My first ever marriage proposal

Yes.  Yes.  You read that right.  I promise.

It's kind of a long story.  I won't go into too much detail of the story, except the important parts. :)  (I think it helps that I can snort-laugh about it now.)

So, here's how it kinda-sorta happened.

This past weekend, I decided to end the, uh, whatever it was...friendship, relationship, whatever you want to call it with the guy I had been praying about seeing befriending (dear God what do people call this stuff?!?).  With much council and wisdom, and some serious prayer, I knew that he wasn't the Boaz for me.  And I was okay with that (remember that Christine Caine pic floating around FB??). :)  So, after some brief, errr, "conversation", I wished him well and went on my merry way.

Fast forward a few days...to, well, yesterday.  To where the, uh, "conversation" went something like this:

guy: :(

me: ?

guy: i miss you

me: sorry... (don't judge me...I'm not necessarily the sentimental type, k?)


guy: wanna get married? (and yes, he was SERIOUS)


me: ??? (?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!!? whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat running through my head...enter crickets on the scene)


guy: aww ok

me: (after some seriously long moments of excusing myself from said, er, conversation, and talking w/ the mamas in the room on how to shake this guy)  A lot would need to happen for that.

guy: aww you don't love me

me: (where in HELL idea did love come into this?!?!  I never said that!!!! whaaaaaaaaaaaaatt?????)  I've only known you for 2 1/2 months.  Of course I don't love you.  You don't love me either.  You'll be fine.  (sorry if that seemed heartless....but, well, when you don't take no for an answer after several nice attempts, I just stop plain being nice and aim for slightly less brutal w/ lots of bluntness thrown in)


guy: yes I do

me: (name of guy), you need to provide a home for me.  I want a house.  I want a man who has a strong relationship with the Lord.  I want a man who's willing to pursue me and pick me up for dates.

guy: Okay.  I hope you find that.  Sorry to bother you.

END SCENE

Now, do I normally blab about something like this?  No.  But I promise, there's a lesson in this! :)

1. If you think I'm willing to settle, back away from the bus, buddy.  It ain't happening.  Besides, the bestie would slap me silly if I ever did.  Followed in line by the roommate and bestie #2.

2. I'm worth WAY MORE than a text proposal (yeah, it was via text messages amidst prior conversations we had had face to face).  If you don't see that, well, you are SO not the one for me, honey.  Read #1.

3. You've gotta see the humor in this.  In the fact that, bless his heart, yeah, he liked me.  Yeah, he totally went about this the so wrong way.  But I thanked him anyway for his interest and moved on.  When before, I would've flat run him over with Bert due to how fast I sped away from this type of stuff just 6 months ago.  I'd say that's progress!!

4. Through this all, as I talked w/ the bestie, I sat and laughed and giggled about what a story this would make.  Which means that I'm okay.  I've gotten through the emotions of disappointment and frustration, and have moved on to joy and laughter.  To know that, overall, I'm okay once again. :)  And that I do have the power to choose and say "no" (read previous blogs....this is a biggie for me to overcome, especially when it comes to men!)

So, there you have it, peeps.  My first ever marriage proposal.

Boy, do I have a great story to tell the (possible) future husband! haha :)  But he better not propose to me through text message.  I just might clobber him. ;)

Keep your eyes open

Today, well, the past few days, I've felt this need to write.  And write some more.

To write what was on my heart.  To let go of some things.  To just...unburden myself.  And allow all of the emotions to flow.  That's one of the things I was told I was good at...writing down my emotions.  I can't always express them, but when I write, everything just seems to flow from pen to paper.

Today was no different.  As I sat at my desk, getting ready for the holiday festivities, I finally picked up my stationary set and pen and just let everything flow.

Doubts.  Fears.  Anger.  Tears.  And longing.  So much longing.

And as I sat and wrote, this song kept playing in my head:

And over and over, the whisper of His voice as I wrote...to not give up, to keep on going.  To keep my eyes open.  To not let go.  To not lose hope.  Even amidst my frustration and angst.  "'cause if you never leave home never let go you'll never make it to the great unknown...so show me your fire, show me your heart, you know I'll never let you fall apart, if you keep your eyes open, my love"

And I just burst into tears.  This past week just hit me.  The ending of something.  Well, more than one thing. And how so many changes have come up.  And that yeah, right now, my heart feels a bit broken and shattered at the realization that I need to let go of some things.

But I'm also reminded to not give up hope, even when that's all I want to do in my flesh.  To keep holding on.  To keep my eyes open.

But also to keep walking in Him.  In His light.  His voice.  His love.  "So tell me you’re strong, tell me you see
I need to hear it, can you promise me to
Keep your eyes open, my love"

 All of that to say...

If you're at the point where you're so frustrated, and you want to give in....

When all you see is the darkness around you....

When you've lost hope in the promises given, or the words spoken...

Keep your eyes open.

Keep them focused on Him.

Don't look away.

Don't give up.

Crawl if you must.

Dig into the ground and elbow your way through the muck.

But keep your eyes open.

The mountain may seem large, but I promise, it's not.

It may seem unsurmountable, unattainable...

But it's not.

Because I serve a God who makes all things possible.

Paves a way where there is none.

Opens the floodgates of hope when we choose to keep our eyes on Him.

Not on our circumstances.

Not on our status quo.

Not on our relationship(s), or lack of them.

But when we are so focused on Him,

His eyes,

His heart,

His face,

His voice.

When we are so focused on Him,

That's all we say.

So, today, I'm letting that be my anthem, my theme, for this season, as I allow my heart to feel emotions, to break, to cry, to tear, to anger, and to doubt.  I'm remembering that through it all, my eyes will still remain focused on Him.

And that brings me a comfort, a peace, a joy....that I can't even begin to describe.

Because I know that, ultimately, this leads to another chain broken, another thing being set free.  Another petal in my flower to be allowed to bloom.

Praise the Lord, oh my soul.

And all that is within me, praise and bless His holy name.

What I learned from making pancakes

It cracks me up that I always tended to learn the best lessons while salivating concocting chewing cooking up yummy delicious food. :)  This morning was no exception.

I woke up refreshed, with plenty of sleep under my belt (almost a total of 20 hours from Friday night and last night).  Woke up with a song in my head: "Isn't She Lovely", by Stevie Wonder.  And this is the part that was playing nonstopirritatinglyrepeatedly over and over :

Isn't she lovely
Isn't she wonderful
Isn't she precious
Isn't she pretty
Truly the angel's best
Boy, I'm so happy
We have been heaven blessed
I can't believe what God has done
But isn't she lovely made from love


Anywho...I've been singing that all morning.  So now I have the Stevie Wonder playlist playing on my Spotify account...and I digress from the story.


Okay...back at it now...


Not only did I wake up w/ that song in my head, but I woke up happy and content, and in a mood to bake.  Now, when I get in this mood, you might want to watch out.  The kitchen becomes a disaster area work zone, and the house smells like the witch's house in Hansel and Gretel really yummy.  So, went on pinterest and became anal about organization a much better organizer and organized my Favorite Recipes board.  Into various catergories...desserts, main dishes, crock pot, etc.  You get the gist.


Anywho, found this awesome recipe for Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Cookie pancakes...made w/ no sugar. :)  So, the bake cook was on! haha


Got my handy dandy apron, and began to cook.  And all of a sudden (happens like that a lot lately), I could hear Him begin to talk to me...about pancakes...and dough...


Making the pancakes, and looking at the batter and how, well, weird it looked.  All these clumps and lumps and just...well, ugly.  I mean, it tasted good.  But for a moment, I was wondering how in the world will that weird-clumpy-looking batter is supposed to turn out like the picture on Pinterest?!


Which He then reminded me about some things:


1. I'm made of lumps and clumps and things that aren't very "pretty".  We all are.  But it's those very things that make us unique.  Makes our story unique in and of itself.  Those things we have to deal with, that help us understand just what our calling is, how He's placed us in the body.  For example, one of those lumps was my addiction to pornography and romance novels.  Now, I know I am free and called to help others to that same freedom.


2.  The heat makes what looked ugly into something beautiful and delicious.  Without the heat, the pressure, the bubbles, the storm of sizzling butter in the pan, those lumps and clumps wouldn't be turned into something yummy, nutritious and really good to eat.  Without the heat and pressure, without that refining fire, we aren't able to turn into something that's infinitely more precious BECAUSE of the lumps, what was inside that batter.  The batter is what makes the food unique in and of itself.  You changed one ingredient in the batter, and you've created a whole 'nother recipe.  Same with us.  If you changed one part of your story, the outcome would/could/possibly be different.


3.  It's when I'm in the kitchen, baking and cooking for the fun of it, that I'm most happy, content and thriving.  It's when I'm in that place that everything in my head gets quiet, my hands are busy, and my heart is ready to listen.  I always thought it was during worship...and to some degree it is...but this season, I think because my hands have been busy doing things, that He's been taking time out of something I love, and "making" me listen.  I knew baking was a passion of mine, I just don't think I realized just exactly why it was.  :)


And then He put it all together...


How I'm like that batter...and how I see myself...and the way I NEED to see myself and this journey.  There's so much that makes me who I am, so much that I'm STILL trying to figure out, as I flounder at things, excel at others, and generally learn what most people have learned in their teen years...  And most often than not, I feel like that ugly batter, like nothing beautiful could ever come out of it.  And that there are so many lumps and bumps and clumps and hodge-podge messes that for the life of me I can't figure out how He'll make it into the picture He's showing/shown myself and others.  But then He reminds me that, despite what I think, I'll eventually get there.  It just may take a lot more fire than I realized.  A lot more baking/cooking/marinating.  And that I need to be patient.  To not demand so much in so quick a time.  (Seems like patience has been my downfall lately...or lack thereof.)  And that I'll EVENTUALLY get where I need to be, and that it's okay to take it slow.  That He knows exactly what He's doing, and that He's a gentleman while doing it.


And not only that, but it's okay when a few more GOOD bumps come along...like chocolate chips in the batter, the added sweetness of life's amazing moments (such as holding hands for the first time in my life with a man) adds character, moments and memories that are good. :)


Then He took me back to remembering some things regarding DN, that these past 2 1/2 months have been good, despite the heartbreak that went with ending a potential relationship (knowing that he was not the one for me, after much prayer and counsel and wisdom).  And He reminded me of the things learned, the confidence built and the fact that I faced my fear of men, and survived.


And as tears begin to form and leak, the realization that, despite my moments of wanting to bang my head against the wall, He's forming something beautiful and yummy, something fragrant and delicious...something that, in the end, will bloom and turn into that butterfly, that flower, those amazing chocolate chip oatmeal cookie pancakes, that is sweet, beautiful and lovely.  It just takes more time, more marinating and a bit more heat. :)


All in all, I think a lovely lesson to learn this morning as I sit and bask in His presence...and dance to "The Fighter" by Gym Class Heroes. :)