House Hunter's Diary- Day 103

Dear Our House,

Today, you became ours. It has been a long 103 days, but you are so worth the wait!  Knowing that today was the day that you were supposed to officially be ours, we planned on having a picnic dinner on the living room.  We had pizza from our new favorite local Italian restaurant, and Chris found a really great half-bottle of celebratory wine for us to share while we celebrated our first night as home-owners.   

I am beyond excited to move in this coming weekend!  Before we can move in, we need to tent you to make sure you are free from creepy crawlers.  You will be ready just in time for us to be able to be in our house on the night when cute little not-so-creepy crawlers will come to our front door for some cavity-makers.  We are looking forward to meeting our neighbors that night, too. 

Again, we feel that it has been a long, but painless journey to find you, and we can't wait to make you our home.

With humble appreciation for finding you,
Happy Home Owner

House Hunters Diary- Day 76

Dear Future House, We have had quite a journey over the past few weeks. Not only did I get a new job as a high-school teacher, but we have been celebrating birthdays this month, too! With so many events going on, we still have been in pursuit of finding you. In late August, we put an offer on a house that was on a half-acre property. We loved the view and the space of the backyard. We also loved that the bedrooms were so big. Some of the things that worried us were that there was no place for a dining room table (which we know we would use a lot) and the garage was not attached to the house. It was also on a street that was not lit well at night, which presented me with a slight fear of being there by myself if Chris were to be gone in the middle of the night to help a family. Even with our concerns, we went as far as having an inspection on the house. I am so glad that inspections are required, as we found out how much extra work needed to be done with that house. We aren't scared of doing projects, but that house was more of a money pit than we thought it would be. So, we moved on and continued our search. The next house that we put an offer on was a cute older home built in the 1940s. It was redone and had new appliances in the kitchen. It was a charming, unique house with a beautiful backyard. It was also close to Chris' work! Chris loved it, but I couldn't wrap my head around how small the bedrooms were. I know that sounds materialistic, but it was just too difficult to picture sleeping in a tiny cramped room. There was not a lot of space to grow, unless we wanted to spend money on an addition. The garage was nice, but, like the previous house, it was separated from the house. We put in an offer (which was at the top of our budget), and the seller came back with a counter offer that was 14,000 more than our already very generous offer. We decided that it wasn't worth the price they were asking and moved on to the next house. After the older, overpriced house, we found a house that was gutted at redone. Everything was brand new! The rooms were a good size, the master bathroom was amazing, and the kitchen was charming! There was so much room in the backyard, that we could have a garden, a pool, and a large lawn that would provide our future puppy with a place to poop. We got an accepted offer on the house! In the meantime, I was waking up at night thinking of what we would need to compromise in order to live in that house. The guest rooms were in the front of the house, so if we had foster children, they would be more vulnerable in their rooms. I was also having trouble figuring out where to put the dining room table. Again, knowing that we would use it often, I knew that was something that would be difficult to compromise. I also did some crime mapping on the area and found out that it wasn't as safe as we thought it might be. So, something posessed me to get on Zillow and look in places that were out of the confines of zip codes that our agent applied to our search. I looked in Bonita, Chula Vista, and Lemon Grove. There was a place in Lemon Grove that caught my eye, and I asked our agent to go see it that same day that I found it on Zillow. He met me at the house that morning, and I couldn't believe how blessed I was to have found the home. It was everything I wanted in a home. I called Chris to tell him that he needed to see it. After going back later that afternoon, we decided to put an offer on the house. It was $17,000 less than the newer house in the scary neighborhood! We had to decide whether it was worth letting go of the potential of continuing the home-buying process with the new home or not, since, we couldn't be considered for an offer on the Lemon Grove house if we were in escrow with the newer house in the scary neighborhood. We put our faith in the Lemon Grove house and let go of the other. We became very nervous after we didn't hear from the sellers for over two days. We had to let go and trust that if it was meant to be, it would be. After church on Sabbath, we got an e-mail that our offer was accepted. We are currently in escrow with, what I hope is you, Future House. Yesterday, we had an inspection. I haven't seen the report yet, but I hope that there aren't any major things wrong that we can't handle. We are prepared to fix your bathrooms and make them our own. I am looking fowrad to planting new and beautiful plants in your front and back. I will need some advice on what plants will be nice around a backyard with a pool. With all the excitement that has been going on while we try to find you (and I hope we already have), I have felt so blessed to know that, wherever we end up living, we will be able to extend what we have to our friends and family. Our future house will be a place to make memories with each other and with those we love. That is what I am looking forward to more than anything else. With hope that we have finally found you, Hopeful House Hunter

House Hunter's Diary- Day 28

Dear Future House,

Well, we haven't found you yet.  The agents accepted an offer from someone else on the last house.  We were a bit disappointed, but are sure that you will be even more fabulous.  Now, we know not to start picking out furniture and/or planning what to do with the backyard before we hear the words, "funded and recorded."

Tomorrow, we are going to look at a house close to the office.  It has a pool, but needs a lot of work inside.  Like I told you before, we aren't afraid of fixing any parts of you that need a bit more work, as long as you have a good structure and foundation.

Don't worry, little house, we're coming to get you. 

Sincerely,

Hopeful House Hunter

House Hunters Diary- Day 19

Dear Future House,

After taking a trip to see two houses, today, we might have found you.  The first house was in a very nice neighborhood, but had a very small yard on the edge of a hill and needed a lot of internal work. The second house we saw was a nice house with double-pane windows, large rooms, and a yard large enough for a four-seasons garden, a pool, a bocce ball court, and Chris' much desired, future Great Dane to run around and tear up all of it.  

Even though the neighborhood of the second house wasn't as cookie-cutter in aesthetics as the first one was (probably because the first one had HOA fees), we feel that the quality of the people in the neighborhood won our hearts.  We were blessed to have been able to meet the people who live next door. They were people with whom we'd like to play cards or have afternoon tea on the back patio, since all of the backyards in the area surrounding us are beautifully designed.  We must have looked nice in our church clothes, because the couple practically begged us to buy the house, as they were older and were afraid of whom might become their "new neighbors." They told us how much they enjoy the neighborhood. The woman told me that the house across the street apparently goes all out with "Disneyland style" decorations for Christmas.  When she said that, a mickey-shaped halo and little choir "ahhhhhhs" surrounded the house for sale.  Since being able to be friendly with our future neighbors is important, we were happy to know that there are nice people around. We were also very happy to have been able to meet people who have lived in the neighborhood since it was established in the early 1970s and who love it there!

So, after our experience with the second house,  we put in an offer for what might be you.  I know that I shouldn't get my hopes up, so if it is you, I will be very happy. If not, I will be a bit disappointed, but I will accept that we just haven't found you yet and will keep on looking. 

Sincerely,

Hopeful House Hunter

Beginning of the Sapphire Garden

Seven years ago, I pulled in to a church parking lot at 7:00AM on a Saturday to pray with a group that would be driving down to Mexico to build a home for a family that was living in very, very poor conditions. I was asked to go on the trip with the group, but was unable to go due to a conflict in my work schedule. 

The group that was going to Mexico was packing their camping gear, and I was waiting patiently for the prayer to begin. A very nice couple asked me who I was "seeing off," and I replied that I had just come to the church to pray with the group. They asked me what my name is, and after I told them, we realized that they knew of and had gone to school with some of my dad's family. The song, "It's a Small World After All" started playing it's tune in my head. I think I even started hearing the little Dutch children sing.

While chatting with them, a nice-looking young man came up and told his mom and dad "hello".  He and I exchanged names and started talking about our involvement in theater productions.  At that point in time, we had two things in common: we enjoy doing mission work and we have fun participating in theater productions. 

I didn't see that man until seven months later, when I sat directly behind him at the church's Christmas program. He played trombone and I did an interpretive dance during the program.  For the first half of the program, I knew I had seen him before, but I didn't know from where.  When I looked at his name in the program, I remembered that he was the guy I talked to in the parking lot before the Mexico trip.  Luckily, he turned around to shake my hand during the "greet and shake hands with everyone in your general-vicinity" part of the program.  Throughout the rest of the program, when I looked at him, I smiled one of those smiles that made me almost embarrassed to smile.  After the program was over, he and I chatted, but we didn't make plans to see each other again. So, I was left to wonder if/when I would see him again.

We saw each other occasionally at church, but never did he attempt to get my number or ask to see me outside of church.  I figured he wasn't interested.

Starting in January of the next year, I got an instant message from him. At the time, I didn't know how he got my e-mail address, but I was glad he did.  (He later told me that it was quite an ordeal to find my e-mail address.) The first chat we had was quite long.  However, there was still no mention of seeing each other outside of church or cyberspace.

One day, I was on my computer at a coffee shop that was walking-distance from where I lived.  I liked to go there to create my lesson plans and grade papers and assignments.  Since I had access to the internet, I had my instant message opened.  I didn't know that the sound was up on my computer, so I was startled when I heard the instant-message sound.  It was him. 

After chatting for a while, he asked what I was doing that evening.  I told him I was busy grading at the coffee shop, to which he answered that he would come keep me company.  I believe that was the night that we finally exchanged phone numbers. 

Needless to say, I didn't get a lot of work done that night.  We ended up going to a quieter place to chat.   It was a really romantic setting, with little white twinkle lights. However, it didn't really feel like a typical date. It felt more like we were friends hanging out together.  

The following weeks after that, he started calling me more often and showed up places where I was.  He even brought me a picnic lunch at work.

In mid May of 2007, he told me to hold a ticket for him to come and see the high school musical theater show that I choreographed that year.  After he picked up his ticket, the student who worked at the box office left her post to come ask me who "Chris" was. I said he was my friend, and she gave me that head-tilted, eye-brow-raised incredulous look that only a high-school girl can give.  She thought we were more, or that we needed to be more, than friends.   That evening, after the show, he could probably tell how stressed I was, because he told me that he was going to take me wherever I wanted to go and do whatever I wanted to do.  

We ended up getting gourmet pizza and going to a park.  It "just so happened" that he had a couple of glasses and a bottle of wine in the back of his car (which isn't too far fetched, as he worked in the wine industry).  We enjoyed our time together at the park.  I started to have feelings for him that night, but since he didn't even try to hold my hand, I was unsure about his feelings for me. 

A couple weeks later, I found Irises on my car before my Dance Performance class's final show.  He came to the show and even had the chance to meet my dad for the first time.  After the show was over, my dad asked me why I wasn't dating him.  I told my dad that we were just friends and that he wasn't really "my type."  "Well, how is  your type working out for you?" he replied.  He had a point.  I hate when that happens.

That evening, I thought I would give it a chance to try to see him as more than just a friend.  I felt like I wanted to be more, but, even with the constant attention and seemingly romantic situations we were in, I wasn't really getting the vibe from him that he wanted to be anything more. 

When he met me at the after-performance party for my dance students, he and I set up what would be our actual first date.

On June 6, 2007, he picked me up at 7:00AM and took me on a "surprise day" that he had planned.  Our first stop was the Monterey Bay Aquarium.  The whole time that we were in the aquarium, he got close to me, but didn't try to hold my hand.   We took our first "official" picture together while sitting in a giant, cement clam shell.

After the aquarium, we went to Starbucks to get something warm to drink.  I was addicted to sugar-free hazelnut lattes, so that is what I ordered. After ordering, I attempted to move out of the way, and my hand slid next to his.  I will never forget the surge of energy that shot up my arm in that moment.  If I were to guess what people mean by "having chemistry", I am pretty sure that the surge of energy was the first sign that we had "chemistry." That isn't something that happens everyday. 

When we got our hot drinks and left Starbucks, he reached for my hand and held it as we walked around Canary Row and then up to a lookout point.  I thought for sure he'd try to kiss me, since it was the perfect time and place to do so. He didn't. 

He must have known that I needed a bit of a "challenge" at that point in my dating life.  Of course, once we left that lookout point, I started to get discouraged and questioned why I was even on that "date", since I was leaving for a 2-week European vacation and moving to Orange County later that same month.  I thought that maybe, since he knew I was moving, he didn't want to start anything romantic.  I later found out that I was very wrong.

When we finished our stroll along the lookout point, we got in the car and went to dinner. He took me to a lovely little restaurant in Carmel, where we sat outside on a beautiful patio.  It was the perfect date day, but I was still confused about the intention of the day. 

After having a gooey cookie, in a cast-iron skillet, for dessert, we took a walk around Carmel.  By that time, we were comfortable holding hands. He even gave me his arm to hold (what a gentleman).  I took his arm and laid my head on his shoulder as we walked down the streets of Carmel together. 

Being that I was drinking coffee around the clock at that point in my life, we stopped into a cute little coffee shop to get something hot to drink. Then, we stopped at a little bench and sat there while the sun started to set. He put one arm around me, and I snuggled my head into his neck (which made it difficult to drink my yummy coffee). We had a really nice view of the shoreline and the horizon.  It was like something from a movie.  I guess movies get their ideas from the most amazing parts of real life.

It was a bit windy, which helped with having an excuse to get close to each other. As we cuddled, my mind kept reminding me that I was going to be leaving in a few weeks, and that I was just starting to feel comfortable with being on my own.  I was finally at peace with not having a significant other.  Of course, I had been told that it is when you aren't looking for it that it happens.  Whoever told me that was right. 

We sat on the bench until just before the sky started changing color. Then, we stood up, held hands, and walked down to the beach.  We both faced the water and he had his arms around me.  I don't know what he was thinking, but I was on the fence about whether I wanted him to kiss me or not.  One side of me wanted him to, because I started to have feelings for him. The other side didn't want me to, because I started to have feelings for him. 

He tipped me to one side of the fence when he turned me around, looked me in the eye, smiled, and kissed me.  I said a few curse words in my head, because I knew I was in trouble.  During that moment, I had accepted that the last piece of the puzzle that would show me the picture of whether to move forward with pursuing this relationship as more than just friends.  Little did I know that nine months later, he would propose to me at the very same spot where we shared our first kiss.

Over the course of our nine-month relationship, our feelings for each other grew in different ways. With each phone conversation, short weekend together during our long-distance relationship, and opportunity to overcome the tests of our relationship, we found "seeds" that we planted when we decided to pursue and cultivate a life-long commitment to each other.

That is the beginning of what has now become our Sapphire Garden.

This year, that amazing man and I celebrated our 5th anniversary.  Even though I am not a jewelry person, I do know that the jewel that is associated with the fifth year of marriage is the sapphire.  The deep blue sapphire signifies faithfulness, truth, and sincerity.  This new year in our relationship has presented itself with opportunities to grow in these areas. 

It is the year that I have promised him to be supportive in our growing faith.  It is the year that I have found the truth about what our marriage represents because of our faith.  It is the year that we can be honest about who we are, with humbled and passionate sincerity, because we are loved by God and by each other.   This year, the marriage garden that which we committed to tending five years ago, blossoms with all that is represented by the sapphire.


Good Mourning

"Through humor, you can soften some of the worst blows that life delivers. And once you find laughter, no matter how painful your situation might be, you can survive it." -Bill Cosby

Those of us who have been to a funeral or ceremony for a loved one who has passed do not usually associate laughter with one of those occasions.

However, in the almost two months that I have been working at the mortuary, I have heard more genuine tears and laughter here than I have heard anywhere else. 

One of the things I love about being at the mortuary is knowing that, when people laugh while they are making arrangements, my dad or my husband has been able to bring them a new perspective on their suffering and grief- a good mourning- even if it is just for a brief moment.

With the many different families that I have seen come to the mortuary to make arrangements, visit their loved one, or attend a funeral, I have learned that it is important to allow people to grieve in their own way and in their own time. I also have learned that people appreciate it when we are lucky enough to catch those rare, reassuring words of hope or triggers of fond memories.  It will not cure their grief, but it could sooth it for a short time, like liniment on aching muscles.  It is nice when that happens, because we have made someone's possibly difficult day, better. 

It is interesting how someone else's laughter-even if they are strangers- can make my own heart so happy.  That human connection is one of many reasons that I know there is a bigger picture to the little dots and streaks of paint I see in front of me.  It is the reason I know that there is a light after the darkness, a smile after the tears, and a Good Mourning after the Night.

House Hunter's Diary- Day 10

Dear Future Home,

You sure require a lot of paperwork. We ran into a bit of a snafu yesterday because the loan people couldn't understand why I would take a huge pay cut when I moved to San Diego. They thought that the only reason I would move and accept the pay cut was that I was laid off. I had some 'splaining to do.  Our broker asked us to write a letter of explanation about why we chose to leave what we had and move to San Diego.  I guess people just don't understand that people can actually drop what they have to answer a calling or that they can care about their family enough to give up comfort and money in order to assist them through a transition.  I guess this isn't how most people operate.  It isn't like we are not getting things worth more than money in return.  I guess tangible assets are easier to grasp (pardon the pun) than those that are internal.

So, we are still waiting to be approved for the loan that we need to purchase you.  Be patient with us.  We are anxious to find you and take care of you.  I know that I will be excited to use your backyard space to plant some food for us. Thanks to Pinterest, I have some really amazing garden plans for the backyard! Hope you can handle all of it.

Sincerely,
Hopeful House Hunter

A Rose By Any Other Name

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet; so Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title."

A few years ago, when I was teaching 9th grade, one of the administrators asked, "Why do we still teach Romeo and Juliet? It is just a story about two horny teenagers, that was written by an ancient, dead, white man." Although I can understand what she was trying to tell me, I was so sad that she didn't know how many universal, timeless, and modernly-applicable treasures were hidden- by that ancient, dead, white guy- in his drama that taught us about selfishness in motives and desires, pain of pride, evils of stereotypical identifications, loyalty in friendships, and destruction through deception.

One of the major themes of Romeo and Juliet is that labels can determine one's fate. The drama implies that the labels themselves do not determine the fate, but rather how people think and act towards someone due to his/her label can be a determining factor of what happens to a person in his/her life.  In the case of Romeo, his fate was affected because he had the label of the last name of Montague.  Anyone with the label of Montague was not allowed to associate with anyone who had the label of Capulet.  Not only were they not allowed to associate with a Capulet, but they actually were supposed to harbor and act of out hate towards them. It had nothing to do with what an individual looked like, his/her race, or personality. The name association determined who they could love and who they were supposed to hate. 

So, when Romeo, a Montague, fell "in love" (I put this in quotations because there is much doubt about how their feelings should be defined. However, this is an entirely different lesson.) with Juliet, a Capulet, and she fell "in love" with him, their names presented quite a, as Shakespeare puts it, "death-marked" problem.  Their titles determined their realities.  

On a much, much less dramatic, but nonetheless similar note, I have had quite the title reality-check yesterday. I had to write a new title on an application.  In "occupation," I didn't write teacher.  It was very strange that I felt both freedom and sadness for the replacement of a title I associated with myself, so deeply, for so long.

I felt freedom because I know how much that title defined me (from myself and from others).  It was difficult for me to know who I was without that title. For a while, it was almost as if I needed to get to know myself all over again, so that I could have some knowledge of who I was without that title. 

However, I felt sadness because I really loved my time as a teacher.  It was what I was supposed to do when I was supposed to do it, and I felt the truth in that fact with every fiber of my being.

Many of the experiences that helped shape who I have become were because I was a teacher. I met people who wouldn't have been in my life if I was not a teacher.  I learned things that I wouldn't have learned if I was not a teacher.  A big part of my life's experiences revolved around the fact that I was a teacher. 

It wasn't until I became something other than a teacher that I realized that, even though the term hold a special place as what I've done, I am so much more than a teacher. Over the past month, I have learned things about myself that I didn't know I had in me.  I have embraced this time to learn and develop these qualities, and I know that I am where I need to be in order to do so.  

Similarly, as Juliet pointed out, if I called a rose something else, it would not change the characteristics of the rose. The rose would look the same, smell the same, and be the same- even if I chose to call it something else.  Without the title of teacher, I still have the same qualities that make me who I am. 

There might be a day when I again will have the title of teacher, but I know that, even though I don't have that title, I still am who I am.  Who I am is someone who likes to serve others. That is why I loved teaching. That is why I love what I am doing now. It provides a humbling, very quiet confidence to know that, any title I have now or in the future will not change that. 

*Dedicated to Miss Rose, whose family inspired today's entry by solidifying for me that I am where I need to be, in this moment in time.

House Hunters Diary- Day 2

Dear Future House,

Please don't take this the wrong way, but, I have a feeling that you are playing hide and seek with me.  Our matchmaker showed us a lot of your friends today, but I don't think you were in that group. Some of your friends were far away from work. Most of your friends that we can afford are "mobile."  My husband and I both agreed that we wouldn't mind taking care of one of your "mobile" friends, but others we have talked to about it seem to think it isn't a good idea.  One of your friends was really nice. It had a lot of space and a very nice pool, but had a freeway right behind the wall of the backyard! Oh well.

So, where are you hiding?  I know it is only day 2 of the process, but there is something you need to know about me.  I have been waiting for you for a very long time, and I am ready to find you and take care of you.

If you need some new "outfits," we are willing to clean and dress you up. Just make sure that you have a good foundation and are not hiding anything creepy from us. That's all we ask.

We will continue to look for where you are hiding.  

Sincerely,
Hopeful House Hunter

House Hunters Diary- Day 1

Dear Future House,

My husband and I officially started the process of finding you today, as we met with the person who is going to guide us through this "rollercoaster" of the home-buying process.  I feel very comfortable with him, which is a good thing, because he has a ridiculous amount of my information! 

Over the past couple weeks, my husband and I have been gathering all of the paperwork necessary to find out how much we will be able to spend on you.  I have been checking Zillow once in a while, but I probably should stop doing that until I find out how much we can spend on you. One thing I appreciate about my husband is that, he and I are on the same page about being excited about owning you, but we are very adamant about not wanting you to own us. Sorry about that.

There isn't much to report right now, but we have started the process. Hope to meet you soon.

Sincerely,
Hopeful House-Hunter

Epiphany for the Day

We all have asked it before.  Sometimes, we ask out of confusion, while other times, we ask out of curiosity.  Sometimes we ask out of anger, while other times, we ask out of appreciation for new knowledge. 

When I taught 2-3 year-olds, I would be asked this question many times out of curiosity.  While teaching Jr. High, I would hear the question be asked less out of curiosity, and more out of anger. As I continue to emerge into adulthood, I have noticed that, as people get older, the question seems to trap itself inside their heads and is mostly asked, not out of a genuine curiosity, but because they need justification when something "bad" happens.

The question is "Why?"

Why did he/she do that?
Why did I do that?
Why don't I have this?
Why do I have this?
Why can't they just understand?
Why did this happen to me?
Why didn't this happen to me?
Why can't I have that?
Why...Why...Why?

I rarely ask these questions when things are going well.  I wonder why that is? (Sorry, I couldn't help myself.)
 
It is usually when I didn't like the situation-when it wasn't going the way that I thought it should- that I would ask these questions.  Somehow, the situation or idea needed justification, and I had a difficult time accepting it if I didn't have an answer.  If only I knew why, then things would have been more settled for me.

Today, I thought of the age-old question, "If God exists, why do bad things happen?" It is a very, very valid question, and it is one that I am not intimidated to answer anymore. In order to begin to answer that question, I would need to return that question with many, many other questions. It would take patience, but I enjoy engaging in that type of conversation.  I don't know if I have the answer, but I know what I believe. 

The interesting thing about the question "why?" is that, the more I find some answers, the less I am asking that question when other situations do not go my way. 

I feel like, when I ask "why?" now,  I doing it more out of a child-like wonder or curiosity than a need to justify a situation. Even though I don't know why I feel this way, it does give me peace.

Singin' the Brews

For the past two weeks, I have been on a little adventure.   Those of you who know my addiction to coffee are probably not going to believe that for two weeks, I have only had one cup of regular coffee.  The interesting thing about that one cup is that I didn't even finish it.  I couldn't finish it. It just didn't taste good to me anymore.  This really freaked me out.  It isn't that I am denying myself regular coffee- I have had opportunities to have it if I wanted it.  No one was holding me accountable- not even myself. 

I just found something I like better, and, according to my acupuncturist (who is thrilled that I am not drinking regular coffee), it is actually better for me than regular coffee.  In fact, she said that the reishi mushroom/ganoderma spores and extract has many health benefits for me. Those of you who know about ancient Chinese herbs will probably know what it is.  It is difficult for me to explain, but I can say that I enjoy the taste of the drink and I am more alert, but much calmer than I was when I was drinking regular coffee. 

It makes me want to put my hand in the air and sing,"I've got the I-don't-need-to-worry-about-making-coffee-without-a-coffee-maker-becase-all-I-need-to-do-is-put-the-packet-in-a-mug-and-add-hot-or-warm-water, and I-am-feeling-so-much-better-since-I-stopped-drinking-regular-coffee brew-hews-uh."  

If you are interested in finding out more about what I have been drinking, you can go to the following link, select the country/language you want, select Products, then beverages, and see the details: Singin the Brews.

Put the Mirror Down - A Poem in Progress

I sit in a constant courtroom,
and I listen to the witness testimonies for my case.

Some witnesses are there with the intention to save me.

Some are there to condemn.

But, they only know their side of my story,

so their witness accounts and their motives, 
good or bad,
 are of inconsequence to the verdict.

They like to talk anyway, and I patiently listen. Sometimes, I learn something.

The judge catches my eye during each testimony,

trying to make me feel guilt by

nodding in agreement when the stories are full of shame,

and looking incredulous when they are full of praise.

 

When I can't bear the looks from the judge any longer,
I cry out for the One with the pierced hands.

 

The One with the pierced hands takes the mirror off the wall in front of me-

causing the judge that was staring back at me
to no longer be able to tempt me
into the sin of self-judgment or self-aggrandizement.

The judge- the mirror- my identity- is put on the ground.

It is then that I can clearly see the face of the One with the pierced hands.

Sometimes, I put the mirror back up, wanting to prove myself
 to the judge and those in the courtroom.
When I put the mirror back up,

the One with the pierced hands is patient.
 

I am always able to put the mirror back up,
but I am not strong enough to take it down on my own.
 

He knows this and will take it down when I ask Him to,
but he gives me the gift of choice to put it up and leave it up as I choose.

He will never force me to take it down.
He is too loving for that.
 

He knows I am better without the mirror.
I just need to realize that truth and stop putting it back up.

Once in a while, witnesses share with me their side of my case.
But, they don't know all sides of my story.

They try to convince the mirror that I should do things the way they see it should be.
 

Sometimes, they don't know that the mirror isn't there.

They don't know that- when the mirror is down- the judge they talk to,
when they give their side,
 is the One with the pierced hands,

and He listens to them while He smiles at me.

 

My "Holden Caulfield" Experience

There have been a few times in my life when my past and present have decided to meet for a coffee date together. Ironically, they had a date this morning while I was in an actual coffee shop in Mission Valley.  While meeting with one of my colleagues and friends, who was visiting San Diego on vacation, in walked one of the actors from the theater show I did when I lived here 10 years ago.  He changed a lot, going from a full head of thick hair to almost none.  It made me wonder how different I must have looked to him. I am amazed how quickly some things change within  what seems like a short amount of time.  Watching two people, from different times in my life, shake hands in a coffee shop (that I used to go to quite often 10 years ago) helped me realize how much I have changed over the past few years.  Moments like this happen. They are moments that I have affectionately called, a "Holden Caulfield" experience.

Those of you who have read J.D. Salinger's Catcher in the Rye might understand the title and main idea of this entry.  For those of you who have not been introduced to the story's main character, Holden Caulfield, I will give you a brief explanation of why I choose to call moments like today, a "Holden Caulfield" experience. It has been a while since I have read the story, so forgive me if the details are a bit blurry.

Throughout the story, Holden is in the process of transforming from boyhood to manhood. This transformation takes place while he walks through a tunnel of cynicism.  He questions the adult world's "phoniness" and rebels against having the qualities that the adults in his life possess. I don't know about you, but there have been times in my life when I went through that stage where I was determined to be opposite of the person whose qualities I despised.  Sometimes, teetering too far in the opposite direction throws me off balance from who I really am- just like it did for Holden.

Since I do not want to write a plot or character analysis, I will just say that I think his climax into the realization that he really is growing up happened when he went to the Museum of Natural History.  On his way to the museum and while he is there,  he realizes that the museum never changes- that the only thing that would be different when he goes to the museum is himself. 

With the exception of the people working there and the new types of teas, the coffee shop looked exactly the same as it did when I started going there 10 years ago.  Just being there might have sparked a "Holden Caulfield" experience for me, but seeing someone from my most resent past and my more distant past together in this place made me realize that I have entered the "Museum of San Diego," and I have noticed how much I have changed since the last time I was in that coffee shop (as well as San Diego, for that matter).  

There may be many more times that I have this experience. Some might be more pleasant than others. Just like, because he had changed, some of the things that Holden saw in the museum made him angry, there are things around me might trigger the same emotion.  As long as I remember that the experiences I had, have, and will continue to have, will lead me to allowing my true self to flourish, I think that the museums in my life will be equally pleasant experiences for me in the future.

Shredding and Shedding

Many people who know me well know that I thrive on multi-tasking. It is easier for me to accomplish something if I have other things going on simultaneously- especially if the initial task at hand is a tedious one.

This past week, I was given the task to shred a bag full of papers. Anyone who has had this task knows that the monotonously spastic rhythm of the buzzing of the machine is enough to drive anyone, who is paying attention, crazy! I knew I needed a distraction, but I didn't know what I could do while shredding, since my hands would be busy. 

The light-bulb of good ideas haloed above my head as I remembered that I brought my Thigh Master to work.  Knowing that I would be sitting a lot more than I am used to, I thought that it would be important to have something to do to help stimulate the blood flow in my legs. I couldn't think of anything better to accomplish this than to have my Thigh Master at work, since it would stimulate blood flow while I could, as the commercial says, "squeeze, squeeze, squeeze" my way "to shapely hips and thighs."  So, I walked back to my desk to retrieve the Thigh Master.

I am really glad that no one was there on an appointment or visitation, because it would have looked very strange for me to walk through the hallways of a mortuary with a bright-blue figure-eight-shaped object that is almost the size of my entire arm.

Once I got in a comfortable position and gave myself a couple test squeezes, I continued my task of shredding while attempting to shed some weight.  

While shredding, I didn't realize that the Thigh Master made a creaking sound because of the loud sound the shredder made.  Interestingly enough, I realized that it squeaks with each squeeze and release when I was trying to be patient while waiting for some papers to be delivered to my desk, so that I could enter them into the computer and have the family proof the document I typed.  So, while my husband was in the other room with a family, I slowly and, as quietly as I could, put the Thigh Master in place and started to squeeze. If sound could be heard in slow motion, this was the moment that it would have happened.  It might have been because I was trying to be quiet that I took longer to squeeze it together.  There was no doubt that everyone in the other room heard the squeak.  As embarrassed as I would have been if I had just let a big one rip (even though I know that girls don't do that), I quickly yanked the Thigh Master out of place and started opening drawers to make whoever might have heard me think that they heard the drawer squeak. Since that moment, I only use it when no one else is around.

The rest of the week, I tried to think of how better to utilize my Thigh Master during the day.  So far, I have felt like it has made a difference to have it at work.  It helps make typing data and doing other important, but tedious, tasks much more pleasant. This is one spoon-full-of-sugar that makes the some of my tedious "medicine"- and with more consistent use, my pounds- go down.

Fun with Friends and Family

It feels strange to be at work on a Friday after a holiday. It feels strange to be at work on the fifth of July, period (being that I have had July 5th off for the past ten years).  

Luckily, my boss (who some of you might not know, is my dad) was nice enough to give me the day off, yesterday. Even though there were many exciting places to go to in San Diego, I think I had more fun staying home and spending time with my family and friends. 

I was able to spend time with my sister, yesterday. She and I have an affinity for playing games. We are quite the power-team for Catch Phrase, but I learned that it is almost impossible to be successful in a game of Scattegories when she is playing, too.  Even with our very contrasted personalities and interests, she and I share a brain.  During another time in our lives, someone thought it was so strange how we would answer questions at the same time, with the same voice inflection. So, he decided to see just how similar our brains were by giving us each a piece of paper and a pen, telling us a word, and waiting for us to write down which word came to mind when we heard the word he said. We got most of the same answers, but the one that really stood out was when he said the word airplane.  Both my sister and I wrote Tylenol as the word that came to mind when we heard the word airplane. Usually, people do not associate the word airplane with Tylenol; my sister and I do. This is the reason I know that we share a brain. So, playing Scattegories, (a game where, if you match answers with someone, you lose points) with her was fun because if validated that "we've still got it," but was complicating my ability to win the game. I'm pretty sure I will get over that, though.  I would not trade sharing a brain with my sister for winning a game of Scattegories.

One of my friends also came over to visit, and she brought her adorable little girl. (It is so fun to watch friends become parents! I loved listening to my friend being called "mommy".)  My friend and I spent a lot of time together when I was in my early twenties.  She is one of the most giving people I know.  When I needed a place to stay until the end of the 2004-2005 school year, she allowed me to live at her house. Since all of the rooms at her house were full, she offered me her couch. Even though I didn't have a bedroom to sleep in, I was so thankful to have had the opportunity to stay with her for almost three months. Ironically, that time in my life contained some of my fondest memories. Because of my time with my friend, I learned how to play drums, had a sushi-making party, and wrote some very deep poetry on cocktail napkins. She and I have many memories together, and I am really looking forward to making more.

It is the end of my third week living in San Diego, and I am feeling very, very good about being here. It was a difficult decision to make, but with some of the recent memories that I've been able to make with my "old" friends and family and knowing that there are more to come (along with the fact that work has been an incredible adventure), it becomes more apparent that it was the right decision.

My Freedom in Dependence

As Americans celebrate their freedom on their Independence Day- I am reminded of my freedom in being dependent on what Christ has done for me.  I know I cannot be "good enough" to be worthy of the perfection of heaven (more on this in a future blog entry called "Life Preservers"), so I have put my faith in the loving sacrifice of Jesus and his promise to be the replacement for my sinful life. It is not an excuse to do whatever I want. When I think of the freedom I have in Christ, part of that freedom reminds me of the freedom that I have in my marriage.

Just like in my joining someone else's life through marriage, I am free from many things, and there are also some "freedoms" that I no longer have in my life. Some of the things I no longer do because I am married are "freedoms" that I might miss during my selfish times, but they are "freedoms" that I can and probably should live without.  When I remember that having a relationship with Christ and depending on Him provides the ultimate freedom through a mutual love, I am not worried about what I can and can't do. In my dependence on Him, I feel (and am) free. 

The following song is a beautiful way to express how Christians are free in our dependence.

Youtube version of the song (for auditory people): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_CJX4NT6jMw

Lyrics of the song (for visual people): 

So long I had searched for life's meaning,

Enslaved by the world and my greed;

Then the door of the prison was opened by love,

For the ransom was paid - I was free.
I'm free from the fear of tomorrow,

I'm free from the guilt of the past;

For I've traded my shackles for a glorious song,

I'm Free! Praise the Lord! Free at last!

I'm free from the guilt that I carried,

From that dull empty life I'm set free;

For when I met Jesus,

He made me complete,

He forgot how foolish I used to be.

[ From: http://www.metrolyrics.com/im-free-lyrics-bill-gaither.html ]

A Wedding and A Funeral

Last Sunday, I went to the wedding of my precious cousin, Lauren.  The wedding and the bride were both absolutely beautiful.  When I walked into the place where the ceremony was held, the smell of lavender soothed my nostrils, while the beautiful purple flowers, that complemented the brown twigs laced with white lights, tickled my eyes, making them crinkle in giddy delight.

At the start of the wedding, the music for the entrance of the family members consisted of Disney's princess songs, and Lauren walked down the isle to "So This Is Love" from Cinderella.  I might be biased because she is my cousin, but it is my opinion that Lauren was so lovely that she put all of the Disney princesses to shame.  

I know that there was a lot of time and love that went into the planning and the execution of such a memorable event.  Everything from the ceremony to the reception foods were chosen to represent the couple's relationship and their individual personalities. Not only did they have two cakes (one traditional and one groom's cake that represented her new husband very accurately), but they also served Dairy Queen Blizzards, since their first date was at Dairy Queen. It is nice to walk away from a wedding and feel that the event helped me get to know the couple, and their story, better.

This evening, four days after my cousin's wedding, Christopher and I helped a family by directing our first funeral service together.  Like many new adventures, I was nervous that I wouldn't know what to do, or that I would be in the way too much.  The nervous bundle of ice was broken when I saw that some people were checking out the casket/urn room before the service, and I asked if they had any questions. (I must not have thought about what I was saying, as I don't know what I would have said if they actually had any real questions.)  One of the men said, "Well, I hope not. I don't plan on needing one of these any time soon."  His humourous aura helped me relax.  I told him that I hoped he didn't either, and then pointed to one of the caskets and told him that it was the casket I had chosen when I was a little girl.  Knowing that he had a sense of humor, I continued the conversation by telling him that it was the one that I used to play hide-and-seek in when I was little.  Needless to say, the rest of the conversation was very interesting, and by the end of it, he chose his favorite casket.

I didn't know how much I would actually enjoy being there for a family during the service for their loved one. Sometimes, I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded my head and gave, what I hoped was, a reassuring smile. With all of the new things I have done over the past two weeks, being directly involved with helping the families is my favorite.

Once the service started, I had time to notice how beautiful the flowers were and how the family really seemed to enjoy each other's company.  Ironically, it made me think of the fact that there are similarities between weddings and funerals, so I started a list of things they have in common.

Here is my list (feel free to make additions in the comments section):
There are beautiful flower arrangements.

The type of service depends on the culture, religion, or special unique preferences of who the ceremony is for.

The family gets together: sometimes, these are the only two events where families see each other.

Only certain members are involved in planning the event.

Sometimes, it is more about the guests who attend than about who is being celebrated.

People are dealing with high emotions (crying happens in both).


*For the record, I am not comparing my cousin's wedding to a funeral.  I am comparing funerals, in general, to weddings, in general.