him to be close enough to Jesus that he listens to Him about everything. I will need him to help teach our children, to minister to our elderly parents, and to help guide our lives in such a way that will constantly bring us further into God's will.

I need him to be strong enough to be able to handle the strong-willed woman I am.

As I was thinking about all this, about being a Christian woman and working and what does that mean?, I got the bright idea to, duh, go to the Bible. Here's what I found:

A wife of noble character who can find?

She is worth far more than rubies.
Her husband has full confidence in her
and lacks nothing of value.
She brings him good, not harm,
all the days of her life.
She selects wool and flax
and works with eager hands.
She is like the merchant ships,
bringing her food from afar.
She gets up while it is still night;
she provides food for her family
and portions for her female servants.
She considers a field and buys it;
out of her earnings she plants a vineyard.
She sets about her work vigorously;
her arms are strong for her tasks.
She sees that her trading is profitable,
and her lamp does not go out at night. -Proverbs 31:10-18

Well, then. I think I'll pretty much just keep doing what I've been doing.

If you want the truth, ultimately, my goal is to live in such a way, in all areas of my life, that 30 years from now, my husband will say to our children, "I praise God that I was lucky enough to marry your mother."

When The Shoe Doesn't Fit

Anyone remember this post, about the lovely pink Nine West sandals I had my eye on back in the spring?

I waited and waited, and sure enough, they went on sale. When I checked back in at Nine West a few weeks ago, they were an incredible 75% off. That's more like it! So I excitedly asked to try them on. I expected it to be a shoe love affair that would last for a cork-heeled lifetime.

But...no.

Mind you, I've been wearing heels for well nigh on 15 years now. I know how to carry myself in platforms. But when I slipped my feet into those sandals that looked so perfect on the shelf and took a step, I nearly toppled forward and landed nose-to-Nine-West-floor. I could barely even hobble around in them - the arch was too high, the angle was wrong.

I couldn't believe it. Those sandals that I'd thought would be so perfect...weren't.

I handed them back to the salesclerk forlornly. It wouldn't have made sense to buy them.

But then, a few days later, I was in a discount shoe store with a friend, and, amidst the clearance rack of uninspiring flats and end-of-season flip flops, in the last place I expected to find a pair of sandals that would delight me like the pink ones...I saw them.

A gorgeous shade of green. High heels. Similar to the Nine West sandals, but better than I could have imagined. Perfect, really. And best of all, they were about the cost of a Happy Meal.

I tried them on. Despite being a size too big normally, they actually fit! I couldn't believe it.

They came home with me that very day.

It just goes to show...when God says no to what you thought you wanted, more than likely, He's getting ready to bless you with something even better.

Cosmically Cream-Pied: My Suffering For His Glory

"So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God." -1 Corinthians 10:31

I think one of the most difficult concepts to grasp about God, not only for non-Christians but for Christians, too, is that He does everything for His glory. When you know God as Abba, Daddy, creator and lover of your soul, it’s hard to understand that He would do anything else besides pet you and snuggle on you and give you balloon animals to play with. Which, don’t get me wrong, He’s pretty good at that sort of thing – the grace, the unconditional love, and the peace that passes all understanding. He’s there when you need Him and He’s the only one who will never, ever fail you.

But He still does everything for His glory.

And if you ask in earnestness to be used by God, He will, in fact, use you for that very purpose.

It was March of this year. I had just started at a new job. I was one of six women in my department - the youngest, the most naive, the quietest. It was my fourth job in a year and I was burned out. But if there was anything I’d learned in that year, it was that when God put me in a job, there was always, always someone He wanted me to connect with and minister to, to love on, and in doing so, show His love. I mean, obviously we’re meant to do that with everyone, but God usually had specific people in mind when He planted me in a new job. This time was no different.

But this time, darn it, I didn’t really want to.

I knew from the moment I met her what God wanted from me. It was as if there were a big neon sign pointing down from Heaven saying “Here she is - show her you know Me.” Bright. Blinking. Obvious as a neon sign can be. But it wasn’t going to be at all as simple as marching up and saying “Hi, I love Jesus, how about you?”

She was a veteran, having been at the job for over thirty years. Have I mentioned I was the newbie? The temp? The young wide-eyed innocent, like a sticky-fingered kindergartener trying to learn to sail the boat she’d been captaining for years?

I knew what God wanted. But I was weary. Frustrated at the uncertainty of still being a temp, exhausted with my new schedule and my 45-minute commute, overwhelmed with the newness of my responsibilities. I wanted to take a pass. I just wanted to come in, work, make my pittance of an hourly wage, and go home and collapse. My life was tumultuous enough anyway, and God certainly knew it. Believe me, I reminded Him regularly.

But there it was. The neon sign. Blinking. Unmistakable.

For two months, I tried to ignore it. For two months, I inched around her quietly, keeping to myself, trying not to be too much trouble. Even though, all along, God was saying “Ahem” and throwing out no small amount of pointed stares and even more pointed fingers.

Yet I kept quiet.

And then something happened that sent everything shattering down around me: for the third time in my life, I got my heart really broken.

Now, much as I try not to, I usually wear my heart centered very visibly on my sleeve. In the evenings, I nursed my broken heart by watching Bridget Jones’ Diary on repeat with whitener on my teeth while obsessing about ways to (organically!) enhance the redness of my hair and whining ad nauseum to my very obliging male friends. But during the day, under the fluorescent lights of my office, I couldn’t hide it. I couldn’t wipe the “I’ve-been-hit-by-a-mack-truck” expression off my face, and my coworker immediately noticed.

“What’s wrong, honey?” she asked.

And so, instead of deigning to obey God for months before, now, I just went to mush. I told her the whole story, poured out my misery and confusion and general wretchedness. She listened and sympathized and offered me grace and encouragement. And then she shared with me some of her own heartbreak, and I responded in kind. We connected not on a level of here, let me minister to you but we’re both broken and need our Lord to heal us.

That afternoon, after we’d so deeply connected, I sent her what I thought was the simplest of gestures - my favorite Pslam in an email. As I was on the phone with a customer, she came over and hugged me, crying. She said it meant so much to her, and she printed it out and pinned it up at her desk. From that day on, she began calling me her “angel” - the person who connected her to God.

There is no way in the world that I will ever take credit for that. But my goodness, was it humbling.

One week later, I was moved to a different team, on a different floor. And three weeks after that, we all lost our jobs. I didn’t know then, but it had been my last chance to do what God had been prodding me to do for months.

God does everything for His glory. He let my heart be broken - for His glory. He let me be miserable and wretched and confused and flailing - for His glory. He knew that it would break down the wall and get accomplished what He wanted to get accomplished. I’d asked Him to use me, and He did.

And you know what is so unbelievable to me? That day, the day of tears and shortness of breath and the world spinning and nothing making sense, when my sweet, precious coworker called me her angel and shared with me the kind of heartbreak she’d been through, I went into the bathroom, stared at myself in the mirror, and thanked God for letting it happen. For letting me get my heart broken. Because more than anything else, I realized, I want to show His glory, too.

The Post-Collegiate and the Restless

For all of you who are older than 25 but not yet firmly entrenched in the minivan-driving, late-night-feeding, extracurricular-activity-juggling stages of your lives, those of you who left the hallowed walls of your undergraduate institution anywhere from, say, three to fifteen years ago…do you remember what it used to be like?

When I was in college, I certainly didn’t view it as the best time of my life. Actually, I viewed it as pretty much an extension of high school with a bigger cafeteria and more papers to write. I was still not part of the “in crowd” – only now, the “in crowd” was made up of the theater and music kids who looked warily at a writing major with the hairy eyeball similar to that of zebras sizing up an antelope trying to fit into the herd. Nobody cared that I loved directing or that I’d done it in high school to great fanfare in my tiny hometown. My hair was still frizzy. I still couldn’t find my budding pubescent ideal of a suitably artistic, poetry-reading, brooding boyfriend to save my soul. (There’s probably more than one reason for that, by the way, but I digress.) I still bought my jeans in the juniors’ section and my makeup from Wal-Mart. It was all just a bit of a letdown in the “I can’t wait to get out of this cow town because I’ll FIT IN when I go to college, dagnabbit!” department.

I wasn’t popular. I didn’t like swigging beer out of a red plastic cup amidst cigarette smoke and bad rap music in a frat house living room. I didn’t really fit in anywhere, much as I tried. (This is a pattern that I’ve found has stuck with me up until this very moment.)

In my now late-twenties wisdom, I’ve deduced that we usually can’t see the forest for the trees until we’re at least a few years out of the forest.

But despite all that, in college, my goodness, did we think. And why did we think? Well, largely, because we read.

There was a time when I could tell you everything you ever wanted to know about Regency-era and Victorian British literature and how those characters mirrored and related to life. I knew what I thought about stuff, like how you can’t teach someone to write, you can only teach someone to write like you, which I subconsciously channeled on a weekly basis to my writing professors as they ripped apart my short stories in workshop class. My friends and I took honors classes called “Thought,” “Thought and Civilization,” and “Thought and Social Sciences” (only at an expensive liberal arts school, I’ll tell you), where I was introduced to topics such as racism, gender equality, sexual stereotyping, and a host of other controversial subjects that had never even been brought up in my small-town high school. I had to defend – and thus further examine and delve deeper into – my faith. No longer was I a rebel because my family were Democrats; now, I was different because I was far more conservative than most of my classmates.

Because of these classes, my friends and I sat around and talked. We debated. We discussed. We read. We wrote. We thought. We engaged with each other intellectually and emotionally in a way I’ve not really experienced before or since. While the year I spent in England pursuing my Master’s degree in screenwriting was the most creatively challenging of my life, it still wasn’t the same as the years I spent thinking about the meaning of life with my fellow, largely clueless – because, let’s face it, we were 20 – undergraduate companions.

And now…what? Now, we’re all a little older, we’ve lived a little more. Our faith and wills and strength and work ethics and loyalties have been tested. Largely, we’re much more qualified to talk about the meaning of life after having, y’know, lived it a bit than we were when we sat in our dorm rooms digesting bad cafeteria food and sticking toothpicks into Peeps to recreate the Arthurian legend for fun on a Friday night.

But we don’t.

It’s been coming on me in ever-increasing stages. The ennui. The listlessness. The feeling that snickering little elves are sneaking into my grown-up apartment every night and sliding past my toy poodle at the foot of the bed to suck my brain out through tiny straws and replace it with a cardboard cutout of itself.

Now, the hot debate between me and my grown-up friends is which flavor of Sunchips is the best, or which grocery store is running the most deals this week. Did you know that high-energy washers and dryers can cut down 60% of your utility bills for a family of four? If you’re interested, a friend of mine can rattle off sales tax percentages in five different states. A couple years ago, for about a month until we got preoccupied with silly things like paying rent, my best friend from college and I became accountability partners to make sure we were both actively reading books and not just the nutritional information on food packaging. The last time I inquired if someone liked Jane Austen, the answer I got was, “Well, I liked the movies.”

Has it really come to this?

My turning point came this weekend when I (very temporarily) forgot that Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley had written Frankenstein and could not without the aid of Google remember who had written Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, both of which I wrote papers on in college. I felt humiliated in front of my also well-educated friend on the other end of the phone line. I am smart, I swear! If my favorite professor could see me now, I dread to think what his reaction would have been. I totally shamed him.

That was it. It was the end.

I might not be the most glamorous, or most effervescent, or (gasp) the wittiest girl all the time, and even though I long ago mastered how to properly curl my hair, one step in the rain or humidity will be my undoing…but I know my literature, thank you very much.

An hour after that ill-fated Google search, I was nose-to-binding in the library. An hour after that, I was lugging a stack of seven books through the front door of my grown-up-apartment (the most I could comfortably carry out by myself).

Since Saturday afternoon, I’ve devoured two of those books. So far.

And let me tell you, friends, this is just the beginning.

The Kiss that Stopped the Music

I'm a couple weeks late on posting this, but it was just today that I found a video of it online, and, as the old saying goes, a picture's worth a thousand words. My meager rambling couldn't do it justice, so I refrained from writing about it until I could show it. Until now.

As I've written before, I'm a bona-fide, unashamed Gleek, mostly because of these two characters. Some of the histrionics the other characters and plot lines can be off putting at times; but sappy, ridiculous, and controversial or not, this show does emotion, depth, and love well - and not just between these two characters, either. (The relationship between Kurt and Burt Hummell is a prime example.) But these two are my favorites.

Finn, the down-home country boy with the inexplicable charisma and the heart of gold who isn't afraid to stand up for what he believes in - and even sing about it. Rachel, the over-the-top drama queen bound for Broadway who encourages Finn to step up and grow up. Finn teaches Rachel lessons about grace and selflessness. Rachel inspires Finn to be a better man.

Their relationship has always been more than just friendship but not always quite true love - Finn had to get closure from his ex-girlfriend (Quinn) and while he was waffly, Rachel got distracted by another musician (Jesse). But for weeks and weeks during the second season, while Finn was back together with Quinn, hordes of Gleeks all over the country have been crying out "Team Rachel!" as we've seen that these two are just not quite right when they're not together.

And then, the week before the season finale, during a funeral, Finn (finally) has a moment of self-realization, which leads him to break up with Quinn. He realizes he wants to be with Rachel.

To make an hour-long episode story short, they all go to New York for the national show choir championship. This is Finn and Rachel's song together.

It's glorious. It's perfect. It's epic. The song, the kiss, everything. It's the kiss that stopped the music.

We grown-ups in the audience know that it doesn't end when the curtain drops. Real life will set in, even amidst the most scripted, storybook tale of love stories. But for just one brief shining moment, all the girls who have a little bit of Rachel in us can grasp onto the hope that, if we haven't yet, one day we'll have a kiss that stops the music, too.

REMIND you of anyone?!

Something epically wonderful happened this weekend.

"What?!" you ask. Did I win the lottery? Did I finally get a cute, smart, Jesus-loving boyfriend who thinks I'm hilarious? Did the rapture happen and I'm typing this from inside my certainly purple-walled mansion in Heaven?

Well, no.

BUT!

Last night, a lovely and sweet and precious and VERY SMART friend of mine was visiting and helped me accomplish something I've been wanting to do for well nigh on three years now: he set up my computer so I can use my not-too-shabbily-sized TV as a monitor.

Which means...

...wait for it...

...because everything's always better when you have to wait for it...

...and then it finally happens...

...(or so I've been told)...

...yes, that's right, ladies and gentleman - I CAN NOW WATCH CRAIG FERGUSON'S MONOLOGUES FROM BACK IN 2005 AND ONWARD (which I found years ago archived on a website surely sent to me by my loving, generous Lord) ON MY TELEVISION SCREEN.

OH, MY GOODNESS. FLAIL. AND FLAIL SOME MORE.

As my sort-of-sister and fellow redheaded bestie Kayla often says...CAPSLOCK FOR THE REST OF THE DAY.

Here's a little preview - one of my favorite monologues of Craig's EVER. It's from 2008, and if you know me at all I've probably already, ahem, strongly coerced you into watching this, but no one's complained yet!

I KNOW, RIGHT?

Also, I should advise: if you know me in real life and you visit me anytime within the next few weeks, be prepared for me to plant you on my big comfy couch and strongly coerce you to watch several of Craig's early monologues with me. It going to happen. It's just a fact. You've been warned. But I'll also feed you - probably cake! - so, y'know...six-a-one. Cake and comedy and my cute dog - there are far worse ways to spend an evening, I assure you.