Saturday is my dad's birthday. I might have gotten him a birthday present on Monday and failed to mail it out until today. Today is Friday. No. My dad will not be receiving his gift on time. I'm not sure he's gotten an on time gift for Father's Day or his birthday since... well. A long time.
My dad is a good man.
I remember him going out late to work on substations during thunderstorms and being scared in my room until he came home. Not that our town of 800 people wasn't safe. It just felt safer when he was home.
I remember the first time he showed me how to program the game "Mastermind" in C++ on our computer and how proud he was of me for basically just doing what he said to do. But I remember that I felt like a genius the first time we played it.
I remember my senior prom. I had a red dress that I found for $35 at DEB and I was SUPER excited about it. My dad looked at me and told me that I was just beautiful and I looked like a princess.
I remember when he was talking of his buddies who only has sons. My dad felt sorry for him because my dad's friend would never get the pride and privilege of walking a daughter down the aisle. My dad, who fought in the Vietnam War and is possibly one of the smartest people I know, said his proudest moment was getting to walk my sister down the aisle.
I remember how he called me, heart-broken, worried about how I was doing the day I left my house for good and the life as I formerly knew it was over. And how he told me anything I needed, he would do it.
I've seen the effects of having a bad father or no father on some of the girls that I've worked with over the years, but I forget a lot to tell my dad how much I love him and how much I appreciate that he was there. At every basketball game. At all of my figure skating tournaments, surrounded by crazy moms and a lot of hairspray. He was there when my volleyball team won the championship and I made the all-star team. He was there when we got crushed by 30 in the final and I never wanted to play basketball again.
So happy birthday, Dad. I love you.
(and sorry your present is late. again.)
1.27.2012
1.22.2012
protected.
I don't like to admit this much (so the appropriate place to talk about this is definitely on the internets), but I am scared. I can't watch shows like Criminal Minds and Law and Order: SVU or any scary movie because I don't sleep well afterwards. I've become a light sleeper, worried about every little noise.
The experience of being threatened physically is pretty horrifying. Especially when it comes from someone who is supposed to love you and protect you.
So this weekend, when the pastor said:
Love means protecting and providing.
It hit me.
I was sitting between two of my best friends and I realized how grateful I was to both of them for the way that they have - probably unknowingly - protected me.
They hold doors.
They drive because I hate it.
They put in drywall anchors even if it will be the death of them.
They cook dinner with me.
They come over to be around when I'm really just being paranoid.
They challenge me to be a better woman, a better leader, a better Christ-follower.
I write a lot when things are bad. How tough life is. How God must still be good in all of it. And I forget a lot to see God when He's showing up so clearly in my life.
So today, I'm just grateful.
And feeling protected.
The experience of being threatened physically is pretty horrifying. Especially when it comes from someone who is supposed to love you and protect you.
So this weekend, when the pastor said:
Love means protecting and providing.
It hit me.
I was sitting between two of my best friends and I realized how grateful I was to both of them for the way that they have - probably unknowingly - protected me.
They hold doors.
They drive because I hate it.
They put in drywall anchors even if it will be the death of them.
They cook dinner with me.
They come over to be around when I'm really just being paranoid.
They challenge me to be a better woman, a better leader, a better Christ-follower.
I write a lot when things are bad. How tough life is. How God must still be good in all of it. And I forget a lot to see God when He's showing up so clearly in my life.
So today, I'm just grateful.
And feeling protected.
1.16.2012
listen.
Growing up, I wasn't a very good listener. It's probably what inspired me to talk for a living. Because I talked. A lot.
I remember when my Sunday School teacher told us that God had given us two ears and one mouth so that we would listen twice as much as we talk. I think she might have been right.
My grandmother told me the other day:
...Everything that she cooked for Christmas dinner
...What everyone else brought for dinner
...How much was leftover
...What she did with the leftovers
...How she made the leftovers
...And that this "pizza thing"... it's really catching on.
My 6th grade girls have told me:
...About this boy that is SO cute
...About her teacher and how she hates her
...The times she has gotten in trouble for what she was wearing
...Stuff that happened on family vacation
...About her lizard
...The coolest places she has Tebow-ed
...That her parents told her once they wish she'd never been born
...That social services could be coming tomorrow
...That her mom was in a surgery that went fine, but scared her a lot
They don't want advice.
They don't even really need me to be able to relate.
They just need to get it out there so that they can be heard.
We all want to be heard.
In a world of so much social networking and communication, what all of these kids, my grandmother, my friends and all of us want is for someone to listen to us. To hear how our day went. To vent frustrations. To share ridiculous stories.
I might still not be a very good listener. But I want to be. Because ... well, there are a lot of people in my life who have way better stories than I do.
I remember when my Sunday School teacher told us that God had given us two ears and one mouth so that we would listen twice as much as we talk. I think she might have been right.
My grandmother told me the other day:
...Everything that she cooked for Christmas dinner
...What everyone else brought for dinner
...How much was leftover
...What she did with the leftovers
...How she made the leftovers
...And that this "pizza thing"... it's really catching on.
My 6th grade girls have told me:
...About this boy that is SO cute
...About her teacher and how she hates her
...The times she has gotten in trouble for what she was wearing
...Stuff that happened on family vacation
...About her lizard
...The coolest places she has Tebow-ed
...That her parents told her once they wish she'd never been born
...That social services could be coming tomorrow
...That her mom was in a surgery that went fine, but scared her a lot
They don't want advice.
They don't even really need me to be able to relate.
They just need to get it out there so that they can be heard.
We all want to be heard.
In a world of so much social networking and communication, what all of these kids, my grandmother, my friends and all of us want is for someone to listen to us. To hear how our day went. To vent frustrations. To share ridiculous stories.
I might still not be a very good listener. But I want to be. Because ... well, there are a lot of people in my life who have way better stories than I do.
1.08.2012
men.
At church today, we were asked if we could think of 5 men who were great men. I realized, I am privileged to have been surrounded by some great men in my life and I'm not sure I've ever thanked them or let them know how much they've meant to me.
Pastor Butler
He was quite possibly the biggest influencer in who I am today. He challenged me as a leader. To be better. To dream big. And to do things that had never even been thought of before. He inspired confidence and helped me to make my faith my own. (and taught important lessons on Helen Keller.)
Dan
At first, I wasn't really sure what to think about this guy who just seemed well, not that friendly. But he became one of my greatest friends - one of the few people that I'd ever met who thinks like me. I admired his drive. And his passion for accomplishing whatever he set his mind to.
David
He was the only person in college who spanned all of the same interests I had. We did ministry, church, the radio station and even volleyball together. I heard about his heartbreaks and he listened when I wasn't sure what was going on in my heart. We spent a lot of time driving back to our hometowns together, searching for Wendy's and is currently a great husband to an awesome woman. (even if he is a NASCAR fan)
Nate
I've never met anyone like him. He isn't afraid to be open about what he's feeling. He's honest. And cares deeply for his friends and the kids he's invested his life in. He is quick to compliment and slow to criticize. In tough situations, he handles himself with poise and has always been a first responder when things in my world get turned upside down.
Tucker
Charisma. I can't think of a more appropriate word than that. I've never met someone more admired by the people around him than this guy. Kids want to be him, including doing crazy sports like cross country, just to be like him. He's steady and when I felt like things were falling apart, this man that I'd only known for a matter of months, was first on scene and has been ever since.
I know there are others that I'm forgetting.
A teacher who took in a high schooler who had nowhere else to go
Profs and pastors who constantly challenged my way of thinking
Friends who were always there, stayed up late, listened to me rant and protected me well.
While I've witnessed a good amount of men who haven't been good friends, dads, or husbands, I'm grateful that I can say I've also been surrounded by some great men, fantastic teachers and excellent friends.
Good. Men.
So if you feel like you've been trying your best to be a good man, know this - the women in your life likely see it. And are so appreciative.
Pastor Butler
He was quite possibly the biggest influencer in who I am today. He challenged me as a leader. To be better. To dream big. And to do things that had never even been thought of before. He inspired confidence and helped me to make my faith my own. (and taught important lessons on Helen Keller.)
Dan
At first, I wasn't really sure what to think about this guy who just seemed well, not that friendly. But he became one of my greatest friends - one of the few people that I'd ever met who thinks like me. I admired his drive. And his passion for accomplishing whatever he set his mind to.
David
He was the only person in college who spanned all of the same interests I had. We did ministry, church, the radio station and even volleyball together. I heard about his heartbreaks and he listened when I wasn't sure what was going on in my heart. We spent a lot of time driving back to our hometowns together, searching for Wendy's and is currently a great husband to an awesome woman. (even if he is a NASCAR fan)
Nate
I've never met anyone like him. He isn't afraid to be open about what he's feeling. He's honest. And cares deeply for his friends and the kids he's invested his life in. He is quick to compliment and slow to criticize. In tough situations, he handles himself with poise and has always been a first responder when things in my world get turned upside down.
Tucker
Charisma. I can't think of a more appropriate word than that. I've never met someone more admired by the people around him than this guy. Kids want to be him, including doing crazy sports like cross country, just to be like him. He's steady and when I felt like things were falling apart, this man that I'd only known for a matter of months, was first on scene and has been ever since.
I know there are others that I'm forgetting.
A teacher who took in a high schooler who had nowhere else to go
Profs and pastors who constantly challenged my way of thinking
Friends who were always there, stayed up late, listened to me rant and protected me well.
While I've witnessed a good amount of men who haven't been good friends, dads, or husbands, I'm grateful that I can say I've also been surrounded by some great men, fantastic teachers and excellent friends.
Good. Men.
So if you feel like you've been trying your best to be a good man, know this - the women in your life likely see it. And are so appreciative.
1.07.2012
1.06.2012
first world problems.
except possibly slugs. ugh. slugs.
1.05.2012
the axel.
I've been on figure skates for as long as I can remember. I started taking lessons when I was 8 with the goal of becoming the one, the only, Kristi Yamuguchi. (and later Michelle Kwan. She was Asian and had my name. It was like... fate!)
Last night I got to re-live a little of my childhood and skate. And impress the heck out of some 11-year old girls who had no idea that when I was their age, I was dreaming of being an Olympic figure skater.
A 4-year old girl was watching me spin and the look on her face told me that she thought that was the best thing anyone could ever do on figure skates. She doesn't know that I'm a quitter who wasn't committed enough or daring enough to really be anything great.
I was too scared of falling.
When I first started, I flew past all of the other kids. The moves were easy for me so while my friends faltered and fell, I was always the confident one who passed the tests with flying colors. Until the axel.
An axel is a jump that takes off on a forward outside edge (the only jump that begins forward). You to do a turn-and-a-half rotation in the air before landing backwards on your quarter-inch blade. It's the last single that you learn, and it's the jump that I could not master.
You have to get a certain amount of height if you hope to make the rotation necessary to land it and that height only comes when you put everything you have into it.
And that means you're really trying.
And you might fail.
So you might really fail.
It took me a couple of tries to master all the other jumps. The axel I worked on for almost an entire year and I only landed it shakily a handful of times. I didn't risk enough to actually do it.
I catch myself living life that way too.
And I don't want to live like that anymore.
After a lot of broken relationships - friends and boyfriends - it's scary to jump in and risk the most important thing I have - my heart. But I also don't think we were meant to do life alone. I realize, I'm getting to a point where I can't just be "half-committed" in my relationships.
It's a risk.
And it's terrifying.
But... finally... I really want to land it.
Last night I got to re-live a little of my childhood and skate. And impress the heck out of some 11-year old girls who had no idea that when I was their age, I was dreaming of being an Olympic figure skater.
I was too scared of falling.
When I first started, I flew past all of the other kids. The moves were easy for me so while my friends faltered and fell, I was always the confident one who passed the tests with flying colors. Until the axel.
An axel is a jump that takes off on a forward outside edge (the only jump that begins forward). You to do a turn-and-a-half rotation in the air before landing backwards on your quarter-inch blade. It's the last single that you learn, and it's the jump that I could not master.
You have to get a certain amount of height if you hope to make the rotation necessary to land it and that height only comes when you put everything you have into it.
And that means you're really trying.
And you might fail.
So you might really fail.
It took me a couple of tries to master all the other jumps. The axel I worked on for almost an entire year and I only landed it shakily a handful of times. I didn't risk enough to actually do it.
I catch myself living life that way too.
And I don't want to live like that anymore.
After a lot of broken relationships - friends and boyfriends - it's scary to jump in and risk the most important thing I have - my heart. But I also don't think we were meant to do life alone. I realize, I'm getting to a point where I can't just be "half-committed" in my relationships.
It's a risk.
And it's terrifying.
But... finally... I really want to land it.
1.04.2012
single.
I had an epiphany the other day. And it was a good one.
I'm single.
And I'm okay.
Holidays seem to bring out people who want to catch up who you haven't seen in forever so I've been answering the cautiously-asked "so... how are you doing?" question a lot lately. I try to give an honest answer because that's what I hope that people give me. After a decent amount of consideration, I realized, I'm good. Really.
I finally don't have all the hurt, ill-will and guilt weighing me down that I had this summer.
In fact, I feel free.
This is not to say that somehow I have conquered the desire to someday be married and have a family. Or that magically the feelings that I'm not good enough or pretty enough to ever catch someone's attention have disappeared. Or that I don't catch myself in feelings of jealousy (and subsequently inferiority) over stupid things - like when my friends meet handsome strangers on planes or when being blonde and mostly ditzy is more desirable than being Asian and actually knowing what you're talking about.
But it is that I've been on my own for 8 months.
...taking out the trash every Tuesday night
...emptying mouse traps when necessary
...changing my own windshield wipers
...figuring out how to fix my own wireless router issues
...moving furniture
...killing moths or whatever other bug decides that my house is its new home
...and opening my own jars (mostly)
This isn't the road I would have chosen to get here. Mostly I wish that I could have listened to God, guarded my heart and had "happily ever after." But I'm glad to know that I serve the kind of God who takes a mess and can still make a masterpiece.
Wow. Sorry. That last line is cheesy.
I'm single.
And I'm okay.
Holidays seem to bring out people who want to catch up who you haven't seen in forever so I've been answering the cautiously-asked "so... how are you doing?" question a lot lately. I try to give an honest answer because that's what I hope that people give me. After a decent amount of consideration, I realized, I'm good. Really.
I finally don't have all the hurt, ill-will and guilt weighing me down that I had this summer.
In fact, I feel free.
This is not to say that somehow I have conquered the desire to someday be married and have a family. Or that magically the feelings that I'm not good enough or pretty enough to ever catch someone's attention have disappeared. Or that I don't catch myself in feelings of jealousy (and subsequently inferiority) over stupid things - like when my friends meet handsome strangers on planes or when being blonde and mostly ditzy is more desirable than being Asian and actually knowing what you're talking about.
But it is that I've been on my own for 8 months.
...taking out the trash every Tuesday night
...emptying mouse traps when necessary
...changing my own windshield wipers
...figuring out how to fix my own wireless router issues
...moving furniture
...killing moths or whatever other bug decides that my house is its new home
...and opening my own jars (mostly)
This isn't the road I would have chosen to get here. Mostly I wish that I could have listened to God, guarded my heart and had "happily ever after." But I'm glad to know that I serve the kind of God who takes a mess and can still make a masterpiece.
Wow. Sorry. That last line is cheesy.
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