...and then I slept.

So, after I wrote this post about tears, I think I have cried more. ha.

First, I saw this post by Shaun Groves about his compassion family and I cried.

Then, I saw this post about shoes and I cried.

Then, I had a lot of late nights (we're talking 2am-3am). So I was more prone to cry.

Then, I heard this song and cried because I was so tired.

Then, my dad called to say my dog of 14 years was going to have to be put down and I cried.

I cried a lot.

(I'm all for crying and everything, but I think I'd like to be finished now.)

And then, last night as I lay down in bed and the weight of it all settled in (and I cried) my big massive dog Maddie, who was at the foot of my bed, army crawled her way a little closer to me and laid her head on my hand.

And then... I slept.

Snuffie

December 1995 - November 2009
Love you little Snuffie.

Public Relations for Dummies

Me talking with an internship adviser at school the other day about possible internships she knew about...

Me: "I am a little concerned that I don't know how to do the practical things of communications. I feel like most of my classes are theory based. I don't know how to write press releases or anything like that."

Internship adviser: "Oh honey... I understand. Go to a library and find a Public Relations book for dummies. It'll show you how to do all of that stuff."

I'm so glad I'm spending my years in college.

One thought.

I don't know if God's "yes" or "no" scares me more.

Tears.

I used to think my tears were my enemy.

I thought they were my biggest weakness. I hated how easily I cried. Every time I called home to my parents crying about something, I wished so badly that one day tears would not be my first response to, well... life. But what I didn't realize until now is that even though there are times when I really did need to learn to control my emotions and not cry, my tears are really my strength.

Yep, you read that right. My tears are my strength.

I know... I'm shocked too.

My tears are the visible symbol of what I care deeply about. Yes, sometimes my tears are REALLY inconvenient. Many times in my short 20 years I've been the freak in the corner blubbering over something or other. I'm that strange girl that no one really knows what to do with because, oh ya, P.S. tears make a lot of people really uncomfortable.

But tears are my strength.

The day I quit crying completely is the day to start worrying because that means my heart has shut down. My tears keep me humble (insert crying in a crowd of people who don't know what to do with me and my tears). My tears remind me there is more to life than my own selfish life. In fact, if anything, I want Jesus to break my heart more. I don't think I ever fully understood when people said that before, but I know it needs to happen when I look at so much of the pain of the world and my heart does not break. I know it when the tears do not come. Those are the moments I know I need to ask Jesus to break my heart for what breaks His.

It took me 20 years. It took my mom and dad telling me for 20 years that my sensitive heart was not the curse I thought it was. It took me 20 years to believe them. Yes, it can be inconvenient and maybe a little awkward for those around me...

...But tears are my strength.

I need Thanksgiving.

I love Christmas as much as the next guy, maybe even more. I love how the holidays are a time of year when my family gets time off work and we spend the days doing absolutely nothing but being together. I love it. I love the meaning. I love the lights. I love the music. I love it. But I do not love it right now.

I walk into stores all across the city to be bombarded with CHRISTMAS.

Okay, to be honest, it really is not the stores that bug me. I understand that they must get out their Christmas merchandise so people can buy it in preparation for the Christmas season. Actually, it is the houses. The houses where there are already decorations up. In. Their. Homes. Don't laugh, I know some. It is the radio stations who started playing Christmas music the day after Halloween. It is the office down the street from my house that put up their psychedelic Christmas display that basically blinds me every time I drive by it. I will love these things in due time. Well, I might not actually love the psychedelic display. Truth time.

Maybe it bugs me because I feel we aren't thankful enough, and when I say WE I really mean ME. I really truly mean ME. I am prone to complaining. I am realizing this about myself. My circumstances become less than ideal and instantaneously a grumpy thought comes to mind. I begin to think about how I WANT God to change my situation. I think about what I WANT God to give me. I want. I want. I want.

I need the reminders to be thankful. I need to not forget about Thanksgiving. I need to stop complaining and thank Jesus for what He has and will do in my life now and in the future. I need Thanksgiving so that I can hit the restart button in my thankfulness department.

So please dear world.... I love Christmas as much as you do, maybe more. But lets just wait a little while longer.

I need Thanksgiving.

Mondays

"Monday, Monday, So good to me.
Monday, Monday, It was all I hoped it would be..."
--Monday, Monday by The Mamas & The Papas

Why yes, I did just quote a song from the 1960's, but like so many good things in life it is a reference to an episode of West Wing where two characters begin to see the song. I realized that I was going around the house singing it today completely unintentionally. Society as a whole seems to hate Mondays. The peak of my disdain for Monday's came during my high school years. That disdain inevitably ran over onto Sunday evening as I would begin to dread the coming day. Mondays just felt icky.

But now... I kind of like Mondays.

It's like Mondays came along and said, "Hey, I'm really not all that bad once you get to know me." In actuality what happened was that my class schedule allowed me to not have classes on Mondays. Oh yes, and I just so happen to not work on Mondays either. I don't mean to brag as I realize that not many others out there in the world have their Mondays free. I merely mean to say that Mondays are my quiet soul rejuvenating time and that sometimes that still strikes me as oxymoronic.

Today feels especially still. Maybe it is because of something as simple as the fact that the wind finally isn't blowing and the trees are at rest. Maybe it is the clouds blanketing the sky and wrapping my world in comfort. Maybe it is the freshly vacuumed carpet that seems to squish a little extra beneath my toes. Maybe it is the 80lb dog with her tongue hanging out of her mouth and perky ears who chases the squirrels up the trees. Maybe it is the last taste of warm weather coming through the windows bidding me a silent farewell until the spring.

Whatever it is. The world feels still today, and I'm starting to like Mondays.