Don't know where this is headed...

It is a horrible title for a blog isn't it? I really don't know what else to say though. Somewhere hidden inside of me is this creative, passionate, lyrical side of me that is being repressed by something. Fear maybe. Maybe regret. Maybe busy-ness, or worry. Or maybe a little bit of all of the above. So I feel like I'm this maze of a person, trying to find where I'm headed on the outside, but trying to figure me all out on the inside too. It is a difficult, complicated, tedious task. So when I title my blog "Don't know where this is headed," well, it's because I really don't.
We just returned from World Changers, Evansville, IN. As far as the World Changer's organization is concerned, I was extremely disappointed. The trip in general I would deem as a success. Our group united in an incredible way. It is like no group we have ever taken before. We (the girls) made some incredible friends from Montgomery, Alabama (we know, we're incredibly attracted to accents ;), and grew closer together as a church family / youth group. If nothing came out of WC besides these two things, it was successful. I've been very much inspired to "hang out" with the girls more... to not just invest in their lives but to be a part of them... that's really what it's all about, right? Being the visible Jesus to the best of my ability, well, let me rephrase, to allow Him to make Himself visible through me. I fall so short in trying to imitate Him.
We're now getting into the swing of things back at home, getting ready for VBS and then on to our anniversary, Aaron's birthday, and our vacation. (Which I'm really excited about... I desperately am in need of some romantic moments with my husband.)
As far as I'm concerned, I feel this great hunger inside of me for the Word. World Changer's left me empty. I need a fresh Word from God... a fresh revelation, a fresh promise that he hasn't forgotten me. I see Him working in my patience and I see Him teaching me a ton through parenthood (just like He has and is continuing to do through marriage), but I feel I need more. As hungry as I am for Him, I desire to be even more hungry, more empty, so that when God so chooses to fill me up I oooooze His goodness, His love, His Words.
I've found myself praying and thinking about Bryton often. I'm so afraid of this world that he will be living in during coming years. I pray daily that he'll find Jesus early and yearn and thirst and long for Him. It reminds me of our good friend Mark McConkey's song about his little girl. I'll post the lyrics below. Lord only knows what He has in store for this little boy who has my heart tied around his little finger. He's this little ball of potential that I have the privilege of holding, loving and nurturing. I pray God makes Him a mighty warrior, a winner of souls.
Here's the song:
The shade of morning
The light shines through
The sun rises quickly and kisses you
I've never witnessed a more beautiful sight
Than you waking slowly, your blue eyes seeing the light.
These early days, my wish for you
That you grow up righteous, grow up to be true
You'd find Him quickly, as your strength and your guide
Jesus revealed to you, your blue eyes seeing the light
May the Lord be your shepherd, may the Lord be your fill
May the Lord make you lie in green pastures
May he lead you by waters and restore your soul
May he guide you in paths of righteousness
Even though you may enter the valley of death
I know you will not fear, for you know he is near
He annoints you with oil and your cuppeth overflows
With goodness and love all the days of your life and you'll dwell in the house of the Lord - forever
Now this life goes by quickly I want to know
that you love Jesus more than your daddy,
jesus more than your mom
through trials and temptations may you always do right
with your gaze fixed upon him - your blue eyes seeing the light.

Pretty amazing huh. Yeah, I thought so.

Curveballs

Sometimes life throws them at you. Or God throws them at you. Or life throws them at you and God helps you through them. It's that whole perfect will / permissive will thing, and personally, it's not something I have the energy to think about right now.
One way or another, life takes some unexpected turns and it seems to happen at somewhat inconvenient times.
Just recently I was contacted via facebook by my real dad's fiance. For those of you who don't know, it's been about 20 years since I've had ANY contact with my real father. Bruce has always been my dad, will always be my dad, and has been the only one who has shown much interest in me. Well, this contact obviously came as a great surprise. She had contacted me for him (he doesn't have facebook, though is considering it now, beautiful), to tell me my grandmother (who I greatly enjoyed and was the ONLY one I have any memory of from that side of my family) had passed away. They informed me of the times of the visitation and funeral and put the ball in my court as to whether I wanted to come or not. For those of you who don't know my dilema, imagine for yourself for a moment that an individual denied you time and time again and then finally said, "hey, gonna be in town friday if you want to meet up... with all of my family, with brothers and sisters you didn't know you had and a whole lot of ppl who remember you but you don't remember, yeah, the day after tomorrow... Friday." Ummm, difficult. Not to mention on top of the whole scenario I worry completely about my dad... Bruce's... reaction to my decision. If I did choose to go what kind of hurt would that bring him. A great deal as I'm told. And of course, here comes my Biblical perspective.
It's the biological dad and the adoptive dad, in every sense of the word for me. The adopted dad raised me... brought me, went to dance recitals and ball games, congratulated on straight A's and on celebrated on birth days, took me to the zoo, to tropical sno, sat with me when I was sick. The biological one, well, he did nothing of value except assist in bringing me to be. And the thought, from the adopted dad, if I then wanted to find out what this biological dad was all about, can't be good. It's like us, as Christians... we are adopted into God's family. We relish in all of the rewards of the family, all of the joys of being a part, made His own, loved as if I'd been born in myself... and then temptation rears its ugly head and I become curious to what this other side of me is. It was the sin I was born into... isn't that who I really am? You see the correlation here?
Anyway, I decided not to go to the funeral. Not because I think my real dad is sin or anything... I just didn't feel like the appropriate time to meet and greet with family I've not seen in 20 years was at my grandma's funeral. I want it to be a time to celebrate her life... not our reuniting.
So anyway, there's my two cents.
-a

Another Side of Me

There’s something you all don’t know about me, something I barely know about myself as I’ve only experienced this “other” side of me temporarily, at different times on the road. I don’t know what exactly I would call myself, but I’m a sucker for the city (though I don’t know that I would want to live their permanently), but I’m also a sucker for coffeehouses. Yep, coffeehouses. The amazing thing, I really don’t like coffee. When we visit Starbucks I consistently order the Strawberries and Crème Frappacino. I’ve wavered from this only once in my life, during the Christmas season, and ordered basically some steamed apple juice with cinnamon flavoring and whipped cream. I retreated quickly and went back to my Frap.
Nonetheless, there’s something wonderful about coffeehouses. I don’t know what it is, but the environment enthralls me. To be able to go in, hang out in your own secluded little corner, comfy corner I may add, hang out on your Macbook and carry on small talk (if accompanied), or just be (if you’re alone) is beautiful. I love the freedom of it. In fact, I can assure you if there was a coffeehouse near my home, I’d pack B up in his stroller in the morning, throw my hair up in a bun, grab my Macbook and off we’d stroll to hang out for an hour or so. It’s beautiful, isn’t it? In fact, I think if I could pursue my dream career, like, really dreaming here, ok, I would write, write, write my little heart out for publications and periodicals, newspapers and newsletters, by myself every morning in the comfort of a coffeehouse. I like to get out too much to stay at home, and the nostalgia of the coffeehouse would be the perfect environment for an aspiring writer, don’t you think? In a perfect world I’d make enough with my writing to afford to take Bryton to a sitter for a few hours, and to enjoy my morning cup of... well, whatever I could find that’s not caffeinated, and write. I’d be a part time writer, full time mom, and full time helper of my husband in the youth. The glory shines around the idea. What a thought.
Maybe I’m a nerd, but the idea really intrigues me. Even when I think about “fun” nights out I even consider poetry bars or jazz clubs, just to hang out, mellow out (without alcohol of course), and enjoy my kind of good “art”. Maybe I’m eclectic, or maybe I enjoy too much a slower more easy going lifestyle. Either way, I would love to pursue the thought of it all. Now someone just needs to open up a coffeehouse a few blocks down, and I need to land some writing gigs that pay well enough for me to frequent them and give me something to ponder over while I’m there.
Until next time –
A

Addictions Can Be To More than Just Substances

They can be to swaddlers too. Hi, my name is Alicia and my son and I are addicted to swaddling. They tell you a lot of things as new parents, when it comes to sleep, a lot of times you hear, whatever works (except putting them in bed with you). Well, I can honestly say that Bryton has not once slept the night with us in our bed... not even a nap. However, what worked for his sleeping, was swaddling. It has worked since 3 months. He hated it when he was smaller. But at three months it did the trick. And at four. And at five. And at six, and well, now at seven. When he turned four months we got him an actual swaddler instead of using a blanket. We got it big so he could have it forever, and he has. Now I have nightmares of my 18 year old waiting patiently for me to swaddle him before he can take a nap on Sunday afternoon after church and every night before bed. AGHHHHH! What have we done!? Apparently too much of a good thing is still too much. So, we are currently, and when I say currently I mean right this very second, trying the transition to the sleep sack. He is still "in" something, but his arms are free and free to flail him awake. So far we've made it an hour into what is usually a two hour nap. We're going to fight this addiction if it's the last thing I do. After all, he's become quite the Huidini at getting out of the stupid thing... I'm literally winded after I've wrapped him to the point of his not being able to breathe so that his arms stay in at least until I leave the room. It's time to cross the threshold here.
So anyway, that's the newest adventures in the addictions of the seven month old.
Until next time ...

Fond Memories

Our memory is an incredible thing. I guess I'm noticing it more because of Bryton's lack of memory. I can't wait to have family traditions that he'll remember, enjoy and hopefully carry on through his life. I feel for those Alzheimer patients. If there is anything devastating to lose, it's the memories that bring you happiness and joy every time you think of them, you know, those memories that make you smile. That being said, I have compiled some of my fondest memories after much thought and have listed them below. What a great place to come and remind myself of some of the greatest times in my life... small times and big times. I hope you enjoy reminiscing with me.
(Starting with the longest ago)

1. Swimming at Casey's house during the summer. EVERY summer! That's a classic. (Not to mention me always getting mad at Cole and going home, then Casey having to be mediator to make it better. Poor guy.)

2. Neighborhood flashlight tag. (Ditto the Cole thing here.)

3. Helping my dad make rice krispy treats ( I get my awesome rice krispy treat skills from him, my mom can't make them to save her life) and Snowballs with my mom during Christmas time. (She dominates the snowball category.)

4. "Forking" all of the meat that went on the grill. Didn't matter what I was doing, after mom would season meat she'd call me in to fork it to death :)

5. Fastforwarding some - Hanging out with Amy 8th grade - Senior year. Hanging out at her house in general, but specifically, driving to Pooh's to tan, almost dying after having a full soda bottle chucked at us, her taking me to church (the whole reason I'm where I am today), going up town and dressing up to go out, jamming to some christian music in her room, making food in her kitchen, hard candy, fortune cookies, chicken strips, french fries and heinz ketchup :)

6. Hanging out with Carrie B and Jabbi - both at school, on the weekends, after school, etc. Carrie and I made an awesome cake for the rink once, and Jabbi spent the week with Aaron and I in Myrtle Beach over New Years.

7. Kristin Duncan and I and our nights at Long Branch, and the night she introduced me to Aaron, and going with her to Chicago... we had great times.

8. Me and Mindy Piper -- too many nights in Pinckneyville, hanging out with Nipper, decking ourselves out for football games. We had so much fun together.

9. Dagan - praise God for him my senior year. We did a lot of talking and he hung out a lot!

10. Sabra and our trip to Steak n Shake after working the rink. And poor Super in the back... that's all I have to say about that.

11. Speaking of the rink... every bit of it. Hanging out with friends, stealing trolli burgers & dogs (right Matty?), Lance and Aaron playing washers, Zeke flying across the rink floor, me getting tied to a pole, Rachel, Sabra, Heather H and I trying to play hockey with just the four of us... awww bliss ;)

12. Cherry Vanilla Fruitopia - and swimming at the Morris'. Those were great summers.

13. 3 words, Par 3 Course. We had such a great time there, girls driving the cart and hitting a few shots, struggling to find golf balls, fighting mosquitos, getting home at 1:00 am. TOO fun!

14. Rachel and I meeting our boyfriends at Kokopeli for dinner. Then going to miniature golf. Wish there was still miniature golf around here.

15. Aaron rink and personal duties: Sam's trips, buying flowers for the Valentine's Day skate, going shopping during a blizzard on December 23rd because he had done NO shopping for Christmas yet. This was all before we were dating, but we really enjoyed each others company.

16. Our first dating Christmas at Aaron's parents house when his whole family was there (he's going to think I'm crazy) or just when his whole family is there in general. I loved being there with his family. Going to hear the orchestra downtown, loving Neno's quirkiness, and Chuck's, well, Chuckness, helping his mom prepare meals, hanging out with Mark and Jayden, Jayden's hippopotmus for Christmas. I just love it... I even remember having a headache and sitting out on the porch, and playing cards with the family late at night. I just love... family. Maybe that's why I'd like a bigger one myself.

17. Visiting Aaron's parents during the summers of our dating. Vividly I remember taking late night convertible rides, looking at the Fenton Castles, eating custard at Fritz' and Ted Drews. Playing in the sprinklers in the morning... playing with Zeke... going for walks in their park, etc.

18. Traveling with Wild Week in 2004. Meeting so many amazing people, feeling needed, having amazing new experiences, missing Aaron like crazy, him sending me his sweatshirts when we were in Glorietta, feeling better in my own skin then I ever had. (The 2nd best time about feeling good in my skin... now, weird after just having been pregnant.)

19. Helping in the youth group. Working hard all day with 1st graders and still being so excited to have Stomp on Wednesday nights and Fuel on Sunday nights.

20. Getting married. If I could relive any one week of my life, this would be it - wedding and honeymoon. I'll never forget how I felt walking down that aisle, or seeing Aaron watch me walk down the aisle, or talking during one of the songs about how funny it was going to be leaving in the convertible when the wedding party had decorated the truck, and that I had lipstick on my teeth :) And that he thought I was beautiful. Even Ken's message was perfect. Then staying up most of the night in the hotel room talking... and then flying together for the first time the next day. And everything that went wrong, our luggage getting lost, Aaron leaving his credit card behind... it was awesome, and perfect. Going golfing, and hiking, and watching movies, and playing miniature golf, and eating ice cream... and enjoying each other -- it was awesome. We saw an amazing double rainbow... we joked that it was God's blessing on our marriage :)

21. Newlywededness: waking up early on a Saturday just happy to see each other and going out for breakfast. Coming home to a clean house and candles lit. Our first married Christmas together... listening to Christmas music, eating cookies and decorating the tree -- a family tradition :) Playing Tiger Woods golf, and watching everwood, 7th heaven on Monday nights.

22. Select times on the road.

23. Telling Aaron I was pregnant on Easter. Plastic eggs with a puzzle that said, "The Easter Bunny brought more than eggs this year, we're having a baby!" And seeing his face... wonderful!

24. Watching the 2008 Olympics in the comfort (on uncomfort) of our upstairs air-conditioned apartment, eating yogurt covered pretzels. Did I mention I was 7 months pregnant? Loved it!

25. Bringing Bryton home. I would say "having Bryton", but lets be real, you push for 2.5 hours and then be too tired and exhausted to enjoy your child... it was very much worth it, but not my fondest memory :) Giving him his first bath, Aaron enjoying him. Touching his little toes / hands.

26. And... currently. There are just times in your life when you can feel that they'll be times you'll remember forever... and I'm living them... and I know it.

He Doesn't Need My Help

I don't know about you, but I appreciate feeling needed. To know my husband, and my son, wants and needs me by their sides means a lot to me. I love feeling like a task could not be performed as well without my being a part of it. Maybe it's a pride thing, maybe it's just the satisfaction of feeling that you have something to contribute, either way, I'm trying to revamp my thinking.
Pastor spoke this morning on worry. That's like me, the pot, calling the kettle black. I found humorous (as did my dad) that Joe began the sermon with "Don't Worry, Be Happy" *do do do do do do do do do do doooooo, do do do do do do doooooo, do do do do do, Don't worry, be happy now*. You know the song. So do I. Why? Because it was my theme song when I was growing up.
I worried about EVERYTHING. To the point of my mother making me listen and learn the lyrics to this particular song probably 5 out of 7 days of the week. Really. I'm not kidding. Sad huh?
Anyway, I worried about not having teeth when I was old, about ever finding the job I wanted, about never getting married, never having kids, dying. I worried about where everyone was and why they were there, I worried about money. I worried about that a lot. I got used to ordering the cheapest thing on the menu and then feeling guilty for what that would cost my parents. I worried about everything... and, I've carried that into my adult life.
Until I met Aaron, I did the same thing at restaurants. He brought me out of that a little. What is $2.00 to get what you realllllly want? After all, we wouldn't be eating out if we couldn't afford it. But I still worry about my teeth falling out... I worry about being alone, with no family, in my old age, I worry about ever fulfilling my ultimate purpose, I worry about a career and what that will entail. I worry about never finding my niche. I worry about what I wear, the to do list three miles long, and the fact that my basically black furniture is dusty... AGAIN. I worry that I'm not doing enough... and then I worry that I'm doing too much. I worry that we'll never be able to retire, I worry that my kids will never understand how much I really love them, that something might be wrong with one of them, and most of all, that if I don't worry about these things nothing will get done, I'll never find that job, I'll never love my kids enough, and I'll be alone forever.
And what good comes from all of this worrying? Nothing. Nada.
Worrying doesn't produce the job I've always wanted... it doesn't make my kids healthy, in fact, it makes me sick! Worrying doesn't put money in a retirement fund, it doesn't give me a huge family when I'm 75, and it doesn't add any fulfillment whatsoever to my life. In fact, it steals from me the joy of my baby's smile. It steals from me the joy of my savior's grace.
So why do I continue to do it? It seems, I feel as if I don't worry, things won't get done. Without worry I'll never finish that to do list. I consciously know that completing that to do list will eliminate that worry, thus, I've began to use worry as a motivator. The same with a career. Looking for a job currently (during a time when they are virtually non-existent), my searching for a job comes because of the motivation that comes with worrying about it. I don't want to worry about it anymore, so I look a little harder and make it something to not be worried about.
It's about me. I have to solve my worry. It's my way of "helping" God out... taking care of it. You know that verse that says, "God helps those who help themselves," yah, it doesn't exist, but I may as well make a t-shirt that says it because that's how I live.
But what happens when I'm worrying about things that I can't fix -- the death of my family, my death, sickness, life circumstances... if I can't "fix" them, then I am unable to stop worrying about them. No motivator will fix those problems. So how am I supposed to handle them when I don't let God handle anything?
You see, He doesn't need my help to meet my needs. I don't need to feel like God needs me... I don't want to feel like God needs me. If God needed me, He wouldn't be God... I would be, and I can't handle all of that stress.
I feel like I've kind of rambled on about this, but it's really been self-discovery for me that I use worry as a motivator. Knowing this forces me to address worry as it stands in my life and allow God within me to guard my heart and my mind from worry.

The Greatest Fans in Baseball

I have finally learned first hand the purpose of a rain check. You see, it has been my experience with rain checks that they typically have nothing to do with rain. When someone asks you to dinner and you have prior arrangements, or in some cases simply do not want to go, you quip, "Oh, rain check." In other words, we'll do it some other time.

Well, Aaron and I, along with our good parent pals Brian and Jill, had tickets to Friday night's Cardinal game vs the Milwaukee Brewers. The forecast did not look great, but according to weather.com, who I have since found to be quite unreliable, there was less than a 10% chance of rain up through 10:00.

Well, long story short, at the beginning of the second inning you could see 40,000 fans watching a large dark cloud quickly move over the third base line. Notice, the beginning of the second inning, we had not even made 8:00 yet. Before we knew it everyone was huddled in the concourse awaiting news that the game had indeed been postponed and we went home to find out when the rematch would happen. (We joked that Albert and his buddies were hanging out in the Clubhouse playing Wii Sports -- you know, taking batting practice and all. Imagine it, it's really quite funny - Wii people striking out Pujols and Schumaker. Ahh, well, we thought it was funny.)

So anyway ---
#1 Greatest Fans in Baseball Moment - 40,000 fans hanging around for more than an hour to hear "the game is postponed". But this isn't the biggie.

Fast forward to Monday - the rescheduled game time.
Here we gather once more to watch the Cardinals go through eight, yes, I said eight, pitchers (that we know of, we left at the top of the 8th inning) and get a beating from the Brewers. However, one thing happened in the midst of that game that I hope to carry out in my own life. It is the epitome of being the greatest fans in baseball.

For those of you who know Braun of the Brewers - who despite his small stature and seemingly powerless frame has a pretty incredible batting average - you know he's quite the left fielder too. During last nights game, he made several amazing catches, all of which cost us several runs and the chance of even making the game a competition. After one amazing diving catch in left field the majority of those sitting near us (we have the privilege of being about 12 rows off the field, just to the right of being behind the visitors dugout) gave a standing ovation and a round of applause to this particular player as he returned to the dugout. Several men tipped their hats. What was a seemingly small gesture was really sportsmanship at it's finest.

And, me, being the analytical I am, can't help but wonder how this applies to those of us in the Christian faith. Would people look at us and consider us the greatest fans of our faith? I mean, 40,000 people who love the Cardinals (and maybe 2000 who love the Brewers) hung around for more than an hour on Friday night in hopes (and there wasn't much hope, let me tell you) that we could once again be back at our seats rooting on our teams. Many Christians I know wake up on Sunday mornings and if it's raining, they go back to bed. People spend dollar after dollar sporting all of the Cardinal attire they can - and we as Christians sometimes just find it hard to talk about Jesus. Several fans sat near us with score books. I really couldn't believe it... fans, keeping tab and tally of every move of the game. Yet we find it difficult to pick up our Bibles daily. Devout Cardinal fans can stand and applaud and support those on the other team, but we as Christians can get so stuck in our religious circles that we don't even know how to love people in the world.

Please don't misunderstand me, I'm not knocking loving Cardinal baseball, or your favorite team in general. I, myself, find baseball and hockey games to be two of my favorite things to spend my time doing. In fact, if some season tickets to either ever fell in my lap I would heed the opportunity to be one of those lunatic fans that knows everyone in all of the seats around her. I really just dig going. So I'm not knocking baseball or being a fan of it.
Instead, what I am questioning is our commitments, our priorities, because if those season tickets fell in my lap, I'd be selling or giving away Wednesday and Sunday games because I have a Jesus and a ministry He has given me that far outweigh my commitment to the Cardinals. I hope that people know that I love Jesus first, my husband second, my child a close third, friends, family, and church family, and then the Cardinals (and the Blues if we must get specific...). If people know me as a Cardinal fan before they know me as a Jesus fan, I've failed. It's that simple.

I do count it a privilege to be considered one of many of the greatest fans in baseball, but I can only pray and hope that I can one day stand before the Lord and He can greet me, "Welcome home good and faithful servant." That, my friend, is being the ultimate fan.