The word of the day: Trust.
Discovering what that means, and learning to silence my thoughts and listen to His voice. Because growing up seems to mean making decisions, and growing up with grace means following His steps and seeking wisdom in the decisions.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
I am reading through old posts from 2006 and I came across this story and had to re-post it, it made me laugh way too hard to remember this eventful Thanksgiving morning...
A funny story...
So last night I was being my OCD self and I was 'arguing' with Dad about this little basket that he keeps moving on the window seal. Every morning I wake up and go into the bathroom (mine and Kris' bathroom downstairs!) and the first thing I see is this brown basket, off centered, pushed awkwardly against the old glass coke bottle that hold a flower (a fresh one, not a fake one- thats important to me, lol). OKay, so keep in mind dad and I are in the bathroom at about 2:30am aruging back and forth about the placement of this small basket. Actually, we aren't quite arguing, I am actually begging him to let me atleast angle the basket the other way of he wont let me move it back to where it belongs on the other side of the window seal. He, eventually willing to TELL ME WHY it must be in that ridiculous, off-centered position, tells me to open the window- thus knocking over the basket, which falls and knocks over the glass candle holder on the floor and making quite a commotion. I pick it all up- part laughing at this whole event, but still truly frusterated (dad's favorite word, hehe). Suddenly, in the midst of me putting things back, and re-angling the basket Dad starts laughing and points at the toilet and says, "Look what you did!" "You dropped your shoes in the toilet!"
Well....I had been picking up the bathroom and cleaning (yes, don't all normal people clean their bathroom at 2:30 in the morning?) And I had grabbed Kris' tennis shoes off the floor to put in her room, when dad came in and pushed the basket in against the coke bottle. I still don't know when, or how, but somehow I dropped KRIS's shoes in the toilet in the midst of our "argument" (and by the term 'argument' I mean a persuasive discussion incorporating all the available means of persuasion). As Dad is laughing, I thrust my hand into the toilet (okay- admit it, you are all wondering about the manner of the toilet at this moment...it is flushed, and it had just been cleaned hours before) and grab out Kris's tennis shoes, explaning to dad (in a very panicked, loud tone) "They aren't mine- They are Kris's!" "Crap! Crap!" Dad begins lauging harder than I have heard him laugh in a while, knowing full well that his middle daughter is about to kill me! I began panicking, wondering what to do with them.
Dad said, "throw them in the bath tub. She'll think they got wet in there." But she'd still get mad at me- how did they get in the bath tub?! I went and 'rung' them out in the laundry room and set them on the floor. By now, Dad's filled mom in on the story and she is laughing with dad as I worry about where I can put the shoes to dry. katherine's on the stairs, "what happened?" I said- "Go to your room!" Mom and dad both still laughing, even harder. I set them on the floor in the back corner of the laundry room, hoping she wouldn't see them....and then this morning, I could help but tell her the whole funny story. She laughed, until she found out WHICH shoes. :(
Happy Thanksgiving!
A funny story...
So last night I was being my OCD self and I was 'arguing' with Dad about this little basket that he keeps moving on the window seal. Every morning I wake up and go into the bathroom (mine and Kris' bathroom downstairs!) and the first thing I see is this brown basket, off centered, pushed awkwardly against the old glass coke bottle that hold a flower (a fresh one, not a fake one- thats important to me, lol). OKay, so keep in mind dad and I are in the bathroom at about 2:30am aruging back and forth about the placement of this small basket. Actually, we aren't quite arguing, I am actually begging him to let me atleast angle the basket the other way of he wont let me move it back to where it belongs on the other side of the window seal. He, eventually willing to TELL ME WHY it must be in that ridiculous, off-centered position, tells me to open the window- thus knocking over the basket, which falls and knocks over the glass candle holder on the floor and making quite a commotion. I pick it all up- part laughing at this whole event, but still truly frusterated (dad's favorite word, hehe). Suddenly, in the midst of me putting things back, and re-angling the basket Dad starts laughing and points at the toilet and says, "Look what you did!" "You dropped your shoes in the toilet!"
Well....I had been picking up the bathroom and cleaning (yes, don't all normal people clean their bathroom at 2:30 in the morning?) And I had grabbed Kris' tennis shoes off the floor to put in her room, when dad came in and pushed the basket in against the coke bottle. I still don't know when, or how, but somehow I dropped KRIS's shoes in the toilet in the midst of our "argument" (and by the term 'argument' I mean a persuasive discussion incorporating all the available means of persuasion). As Dad is laughing, I thrust my hand into the toilet (okay- admit it, you are all wondering about the manner of the toilet at this moment...it is flushed, and it had just been cleaned hours before) and grab out Kris's tennis shoes, explaning to dad (in a very panicked, loud tone) "They aren't mine- They are Kris's!" "Crap! Crap!" Dad begins lauging harder than I have heard him laugh in a while, knowing full well that his middle daughter is about to kill me! I began panicking, wondering what to do with them.
Dad said, "throw them in the bath tub. She'll think they got wet in there." But she'd still get mad at me- how did they get in the bath tub?! I went and 'rung' them out in the laundry room and set them on the floor. By now, Dad's filled mom in on the story and she is laughing with dad as I worry about where I can put the shoes to dry. katherine's on the stairs, "what happened?" I said- "Go to your room!" Mom and dad both still laughing, even harder. I set them on the floor in the back corner of the laundry room, hoping she wouldn't see them....and then this morning, I could help but tell her the whole funny story. She laughed, until she found out WHICH shoes. :(
Happy Thanksgiving!
This morning I saw a flower. Tiny, and quickly tramped, but I saw it. It was there and that is what matters. It lived, it grew and it called forward to something greater. I know each man and woman in this town, but I dare not address them. They take little notice of me. I know their children, and we play and laugh together. I am more like the little ones.
It was when the children’s parents called them to come along and hurry home with them, “stay close by my side,” they chided them. As I said, it was then that I first discovered my treasure. I’d seen the way the older ones looked at me that afternoon as they told their children to come close, grabbing their hands. My nose had started to sting, my eyes would have rained were we not all in this drought. The land is dry; the people’s hearts are dry too. Our cattle has grown thin and most have perished, providing dinner for one more night. I wanted to get away from their eyes, the mix of judgment and pity and their own shame all projected onto me like an old silent film. I should have starved by now, I should just die rather then live to remind the few who remember my birth: the expectations, the joy, the dreams of their ignorant youth. It was easier to ignore me, and they tried to make their children forget me too.
I ran until I collapsed in a dead sea of dried up wheat, pale gold for miles. I’d spent all I had inside in this last attempt to escape the dry and painful world. Grabbing dried blades that scratched and cut at my hands, I rolled onto my back and cried out. No words, just a groan that came from empty canyons. The sun was hot, and as I stared at the blood and burnt wheat in my hands, they turned to grays and whites and then all went black. When I awoke it was dark, quiet, and cool. It seemed a different land. I found my hands, and then my knees. As I stared at the ground in front of me, ready to rock back onto my feet I thought I saw myself. Not as I supposed I now looked, but as I once had, or someday could. My hair was dark and long, light and floating on a breeze. My eyes glowed soft. My face was full and though dark from the sun, it was lovely.
I leaned closer and closer, until suddenly I felt I’d tumble over. I was down there, I was deep. I decided to find something to reach down there with, to see if the me in the well might grab it and climb out, or if perhaps this apparition may be something better then it appeared. Water. There were no trees nearby, so I settled on a long, thick blade of wheat, baked hard by the sun. I retraced my steps in the dark and when I figured I was close I returned to my knees and crawled. Reaching its edge, I laid flat on my belly and reached my arm down deep, until I heard something quietly meet: my secret expectations and the real hidden source of life- water. I’d found a well, no doubt an ancient one. I laughed, and then laughed again at the sound of my own long-forgotten laugh. I stared into a sky that seemed less like an empty pale and more like an endless ocean for the first time. I was thankful for it, for the night, for the stars, for the old well I’d found. I started to wonder if it were okay to drink, could I drink it now? Was it bitter like the water we get to spoon from the old pipe for a pound? Who was the man who’d worked to dig it? What was his wife like? I rolled over and stared into the well at the dark lovely woman inside. She was me, and somehow I felt I became her. The silly thoughts of a child you’d think, except for what follows.
The dawn had soon begun to break and I did my best to conceal the treasure, determined to return when I’d decided what I was to do with this well. The following day brought many dreams, more than any night I’d shared with the stars. The following night I returned to the same spot and lay on my face at the well. I’d brought an old red pale, and when I felt I’d looked at the lady long enough, I tied a rope to the handle and slowly dropped it down. I heard the sweet splash of my desires into the depths of reality, louder then the night before and my heart felt stronger then any moment I could remember. I felt the rope grow heavy and I pulled hard. As I brought it to the surface of the ground, I grasped its handle and felt the heaviness of having your dreams in your hand.
Inside, was more then crimson water. A glass bottle floated at the top, attached was a small weight, an anchor of sorts that read “hope” across it. My eyes widened, and I felt it was mine to open the bottle. Inside was a note; it read simply:
Hope rarely comes in the rain, most often it’s quiet, spreading through the soil until it manifests in one beautiful flower, and then another, and another, until the garden itself calls down the heavens.
The penmanship was lovely. But I’d hoped for something more, clearer, perhaps a signature or a date, or a “this water is safe.” But nothing told me the water was safe. On the contrary, something about it seemed entirely wild, even while it was peaceful and quiet. It seemed patient, yet alive with desire to get out. “Release me” it whispered in the dark night. As if I was nothing but the water’s vessel, I tipped the heavy bucket over and felt its cool and wild hands race across my feet. I watched closely as it spread out across the ground my feet touched. You’d think that starving soil would greedily drink the waters down, but instead, hard and dry it resisted. But the water would not be denied its purpose, and it waited patiently for the soil to open up. After several minutes it had all worked its way down. I wondered still more about the nature of the well. I decided to be patient as the water had, and watch to see the water’s affect on the soil.
The next morning I wandered by, unobserved to steal a glance at the water in the daylight. After a quick glance around, I dropped to my stomach and crawled closer, uncovering the well. Looking down, I saw a dark glimmer deep below. I did not see the well’s lady. Deep inside me, I heard a call to her and resisted the urge to release it out loud, even just in a whisper.
As I sat back on my knees, and dusted off my hands, I looked around the spot and recognized it was the same place I’d dumped the bucket the night before. Reaching for the rope, I pulled up another heavy bucket, straining more in the intense heat than I had the night before. As I pulled it over the edge I stared into the bucket, lost in the ripples crashing back and forth. Most often it’s quiet, spreading through the soil, the words I’d read last night splashed back and forth in my mind. I tipped the bucket over again. This time, I didn’t wait to see it soak in. I lowered the bucket back silently, concealed my treasure and crawled until I felt it a safe distance to stand and journey away.
And so my nights continued, traveling to the well and pouring out its wild and peaceful waters across the field. ‘Till one morning I walked toward my well, and as I stared carefully down at the ground, hoping to catch a glance down at the deep waters, I saw something yellow. It was like fire, or the sun, a butterfly. I dropped to my knees in this place, as I had dozens of times before. My breath heavy and my movements clumsy, I reached out to touch its gentle petals. The stem was long and lovely, a picture of beauty we’d long been starved of. Something had grown in this desert. That night I returned, and I drew more then one bucket of water, I drew them over and over, spilling them out across the field until I felt I couldn’t pull the weight of the waters up again. “One last time, and this one will be for a different desert” I concluded. Pulling its heavy red host from the well’s edge, I braced it with both arms and rested it on the ground in front of me. I sat there, a cross-legged quiet warrior. The one who’d waited patient as these waters. The one who’d moved in the darkness of night, not seen by those who should love and embrace me. I sat there, the promise of change in my arms. I offered both my hands to the wild creature in the bucket, and it rushed into my palms to thank me. Filled to the top, I pulled it out and splashed it across my face. A deep gasp, and then a laugh. Next, I reached deep and filled the cup of my hands, raising it to my lips. As the water trickled down my throat, I thought of that hard soil that had resisted to no avail. I felt its coldness run all the way down into the deepest parts of my stomach and heart. I felt awake, alive. I drank again, and again. I couldn’t escape the feeling that my desert was turning into a garden, and I was growing.
We have not yet seen the rain, but the flowers are growing. Some speculate that its magic. Others say science. Logically, it had to come eventually, the soil just needed time to reconstruct and heal itself. Whatever the reason they try to give it, they can’t fully believe it themselves.
This morning I woke, tired from another night’s unseen work. The people are beginning to see the beauty spreading, flowers across the fields. I see a rain cloud growing just above them. I am little, but I am growing too and they may not recognize me. I am the lady in the well, deep calling unto deep. I am the one who waters in the desert, who works in the night, who calls the flowers and waits like the waters, wild and peaceful.
I am Hope.
It was when the children’s parents called them to come along and hurry home with them, “stay close by my side,” they chided them. As I said, it was then that I first discovered my treasure. I’d seen the way the older ones looked at me that afternoon as they told their children to come close, grabbing their hands. My nose had started to sting, my eyes would have rained were we not all in this drought. The land is dry; the people’s hearts are dry too. Our cattle has grown thin and most have perished, providing dinner for one more night. I wanted to get away from their eyes, the mix of judgment and pity and their own shame all projected onto me like an old silent film. I should have starved by now, I should just die rather then live to remind the few who remember my birth: the expectations, the joy, the dreams of their ignorant youth. It was easier to ignore me, and they tried to make their children forget me too.
I ran until I collapsed in a dead sea of dried up wheat, pale gold for miles. I’d spent all I had inside in this last attempt to escape the dry and painful world. Grabbing dried blades that scratched and cut at my hands, I rolled onto my back and cried out. No words, just a groan that came from empty canyons. The sun was hot, and as I stared at the blood and burnt wheat in my hands, they turned to grays and whites and then all went black. When I awoke it was dark, quiet, and cool. It seemed a different land. I found my hands, and then my knees. As I stared at the ground in front of me, ready to rock back onto my feet I thought I saw myself. Not as I supposed I now looked, but as I once had, or someday could. My hair was dark and long, light and floating on a breeze. My eyes glowed soft. My face was full and though dark from the sun, it was lovely.
I leaned closer and closer, until suddenly I felt I’d tumble over. I was down there, I was deep. I decided to find something to reach down there with, to see if the me in the well might grab it and climb out, or if perhaps this apparition may be something better then it appeared. Water. There were no trees nearby, so I settled on a long, thick blade of wheat, baked hard by the sun. I retraced my steps in the dark and when I figured I was close I returned to my knees and crawled. Reaching its edge, I laid flat on my belly and reached my arm down deep, until I heard something quietly meet: my secret expectations and the real hidden source of life- water. I’d found a well, no doubt an ancient one. I laughed, and then laughed again at the sound of my own long-forgotten laugh. I stared into a sky that seemed less like an empty pale and more like an endless ocean for the first time. I was thankful for it, for the night, for the stars, for the old well I’d found. I started to wonder if it were okay to drink, could I drink it now? Was it bitter like the water we get to spoon from the old pipe for a pound? Who was the man who’d worked to dig it? What was his wife like? I rolled over and stared into the well at the dark lovely woman inside. She was me, and somehow I felt I became her. The silly thoughts of a child you’d think, except for what follows.
The dawn had soon begun to break and I did my best to conceal the treasure, determined to return when I’d decided what I was to do with this well. The following day brought many dreams, more than any night I’d shared with the stars. The following night I returned to the same spot and lay on my face at the well. I’d brought an old red pale, and when I felt I’d looked at the lady long enough, I tied a rope to the handle and slowly dropped it down. I heard the sweet splash of my desires into the depths of reality, louder then the night before and my heart felt stronger then any moment I could remember. I felt the rope grow heavy and I pulled hard. As I brought it to the surface of the ground, I grasped its handle and felt the heaviness of having your dreams in your hand.
Inside, was more then crimson water. A glass bottle floated at the top, attached was a small weight, an anchor of sorts that read “hope” across it. My eyes widened, and I felt it was mine to open the bottle. Inside was a note; it read simply:
Hope rarely comes in the rain, most often it’s quiet, spreading through the soil until it manifests in one beautiful flower, and then another, and another, until the garden itself calls down the heavens.
The penmanship was lovely. But I’d hoped for something more, clearer, perhaps a signature or a date, or a “this water is safe.” But nothing told me the water was safe. On the contrary, something about it seemed entirely wild, even while it was peaceful and quiet. It seemed patient, yet alive with desire to get out. “Release me” it whispered in the dark night. As if I was nothing but the water’s vessel, I tipped the heavy bucket over and felt its cool and wild hands race across my feet. I watched closely as it spread out across the ground my feet touched. You’d think that starving soil would greedily drink the waters down, but instead, hard and dry it resisted. But the water would not be denied its purpose, and it waited patiently for the soil to open up. After several minutes it had all worked its way down. I wondered still more about the nature of the well. I decided to be patient as the water had, and watch to see the water’s affect on the soil.
The next morning I wandered by, unobserved to steal a glance at the water in the daylight. After a quick glance around, I dropped to my stomach and crawled closer, uncovering the well. Looking down, I saw a dark glimmer deep below. I did not see the well’s lady. Deep inside me, I heard a call to her and resisted the urge to release it out loud, even just in a whisper.
As I sat back on my knees, and dusted off my hands, I looked around the spot and recognized it was the same place I’d dumped the bucket the night before. Reaching for the rope, I pulled up another heavy bucket, straining more in the intense heat than I had the night before. As I pulled it over the edge I stared into the bucket, lost in the ripples crashing back and forth. Most often it’s quiet, spreading through the soil, the words I’d read last night splashed back and forth in my mind. I tipped the bucket over again. This time, I didn’t wait to see it soak in. I lowered the bucket back silently, concealed my treasure and crawled until I felt it a safe distance to stand and journey away.
And so my nights continued, traveling to the well and pouring out its wild and peaceful waters across the field. ‘Till one morning I walked toward my well, and as I stared carefully down at the ground, hoping to catch a glance down at the deep waters, I saw something yellow. It was like fire, or the sun, a butterfly. I dropped to my knees in this place, as I had dozens of times before. My breath heavy and my movements clumsy, I reached out to touch its gentle petals. The stem was long and lovely, a picture of beauty we’d long been starved of. Something had grown in this desert. That night I returned, and I drew more then one bucket of water, I drew them over and over, spilling them out across the field until I felt I couldn’t pull the weight of the waters up again. “One last time, and this one will be for a different desert” I concluded. Pulling its heavy red host from the well’s edge, I braced it with both arms and rested it on the ground in front of me. I sat there, a cross-legged quiet warrior. The one who’d waited patient as these waters. The one who’d moved in the darkness of night, not seen by those who should love and embrace me. I sat there, the promise of change in my arms. I offered both my hands to the wild creature in the bucket, and it rushed into my palms to thank me. Filled to the top, I pulled it out and splashed it across my face. A deep gasp, and then a laugh. Next, I reached deep and filled the cup of my hands, raising it to my lips. As the water trickled down my throat, I thought of that hard soil that had resisted to no avail. I felt its coldness run all the way down into the deepest parts of my stomach and heart. I felt awake, alive. I drank again, and again. I couldn’t escape the feeling that my desert was turning into a garden, and I was growing.
We have not yet seen the rain, but the flowers are growing. Some speculate that its magic. Others say science. Logically, it had to come eventually, the soil just needed time to reconstruct and heal itself. Whatever the reason they try to give it, they can’t fully believe it themselves.
This morning I woke, tired from another night’s unseen work. The people are beginning to see the beauty spreading, flowers across the fields. I see a rain cloud growing just above them. I am little, but I am growing too and they may not recognize me. I am the lady in the well, deep calling unto deep. I am the one who waters in the desert, who works in the night, who calls the flowers and waits like the waters, wild and peaceful.
I am Hope.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
It's actually happened, a friend had to ask me "What's up with you and NOT blogging?"
So, with that loving prompt, I'm back. I didn't get to blog in Tennessee about some things I'd wanted, and had committed to writing on those topics before moving on....and thus I remained. So here it is, I'll have to catch up on those topics when I find the opportunity, but for now I am incredibly busy this week and will leave you with this photo Kim sent me from the blog Creature Comfort Blog. She said it reminded her of me, and I'm certainly happy it did....I love this. I think we are all curious to find how others perceive us, and our sense of beauty. I love it when people send me things that reminded them of me, or they thought I'd like, especially when its something I really do love. Lately Samara has sent me couple things that I absolutely loved, and I loved that they made her think of me. Thanks Samara :)
And thanks for this photo Kimberly, its lovely.
Feet, and a unique capturing of something vintage and classically pretty...definitely something I'd find beautiful. I love the light in the photo, and its combination of simplicity and detail. I think if I could do anything, it would include traveling, photography, clothes, and writing. :) Okay, and a million other things. I love to capture beauty from different perspectives, both through writing and photography (I miss my camera...).
So, with that loving prompt, I'm back. I didn't get to blog in Tennessee about some things I'd wanted, and had committed to writing on those topics before moving on....and thus I remained. So here it is, I'll have to catch up on those topics when I find the opportunity, but for now I am incredibly busy this week and will leave you with this photo Kim sent me from the blog Creature Comfort Blog. She said it reminded her of me, and I'm certainly happy it did....I love this. I think we are all curious to find how others perceive us, and our sense of beauty. I love it when people send me things that reminded them of me, or they thought I'd like, especially when its something I really do love. Lately Samara has sent me couple things that I absolutely loved, and I loved that they made her think of me. Thanks Samara :)
And thanks for this photo Kimberly, its lovely.
Feet, and a unique capturing of something vintage and classically pretty...definitely something I'd find beautiful. I love the light in the photo, and its combination of simplicity and detail. I think if I could do anything, it would include traveling, photography, clothes, and writing. :) Okay, and a million other things. I love to capture beauty from different perspectives, both through writing and photography (I miss my camera...).
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Life is full of decisions.
I suppose this is a blessing. I know it is. God chose to give us a free will. He chose to let us make decisions. And at times, He lays two options before us and says, I'll bless either one, now you choose. I don't know why these moments are so hard for me, why it is so difficult for me to look at my own heart and search for which direction I want to take. But it is.
I don't know if I have ever felt like I've had more decisions to make. Like life is truly FULL of decisions. I suppose these questions are always there, but its easy to begin living life on autopilot, continuing in what you've been doing. Comfortable. I don't want to be comfortable in life, or life by default. But decisions are so stink'n hard. And I don't want to miss the Lord in my life, moreover, I don't want to miss the BEST.
In the midst of this season, it's been such a blessing to come to Tennessee for a spell. I've slept more this week already then the past month I think. And after sleeping for long hours, I wake up and still have time to spend hours with the Lord.
He has always been faithful, faithful to lead me. And I'm resting in that...keeping my eyes on His face, and not on the waves.
I've noticed in the midst of these decisions, He's been bringing me back to the bigger picture. The prophetic words spoken over my life have suddenly taken on greater weight, and the passions that break me open are constantly before me. Conversations have been coming up every day reminding me of the life I want to live, a life of sacrifice and passion, that takes risks and has costs, and pays highly. Its coming back to the basics, love that fits the bill.
I suppose this is a blessing. I know it is. God chose to give us a free will. He chose to let us make decisions. And at times, He lays two options before us and says, I'll bless either one, now you choose. I don't know why these moments are so hard for me, why it is so difficult for me to look at my own heart and search for which direction I want to take. But it is.
I don't know if I have ever felt like I've had more decisions to make. Like life is truly FULL of decisions. I suppose these questions are always there, but its easy to begin living life on autopilot, continuing in what you've been doing. Comfortable. I don't want to be comfortable in life, or life by default. But decisions are so stink'n hard. And I don't want to miss the Lord in my life, moreover, I don't want to miss the BEST.
In the midst of this season, it's been such a blessing to come to Tennessee for a spell. I've slept more this week already then the past month I think. And after sleeping for long hours, I wake up and still have time to spend hours with the Lord.
He has always been faithful, faithful to lead me. And I'm resting in that...keeping my eyes on His face, and not on the waves.
I've noticed in the midst of these decisions, He's been bringing me back to the bigger picture. The prophetic words spoken over my life have suddenly taken on greater weight, and the passions that break me open are constantly before me. Conversations have been coming up every day reminding me of the life I want to live, a life of sacrifice and passion, that takes risks and has costs, and pays highly. Its coming back to the basics, love that fits the bill.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Summer.
I celebrated summer break on Saturday by sleeping in. It was unbelievable. I dedicated the whole day to rest and forced myself not to think much of my coming to-do list. Katherine and Kolleen and I went grocery shopping, took my car to be cleaned, we vacuumed it and went to Alderwood Mall to get my laptop fixed.
Then it was off to the Sounders Game! I had an absolute blast with three of my best friends downtown. We wandered looking for food and came across the Sounders Marching Band and "March to Qwest" that we had known nothing about. Quite a way to put you in the mood for a good match!
We found gelato--- amazing gelato! And ended up being food in the stadium. The first half especially was so exciting, and we won 2-1! 
Sunday, work (with Morgan, which made it pretty enjoyable) and much more excitement to be expounded on later.
Monday, I worked from home and spent a remarkable number of hours in or on my bed. :0
Tuesday I went into work early (got coffee with Abby on the way) and got what I needed to done, had lunch with Rosie and Abby and then with Morgan (lol). Came home, and ended up taking a three hour nap! (Wasn't expecting that). Then woke up just in time to run to Jeff and Elise's. Last night was our first session of Financial Peace University. As well, I think it was our first time hanging out as "the neighborhood" with out new addition of Aime. :) 
Elise made delicious homemade pizzas before and we got to catch up some and talk about the exciting wedding plans. 
Before everyone else got there, Elise pulled me around to her desk and pulled out two tickets---- I looked at them and the hugest smile snuck out, "how'd you get them?" She said, "I bought two more for another night." That is right, Elise and I are going to see Wicked in October!!!!! If you didn't know, I have wanted to see this broadway show for close to 4 years! Awww, I am very excited for our date night! Thank you Elise!!!
Then on to FPU, I am so excited about this class. One session in and I surprising don't feel depressed, but really hopeful. I am so grateful that I am going to get practical financial tools at such a young age. He shows how small things in our twenties can really make an impressive impact on our future.
I celebrated summer break on Saturday by sleeping in. It was unbelievable. I dedicated the whole day to rest and forced myself not to think much of my coming to-do list. Katherine and Kolleen and I went grocery shopping, took my car to be cleaned, we vacuumed it and went to Alderwood Mall to get my laptop fixed.
Then it was off to the Sounders Game! I had an absolute blast with three of my best friends downtown. We wandered looking for food and came across the Sounders Marching Band and "March to Qwest" that we had known nothing about. Quite a way to put you in the mood for a good match!
We found gelato--- amazing gelato! And ended up being food in the stadium. The first half especially was so exciting, and we won 2-1! 
Sunday, work (with Morgan, which made it pretty enjoyable) and much more excitement to be expounded on later. 
Monday, I worked from home and spent a remarkable number of hours in or on my bed. :0
Tuesday I went into work early (got coffee with Abby on the way) and got what I needed to done, had lunch with Rosie and Abby and then with Morgan (lol). Came home, and ended up taking a three hour nap! (Wasn't expecting that). Then woke up just in time to run to Jeff and Elise's. Last night was our first session of Financial Peace University. As well, I think it was our first time hanging out as "the neighborhood" with out new addition of Aime. :) 
Elise made delicious homemade pizzas before and we got to catch up some and talk about the exciting wedding plans. 
Before everyone else got there, Elise pulled me around to her desk and pulled out two tickets---- I looked at them and the hugest smile snuck out, "how'd you get them?" She said, "I bought two more for another night." That is right, Elise and I are going to see Wicked in October!!!!! If you didn't know, I have wanted to see this broadway show for close to 4 years! Awww, I am very excited for our date night! Thank you Elise!!!Then on to FPU, I am so excited about this class. One session in and I surprising don't feel depressed, but really hopeful. I am so grateful that I am going to get practical financial tools at such a young age. He shows how small things in our twenties can really make an impressive impact on our future.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
I have just officially begun my summer break. I have almost exactly one hour 'til I need to be ready to leave for homegroup and I'm not sure what to do with it. Not enough time to nap and get ready (and you know a nap is definitely my first choice!). My room is clean. My bathroom is clean. My car- Aw! That may be it. Lame celebration though :/
I already made my to-do list for the next two weeks, perhaps I will get started on that.
Yeah for summer- once I get caught up on a bit of sleep I will be busting out the books! YEAH!
I already made my to-do list for the next two weeks, perhaps I will get started on that.
Yeah for summer- once I get caught up on a bit of sleep I will be busting out the books! YEAH!
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Septmeber 8th!
Here is what Barnes & Noble has to say:
Synopsis
#1 bestselling author Nicholas Sparks's new novel is at once a compelling family drama and a heartrending tale of young love.
Seventeen year old Veronica "Ronnie" Miller's life was turned upside-down when her parents divorced and her father moved from New York City to Wilmington, North Carolina. Three years later, she remains angry and alientated from her parents, especially her father...until her mother decides it would be in everyone's best interest if she spent the summer in Wilmington with him. Ronnie's father, a former concert pianist and teacher, is living a quiet life in the beach town, immersed in creating a work of art that will become the centerpiece of a local church.
The tale that unfolds is an unforgettable story of love on many levels--first love, love between parents and children -- that demonstrates, as only a Nicholas Sparks novel can, the many ways that love can break our hearts...and heal them.
Biography
Sparks is a sort of national sweetheart -- a good-looking family man who writes heart-tugging novels that rarely fail to elicit tears or book sales. His wildly popular The Notebook kicked off a steady string of quietly triumphant love stories.
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
Just a quick vent.
Why hasn't Nicholas Sparks made any mention of a new book yet!? Huh? I know how it goes. I know he will begin making talk of it right about now and I will spend much of my summer wanting desperately to get my hands on it. At the end of the summer he will even pre-release the first chapter and I will excitedly eat it up. Then, I will return to classes and right as I start to get overloaded with homework and reading assignments, the book will be released. I will make time THAT day to drive to Barnes & Noble and appreciate the displays of it that line the front entrance. I will grab my own beautiful hard bound copy and get in line to purchase it. I will carry it with pride out to my car, set the bag carefully on the back seat. Drive home, take it out, remove any price stickers with the utmost care. Then I will place it on the bottom shelf with all his others and wait for Thanksgiving to finally get to read it! Oh, there will be a number of cases during that time that I will pull it out, thumb through it, smell it, touch the pages, even re-read the back and study the front cover for hints. I'll ponder why he chose that picture. Where is the place on the cover? What is it a symbol of? But I will set it back on the shelf and force myself to wait.
As of now, no mention of another book.
Why hasn't Nicholas Sparks made any mention of a new book yet!? Huh? I know how it goes. I know he will begin making talk of it right about now and I will spend much of my summer wanting desperately to get my hands on it. At the end of the summer he will even pre-release the first chapter and I will excitedly eat it up. Then, I will return to classes and right as I start to get overloaded with homework and reading assignments, the book will be released. I will make time THAT day to drive to Barnes & Noble and appreciate the displays of it that line the front entrance. I will grab my own beautiful hard bound copy and get in line to purchase it. I will carry it with pride out to my car, set the bag carefully on the back seat. Drive home, take it out, remove any price stickers with the utmost care. Then I will place it on the bottom shelf with all his others and wait for Thanksgiving to finally get to read it! Oh, there will be a number of cases during that time that I will pull it out, thumb through it, smell it, touch the pages, even re-read the back and study the front cover for hints. I'll ponder why he chose that picture. Where is the place on the cover? What is it a symbol of? But I will set it back on the shelf and force myself to wait.
As of now, no mention of another book.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Random story:
Yesterday I am in the bathroom. (all great stories start this way).
I go over, and with my pinky roll out the sufficient amount of paper towel from the dispenser. All the while there is a girl to my right who is washing her hands. I then turn on the faucet (I'm standing right between the said girl washing her hands, and the paper towel dispenser I've prepped-- one of like 8 in this bathroom). As I'm washing my hands and counting in my head-- The aforementioned girl turns off the faucet with her hands, and then GRABS the paper towel she must have seen me just prep.
She dries her hands, tosses the towel and leaves.
I was deeply bothered and had to choose right then not to be offended. That was the biggest decision I have had to make to not receive an offense in quite some time. Clearly, I'm still battling it some. WHY? She'd seen me do it. I wouldn't have minded if perhaps she'd used it to dispense MORE paper towel and leave some for me... And if she had already used her once clean hands to turn off the faucet that she already used her dirty hands to turn on--- why not use those now dirty hands to get her own paper towel to dry her wet, dirty hands? Or why even wash her hands, since by the point she tossed that paper towel and grasped that door handle to leave, they were already dirty again!?
"What is this ____ on my hands? Look! It's there again!"
Yep. Just something I've been pondering. At this point I'm not really bothered, just very entertained. One of those things that happen to you and you feel its so remarkable that you have to share it with someone. Someone knowingly stole my paper towel yesterday, right before my eyes.
Huh. Love. I know. :P
Yesterday I am in the bathroom. (all great stories start this way).
I go over, and with my pinky roll out the sufficient amount of paper towel from the dispenser. All the while there is a girl to my right who is washing her hands. I then turn on the faucet (I'm standing right between the said girl washing her hands, and the paper towel dispenser I've prepped-- one of like 8 in this bathroom). As I'm washing my hands and counting in my head-- The aforementioned girl turns off the faucet with her hands, and then GRABS the paper towel she must have seen me just prep.
She dries her hands, tosses the towel and leaves.
I was deeply bothered and had to choose right then not to be offended. That was the biggest decision I have had to make to not receive an offense in quite some time. Clearly, I'm still battling it some. WHY? She'd seen me do it. I wouldn't have minded if perhaps she'd used it to dispense MORE paper towel and leave some for me... And if she had already used her once clean hands to turn off the faucet that she already used her dirty hands to turn on--- why not use those now dirty hands to get her own paper towel to dry her wet, dirty hands? Or why even wash her hands, since by the point she tossed that paper towel and grasped that door handle to leave, they were already dirty again!?
"What is this ____ on my hands? Look! It's there again!"
Yep. Just something I've been pondering. At this point I'm not really bothered, just very entertained. One of those things that happen to you and you feel its so remarkable that you have to share it with someone. Someone knowingly stole my paper towel yesterday, right before my eyes.
Huh. Love. I know. :P
Monday, May 11, 2009
On Mother's Day, I returned home from my early morning test to find my mom wasn't home. :/ So, Dad and I took off to do some last minute errands. While my dad wandered Best Buy...I drove down the lot to one of my favorite stores, Barnes and Noble! Melissa had told me about a book called "He Loves Me" and I was anxious to get my hands on it. So I wandered in and found the Christian section (which has been moved a few rows to the right). The trouble was, I didn't know who the author was. And I wasn't even sure I had the title right. But as I scanned through the shelves, picking up each one that had either a catching title or a great cover, I found a little treasure.
The spine of the book said "Crazy Love." It was a simple red, a deep autumn red leaf, and the words were simple. The cover of the book had two hand drawn arrows, one up, one down. Thats it. The right bottom corner says "Overwhelmed by a relentless God." Only just now am I realizing that I've been asking God to "overwhelm" me! (Oh MY WORD!). But immediately I knew this could be the book I've been thirsty for. I read the back, and bought it! I cannot WAIT to start this book! Its been a long time since I wanted to skip sleep and just read....but last night I had to convince myself to leave the book on the night stand. This morning I excitedly read the prologue.
I'll keep you all updated, but I am so excited, I couldn't wait to tell you all about it. My expectations are high, and I really believe this is a little treasure my relentless and adventurous God left for me to discover in B&N shelves. :)
(I also found "He Loves Me" and I am incredibly excited to read that too--- I decided to wait on it till I can read it with a friend!)
Here is a review of Francis Chan's Crazy Love on Tim Challies's blog:
There are many voices critiquing the North American church today. The voices come from both within and without; from those who love the church and those who hate it. We all know that there is something wrong. But what? In many cases the prescription is the same while the cure varies widely. In his new book Crazy Love, first-time author Francis Chan, pastor of Cornerstone Church in Simi Valley, California, regular speaker at Passion conferences and other events, and the guy who recorded that “Just Stop and Think” evangelistic video where he walks for miles holding a surfboard, takes his opportunity to challenge the church. “This book,” he says, “is written for those who want more Jesus. It is for those who are bored with what American Christianity offers. It is for those who don’t want to plateau, who would rather die before their convictions do.” It is a book that is meant to change the way Christians live their lives.
There are two ways of critiquing the church. We can critique out of love or out of disgust. Chan is committed to critiquing the church as an act of love. In a recent interview, when asked about the emergent church, he said this: “As a pastor I hear a lot of emergent leaders talk about what is wrong with the church. It comes across as someone who doesn’t love the church. I’m a pastor first and foremost, and I’m trying to offer a solution or a model of what church should look like. I’m going back to scripture and seeing what the church was in its simplest form and trying to recreate that in my own church. I’m not coming up with anything new. I’m calling people to go back to the way it was. I’m not bashing the church. I’m loving it.” And his love for the church is obvious throughout this book.
The format of Crazy Love is straightforward and effective. Chan dedicates three chapters to renewing our understanding of the character of God and seven chapters calling Christians to examine themselves. Within the book are two ongoing themes that are going to get people talking.
The first theme is that we must painstakingly examine ourselves. We cannot assume we are saved, or to use the biblical metaphor, we cannot assume that we are the good soil. Chan calls the reader to a serious self-inventory through a chapter that provides a profile of the lukewarm. He concludes, “a lukewarm Christian is an oxymoron; there’s no such thing. To put it plainly, churchgoers who are ‘lukewarm’ are not Christians. We will not see them in heaven.” God wants all or nothing.
The second theme is deeply counter-cultural, going against the stream of both Christian and secular culture. It is this: live your best life later. Chan wants to see Christians living differently—living in a way that is markedly different from those around them. He wants to see Christians forgoing much of what we consider necessary, what we consider our due, in order to focus on treasures that are eternal. He wants us to get outside the realm of what is comfortable to us and focus instead on radical obedience. “God doesn’t call us to be comfortable. He calls us to trust Him so completely that we are unafraid to put ourselves in situations where we will be in trouble if He doesn’t come through.”
These two themes and a focus on the Scriptures serve to create a powerful and deeply challenging book. There is a very obvious commitment here to teach Scriptural principles from the Scriptures and to invite the reader to verify what he is writing from those same Scriptures. Not surprisingly, the book’s weakest chapter is the one that depends least on the Bible. It is a chapter providing examples of men and women who have made radical choices to live radically different. At least a couple of examples are of people who are probably not the best examples overall because as they’ve jettisoned their old lives, they’ve also jettisoned too much good theology.
That small critique aside, I found that this is a paradigm-shaking book with a message that Christians desperately need to hear. Too many of us are living too safely and too easily. But for the brief moments we spend at church each week, we are practically indistinguishable from the unbelievers around us. This is not the way it is meant to be. The church could use a loving exhortation and Chan delivers well.
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
Yep, time to blog again.
It's a rainy evening and I'm drinking a hot beverage and studying- how could I resist blogging? Then again, I am short for words this evening. Many emotions, many thoughts, few audible words.
You know those times you feel like so much is going on inside and some internal form must be changing, but you aren't able to see it or understand it just yet? Thats this evening. I think some attitudes are surfacing that need to be dealt with, but I can't fully put my finger on them yet, or what actions need to be taken. Do I just need to repent and ask God to change them? Maybe thats it right there. And beyond that, I feel like I need to press through something, into something new. But I can't fully comprehend it. I'm still a student, and I see no job change in the near future, but I think it's stepping into a new level in both of these things. A level of intentionality, or organization, or prioritization. :/
Something's going deeper. Something is changing and getting ready for a new step. Maybe it is Monroe. It would be silly for me to deny that praying about moving to the Monroe church is affecting me deeply. With this sort of a move, I know that my friendships can change, and many will. Some will not, some will pursue me just the same, or even deeper, but others will not and that will be okay too. I know that things will need to change, and I think my heart is busy disconnecting in some places and reconnecting in others....and this evening there is a bit of evaluation about whether or not I am allowing any coldness to creep in while these changes are happening. I don't want coldness in my heart.
Its funny, one of the guys called me a "hippy christian" at Bible Study monday night, light-heartedly. Something like "hippy christians like Kati who are all about love" and its true. I couldn't deny it, and I've been thinking about it the last couple days. And then today I felt like I fell really short of that love- and if I am going to be a hippy christian, I better at least learn how to love. My favorite verses are about love. I must dwell at least once a day (more like 15!) on the verse, "He who is forgiven much, loves much" and "If I speak with the tongues of angels and move mountains, but have not love I am nothing but a squeaking gate" and "This is pure and spotless religion, to care for the orphan and the widow." Those may not be exact translations, but they are deep, deep in my heart and I WANT TO BECOME LOVE.
Really, I am not led by emotions, but I want to be led by love. The Bible says, they'll know us by our love. THAT is our mark. AGH. Really, I could groan right now out of frustration- because I am just beginning to learn what this love feels like, this love that creeps into your bones, and gets into your blood and makes you want to cry suddenly because you so badly want those you love to KNOW the Father, to be overcome by His love and affection and truth and destiny! I want it more, I want it to be so deep in me and through me that it really does overwhelm those I come into contact with and they get saved because they feel Love and I can't deny it, and they can't deny it and it's undeniable LOVE. :)
So yeah, I like to be barefoot, and I really do think it comes down to this, Love. There are three things for us to do now until the completeness of God, Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, and love extravagantly, and the greatest of the three is love.
I think I'm a hippy christian. :)
It's a rainy evening and I'm drinking a hot beverage and studying- how could I resist blogging? Then again, I am short for words this evening. Many emotions, many thoughts, few audible words.
You know those times you feel like so much is going on inside and some internal form must be changing, but you aren't able to see it or understand it just yet? Thats this evening. I think some attitudes are surfacing that need to be dealt with, but I can't fully put my finger on them yet, or what actions need to be taken. Do I just need to repent and ask God to change them? Maybe thats it right there. And beyond that, I feel like I need to press through something, into something new. But I can't fully comprehend it. I'm still a student, and I see no job change in the near future, but I think it's stepping into a new level in both of these things. A level of intentionality, or organization, or prioritization. :/
Something's going deeper. Something is changing and getting ready for a new step. Maybe it is Monroe. It would be silly for me to deny that praying about moving to the Monroe church is affecting me deeply. With this sort of a move, I know that my friendships can change, and many will. Some will not, some will pursue me just the same, or even deeper, but others will not and that will be okay too. I know that things will need to change, and I think my heart is busy disconnecting in some places and reconnecting in others....and this evening there is a bit of evaluation about whether or not I am allowing any coldness to creep in while these changes are happening. I don't want coldness in my heart.
Its funny, one of the guys called me a "hippy christian" at Bible Study monday night, light-heartedly. Something like "hippy christians like Kati who are all about love" and its true. I couldn't deny it, and I've been thinking about it the last couple days. And then today I felt like I fell really short of that love- and if I am going to be a hippy christian, I better at least learn how to love. My favorite verses are about love. I must dwell at least once a day (more like 15!) on the verse, "He who is forgiven much, loves much" and "If I speak with the tongues of angels and move mountains, but have not love I am nothing but a squeaking gate" and "This is pure and spotless religion, to care for the orphan and the widow." Those may not be exact translations, but they are deep, deep in my heart and I WANT TO BECOME LOVE.
Really, I am not led by emotions, but I want to be led by love. The Bible says, they'll know us by our love. THAT is our mark. AGH. Really, I could groan right now out of frustration- because I am just beginning to learn what this love feels like, this love that creeps into your bones, and gets into your blood and makes you want to cry suddenly because you so badly want those you love to KNOW the Father, to be overcome by His love and affection and truth and destiny! I want it more, I want it to be so deep in me and through me that it really does overwhelm those I come into contact with and they get saved because they feel Love and I can't deny it, and they can't deny it and it's undeniable LOVE. :)
So yeah, I like to be barefoot, and I really do think it comes down to this, Love. There are three things for us to do now until the completeness of God, Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, and love extravagantly, and the greatest of the three is love.
I think I'm a hippy christian. :)
Friday, April 24, 2009
Time to dream again.
I'd ask, "ever have those days (weeks, months) where you just want to cry? The ones where you forget the deadline, oversleep, seem off with your friends, or simply feel you haven't seen them in ages? The season where you feel the things you are waiting for will never happen?" Was that a yes? Well, that is why I decided to not even ask. It seems like a lot of people around me are going through this same sort of feelings- like something is close, but not close and its easy to get disheartened.
I've been there for a few days, and I don't think my dad even knew what to do with a 'depressed kati.' But yesterday I started to pull out of it. I just decided to refocus for the present, this moment, this day, this adventure. I am here, and I am going to enjoy every detail of it. Yesterday was a choice, today it is more of a natural joy moving through me.
I had a very productive day, and even an hour to semi-nap in the sun (with my architecture book beside me....somehow assuring me that I was somewhat studying- or not). I just enjoyed a delicious steak dinner and amazing salad (I literally just ate some of the lettuce all alone because it was so sweet and refreshing!). I'm now cleaning the kitchen and making sweet tea....
...and midway through (the dishwasher door is still open and the tea is boiling on the stove) I just felt like dreaming. Maybe part of it is the George Strait playing pleasantly in the room :) It's good to be here, to be in this season of my life with all its uncertainties and daily changes. Its good to have made new close friends in the past months. It is good. And its good to let myself dream.......
I'd ask, "ever have those days (weeks, months) where you just want to cry? The ones where you forget the deadline, oversleep, seem off with your friends, or simply feel you haven't seen them in ages? The season where you feel the things you are waiting for will never happen?" Was that a yes? Well, that is why I decided to not even ask. It seems like a lot of people around me are going through this same sort of feelings- like something is close, but not close and its easy to get disheartened.
I've been there for a few days, and I don't think my dad even knew what to do with a 'depressed kati.' But yesterday I started to pull out of it. I just decided to refocus for the present, this moment, this day, this adventure. I am here, and I am going to enjoy every detail of it. Yesterday was a choice, today it is more of a natural joy moving through me.
I had a very productive day, and even an hour to semi-nap in the sun (with my architecture book beside me....somehow assuring me that I was somewhat studying- or not). I just enjoyed a delicious steak dinner and amazing salad (I literally just ate some of the lettuce all alone because it was so sweet and refreshing!). I'm now cleaning the kitchen and making sweet tea....
...and midway through (the dishwasher door is still open and the tea is boiling on the stove) I just felt like dreaming. Maybe part of it is the George Strait playing pleasantly in the room :) It's good to be here, to be in this season of my life with all its uncertainties and daily changes. Its good to have made new close friends in the past months. It is good. And its good to let myself dream.......
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
hey guess what, I'm about to head out to the doctor's...surprise, I know!?
No, thankfully its a foot and ankle specialist and I am very excited. I have been being better about running and I'm starting to enjoy it a lot, especially with this great sunshine and if I run with a friend, or my ipod ;) But I keep getting stunted by my old ankle and knee problems and I'm about done with them. I finally went and saw Dr. Curtis about it and got a referral back to a foot specialist (something I had done years ago in my glory soccer days). Looks like I will be getting orthotics and then I expect to be pretty much ready to get my endurance going! In case you didn't know, I signed up for a half marathon with Aime and Cami Morrill for this June and time is running out to build up to those 13 miles! ;-0
AS WELL, in case you didn't know, that same beloved Aime Morrill is now courting (or rather, being courted by) Robert, and I don't think I could be happier. :) I am excited to watch this adventure unfold in the coming months.
No, thankfully its a foot and ankle specialist and I am very excited. I have been being better about running and I'm starting to enjoy it a lot, especially with this great sunshine and if I run with a friend, or my ipod ;) But I keep getting stunted by my old ankle and knee problems and I'm about done with them. I finally went and saw Dr. Curtis about it and got a referral back to a foot specialist (something I had done years ago in my glory soccer days). Looks like I will be getting orthotics and then I expect to be pretty much ready to get my endurance going! In case you didn't know, I signed up for a half marathon with Aime and Cami Morrill for this June and time is running out to build up to those 13 miles! ;-0
AS WELL, in case you didn't know, that same beloved Aime Morrill is now courting (or rather, being courted by) Robert, and I don't think I could be happier. :) I am excited to watch this adventure unfold in the coming months.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
I am ready to be done being sick. Today I went to the doctor yet again and found I have a sinus infection. Lovely. At least i can expect to be all rid of this stuff by next week! I am at the point where you start to feel guilty almost for being sick....you start to wonder if you are the weird sick kid who people don't want to get too close to. LOL.
Maybe I shouldn't laugh.
Well, I'd like to announce that my car is clean- er. And that I am already in week 3 of classes- that means 7 weeks (and two days) left until finals....and 8 weeks (and 2 days) until summer!
Also, we've moved our office from Bellevue to Kirkland, right near the church which is super exciting for me! (less traffic, easier lunch dates!)
And, I am listening to hear if I am to go to Monroe. :)
In case you hadn't realized it, life is exciting!
Maybe I shouldn't laugh.
Well, I'd like to announce that my car is clean- er. And that I am already in week 3 of classes- that means 7 weeks (and two days) left until finals....and 8 weeks (and 2 days) until summer!
Also, we've moved our office from Bellevue to Kirkland, right near the church which is super exciting for me! (less traffic, easier lunch dates!)
And, I am listening to hear if I am to go to Monroe. :)
In case you hadn't realized it, life is exciting!
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