"Plan? I don't even have a 'pl' !"

I'm big on plans these days. The freelance life is making me understand what a valuable resource time is and how easily it's misspent - especially in thinking I am working when really, I'm "working." So I have a few resources that I use to keep me honest and accountable with how I spend the hours of the day, and how much of it is 100% work related. 

This week, I was all about time documentation and working like a woman possessed (thanks to the wisdom that led me to choose a deadline of January 1st for a substantial project...and then forget about the looming deadline until last week). I was all organized and motivated and putting the pedal to the medal. 

And then yesterday, my mom called and said she had an accident at work. She dropped a butcher block on her foot and needed to be picked up. And thus began a stream of appointments that ended in the ER with a fashionable boot, a new collection of stitches, and a CD of x-rays depicting the "pick-up sticks" fracture to her big toe. 

(And when I nearly passed out in the tiny evaluation room at the sight of said fracture, I knew once and for all that we could just put to bed any thoughts of an impending medical career.)

My mom is a trooper. She has kept a good attitude throughout the entire ordeal and rarely asks for anything. She's the type of person who is a JOY to serve because you just want her to be treated like she would treat anyone else - going above and beyond without complaint.

So it's times like these when a neat plan gets messy and doesn't seem so important anymore. Because life isn't plannable, and trying to make it that way is really the best way to get gray hair. 

The Christmas cards are going to be late, and so are some presents, but I don't think anyone will mind all that much. Christmas baking has been put on a temporary hold, but I'm sure we'll get to it before too long. I have no idea what's for dinner for the rest of the week, but tomorrow the grocery store and I have a date and we're BFF's so we'll figure it out. Deadlines loom, but isn't all of the best work produced when the pressure is on anyway?!

I guess my long and rambling point is: plans are good, plans are wise. We're called to be good stewards of the time and resources we've been given. But perhaps it's equally wise to be willing to pitch the plan out the window when real life comes to call. It's usually much more important anyway.

People who don’t know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met. Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes.

Matthew 6:33-34

whipped cream and wind chill

Last Friday I learned what it means to work at a Starbucks that is located inside of a Target. 

Specifically, what it means when the Friday in question is Black.

Oh yes, my friends, I got a first-hand experience with the other side of Black Friday....the darker side, one might say: the midnight to 8am shift.

It was less harrowing than it sounds. Honestly, we weren't nearly as busy as anticipated and had plenty of hands on deck, so it wasn't bad at all. 

But I did have the chance to learn something else overnight. If you've ever been to Starbucks, you know that almost every drink has the option for whipped cream. On a normal day, it's about a 50/50 split for people who accept the whipped cream offer and those who decline. But on Black Friday, at least 90% went for the whipped cream. And it was usually followed by something to the effect of, "If I'm getting up at 3am to shop, I'm getting whipped cream on my latte." It's seen as a fair trade: doing something miserable (getting up before dawn) deserves a reimbursement (whipped cream). It's a reward for doing something that you'd rather not do. 

I tried to exercise the same right before my workout yesterday. I've been increasing my running time every week by 5 minutes and yesterday I was supposed to go for a 40 minute run. But it was cold outside, so I started down the fair trade path: I could workout inside instead; if I do go out, I don't have to run for 40 minutes, I'll just go for a quick run around the block; I'll just run for the duration of this sermon (I like to call this the holy option). 

I don't think anyone would take issue with me voting in favor of any of those alternatives. It was thirty degrees outside with the wind chill and really, who wants to go out in that? It's the same as the whipped cream option. No one would fault a Starbucks patron for indulging at dark thirty in the morning when you need toothpicks to keep your eyes open pre-caffeine.

It's human nature to validate exceptions to the rules. And people go out of their way to affirm wandering from the straight and narrow under abnormal circumstances: have whipped cream at 3am! don't go running when it's below freezing! have a bowl of ice cream at midnight when you're feeling depressed! skip a workout when you'd rather stay in sweatpants and watch Hallmark movies! We seem to cheer each other on in order to validate the times when we opt for the exceptions as well. I know this because I'm the head cheerleader.

But I'm not sure we're doing each other any favors.

What I was really doing when I was workout bargaining yesterday was making excuses. Namely: "I don't want to be uncomfortable, so it's ok for me to choose something more comfortable." I didn't want to suffer those first unbearable steps in the freezing cold. 

However, we have these amazing things in North America called coats. I know! So cool! So I put one on and started running before I could talk myself out of it. At the outset, I was still going with the holy option: I was only running for the duration of the sermon I was listening to, which was about 30 minutes long. And that was reasonable because at least I made the effort to go out for a run.

Ten minutes later...I hit pause so I could unzip my coat. 

Fifteen minutes later...I hit pause so I could take my coat off entirely. 

Not only was the cold bearable, it didn't even seem like a negative factor after I worked up substantial body heat. 

Excuses: 0. Reality: 1. 

Next point: the sermon I was listening to was about taking responsibility for our lives. The scripture was the parable of the talents in Matthew 25. The main point? We have to decide how to leverage the gifts we've been given so that we can maximize their return. Our time, our abilities, our possessions - they're all on loan. And it's our responsibility to decide how to use them best, knowing that some day, we'll be asked to account for how we lived. 

So I'm listing to this sermon and my heart is just swelling with the desire to make the most of the investment God has made in me by giving me life and the ability to know Him. And I'm all fired up! And I'm running with a vengeance! And it's not even a question anymore: I'm SO running those last 10 minutes! Hello?! It's only 10 minutes longer! Why would I cheat myself out of a victory? Why would I site a clause in an agreement I made with myself that, in the end, doesn't benefit my long-term goals? Why wouldn't I choose to be initially uncomfortable if it means I'll ultimately be contributing to making the most of what I've been given - the ability to run and keep commitments and be healthy?

It seemed so crazy to me that I wouldn't run the whole 40 minutes and do so gladly...when just a few minutes prior it seemed so crazy to be that I would run the whole 40 minutes and do so grudgingly. 

Excuses: 0. Reality: 2.

pinned here via here

I'm not saying that there isn't a time and place to have whipped cream or to skip a workout. There's a measure of grace that is necessary and appropriate. But more often than not, my measure of grace is just a glorified excuse, and I'm cheating myself out of a greater victory. 

What do I want more than whipped cream at 3am? To get the day off to a healthy start and feel good about my decisions 5 hours from now. 

What do I want more than not being cold for the first 10 minutes of my run? To honor a commitment I made and make the most of the body I've been given. 

What do I want more than a life's worth of understandable exceptions? A life's worth of staying focused on the goal and achieving a victory, especially when it's hardest won.

So why would I settle for anything less?

a grateful heart covers a multitude of sins

Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.

1 Peter 4:8

I'm learning the truth of this verse, that love really does cover a multitude of sins. And not just love of other people, as the verse suggests, but a sincere love of life and of the Lord. 

We've more than covered the fact that I've struggled with lingering discontent over my present circumstances. (Don't worry, we're not going to talk about it again.) (At least not right now.) I've done all of the "stuff" that I can do to right my wrong attitude: I've knocked on heaven's door on a repeated basis, I've written down lists of things I'm grateful for, I've made myself watch documentaries and read harrowing stories about people who are living in truly terrible circumstances so that I remember that mine pale in comparison, I've taken a picture of something I'm thankful for everyday this month and posted it to Instagram. I've gone through all of the motions, basically. 

But over the weekend I learned that choosing to be happy where you are is as simple as choosing to be happy where you are. It doesn't have to be documented or planned out or prayed over. It's not a verb, it's a noun. It's a mindset of gratitude, something that we either accept or decline. 

So, last weekend. My parents suggested that we go out for breakfast. Now, we live in a small town. Our breakfast options are basically one of two diner establishments if we're staying within a 10 mile radius. But they mentioned Lakeside Farms, a place that, somehow, I'd never been before. It sounded like a good plan to everyone, so off we went. 

Previously, this would have been a no-win situation. Half of my heart (desperately) misses Rochester and would instantly think of 178 beloved breakfast stops that would have been welcome on a Saturday morning. The other half longs for the new experience I had confidently anticipated in which I would be exploring a city on Saturday mornings - getting to know baristas, befriending waitstaffs, finding new places and menus to love.

Let's note that none (NONE!) (0%!) of my heart was reserved for being present where I was actually located. Which is essentially the definition of unwise.

But before we left the house on Saturday, I felt so convicted to simply choose to be happy. Because make no mistake: it's a choice. And I wanted to choose to love where I am in life right now without attaching a single asterisk to denote that this wasn't the plan I had in mind.    

And you know what?

You know what. 

I had a great time. 

We can all collectively say it: Duh. 

Because our hearts and minds and feelings are not independent from each other. Choosing to love life as it is right now trickled down from my thoughts to my emotions to my experience. 

Consequently, I experienced that there are new places still yet to be discovered in a place I know so well. And that I love being able to go out for breakfast with my parents on a whim. I experienced the BEST blueberry pancake I've ever had alongside a great cup of coffee. And found new bakery items to try again another weekend. 

The grass is greener wherever you want it to be. So why not make it greenest under your own two feet?

Amen? Amen!

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. May your hearts be extra grateful (for a life that you love), your grass extra green (unless you are lucky enough to get SNOW!), and your plates extra full of all the good stuff (brussels sprouts, sweet potatoes, and apple pie ala mode, on mine!).

staying faithful : one woman lemonade stand

This car is giving me abandonment issues.

Previously recorded episode. I've lost track of how many times I've seen this sight.

After the battery/brake line incident it decided to wait a few hours after being returned to me - just enough time for the mechanic to close for the long weekend - to not have a desire to start anymore. Well played, Taurus. Excellent timing.

It's been moody ever since, starting whenever it feels so led, but this morning it decided to officially go on strike. Complete with the, "Heck, NO! We won't go!" chants. They may have been silent...but I still heard them.

This car has been the thorn in my flesh ever since I bought it a year ago. It's been broken down on me countless times, been backed into, broken into, and has even given me my first experience with underbody flooding. The only reliable trait it has is that it's reliably unreliable.

It'd be easy to get annoyed and move on, chalking it up to a lemon of a car. And it is a lemon. I should tap it for lemonade to earn money for the repairs. But I know it's not just that. This vehicle is the vehicle the Lord is using to teach me a lesson I've been avoiding learning for about 26 years. Or ever since I learned how to say, "I can do it myself!"

This car, at this juncture of my life, is teaching me how tightly I cling to my own self-sufficiency, and how insufficient a source of power that is.

That's all. And I don't have anything to follow up with - no behavioral resolutions or tidy conclusions. I'm in the midst of learning something I've needed to learn for decades, and decades of stubborn pride take a long time to erode.

So if we can switch to a less expensive educational model, Lord, that'd be great.

staying faithful : grace

My brake line is lying somewhere along Route 15 in Pennsylvania. This was unknown to me until yesterday afternoon when I found myself at the mechanic for a completely different surprise problem. (For those of you keeping score at home, that's 98273498732983 trips to the mechanic this year.)

I had noticed that my car had been starting a little slower than usual over the past few days, but I did what I do in most situations when an almost-problem presents itself: I hoped it would decide to resolve on it's own. It almost works 100% of the time except for when it doesn't.

So it wasn't the biggest surprise when I went out to move my car yesterday afternoon and was met with a lackluster reaction upon putting the key in the ignition. This was not the result I was hoping for, what with being in the process of traveling quite a bit in the next few weeks. Not to mention, you know, moving. My car is an essential component to all of those equations.

I decided to drive it straight to the mechanic, who, serendipitously, is only located about a mile and a half away. And on the way there I prayed one of the more rational prayers I've prayed over the past few weeks: Lord, I know that nothing comes to me that has not already passed through Your hands. I know You love me and desire the best for me, so please help me to remember that and learn what You might want to teach me as I react to this situation with grace.

Now, this was coming from the same woman whose recent supplications have included exclamation-laden laments and a strong adherence to the anger and denial stages of grief, so let's attribute that moment of clarity strictly to the Holy Spirit at work in my prayers because I've been at work finishing shoo fly pies with a vengeance and that's about it.

I've said it before and I'll say it til the cows come home: if you live anywhere near Rochester, you need to take your car to Sam LoVetro. His staff stopped what they were doing to help me when I arrived, fitting me into an already overflowing schedule with friendliness and compassion. They were quick to diagnose the problem. Just a dead battery! No harm, no foul. They even fixed my delinquent turn signal while I waited. We were just chatting as they backed it out of the garage...

and found a disconcerting puddle of brake fluid underneath.

And that's when they put my car on the lift.

And that's when they showed me that my brake line had decided it was time to part ways and left without so much as a goodbye back in Pennsylvania. (I thought I had just run over roadkill.) (I hadn't.)

And that's when I learned that without a brake line and with rapidly rusting layers holding the underbody of the car together, I would have been destined to hit the brakes...and not have any brakes to hit.

And that's when I saw God's grace clearer than ever.

Had it not been for the dead battery, perceived problem as it were, I would never have known that I was heading toward impending doom. My brakes could have gone out as I was pulling into a parking space...or they could have gone out as I was unable to come to a stop at a busy intersection. What seemed at first like a useless problem to pile on top of a growing list of useless problems ended up being a blessing - one I didn't even know I needed.

I think God's grace in my life right now is just like that: a future blessing I don't yet know I need. My current unemployment is a perceived problem. My need to move back in with my parents because I don't have a place to live is a perceived problem. Having no idea what to specifically do next is a perceived problem. But these problems all deviate from my human perceptions. They have nothing to do with God's vision. I know that somewhere up ahead, as a result of these so-called problems, is a blessing I don't yet know I need.

pinned here via here

If there's anything I've learned about God, it's that He will not hesitate to put me in a situation I don't want to be in if it's for my ultimate benefit. He's a good father. He doesn't flinch when I resist or withdraw or throw myself into a fit of teenage belligerence. He will do what needs to be done to make me into the person He created me to be. He will invest in me, even when I protest. Even when it appears to be a sacrifice. Even when I'm unkind and undeserving. Especially then.

Sweet, undeserved grace under protest has marked my entire 8 year journey in Rochester. I've never wanted to be here, but I've always needed to be here. And while thus far I've entered this new chapter in a similar fashion of kicking and screaming (I'm a stubborn, slow learner), I'm going to try to quiet down. Because I have no reason not to trust that the God who has so faithfully and lovingly provided for me in the past will continue to provide for me in the future. 

Lord, I know that nothing comes to me that has not already passed through Your hands. I know You love me and desire the best for me, so please help me to remember that and learn what You might want to teach me as I react to this situation with grace.

Amen.