Picking Teams

(No.  This is not a blog about the Final Four game and ridiculous Kentucky vs. Louisville “civil war” that I live in the midst of.  Check any local – or national – news source for crazy stories like this.)

Believe it or not, this issue is a little deeper than a basketball game…but history has seen it be just as heated!

I’m a Christian and Catholic.  Christian by God’s saving grace.  Catholic by family tradition.  And, although I grew up – as many children do – having a kind of blind “mirror faith” that simply reflected the practices and beliefs of my Catholic parents, I’m a big kid now and I’m asking questions.  Searching for answers.  Wondering, sadly, am I allowed to be both?

I church-hopped a lot from 2005-2010, finally planting myself at St. Francis Xavier, a wonderful parish in Mt. Washington.  During that 5 year span during and after college, I explored various denominations – Baptist, Methodist, Disciples of Christ, non-denominational “mega churches” – searching for a place to call “home”.  A place where I could not just “go to church”, but get involved and grow in my faith, alongside others.

Throughout my denomination-hopping, I can say I’ve truly felt God’s presence in each faith community that I visited.  I’m open minded enough to be able to appreciate the unique traditions that each fellowship has to offer, and I still love hearing new applications of God’s word.  I loved comparing each service to how I grew up…sometimes being overly critical of my “home faith”, sometimes defending it to no end.

I like a lot about being Catholic.  I like that, on any given Sunday, I can call my mom in Ferdinand, IN and my sister at Purdue University and reference this week’s Gospel reading and they’ll know exactly the verses I’m talking about.  I like that, growing up Catholic, I can walk into a Catholic church in any city anywhere in the world and feel at peace, at home, and welcome…because (almost) everything is the same.  I’m a creature of habit and I find this type of continuity soothing, but routines can become – well – routine.  And a Catholic has to battle against the temptation of going on autopilot and mentally coasting through each Mass, checking it off the weekend to-do list.

It’s no secret that I dislike a few things about the Catholic Church too.  I dislike that, although any Catholic can walk into an unfamiliar Catholic church and feel at home, rarely do I hear non-Catholics describe the Mass as welcoming or inviting.  Peaceful, beautiful, reverent, interesting, confusing (stand up – sit down – stand up – shake hands – sit down), yes…but rarely inviting.  And – just my opinion – the Catholic Church seems to air a sort of country-club exclusivity, sometimes leaving other Christian brothers and sisters out just because they haven’t been through the Catholic sacraments.   (Am I really supposed to tell two of my bridesmaids that they are not welcome to take communion at my wedding because they aren’t Catholic?  Even though these two Christian women taught me how to pray, how to serve, how to walk with God during my college years… not to mention they take communion a lot more seriously than many Catholics that will be allowed to share in the Lord’s Supper at our wedding Mass.)   I dislike these things.  A lot.

But, more than anything, what I dislike is the pressure – from either side – to “pick a team”.  Are you Christian or Catholic?

It throws me off each time I tell someone I’m a Christian and they say “Oh, I thought you were Catholic.”  Hold on a minute.  Aren’t we all on the same team?

 

When I became a member of a nondenominational church a few years ago I heard:  I’m glad you’re happy in this new place, but I really hope you decide to come back to the Catholic Church and the Eucharist.  [implied: the church you’ve been going into isn’t a “real church” and this remembering and celebrating the Lord’s supper without an ordained priest isn’t “real communion”.  You are lost.  Come back home.]  It tore me up to hear this from my Catholic family, because I felt closer and more connected to God than ever… yet in their perspective I was losing my faith (and my mind!).

But from the “other side” I heard:  Oh, you’ve been raised Catholic.  Poor thing.  You’ve been praying to Mary all these years.  [I hadn’t been.]  You call yourself a Christian, but have you been baptized? … wait, you were baptized as an infant?  You might want to read what scripture says about that, check to see if it still counts…by the way, welcome to the real Body of Christ! (Alright, those words were never said, but it’s definitely the message I perceived while exploring the Protestant world.  And, actually, I did decide to be re-baptized at age 23…even though I’d like to believe my first baptism still “counted”.  It was a personal decision based on my own research and walk with God, and adult baptism seemed like the natural next step for me.  And I’m glad I did it!  …Baptism, and recommitting your life to God, is never something you regret.)

So what is with this division and distrust between denominations?  Is it simply fear of the unknown?  Not liking the way they do things because we don’t understand (or just because it’s not the way we’ve always done them)?  Or – is it a pride issue?  Do we Catholics think we are better than our Protestant brothers and sisters? Or vice versa?   I once heard it implied, by a priest actually, that Catholicism is an “upgrade” from the other Christian faiths.   “All Christians will go to heaven, but Catholics will arrive in a limousine” [or something to that effect… it’s been awhile].  I had to fight back anger when I heard that, especially considering this statement was said to someone considering joining the Catholic Church.  It was a huge turn off for her!  But I’ve decided to give him the benefit of the doubt:  It was just a joke, or – maybe this perceived arrogance is just a little healthy competition…just like I’ll always truly believe that Purdue University is the best college in the country, and every other school falls a few steps under its greatness (it’s true).  Still, competition that divides the body of Christ?  Is that healthy?

My idealistic hope is that, one day, we can all recognize that we are the same team — team BOC (Body of Christ)…and that’s what matters.  We’ve got some Catholics, we’ve got some Protestants.  We’ve also got some serious diversity in terms of age, race, and preferences.  Some of us like to get dolled up for church, some of us prefer to 7:00 Mass where it is socially acceptable not to shower beforehand.  Some of us like traditional hymns, some of us want to praise God with Christian rock songs.   Some of us choose to pray aloud the rosary to connect with God, some of us get on our knees and bow our heads and silently pray in our hearts, some of us have verbal conversations with God on our 40-minute commutes to and from work (it only appears that I’m talking to myself driving down the Gene Snyder.)

Does God care how we worship and connect to him?  Or what label we give ourselves and our denomination?  I don’t think so.  So why do we?

God wants genuine relationships.  Just like we do (which makes since we’re made in his image and all).  In fact – since I’m preoccupied with relationships as it is – I find it helpful to think about what I would expect in a loving relationship and try to give that to my Heavenly Father.  For me, that means good communication (speaking and listening), obedience (out of love), respect, etc.   And, if God has a female side (which he must, since I am made in His image as much as any man), he loves to be romanced too.  And – as a woman – I can tell you I don’t care if it’s a slow soulful love song or an upbeat fast song telling me how you feel about me.  Sing to me.  I love it.  As long as you mean it.  Just be genuine.  So, that’s how I worship.

I know that there are significant doctrinal differences between the Catholic and Protestant Church.  But the main idea?  (God so loved the world that He sent His perfect son Jesus to take on our sins and die so that we may be spared from eternal separation from God, and instead have eternal life with Him!)  That’s the same.  Let’s not let the little things drive us against each other, or let “saving each other” become priority over healing a broken world in need…seeking out the truly lost and broken and sharing our faith with them.

Ok, sorry, I’m getting preachy.

I guess as we approach Holy Week and the Easter season, my hope is that we can unite as Christians – with all of our imperfect denominations full of imperfect people – and celebrate our Savior.  Hopefully we can bring some light to our damaged world by showing them just how perfect and powerful God’s love is.

 

What do you expect?

As a middle school teacher, part of my job was to have high expectations of my students.  I expected my kiddos to come in the room walking, not running, hands off other students.  I expected them to raise their hands to answer questions.  I expected them to be polite.  I expected them to participate in classroom activities.  And I expected them to try their best.  On most days, the majority of my students met my expectations, and (**shakes head remembering a few challenging students**) most days a few of them refused to do what I expected.   And it drove… me…crazy!

It might sound condescending to relate a spouse to a middle schooler, but it is undeniable that expectations also play a powerful role in relationships and marriage.  And, when our significant other doesn’t meet our expectations… it sometimes drives us crazy.  Sometimes crazy enough to treat them like a middle schooler.  (Ineffective strategy.  Not recommended.)

In the Healthy Marriage and Relationships class that I teach (to adults), we talk about expectations a lot.  We discuss what’s realistic, where expectations come from, how to communicate them, and how some of our expectations are most likely different than those of our significant other.  Usually, we don’t realize what our expectations are until they haven’t been met.  And that’s what gets so many of us in trouble…

I’ll start speaking for myself instead of the majority now.

Expectations have gotten me in all sorts of trouble.

I’ve joked before that I was deprived of Marriage Training 101 because I did most of my “growing up” years in a divorced home.  I lived with my single mom during the week and visited my single dad on the weekend.  Sure, it wasn’t ideal, and I complained about it a lot as an adolescent, but looking back I was still blessed to be immeasurably loved by both of my parents.  However, I never had the opportunity to see – day by day – a realistic marriage relationship.

Even so, as a young teenager watching my single parents manage separate households, I was already dreaming of meeting my “The One” and living happily ever after with my prince charming.  Life would be giggles and kisses and romance forever.

Early expectations formed from childhood stories and Disney movies, but what really got me dreaming was a good ol’ romantic comedy.   My heart ached as I watched Serendipity and I decided I would have to “test” every relationship to see if it was really “meant to be”.   I watched Sweet Home Alabama and dreamed about ending up with a Southern man with a cute accent.   I watched The Wedding Singer and imagined the man of my dreams becoming my best friend, falling for me, saving me from marrying a jerk, and singing “I Wanna Grow Old with You”.

Okay, my intentions in writing the above paragraph was to point out that these love stories are unrealistic, but – as I remember and write Our Story – Austin and I actually had similarly romantic movie moments.  But…my point is…what about the other moments?

And what about that happily ever after?

Doesn’t happily ever after mean that every day begins and ends like the closing scene of movie?

Doesn’t that mean…

(1)    My husband will love me unconditionally.  He will read my mind and whenever I want to hear him say those three little words, he instantly will!  Each day, he will list the reasons he asked me to marry him and shower me with verbal affection!  And all my insecurities will disappear!

(2)    My husband will spend time with me.  He will have no need for his friends or his hobbies.  Each time we are reunited he will jump and down so excited to see me and cover me in kisses.

(3)    My husband will be faithful to me.  He will never ever look at or talk to another young woman again.

(4)    My husband will agree with me.  On everything.  We will never ever have a disagreement or conflict.

Not to mention…

(5)    My husband will give and receive love in same ways I do. (Love languages – Words of Affirmation and Quality Time.  And, of course, he will know what a love language is!)

(6)    My husband will be a clone of me.  Except a man.  A rugged, handsome man.

Can you spot the unrealistic (somewhat ridiculous) expectations?

Yeah, they all are!  But can you believe that, on some level, these were my true expectations of a marriage relationship?  (Poor, poor Austin.)  Yes, parts of those expectations (at least the first four), are realistic and still very important to me.   I do expect love to be unconditional in my marriage (because I’m not easy to love every moment of every day).  I expect to spend quality time with my husband.  I expect monogamy.  And we should agree on some things.

But imagine my surprise when we have our first big disagreement (no, not conflict!).

Imagine my reaction when – no matter how wide-open my eyes are when I stare at him or how high my eyebrows are raised – he doesn’t say exactly what I want him to say exactly when/how I want him to say it.  (I am sad to report, after many failed attempts, I cannot transmit my thoughts into Austin’s brain.)

Imagine when (true story) I try verbalizing some of my unmet expectations to Austin when he gets home from work:

Me:  Babe, I want you to be happy to see me when you come home.

Austin:  I am happy to see you when I come home…?

Me:  But you know, be excited!

Austin:  I am excited, I’ve also worked outside for 8 hours straight, and I’m tired.

Me:  But you don’t act excited…

Austin:  Let me get this straight, after a long day of work, you expect me to do this…  He exits the house and comes back in skipping, jumping up and down and says – in an overexcited, dramatic, (and slightly feminine) voice – “Honeyyyyy!  I’m hooooome and I’m sooo excited to see you!  I love you!  I love you!  I love you!!!”

Me (frustrated):  Ugh, now you’re being ridiculous!

Austin just stares at me.

Me (*lightbulb*):  Oh.

Moral of the story… I learned I have/had some ridiculous expectations.  Some selfish.  Some idealistic.  Some just plain silly.

And as we enter into marriage, I’m fairly confident that Austin and I are going to find that a lot of our expectations differ, bigger ones than just how we enter the house after a day at work.   The roles of husbands/wives, how money is handled, raising children… just to name a few common ones.

In my class, I teach clients to check with themselves and others to make sure their expectations are reasonable.  Reasonable expectations should be communicated to spouses/partners in safe relationships.  And (here’s the hard part), each spouse should be motivated to meet each other’s most important and reasonable expectations.   Maybe you don’t understand it, because it may not be the same as your expectation.  But love seeks to meet the needs of another.  It becomes a choice.

Here’s an example.  Let’s say it is not important to me that the kitchen is cleaned up after every meal.  Let’s pretend dirty dishes in the sink don’t make me cringe, and crumbs on the counter don’t irritate me.  But let’s say my spouse has the expectation of a reasonably clean kitchen.  It’s important to him that dishes are washed and put away, and that the counters are wiped off before moving on to the next activity.  The loving thing to do – even if I don’t “get it” or like it – is to do my best to meet that need he has for a clean kitchen.  It might mean we do dishes together after dinner, or maybe I volunteer to do them myself.  But I don’t say “pshh – if that’s a crazy expectation of yours, then you better find a way to meet it yourself”.

I must be willing to communicate and listen to my partner’s expectations.  And then be willing to compromise out of love for my partner.

And, speaking from experience, although it is really nice when Austin occasionally does read my mind and does things the way I expect… what means much more is when he chooses to do something because he knows it means a lot to me (even when he doesn’t understand it).  That’s love!

Awhile back, we compromised on the “be excited when you come home” issue.  What I was really saying is that I wanted to feel important to Austin.  And after a day apart, I put a value on my importance based on the way Austin entered the house, what he’d do first, what he’d say to me, and how he’d say it (before we talked about it, he had no idea he was being so carefully – and inaccurately – analyzed).  We communicated (by speaking and listening) and compromised.  Instead of Austin jumping up and down in uncontainable excitement (which would have really been both exhausting and creepy), we compromised that whenever either one of us gets home, it’s reasonable to expect that this person will initiate a genuine greeting (hug, kiss, “how was your day”) before moving on to feeding the dog, fixing dinner, watching TV, etc.  Just to show love.  Not because he needs it desperately, but because I do.

He does that for me.  Out of love.  And I love him for that.

Eating Well? Over the Weekend

After such a successful first week of eating Real Foods, a little backsliding over the weekend was inevitable, right?  I’m letting myself be realistic in this journey, so I guess I shouldn’t claim to be cutting out all processed foods from my diet.  Sure, that would be ideal.  And I know it is possible.  If I lived in a bubble, that is.  (And sometimes I feel like I do.)

But, I had a weekend full of so many blessings with so many wonderful people in so many wonderful places!  And I told my real-foods-only conscience to take a chill pill to enjoy the weekend.   So forgive me for today’s recipes collection.

                       

Saturday morning, Austin and I were invited to a delicious home cooked breakfast by my lovely in-laws-to-be.  I made a few good choices here, like using milk and honey in my coffee instead of Sweet-N-Low and French Vanilla creamer.  And I actually passed on the biscuits.  But that was really because I needed double servings of the best kept breakfast secret:

Fish and Eggs!

I know, it doesn’t sound appealing at all.  But look below at how yummy it looks!  Even picky-eater-Lauren loves fish and eggs.  (I owe a lot to my in-laws for helping me branch out in my food choices.)

Here’s how you make this incredible small-town comfort food breakfast:

Fresh caught blue gill and croppy fish are seasoned with Kentucky Kernel seasoned flour , with just a little garlic added to it, and fried in vegetable oil.  (I know, I know, both the flour and the oil are no-no’s from the Real Foods list.  Relax a little!)  According to Austin’s mom, “the key to the eggs is that they are fried in the leftover grease from the fish.”  So no cleaning the pan in between, go it?

Now is this meal healthy?  I’ll let you be the judge…AFTER you taste it.  Because – trust me – you will find a way to reason that yes, this is an absolutely acceptable and healthy breakfast.

And, I’m sure you could alter this recipe by using whole grain wheat flour, garlic, salt, pepper (and other various spices), and fry the fish in olive oil… but since I’m not officially “in” the family for a few more months, I’m going to hold off on altering any favorite family recipes, even just for Austin.  Yeah, I ain’t stupid!

 

Saturday, after breakfast, I went on a little road trip to Zionsville, IN to celebrate the bridal shower of one of my beautiful college friends and sorority sisters, MR.  The shower was held at the cutest little spot in downtown Zionsville called Serenity.  It was one of the first homes built in Zionsville, all the way back in 1868!  The interior was beautifully decorated with antiques (but you’ll have to just imagine, since I didn’t bring my camera) and, for the shower, enhanced with Gerber daisies on each table in varying shades of pink.  Very serene.

In-between shower activities, the restaurant served a delicious chicken salad meal for lunch.  And, for dessert, almond bark and macaroons were passed around as MR began opening her shower gifts.

During the gift-opening, I was busy searching “how do you use a wine decanter?” on my iPhone (my table was really curious about this one), but with that mystery solved,  I came home more curious about those macaroons.  Light and crispy on the outside and soft and sweet in the middle.  Mmmm.  How might I make such a delicious treat?

I found a French Almond Macaron recipe (apparently macaroon and macaron are both acceptable spellings, according to Martha Stewart), but I wish the best of luck to anyone who thinks that they can turn it into a Real Foods recipe.  Looks like something I will have to hold off on until my 100 days of Real Food challenge is up!  (But as for Saturday, ignorance was bliss!)

Now Sunday was an interesting day in terms of food.  Although Austin and I had an extremely busy fun-filled day planned, I spent most of the morning blogging about being flexible when plans change.  I finally finished reading The Help (I know, I’m way behind the trend.  I’m finally ready to move on to The Hunger Games now.)  I cleaned the house, sort of.  I broke the bank at the grocery store buying Real Foods (yep, spoke too soon last week when I reported how easy it was to stay on budget and buy natural foods – I’ll plan better next week).  Finally, I just went on a run because I was so anxious for Austin to come home from fixing that darn water main break.  He’d been gone for almost 14 hours and my positive attitude from the morning was starting to fade into disappointment of a date-day ruined.  Not acceptable!  I took off on a run to get rid of any lingering negativity.

When I came back, I was excited to find that yay!  He was home!  Of course, after working 14 hours overnight on zero hours sleep, he was exhausted and passed out watching the UK-Baylor NCAA tourney game.   I began thinking “how can I show my appreciation for all of his hard work today?”… He told me a long time ago that the no-fail answer to that question (probably for most men) was… FOOD!

Despite spending $(way too much).00 at Kroger that morning, I had neglected to buy groceries for Sunday dinner.  Still, I wanted to make something special for when my hard working man when he woke up.  That boy earned it!  I don’t do this often, but I braved myself to explore what was stored in our freezer beyond the chicken, fish, and frozen vegetables.

Yep, I decided, as I sorted through the clear vacuum-sealed bags, contents printed in bold Sharpie. I’m making wild game for dinner tonight!

I know, there’s a stigma attached to eating wild game (before Austin, I would have never dreamed of eating it, much less cooking it), but in my quest to eat natural foods – honestly – how can you get more natural than that?  Furthermore, this could be the perfect way to bridge the gap between my All-Natural-Girl diet and his I’m-a-Man-I-Eat-What-Tastes-Good diet.

Although we have plenty of it in the freezer, I usually “don’t-look, don’t touch” when it comes to wild game.  But I felt like a daredevil yesterday.  Bring it on!

Austin is the king of making any sort of venison (deer) dish, so I wasn’t about to try and compete with that.  So, I consulted the Big Cookbook of the World Wide Web (aka Google) to help me search for a recipe for what else we had choose from:  dove, rabbit, and duck.

I settled on this simple recipe:   Parmesan Duck Breast

I followed the recipe exactly except I marinated the duck breasts for 2 hours in milk (why, you ask?  I saw a different recipe call for that, so I thought maybe it was a way to…um…clean it?)  And I used olive oil instead of Wesson oil.  I also made corn-on-the-cob as a side.  Along with something else I ruined (explained below).

Cooking wild game can be intimidating, especially to satisfy the rumbling stomach of an skilled outdoorsman.  So I was relieved when Austin woke up in time for me to ask him “Um, babe, how would I know if the duck was… done?”  (For the record, duck is kind of like steak when it cooks – but take that comparison lightly because I don’t cook steak often either – you want it to be juicy but not “bloody and raw” on the inside.  I just used the “keep cooking until the inside looks edible” technique.  And it worked!!)

The parmesan duck and corn-on-the-cob was a huge hit for my Country Boy!  Big fiancé points earned!

What wasn’t a huge hit was my attempt at Whole Wheat Zucchini Bread Muffins.

See that picture above?  My “muffins”, if you could call them that, looked NOTHING like the picture above (from the recipe website).   In my kitchen, the same recipe instead made twenty-four chunky blobs of baked dough (lesson learned:  not all bread dough will bake into bread).  I blame the coconut oil, which I didn’t realize you are supposed to completely liquefy before using.  (Coconut oil starts off as a solid first, really threw me off!)  I wasn’t sure what to do with the solid oil… so I “softened” it.  This left rather large chunks of oil in the dough mixture… and no, the chunks did not “remove themselves during baking” like I’d told myself they would.

However, since a large part of my spending $(way too much).00 at Kroger was in order to buy ingredients for these muffins, I feel obligated to carry them as my “work snacks” this week, however embarrassing and awkwardly chewy they are.

“Waste not when you spend a lot.”

If anyone else is brave enough to try the muffin recipe, or finds a type of oil that works better, let me know how it works for you!  Austin and I were both really excited for some zucchini bread!

And, wild game recipes are always appreciated!  I have a lifetime of deer/rabbit/duck/goose/dove/etc ahead of me.

Confessions of a Planner/Lessons in Flexibility

Austin would tell you that there are countless advantages to marrying a “planner”.  (And if he told you otherwise, don’t worry, he’s just kidding.)  Grocery lists are made well in advance of the Kroger shopping trip, based off a meal plan I carefully create each week.   Austin doesn’t have to worry a bit about the 7^th grade Religious Education class we teach on Wednesday nights.  I’ve got it under control.  Who-gets-what for Christmas and birthdays?  Don’t worry baby, I’ve got it all planned.  Not to mention he gets to enjoy one heck of a wedding come June 16^th this year.

I am a planner.  A good planner.  And I LOVE it.

Except…

Being a wonderfully gifted planner has left me with a rather obvious deficit in another area, a key component of healthy relationships.  Flexibility.

Oh, flexibility.  How I am trying to invite you into my life of plans!

In the past, flexibility really wasn’t welcome here.  You see, planners like me mentally live each day before it happens…usually a few times before the day starts, actually.  Every activity of the day is chosen in advance and has an approximated start and end time.  Decisions that are mentally made become steadfast laws of how things need to operate on this day, and breaking these laws brings upon anxiety, disappointment, and frustration.

Now, a lot of flexible people out there might pity me and think I’m crazy.  They might say that this is no way to live.  But it’s worked for me.  I’m a very productive person this way.  On the other hand it’s gotten me in trouble more times than I can count, relationship-wise.

Since he and I are opposites in most everything, it should come as no surprise that Austin is Mr. Flexibility.  It is equal parts something that I admire and something that drives me crazy.

Our Saturday morning conversations often go like this:

Me:  What are you up to today babe?

Austin:  I don’t know, we’ll see.   What are your plans?

Me:  Glad you asked!  First, cereal.  Then cleaning the house until noon, hour break for the gym.  Then, come home, finish cleaning, shower, (as my mind literally sees hours rolling by on the face of a clock), and – what time is dinner?

Austin:  Whenever, babe.

Me:  Just pick a time, I need a time.

Austin:  Ok, how about… 5:30?

Me:  Like leave at 5:30 or be at the restaurant at 5:15?

Austin:  Doesn’t matter.

Me:  Yes it does.  Pick.

Austin:  Okay.  Be at the restaurant at 5:30.

Me:  Okay, I’ll shower at 4:00 so I can be ready at 5:00 and we can leave at 5:15.

Austin:  Okay, Crazy Girl. (And on some days he’ll even bust out the Eli Young Band song.)

And then I feel peace within myself.  (Not because he sings to me, which is nice, but because I have set a plan for the day.)

That is, until it is 5:30 and we haven’t even left for the restaurant yet.  I become irritable, anxious, and restless (which, unfortunately, carries over well past dinner).  We are late!  Off the plan!  Unacceptable!

I’m being a little dramatic in this example, but – honestly – if I were to put my in-the-moment feelings into words, that’s probably what it would sound like.  And if it sounds crazy, just imagine the sort of crazy Austin gets to live with for the rest of his life.  Bless his soul.

Now, good news, I feel like I’ve come a long way in the area of flexibility.  In fact, although conversations like the above still happen quite regularly, there has been an improvement in the area of how-I-react-when-the-plan-changes.

So – you might ask – why the sudden thoughts on flexibility?  Why did I begin writing this blog at 6:30 a.m. on a Sunday morning?  (Crazy girl….) Here’s what just happened.

Austin and I had a very busy day planned for today… one I’ve been looking forward to for some time because – due to me going out of town for wedding-related things the past 3 weekends – we haven’t gotten the opportunity to spend much “quality time” together recently.   Or at least not as much as I want.

But today we had an awesome Sunday planned!  We were going to 7:00 a.m. church, like usual.  The Kentucky game comes on this afternoon (I planned to grocery shop during this time because I’m estimating No One will be at the store during this time!  – Oh, I hope they don’t close down during the game.  Wouldn’t surprise me.  I better check on that.)  In the evening we were going to visit Austin’s aunt and grandparents.   But sometime between church and The Game we planned to go to Taylorsville Lake to fish!  I’m sad to admit it, but I still haven’t been fishing with Austin EVER.  I’ve spent a (quiet!) evening in the deer stand.  I’ve tip-toed through the woods hunting for squirrels.  And if watching in bewilderment as Austin grabbed his bow and shot a rabbit off our back porch counts as rabbit hunting, I’ve done that with him too.  (Welcome to my redneck life!)

But never fishing!  So, today we planned to go fishing with my brand new, never-been-used, fresh-from-Bass Pro, PINK fishing rod.  I was so excited!  And I was already planning to blog about it next week.  (And one day I will.  When City Girl and Country Boy have adventures in nature, they are always worth sharing.)

But something happened at 11:55 p.m. last night.  I heard this sound.  Yeah, that’s a ringtone around here.  No joke.

More specifically, it is Austin’s work phone ringtone.  I despise this sound because it is the sound that ruins plans and tests my flexibility.  And it was that sound that took away my pillow last night (I typically fall asleep on Austin’s shoulder well before midnight on a Saturday night.  We are party animals, I tell ya!) and called Austin in to work on a water main break in town.   That was about 11 hours ago now, and he is still working.   What an incredible man.  Anyone who can leave the house at midnight to do physical labor for the next 12 hours (or more) without any sleep and without a single negative remark… that’s just amazing.  And that’s the kind of man I’m marrying soon.

“Oh, nooo”, sleepy-head Lauren said after Austin got off the phone.  “I’m so sorry you have to go in to work, babe.” (Sad face).

“That’s just how it goes,” he shrugged, walking out the door.  “Love you.”

And that was that.  Sometimes main breaks take an hour.  Sometimes they take 24 hours.

This sounds really bad, but there was a time I’d get really upset when Austin would get called into work.  Of course I was never mad at Austin for doing his job, but I was irritated/annoyed/upset at his job for “ruining” our plans (my plans).  And when a woman is irritated and annoyed, I don’t think it matters who or what it’s towards… you just have an irritable woman.  And – just being obvious here – that’s not my best self.   Looking back, I can see that that is probably the least loving way (not to mention most selfish way) to react to this type of situation.  I did Austin no favors by being grumpy when he came home from a long day at work, even if my disappointment was aimed towards his boss for making him work when we had plans to be together.

Of course, this morning, when I discovered Austin was still at work, not able to come to 7:00 church with me, and not able to take me fishing or spend the day with me like we’d planned, I was bummed.  That’s natural and that’s okay.

However, I’m learning that I have to let go of my plans and be genuinely and joyfully flexible for the good of everyone, especially in my marriage.  I’m learning that I can be disappointed that something doesn’t work out, for a moment, but not a moment more.   And I’m learning how to be a supportive partner when it comes to Austin’s work – and I’ll have to remember to thank him when he gets home (whenever that may be) for working beyond exhaustion for “us”.

Flexibility is a lesson in faith as well.  I began writing this blog before church this morning, with flexibility in a love relationship already on my mind.  To my great satisfaction, because God loves to speak directly to my life, the Gospel reading centered on surrendering our will (our life, our plans) to God’s will.  (I just shook my head in amazement when I read John 12:23-26 this morning; I love it when that happens.)

Isn’t that something.  Not only is flexibility crucial when it comes to being a supportive partner to my spouse, I need to face an important fact:   No matter how much time, effort, and mental energy I put into planning anything – I’m really never going to be the One in control.

And this morning, instead of evoking the panic that usually comes with the thought of not being in control… that realization brings peace.  God is the ultimate planner.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord.  Jeremiah 29:11

He is a planner.  A good planner.  And I love Him.

Real Food. Week 1.

Last Monday began my “100 Days of Real Food” pledge.  I was inspired to start this pledge for no other reason than sheer curiosity.  Maybe I just needed a new challenge in my life (I tend to search for trouble).  I’ve always liked the idea of eating healthy, but the media definition of what “healthy” is has changed so many times, it’s just left me confused.  Should I say no to carbs?  Eliminate foods based on grams of fat?  Switch from regular to Diet Mountain Dew to save calories?  Choose sugar free creamer?  Reduced fat chips?  And which kind of artificial sweetener should I use to enhance my unsweetened tea?  …confusing.

It turns out, and it makes sense, that in an effort to eat healthy, I was filling my body with plenty of taste-good, super-sweet substances.  Many were fat-free, sugar-free, calorie-free and so healthy…the boxes and cartons said so!  But, aside from fresh fruits and vegetables that I have a habit of eating regularly, I realized I haven’t been eating much that could qualify as Real Food.  And, I had never really thought about it before, never really cared…but it just hit me – that can’t be good!

We live in a place and time where we can scientifically engineer dirt to taste yummy.  But all of those “flavor enhancers” are nothing but chemicals that trick our taste buds into saying “yum!  I like that!  I want more of that!”  And you can’t blame companies for doing this.  If people like it, they’ll buy it, and they’ll keep buying it.   And rarely does anyone stop and ask… I wonder if this is really food that I’m eating?

Maybe it’s the reality that my life is going to be joined with someone else’s very soon (86 days, if I were counting) and I think the gift of a truly healthy wife would be a lovely wedding present.  Or maybe it’s that I want to raise my kids to eat healthy and (although I’m nowhere near pregnant) I have a desire to build family food habits early.  For whatever reason, I decided to jump on board the Real Food Challenge and give it a try.  Heck, I can always go back to processed foods if it doesn’t work out.  There’s no shortage in my town.

Today I am on Day 5 of eating Real Food and wanted to highlight some challenges, triumphs, and give a few great resources to those interested in challenging themselves into eating Real Food.

The first challenge came at the grocery store on Monday.  I shared my experience under Living Well, but to summarize – I am going to have to completely re-route my Kroger shopping routine (for a creature-of-habit, this is going to be tough).   Instead of going up and down my favorite aisles (like, *sigh*, the cereal aisle), I must make a new habit of “shopping the perimeter of the store” to get all the fresh produce, meats, etc.  And then I can begin the hunt for other ingredients. The Mt. Washington Kroger is huge, and I was able to find 90% of the items I needed on my all-natural foods grocery list.  The other items might have been there, but I got tired of looking (and I’m not a person who asks for help finding something, Lauren-phobia #103).   Furthermore, following the 5-ingredient, pronounceable/familiar ingredients only rule was exceedingly difficult when looking for packaged foods!  I’m going to have to research ahead of time what types of packagedfoods will pass this test.  I spent way too much time reading labels in aisles of Kroger.  I try to keep shopping trips to 30 minutes max.  Don’t ask how long it took me last week.

My biggest fear with this new food philosophy is that I am going to spend a fortune on organic, all-natural foods.  (And, from both a financial and relationship standpoint, I cannot afford to do that.  A frugal wife earns as many points as, if not more than, a healthy wife.)  But, happily, I found that costs balanced themselves out for Week 1.  Okay, the total was a about 5.00 higher than usual, but I estimated much higher.  (Fun Fact: Each week at the grocery checkout, I play a game.  As I place my items on the counter, I guestimate the final amount of my grocery purchases – after the Kroger card and coupon discounts of course.  If the final amount is lower than my honest guess, I feel victorious inside.  If it’s more, I feel shame and beat myself up thinking ‘Did I really need that Swiss Cheese?’ on the way out to the car.  Oh, it passes the time.  And when Austin comes with me, we both play.  Anyway…)

I went to the Organic Foods section immediately after produce last week, and honestly probably paid way too much for whole wheat flour, but I was stocking up on basics and exploring some of my (expensive) options on organic seasonings, etc.  I picked up some fancy whole wheat pasta in this area of the store first, but then found Kroger-brand whole-wheat pasta for 2.00 cheaper later on in the pasta aisle.  However, I should probably research a little further to make sure the Kroger-brand is 100% whole-grains and not just a mix of whole and refined grains.

Real Foods I’ve Eaten:

No one cares to read my personal food diary, but I did want to link to some great recipes that I’ve found that helped me ENJOY my first week of Real Food.

• Monday I made Chicken Marsala Pasta with the Kroger-brand whole wheat pasta.  I thought it was delicious.  Austin thought it was acceptable, but kind of bland (poor fiancé move:  I didn’t consult him before making this Real Foods decision.  So, on nights I cook, he’s going to fall victim to a few Real Foods recipes, like it or not).  I’m sure I could spice it up next time.  I slightly varied the recipe in that I used penne instead of fettuccine (so much easier to eat) and broccoli instead of asparagus (Austin doesn’t care for asparagus, and broccoli was cheaper this week at the store anyway!)

• Tuesday we had leftovers.  I worked late, but I came home excited because it was the day I’d planned to make my own Homemade Cereal.  Aside from giving up Diet Mountain Dew, the hardest part of the Real Foods Challenge is giving up my (Kroger-brand) Honey Bunches of Oats, Frosted Mini Wheats, Cinnamon Life, etc… Tough.  Stuff.   I crave cereal in the morning, so I was pumped to come home and make this cereal!  It turned out DELICIOUS and has been the highlight of my mornings this week.  I made a simplified version of the recipe (no pumpkin seeds, cashews, walnuts, or pecans…just trying to save money!)… and it was still delicious.  You could easily modify this one to fit your cereal needs.

• Wednesday:  Funny Story.  Bad relationship moments.  I got off work early on Wednesday and came home ready to make Coconut Chicken Satay and Zucchini Chips.   Now, Austin had just made kabobs on the grill last week… At the time, I looked at him funny when I saw him drying off some wooden skewers that had been soaking in the sink (I’m still a beginner chef, lots of room for error).  He told me that if I didn’t want flaming kabobs (which actually sound kind of cool, don’t they?), that I should always soak the wooden skewers in water before using them on the grill.  Well, I heard the word “water”, but for some reason the word “soak” didn’t sink in.

When this oven-baked recipe called for the chicken to be placed on skewers, I felt proud of myself for remembering to get them wet before using them.  So, I quickly dipped them in water, slid on the chicken, drizzled on the sauce from the recipe (amazing flavor, by the way), and let them bake.

Now, this was also the day we discovered that our air conditioning wasn’t working.  Normally, AC isn’t vital in March, but we’ve had a heat wave come in to make Wednesday’s high almost 90 degrees.  Heat doesn’t bother me all that much, but Austin (who works outside in the heat all day) really appreciates being able to come home to an air conditioned house.   So, at this time, Austin is running in and out of the house (which is warm to begin with!) trying to fix our outside AC unit.

Somehow in the next five minutes, a mess of events takes place.   First, the smell.  Burning.  Fire.  D*mn it!  (I only cuss under emergency circumstances.)  Those skewers were black and smoking within 5 minutes of being in the oven.  I was juggling the mess of making zucchini chips on the stove, trying to get rid of the smoke (there was no real fire, thank God), and feeling like an idiot because we had JUST discussed the hazards of wooden skewers 4 days prior.  Austin was still running in and out of the back door (attached to our kitchen) shaking his head at me…growing in frustration of the air conditioning problem.

That’s when I heard it.  The sound.  The buzz – smack – buzz – smack sound.  I knew what it was was before I looked up.  And then those words came out again, only I said “D*mn it, Austin!” (bad fiancé move, again).  In going in and out of the back door, heroically fixing our air conditioner, he had opened the door for a horrifying intruder to enter my kitchen.  “Wasp!  Wasp!”   I can play it cool for mice.  I can play it cool for snakes.  But I cannot play it cool for any creatures that can FLY and STING (since I can do neither of these things, I’m convinced they have an advantage over me).

Austin heroically kills the beast, while I finish dinner, trying to apologize profusely for cussing “at” him.  I’ve never in my life done that before.  And there’s no excuse for it.  But that’s how Wednesday went.

We scarfed down the dinner (which actually turned out really good despite the black skewers and – for the record – I am going to choose to make the dish without skewers next time) and headed off to teach Religious Education (RE) at our church.

• On Thursday Austin worked extremely late and didn’t get home until 9:00.  He was greeted with baked chicken (which was NOT a Real Foods recipe and so therefore I will not link to it) and roasted vegetables.  My new favorite way to eat veggies is to toss them in olive oil, salt, and pepper (sometime other seasonings too) and roast them in the oven.  I vary the oven temperature and vary the time…but usually it’s around 350 – 400 degrees and for 15 or so minutes.   Longer if you like them a little burnt (I do!)

These and other recipes that I’m hoping to make soon can be found on my Pintrest Board!

What I’ve Noticed since Switching to Real Foods:

1. Less of a craving for sweets or processed foods in general.  Maybe it’s just early-on motivation of being on this new eating plan, but I promise that I – the sugar queen – really haven’t craved sweets (as much) this week.   Austin (who has not committed to eating only Real Foods) ate the amazingly sweet and delicious and processed Birthday Cake Ice Cream in front of me Tuesday night this week.  And (okay, after I snuck ONE bite off his spoon), I fixed myself a peanut butter banana smoothie…without the slightest bit of resentment!
2. Less irritability and moodiness.  Aside from the wasp incident, I’ve honestly just been in a great mood this week.  Since I’m being honest, I’l admit I had a little 5-minute-hurt-feelings-episode this morning over something too silly to even share.  But I’ll always be hyper-sensitive.   And I’ll always be terrified of wasps.  But, overall, I’m feeling that “life is so good” feeling.  Nothing beats that.

Over the next few weeks, I hope to do a little more research when it comes to what I’m eating, especially when it comes to buying organic fruits and vegetables (I haven’t been, so I’ve been ingesting a variety of pesticides…) and meat/poultry.  I used to think people were a little over-the-top for buying only meat from grass-fed cows and wild caught fish.  But I guess to many I’m considered over-the-top anyway right now, so I might as well go for it!

Feel free to share any recipes, links, and resources as a comment to help others eat Real Foods!

Chapter 1: Girl

July 17, 2009

C’mon Lauren, psych yourself into going out tonight.   (Good luck, self.)

You’re excited.               (Nope)

You’re ready to flirt!       (Mmm, hmm… that always turns out so well)

Megan’s friend is in town.      (I know, I know…be social.)

They want to go to Fourth Street Live.      (Woohoo!  Drunken crowds and creepy men.)  

I was giving myself one of the usual going-out pep-talks.  And, like usual, my homebody-self was giving my party-self a very hard time.  But, although party-self usually succumbs to the stubborn wisdom of Ms. Homebody, tonight she was impressively persistent in her argument.  For good reason.

It’s a country concert. Randy Hauser.     (Yeah, he’s okay.  But I’ll only know one song.)

It’s free.      (Keep talking…)

And…        (Yeah?)

There will be country boys there.   (Sold!)

It was a cheap shot, really.  But it was a money shot.  It’s no secret that, from as far back as I can remember, I’ve always had this thing for the rugged man, the classic good ‘ol “country boy”.  I figure the cause is some rare genetic mutation in the mate-selection gene, given my own background, which is much more country club than country.  I was raised to drink wine, not beer.   Brought up to shop, not hunt.  But – dang – there is just something about a dirty-from-work man in a camouflage hat that gets my heart racing!  Mmm!

Moving on…

With the faint hope of meeting a cowboy down on Fourth Street Live in my new city Louisville, KY, I began the next battle…with my closet.  What to wear?

I had been living in Louisville for a little over a year.  The move from Indiana to Kentucky came about in a rather go-with-the-flow manner.  When I reached my senior year at Purdue University, I suddenly realized I had NO idea what I wanted to do with my degree (Neurobiology and Physiology – fun to say, not fun to do) or with my life for that matter.  In a panic, I applied to be a science teacher for Teach for America.  I was a Do-Gooder (“Do Good” was even my sorority’s motto), and I liked the idea of helping students in low income schools…possibly in North Dakota or the Carolinas…somewhere I’d never been before!  Teaching couldn’t be all that difficult, right?  (Ha! says the former teacher now.)   To make a long story short, after multiple hopeful interviews, I got rejected by Teach for America.  But, on the bottom of their rejection email (yes, email, don’t get me started) there was a God-sent list of links to other similar teacher transition programs.  Kind of a “we don’t want you, but hey – try your luck here” sympathy list.  But what a gift!  One of the programs was called TeachKentucky, based out of Louisville.  With the type of boldness and motivation that only comes from being rejected when you really thought you had the job, I applied for the TeachKentucky program on the website that very night of my TFA rejection.  I talked to the Program Director via phone the next day as I shuffled between classes.  And I drove down to Louisville the next month for a tour of the city where I signed a contract to become a Jefferson County Public Schools middle school teacher.  And here I am.  A Kentuckian.  Not a lot of decision-making involved.   It just happened.

Back to the closet.  I settled on a turquoise cotton sundress, slipped on kitten heels to raise my height to an acceptable 5’3, and I grabbed a black sweater on the way out the door.  It was unseasonably cool for July!   Double checked that I had my driver’s license ID (I’ve tried to walk into too many bars only to realize I left it in the other wristlet…at home…across town) and new iPhone (I was a brand new member of the cool kids club).  Check, check!   And Megan, Stephanie, and I were off to Fourth Street Live.

The last moments of my life before Austin.

The Love Dare

I’m a sucker for relationships books.  I mean it – my home library is somewhat embarrassing.  I’ve got a bookcase devoted to The Five Love Languages, His Needs/Her Needs, Love and Respect, For Women Only (What You Need to Know about the Inner Lives of Men)…just to name a few.  My only larger genre of books is the “singles” books I collected during my college years and early 20s.  Off the top of my head, we’ve got Finding a Man Worth Keeping, Boy Meets Girl, I Kissed Dating Goodbye (I read it. Great read! Not saying I followed its wisdom.)  I know, don’t judge. 

Austin calls my beloved collection of relationship books “change men books”.   I have to explain to him that – seriously, honestly – I have no desire to change men one bit!  At least not Austin – he’s as good as they come!  But, my gosh, what I wouldn’t give to understand how men think!  So I read, and I take notes (mental notes, of course…usually), and then I consult with my own personal man to see if the information is true.  And he might agree that what I’ve read is true, but usually he just rolls his eyes and says that men are simple.  And that I’m crazy.  All in love.

[Personal background/side note on why I’m so obsessed with understanding men especially when it comes to relationships:  My parents divorced when I was in middle school.  Divorces are rarely a positive experience, and my situation was no exception.   I wouldn’t call our divorce ugly (“our” because, in my experience, any issue that affects the parents encompasses the kids as well), but it wasn’t a walk in the park either.  At the time, the worst part about it all was that everything familiar crumbled and everything about the future became unknown , and – to a middle schooler already dealing with the horrors of adolescence – scary!  But the worst part about it all now is that I look back and don’t have very many “mom and dad memories”.  I can’t remember a thing about their marriage (which, considering the divorce, might not be a bad thing).  Furthermore, I grew up during those key learning-about-the-opposite-sex years with only my mother and sister.  Yes, my dad did what he could to be a great father, when I’d cool off enough to let him.  But, in my opinion, a child who misses out on seeing a husband and wife interact on a daily bases really misses out on a fundamental course in relationship education!  Mom and dad both remarried wonderful people down the road (I’ve got the world’s best step-parents, no doubt), but I was in college before I ever came home to see a marriage.    

So that’s why I’ve had some brutally honest freak-out moments during our engagement thinking “Wait!  I don’t know how to do this!” (important note:  not at all to be confused with “I don’t want to do this!”  I very very very much want to do this, and I’m excited to do this!  The perfectionist in me just wants to do this wife-thing well!)  I’m grateful Austin comes from a stable family, and I look up to his parents as role models for a healthy marriage.  And I read! 

So, in my defense, I read these books out of love.  Because I want to be a good wife to my husband.  And because – Lord knows – I have a LOT to learn!

Oh, have I mentioned I was recently hired as a “Healthy Marriage and Relationships Instructor”? Now that’s just plain humorous given what I just shared above. ]   

Back to the books.  Like I’ve said, I’ve read a LOT of relationships books in my 25 years…but none can compare to my current read: The Love Dare.  I’m not sure which came first, but it is connected to the Christian movie “Fireproof”, which I highly recommend!  Kirk Cameron is the star character, Growing Pains fans.  That should be enough to reel you in.

  

I’m currently trying to convince Austin that Love Dare is the opposite of a “change men” book.  This book is a 40-day challenge to love your spouse, as they are, teaching readers to understand and practice unconditional love.  Each chapter of the book is a day, each day comes with a 3-page devotional on a biblical component of love, and each day has a dare.     

I’ll be honest.  I’ve started the book 3 different times, unable to finish the dares in sequence.  Really, it’s not a book that you can just put down one day and start back up on Dare #27 three months later.  The dares build in complexity (although the first dare is by far the hardest), and the change of heart that comes from reading the book can only be experienced from reading each devotional and following each dare daily.

But I write this blog reporting good news!  Today I reached day 23!  I’m over the “hump” and officially further than I have ever been in The Dare.  Reading and completing Love Dare has been one of my Lenten promises this year, and most days it has been much harder to stick to than my other Lenten resolution: “no chocolate”.  Believe it or not.

More than anything, this journey has been a humbling one.  I’ll be honest.  I’ve enjoyed reading every daily devotional (even if they brought to light some truths about myself that I’d rather not admit).  But, I failed miserably at many of the initial dares.  For example…

Day One:  Love is Patient.   

Who could argue with that!  Love must be patient.  Austin has a heck of a lot of patience to deal with me.  And I’m pretty patient – I taught in a middle school for 4 years and I can count the times I “lost it” on two hands!  Nothing short of miraculous.  In fact, I was known for my patience back at Stuart Middle School.       

The Dare (copied from the book):  “The first part of this dare is fairly simple.  Although love is communicated in a number of ways, our words often reflect the condition of our heart.  For the next day, resolve to demonstrate patience and to say nothing negative to your spouse at all.  If the temptation arises, choose not to say anything.  It is better to hold your tongue than to say something you’ll regret.”    

Alright, nothing negative.  I’m a positive person.  I can do this, I thought.  I pumped myself up about the dare all day long, and when I came home from work I was… the most negative I’ve ever been!  OR, maybe I was the same way I’ve always been… or maybe I was a little better?   But I noticed every time I made a complaint, snide remark, or made a selfish request! (Doesn’t that sound better than ‘selfish demand’?  It’s not.)  The point is, even trying my hardest with all of my will-power, I realized a hard truth:  My heart is kind of ugly. 

And – not to spoil it for you – the book goes on, challenging the reader with more simple dares such as the one above.  Honestly, many of them are doable out of sheer determination and self-control, but all of them together – no human being could love the way this book demands.  And since every chapter, which begins with “Love is…”, is biblical… I’m getting the idea that this kind of love is what God expects of me as a wife.  And, it’s what Austin deserves!   

So what have I learned through all this?  Of course love is patient, kind, thoughtful, forgiving.  It lets the other win (say what!).  It is not irritable (Yep, I failed miserably on that dare too). 

True love is a lot of qualities that I don’t naturally possess.  The book guides readers to understand that, alone, we will never be able to love like this…not long term…not by determination alone.  I personally have no choice but to partner with God on this one.  For my own good, and for the good of my marriage.   

Perhaps the coolest thing about Love Dare is that, in its own sneaky way, it is a “change men” book.  Only, in this case, it is changing a woman.   More accurately, God is changing me.

Hello world!

I have to admit, I’m surprised to find myself starting a blog.  When it comes to blogs, my opinions fall somewhere between “seriously, who has the desire – or the time – to publicize the details of her life like that?” to, more recently (due to the amount of time I’ve spent reading the blogs of total strangers), “why the heck don’t I have a blog??”.

The way I see it, a blog might be a beautifully passive tool that I can use to share what goes on inside my head (*scary*), document feelings about upcoming events (like, say, my wedding in less than 3 months), and possibly some entertaining stories about my Hoosier Boilermaker-gone-Kentuckian, city-gone-country, upper-middle-gone-lower-middle-class wonderful life.

I believe strongly in the pursuit of happiness and contentment….in career, in relationships, in life.   As my fiance likes to remind me (I’m a hopeless romantic and idealist), “it’s not always rainbows and butterflies, babe”.  And, to my disappointment, he is right.  Even a good life sucks sometimes.  And for some people, for inexplicable reasons, life sucks often.  But my mother gave me another piece of advice – “Be happy where you’re planted”.  She is convinced that happiness is a choice…no matter where you are and in what circumstances, a person can choose to be happy.  And – although sometimes I think she’s a little idealistic as well – I choose to believe in this philosophy along with the first.

My blog will be about a journey of happiness… maybe mundane at times, but maybe not (who can predict the future?).  Hopefully this blog will be something that other 20-somethings in transitions can resonate with.  At times I might get personal, other times I might get spiritual, and I’ll no-doubt get a little deep and philosophical.  But I’ll post what’s on my mind and heart.  It will mostly be for me, but secretly also for an audience of strangers like myself.  Explore the tabs at the top to get an idea of what future postings might hold…and then come back, read, and (respectfully) comment with your own thoughts! 

I hope you enjoy!  🙂