Cousins.

I love my family. I really do. And one of the things that I love about it the most is my cousins. Until my only child world was rocked at the age of 14, my cousins were the closest things to siblings that I had. I thought that Kyle, Wendi, and Kasey absolutely hung the moon. They were older and cooler and oh, so much fun. I mean, does it get any more fun than getting body slammed by two boys that are 9 and 6 years one's senior in a game of "run really fast and see if you can break through our arms"? Or, dressing up in matching green corduroy overalls and cream colored turtleneck shirts for studio portraits with your one and only girl cousin? I highly doubt it even though a thirteen year-old Wendi would probably beg to differ. And then the fun only continued once Justin was born and I got to be the big cousin. Well, once I got over the fact that I was no longer the baby in the family, I decided that he was pretty fun because he was my very own real live baby doll that didn't wake me up in the middle of the night crying because he did that at his own house. And with any luck there was the fact that maybe he would think that I was as cool as I thought the older cousins were. Except I was way cooler because I didn't body slam him. And now all of these years later, we're all grown up and do our own things on a daily basis. We may not necessarily talk to each other all of the time and know exactly what's going on in each others lives at any given moment, but it's a given that we are there for each other. We celebrate each other's victories or just stand alongside each other silently during the not-so-victorious times. And unless the moon is in the seventh house and Jupiter aligns with Mars, there's the certainty that we'll see each other on holidays. In my family, that makes holidays something to look forward to instead of dread. Really. I don't tell them enough how much I love them and respect them and look up to them, but I sure am glad that I have them. Each and every one of them. And even though we are all quite fluent in sarcasm, I'm being serious when I write this. Really. Because we are such a good looking [and humble] group and because I have zero patience with uploading pictures to Blogger, there are more pictures from Sunday's impromptu photo shoot here.

Soundtrack: Holy Week Edition.

For some, this week is a reminder that there is a finite number of days left in which Cadbury eggs are available for purchase. For others, this week is a mad rush of stuffing plastic eggs and searching high and low for coordinating outfits for the entire family so the spring picture will be just perfect. Speaking of, have I ever written about that Easter that my mama bought me a dress with a hat? That went over like a lead balloon. Finally, for some, this week is perhaps a bit somber as they reflect upon God's sacrifice of his own son so that one day we could live forever and forever with him without even worrying about whether or not we will still be able to fit into our Easter frocks after polishing off that last Cadbury egg. I suspect that for most of us, this week is some combination of all three of the aforementioned scenarios. In honor of this most important week, I'm featuring music fit for a king.

Desert Song by Hillsong. "My God is the God who provides." This entire song is oh so good, but this particular line has been my mantra these days as I've been wandering through the desert.

Forever Reign by Hillsong. Ok, while I think that Hillsong was put on this earth to provide us with a small sneak preview of what music in Heaven is going to be like [actually I have no idea what the music in Heaven is going to be like...but I would be ok if it was like their music], I am continuously confused by the fact that sometimes they are referred to as Hillsong while other times they are Hillsong United [is that when they are playing soccer in the UK?] and sometimes it's Hillsong Live. I like this song because that it reminds me that even on my crankiest of days when there isn't a lot of good in me, God is still good.

Grace Flows Down by Christy Nockels. I hope that she sings this song on Friday at the Good Friday service. Bonus if she sings it with Chris Tomlin. Did I mention that I will be there in person to hear the performance with some of my very favorite people in all the world? Good Friday becomes even greater.

Waiting Here for You by Christy Nockels. Actually Chris Tomlin wrote this one and she sings it so my hopes are high that we'll hear this one too. Verse 3 [which incidentally it seems is always the verse omitted in hymns in the Baptist church] is my favorite: "You are everything you promised / Your faithfulness is true / And we're desperate for your presence / All we need is you."

How He Loves by John Mark McMillan. I like this version because the original lyrics of heaven meeting earth like a sloppy wet kiss haven't been watered down to be more churchy. I mean, is it really appropriate to talk about sloppy wet kisses in church? I think so. But I'm no music minister. If this song doesn't make you feel like you have been fought for as the greatest most cherished prize ever then well, please listen to it again. And again. Until the tears streaming down your face make you wonder if you've been given a sloppy wet kiss.

Something Beautiful by needtobreathe. We've all heard it. A lot. We all love it. A lot.

No More, No Less by MercyMe. Have y'all heard this song yet? I think it's pretty new. Must be because the powerpoint gurus haven't had time to upload a slideshow set to the song with the lyrics over lovely pictures of puppy dogs, rainbows, sugarplum fairies to YouTube yet. No more, no less...if only I could be content with that.

Beauty of the Cross by Jonny Diaz. You know, I will never be able to say with certainty because well, I wasn't there, but whenever I think about the Cross, I think it would have been a sight far too painful to witness. It would have been ugly and full of hurt and suffering. But God made something beautiful out of something horrible. And that wasn't the last time it happened. It happens every single day in our own messy lives.

You by Hillsong. I've said it before and I'll say it again: those Pentecostals from Australia make some good music. However, every single time this song is played at church at the very beginning I think the band is about to break out in some sort of RiverDance routine or something. But they never do. Probably because Pentecostals from Australia don't RiverDance. Neither do non-denominationals [read: basically Baptists if you live in the South] from the United States.

Alive Again by Matt Maher. Ok, I'll be honest, I don't really know this song very well. I heard it on the radio the other day and saw the title on the screen and thought to myself "well, Easter is about the resurrection and living and Jesus died but then rose on the 3rd day so it'll work to round out the list." Please don't criticize my lack of Bible story telling savvy...I never went to Sunday School as a kid. [Why in the world Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance" comes up as the next song after this one is beyond me.]

I am so very thankful for the gift of the Cross. There's nothing I could have ever done to have earned it. Or deserved it. As with all gifts though, the best ones are never earned or deserved...they are given freely and the giver does so out of love without regard to his cost. The Cross represents the gift of eternal life. It's ours for the receiving.

That time I ate 3 Klondike bars right before going to bed.

I feel like I should preface today's post. Primarily as a stall tactic to get to the inevitable explanation that yes, I really did eat 3 Klondike bars right before bed a couple of weeks ago. However, the preface should also include the explanation that I am using this entire post as a stall tactic for another post that I am going to write eventually. By talking about my skill of consuming copious amounts of calories in a short period of time, the next post that I write - the one that has the potential to make me appear vulnerable and less together than I typically like to appear to the outside world - won't seem quite as intimidating. So all of that to say, this is kind of like stepping into the shallow end of the pool as opposed to the cannonball method of entry right into the deep end. Warning: If you make it to the end of this post, you should treat yourself to a Klondike bar. It just so happens that I really do believe that there is something good in all bad situations. For example: last summer when my little world fell apart, I dropped weight like I was a high school wrestler the week before the state meet. Except I didn't wear trash bags and go running in poorly ventilated rooms. Suddenly in July I was two sizes smaller than I was in May. So now, nearly a year later while he who shall rename nameless has managed to maintain a double chin, I have managed to maintain my new and improved body that looks much better at 32 than it did at 22. [Yes, even the small, shallow wins should be celebrated on the road to total victory.] But. And this is where the but has potential to get really big...I've got to be careful if I plan to stay in those size 2's for a couple of seasons. The trauma and drama has passed. My appetite has long since returned. I'm finished with grad school which was another stressor and instant calorie burner. This means that I can't eat whatever I want to whenever I want to without zero regard to what it's going to do to my body. Pause: I realize that there's so much more to being healthy than pant size and the way one looks. Back in the summer though I literally had to force myself to eat so any calories were good calories. Now though that I am back to three meals a day and snacks in between, there's not really room for THREE KLONDIKE BARS right before bed. What in the world ever possessed me to eat 3 right in a row in the first place anyway? Because they were so good, that's why. And they were a treat. Darn Publix and those BOGO specials. Look at me making excuses..."I don't typically have those in my house."..."I'm just celebrating the fact that I have an appetite."..."If Publix didn't have those specials, I would have never bought them in the first place." Sure, in the overall grand scheme of things, eating that much ice cream in one sitting isn't that big of a deal. But what would you think if I told you that the night before, I ate TWO Klondike bars right before bedtime? Because I did. Anybody see a pattern forming? Am I the only person out there that takes on the mentality of "well, I've already eaten one which means my eating is shot for the day, so I might as well eat another."? Or what about, "I know that I said that I was going to put up those dishes after this episode of The Closer goes off, but there's a marathon on TV and this next episode is really good too."? Or the classic battle that I fight each morning of "I can snooze for 9 more minutes and still make it in time." [I never make it in time.] Those examples are all pretty trivial but what about when a drink leads to another drink which leads to another drink? Or when one swipe of the credit card at this store leads to another swipe of the credit card at that store because you can't have a new dress without the new shoes to go with it? Or when you were just going to smoke those last two packs in your last carton of cigarettes and be done with them forever...three cartons ago? Or when an innocent lunch with a coworker leads to an intentional dinner date. We are creatures of habit. And why is it that the good habits are so easy to let go of and the bad habits are so hard to break? Oh? That's just me? Well, then you all go on about your business of enjoying a Klondike bar. You've earned it. Oh...because sometimes we do earn the right to loosen up a bit don't we? Or least that's what we tell ourselves. Or at least we are much quicker to hear and act on that when maybe others tell us so. Anyone else have dolphin hearing when the opportunity to loosen up and reward ourselves presents itself, but it's like the batteries are dead in Grandpa's Whisper 2000 when someone calls us out on a behavior? Again, my apologies if I'm just talking to myself here. While I'm on the subject of habits, I'm much better at planning to break them than actually breaking them. The time to decide not to hit the snooze button again is not at 6:22 a.m. The time to decide to stop eating Klondike bars like they are rice cakes is when you walk past the ice cream aisle at the grocery store...not when they are in your freezer beckoning you like a lighthouse beckons a ship lost at sea in the storm when you reach into the freezer to get the broccoli that's in there. If I've learned anything in my 30's, it's that I cannot do this life alone. No matter how hard I try or how much I love to give the impression that I've got it all together, the reason why I'm together as I am, is because of the people in my life. It's much simpler, I've learned. This doesn't mean I've given up my independence. It just means that I don't have to be Wonder Woman all the time. Sure, no one knows our own individual struggles better than we do. On the other hand, no one is better at justifying them than we are. Of course we don't want to share our struggles with the people who love and respect us, because well, they might not love and respect us anymore if they find out. But here's the deal: those are the people that are going to love us through those things. So we've got to let them. Why? Not because I said so. But because there's a book that says it: "See to it, brothers, that none of you has a sinful, unbelieving heart that turns away from the living God. But encourage one another daily, as long as it is called 'Today,' so that none of you may be hardened by sin's deceitfulness." -Hebrews 3:12-13. When I read this passage for my Bible Study and specifically the phrase "sinful unbelieving heart" the other day, I was taken aback. The reason why was because that was pretty much the phrase used in an explanation of one's actions and behaviors towards me one time. I think it's easy for us all to get a little hard-hearted at times. I know I have. But I'm grateful that God's grace is stronger and will break even the hardest of hearts. He's not going to use his grace with force though. Don't worry.

Soundtrack: I wish there was a 3rd Avett brother Edition.

I should apologize in advance for any glaring grammatical faux pas that will more than likely appear in this post. Because y'all, I'm exhausted. There are two primary contributors to said exhaustion. The first being the fact that my dog consumed 6 pounds of dog food while I was in the shower yesterday afternoon. Do you people know what happens when a dog consumes a week's worth of food in 20 minutes? Bad things. Very. Bad. Things. And those very bad things will not only keep the dog up until 4 in the morning, but the dog's person as well. But I'm not here to lament upon my unplanned trip to the vet and investment in the upholstery cleaner industry. My exhaustion is partially attributed to The Avett Brothers show that went well past my bedtime last night. I had the good fortune of being pal Erin's "plus 1" because her hubby was all mus-zak'd out from SXSW. [Thanks again, Erin & Bill!] Added bonus that the show was here in town! I'm going to end up loving this place yet, y'all. I've always liked The Avett Brothers once those two songs of theirs that they always play on the radio became a part of the regular rotation. I began to love them a little when I saw them perform on the Grammy's in the Mumford & Sons/The Avett Brothers/Bob Dylan trifecta that I call musical perfection. After last night's show, it's safe to say that I love them a lot. I even said "HP Avett" a few times in my mind until I realized that they were both married. I'm no music critic and I don't "know music" in the sense that musicians know music, but they were phenomenal. They had crazy energy. Since I can't properly describe it, I would encourage you to check them out for yourselves at one of their upcoming shows. You can check here to see when they are coming to a city near you. To prepare for the show, you can go here to listen to all kinds of their music. Legally! But because we all know that I play favorites, I will not sign off without sharing a [very] few of my favorites along with why they are my favorites.

• Living of Love - "Your heart says not again / what kind of mess have you got me in / But when the feelings there / it can take you anywhere" Yes, yes it can. And by "it", I mean love. And I think they do too.


• Kick Drum Heart - Ok, don't laugh [or laugh if you want] but there's something about this song that reminds me of The Who's "You Better You Bet". Go ahead and admit that you can hear it too.


• Distraction #74 - Just another example of what happens when you "kinda love two girls".


• Sanguine - I just especially love his voice in this one. And the lyrics. Don't forget the lyrics!


• Spanish Pipedream - This is a John Prine song that they covered. Listen to it (when you search for it using your favorite search engine of choice) without tapping your toes. I dare you. I'd say that you have a better chance of finding Jesus on your own.

Dumbed down and numb by lack of sleep...

The Space Between.

Unless one has given up all forms of media for Lent or has spent the last week in a secluded over the water bungalow in Tahiti, you probably know that the face in the picture above belongs to a man named Jamie Hood. Those of us who call The Classic City home are perhaps a little more familiar with his face because it has been plastered on a few billboards around town. If my fellow citizens are anything like me, they were probably on a bit of high alert each and every time they walked out the door to take their dog on a walk near a wooded area that happened to be only a few miles from the crime scene until around Thursday when the authorities narrowed down his whereabouts to a more specific location east and then north of town. [You can take the girl out of Hickory Flat, but you can't take Hickory Flat out of the girl.] The crime that this man committed is heinous. And inexcusable. And senseless. And all of those other one-dimensional words that we use in an attempt to describe a three-dimensional tragedy that will forever impact a number of people far too great to count. But since this picture began to circulate late Tuesday afternoon, the face that I see every single time I look at this picture is an entirely different one. A couple of weeks ago, I visited a local high school in order to speak with a Teen Parent Group about all of the wonders and benefits of higher education that were available to them. Let's be honest: I was probably just as prepared to be the keynote speaker at a robotics convention. Silly me for not anticipating ahead of time the possibility that some of these teen parents may actually have their children with them. I guess there is no other option when the nanny calls in sick at the last minute. I don't incorporate [sardonic] wit and humor to make light of the situation at all. In fact, I probably do it as more of a defense because the whole situation was absolutely heart breaking. You see, in the 10 years that I have been giving presentations to groups of high school students about going to college, not once have I ever presented while holding a baby on my hip. Until that day. And since that day I have not been able to get that precious baby boy out of my mind. He is probably about 18 months old. And like most any other kiddo in that stage of life, he was so busy and full of wonder and happy and easily entertained by something as simple as looking at a Spiderman folder. At least until something shinier caught his eye, anyway. He was the kind of baby that makes you wonder if you could fit him in your purse and carry him home with you. Because the reality is, his reality probably won't be filled with wonder and happiness for all that much longer in comparison to those 18 month olds out in the world living an "ideal" life. His reality is that he has a greater chance of going to jail than he does of going to college one day. So the week's constant news coverage of the loss of a police officer, shooting of another, and search for the shooter has led me to think a lot about the space between. What happens in a person's life between sheer childhood innocence when the natural response is to love all that is in the world and the point of committing murder? How does a person get to the point that he or she feels that the bad choices or obviously very wrong choices are only the ones that they have? How can a person become so hardened that even if he knows that the choice he makes is the wrong one, it doesn't stop him from making it? At what point is it ever okay for one to not have to be responsible for his poor decisions? [Hint: Never.] All of these questions absolutely make me stop and give thanks for grace and love and good people and their positive influence that have been so commonplace in my life. But a little lesson that I've been learning over the past two years or so is that just being thankful isn't my only responsibility. It's really not enough for me to just pause for a few minutes and say "whew, I'm glad that I never have to worry about getting to the point in my life to where I make such stupid decisions" and go about my day of looking at someone's 2009 vacation pictures on Facebook and checking the 5 day forecast to determine if it's going to be worth my time to straighten my hair before rain moves in and ruins the fruits of my labor. On the flip side though, I don't exactly know what is enough either. But I hope that I never become so apathetic by the dismal news that faces us in the headlines each day or absorbed in my own worries that I stop trying to figure it out. As I'm sitting here typing all of this, I notice the time in the bottom right hand corner of the screen. The funeral service for Officer Elmer "Buddy" Christian will begin in about 15 minutes. He is being buried in the cemetery near where I live. All afternoon I have heard the practice shots (???) that I assume are the prelude to the gun salute that will given in his honor during the graveside portion of his service. My heart is very sad for his family. Even though I know nothing about them, I do know a little about losing a family member. And since last Tuesday, his wife and his children have closed one space and entered into a completely new one. It's the space between life when their family was still intact on this earth and the time when it is not. It's probably pretty dark. Of course their grief will be great, but my prayer is that their hope will be greater.

Shamrocks, Leprechauns, & the Fighting Irish.

This subject line [or entire blog post] really has nothing to do with much of anything at all unless of course you count the fact that today is St. Patrick's Day. Or March 17th if you're [insert all other nationalities besides Irish here]. When it comes to country of origin, I think I'm pretty much a mutt. Surely though I've got some Irish in me from somewhere down the line if I look to the pigmentation of my skin as a clue.

There are three reasons why I like this particular day, and none of them have anything to do with the road rising to meet me or the sun shining on my back or whatever.

Reason #1: Cake.I might have mentioned once or eleventy dozen times how much I love the mint chocolate grasshopper cake from The Grit. Well, I made it last night. I won't share the recipe online because then before you know it I'll be like that lady who got mad at Neiman Marcus for charging her 43 million dollars for a cookie recipe so she made it her lot in life to share it with the whole free world. Or at least those of us fortunate enough to have an email address and internet access. You can find the recipe here though. Or if you're like me and fortunate enough to have a friend who will loan you her copy of the cookbook to score the recipe. Speaking of score...

Reason #2: Brackets close at 12:00 noon today, folks!

Have you made your picks? I'm slightly upset that Notre Dame isn't actually playing today because it seems only fitting that St. Patrick be honored in such a way. Or maybe this way all the players can honor him by drinking green beer [errr...gatorade] tonight in preparation for tomorrow's match-up against Akron.

Reason #3: This is just silly and it makes me laugh.

Tripp & Tyler Wishing You a Happy St. Patrick's Day from Andy Waddell on Vimeo.

"After all, tomorrow is another day."

Every once in awhile I like to throw around Scarlett O'Hara phrases even though this fictional Southern belle and I are nothing alike. Unless you consider the shared blessing that we are natives of Georgia and the shared curse that we both have been known to swoon over "the Perfect Knight". And look how well that worked out for both of us. But I'm not here to discuss the [two] parallels between my life and the leading lady in American literature who was portrayed on the big screen by an English actress. Better than a Yankee, I suppose. Oh, I kid!

Just this past Sunday night, I was having a conversation with pals over a delicious and heavenly dinner at The Grit. In this conversation, I might have mentioned that I was going to work harder at loving the people who are the most unlovable because they are the ones who need love the most. How noble, HP.

Fast forward not even 48 hours later to this morning at work. I might have been in a rant to one of those same pals regarding some very unlovable people. Contrary to the belief of some folks, I've got far more important things to do than sit around dreaming up barriers and implementing policy to keep people from going to college. Why would I do that when I would rather be calculating the averages of the winning scores and losing scores in the NCAA championship for the last 10 years to come up with my scores for this year's bracket?

Over email today, another pal and I were discussing options for weekend fun. When she asked what I wanted to do my response was: "Drink. Heavily. Or bust knee caps."

Who is the unlovable one now? Just me...HP.

Later today I decided that I should check myself before I wrecked myself so I listened to a randomly selected online message. Here was the scriptual basis for said randomly selected message: "Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like someone who looks at his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like." -James 1:22-24

When I get really honest with myself, I know that nowhere in the B-i-b-l-e are we told to drink heavily and bust knee caps. Even though when I get even more honest with myself, I sometimes think it would be really cool if it did. [...Until my knee caps or the knee caps belonging to one of my people were the ones getting busted.]

Because I needed the reminder in a bad way today and will potentially need it again before my morning coffee buzz wears off tomorrow, I'll share what we are told to do: "Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you." - Ephesians 4:32

The truth is that not every day can be a 10. We are living in a state of delusion if we think that each morning Chesley is going to max out the wizometer by giving the day an 11 before we even wash the sleep out of our eyes. But "[b]ecause of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning..." -Lamentations 2:22-23.

This is great news for a girl like me who knows that while I can't erase today's attitude, when I put myself to bed in about 5 minutes, the attitude will be put to rest too. And because we are loved so much by a God that hands out grace as freely as I handed out eyerolls today, I get the chance to try again and do better tomorrow.

That time Emily Blunt gave me a dirty look.

Have I ever written about one of the times I was in Vegas last year, and we were at the Beatles Cirque show "Love" and sat in front of John Krasinski and Emily Blunt? No? Sorry, I guess that I'm so used to rubbing elbows with the Hollywood crowd that I forgot to mention it. Anyways, long story short, we sat in front of John Krasinski and Emily Blunt at the Beatles Cirque show "Love" and upon my party's discovery and recognition of them at the end of the show, the future Mrs. Jim Halpert was none too pleased with us. Personally I think she was just jealous that her man friend was more popular among my group than she was. Besides, it was around the same time that Pam was out on maternity leave at Dunder Mifflin, and Emily knew the consequences of being caught in public with a man who belonged to another woman. Oh look at me mixing up television and reality.

Anyhoodle, I write all of that as a segue [I love using that word.] to talk about Emily Blunt and Matt Damon's movie, The Adjustment Bureau. Suz and I went to see it the weekend that it opened. Y'all, I love it and I can't stop thinking about it. [That sounds like my life is more boring then it really is, but you know what I mean. Hopefully.] I will not go too in depth here because if you haven't seen it yet, farbeit for me to be the spoiler. Just go see it. I've got a Living Social movie voucher so if you play your cards right and ask nicely, I may take you because I want to see it again. And we all know my hang ups about going to the movies alone. People would probably think that I snuck my cat into the theater with me in my purse or something.

Here are a few vague reasons why I love it:
1. Matt Damon. [Honestly I could just stop there because he's reason enough.]
2. Prior to the movie, Emily Blunt had no formal training in ballet and she played her part as a dancer quite gracefully. Plus, she didn't frown at me this time.
3. I have spent the last year or so of my life pondering things like free will and fate and who is really in charge at the end of the day. [Even though I'm highly confident of who is in charge despite my affinity for sometimes trying to control things beyond my control.] While this is just a movie that was created by mere mortals with the purpose of entertainment for others, it challenges me to think about how free will and fate intersect with each other and how my choices not only effect me but folks around me as well. Nothing like the responsibility of messing with the lives of other people as added pressure to make good choices.
4. Matt Damon. [Oh I said that already, didn't I?]

Seriously, stop reading this and get to the movies!

Soundtrack: Running Edition.

I should begin by explaining that this week's musical montage does not necessarily feature songs to load up on your iPod for actual running. It seems that I've given running up in exchange for watching television. But now that I'm another year older, I have decided that I should reconsider my decision. Especially if I want to keep eating things like Vegan Grasshopper Cake from The Grit as I continue to march toward my golden years.

Today I'm going to focus on a type of running that I am really good at. As in, marathon quality runner. It's running from God. Whoa, this post suddenly got a little heavy. Stick with me. A couple of weeks ago at church we finished up a series on Jonah. By "we", I mean that I listened while Andy Stanley taught. For those of you who have forgotten the felt board version of Jonah's story from VBS, he ran so far from what God told him to do that he ended up in the belly of a whale. [Gross.] But there's more to the story that goes far beyond the felt board version. Andy's explanation is much clearer, funnier, and thorough than I could ever clearly relay so if you find yourself in the situation at work and your office network is down and Internet Explorer is working like a champ, check it out here. The series is called "White Flag". And it's awesome. If you don't time to listen though, after I share my "running" songs, I'll conclude this post with the theme and moral of the book of Jonah, in addition to my favorite quote of Andy's from the entire series. But first, please enjoy the music while your party is being reached...

Born to Run by Bruce Springsteen. Ok, so maybe this would be a good song to have playing in the background as you take to the open roads on a cool, crisp morning as you knock out a quick 5 miles. It just so happens that's about what I do each morning...on my drive in to work.

Run by Collective Soul. Remember Collective Soul? Have I got a long way to run? Goodness, I hope not.

Running to Stand Still by U2. I try not to repeat songs in this little soundtrack segment that I do, but I love it. By far my favorite U2 song. And sometimes when we do run, aren't we running so we can get to the place where we can stop? How often when we run, do we know that we're running from something without a single clue as to what we're actually running to?

Run, Baby, Run by Sheryl Crow. Y'all. Sheryl Crow is 49. I hope I look as good as she does when I reach that age [20 years from now - ha!]. Do you think if I resume running that I have a better chance? What? Eating more cake is actually the secret of aging gracefully? Speaking of cake...

The Distance by Cake. Let's all hop in the Delorian and do a little time traveling back into the 1990's for this one folks! Have you all heard their new song though? It's called "Sick of You". Oh how I love Cake. ...of multiple varieties.

Run by George Strait. What's not to love about this song? Nothing. That's what.

Runaway by Bon Jovi. We're all little runaways when it comes right down to it. Now, if I knew that JBJ was waiting for me at the end of my run, I might be encouraged to run a little more quickly. Just sayin'.

Glory Defined by Building 429. You know the good thing for us is that no matter how far or how fast we run from God, we will never outrun him. And maybe while we're running, he's not going to chase us but simply wait for us to come back. Because when the chaos that results from our running gets to be too much or those things that we thought were worth the running prove otherwise, inevitably we will run back to God because deep down in our gut, we know that he's what we need. [I know that was longest sentence ever.] You know, like cake is what we want but vegetables are what we need. And we can only eat so much cake before our teeth begin to hurt. I digress.

So, back to the aforementioned theme, moral, and quote...

The theme of Jonah is found in Jonah 4:2 - "He [Jonah] prayed to the LORD, ...'I knew that you are a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love, a God who relents from sending calamity'."

The moral of Jonah is found in Jonah 4:9-11 - Ok, so I hyperlinked the actual scripture but Andy boiled it down to this: Jonah was a good man but he was concerned with all the wrong stuff. [Yikes...I feel like my name could quite easily replace Jonah's.]

The biggest takeaway for me:

"God is generous with his grace and thorough in his discipline." - Andy Stanley [See Jonah 2.]

A place in my story.

Do you all remember back in January when I was waxing philosophic about resolving to be resolute as my New Year's resolution? Well, at that time I neglected to share with you three readers another resolution that I had made. I know, I know...what is a virtual relationship here in the blogosphere without full disclosure of every detail of my life, right? My apologies. I left out my resolution to join a small group at church intentionally because at the time, the meeting to join said small group hadn't happened yet and I was doubtful as to whether or not I would actually follow through and go. Why? Because I know myself and know that I tend to get painfully shy in new situations that involves me knowing nary a soul, therefore it's easier to just avoid all new situations, that's why. Instead of announcing my intentions here, I asked a small group of trusted friends to keep me accountable. I love those people.

So. All of that to say this: I've recently joined a community group through church. As a means of getting to know each other, we each spend about 15-20 minutes telling our story. There's no right or wrong way to tell one's story, but I went with the book's suggestion when putting my story together. I do love a good set of clear instructions which probably explains why I would be tickled pink if God spoke directly to us in a loud audible voice from Heaven. I suspect he would sound like Morgan Freeman if he did communicate that way. Or I guess it would be that Morgan Freeman sounds like him...oh never mind. I digress. The recommended format is that we shape our story around 3 key people, 3 key events, and 3 key places. For the sake of your sanity, I'm only going to feature one place in this post.

The place I'm writing about today is Muir Woods. I've talked about it before, but in case you need a refresher, it's a national park just north of San Francisco. It happens to be one of my favorite places in the world. I've been fortunate to visit there twice.

Once in 2006...

Once in 2009...

I wish the picture of me in 2009 was a full body shot because one could see that I'm wearing the same shoes that I was wearing when I was there in 2006. Obviously my ability to select shoes that can withstand the test of time is much better than my ability to select travel companions that can withstand the test of time. Oh, my hilarity cracks me up.

The first time I traveled to Muir Woods, I loved it because it was a place that I had never visited. There's just something exhilarating about exploring unknown territory. The entire day was just one of those fun and carefree days. Good conversation, good times, good memories. I found myself wondering at the end of the day if things could possibly be any better than they were at that one particular moment in time.

The second time I traveled to Muir Woods, I was in the early stages of love. If you've been fortunate enough to be in that fun and giddy stage of life, you know that the sky is always bluer, the birds' songs are always more melodious, and apples are a little crispier and sweeter. [And the phrases used to create imagery are a little lamer.] Needless to say, that visit to Muir Woods was almost more than I could handle because I was in a place that I loved with a person that I loved. I knew life could not be any better than it was at that particular moment in time.

I believe that God creates places in this world like Muir Woods for multiple reasons. His creation is beautiful, and he wants us (who are part of his whole creation) to enjoy it to the fullest while we are here. For me, Muir Woods is a sanctuary of sorts. We all have places like this. If you don't, please put it on your list to find one. The trees are so incredibly tall that it's almost as if while you're in the woods, they are serving as a shield from everything else happening in the world. There's a stream that runs through the woods, and while it's one of the most peaceful, quiet, and calm places I've ever visited, the water adds just enough background noise to remind visitors that they are standing in place that's full of life. But I also believe that God takes great delight in wowing and wooing us. Muir Woods is merely a taste of what else he has done and is going to do. It's almost as if he's saying to us "If you think that's something, just wait until you see what's coming. Just wait."

Until July 2006, I had no idea that Muir Woods even existed. Had someone told me when I was there the first time that in three years I would be back there and then described what my life was going to look like at that particular place in time, I would have never believed that someone. The reason why is because I was at a good place in my life in all areas so the thought that it could be better would have been unfathomable. But...sure enough, when I was there three years later, I was in an even better place in my life. I'm sure one of the reasons why I love Muir Woods as much as I do is because not only is it a great place to visit, when I was there both times, I was at a great place in my life.

I don't write this to paint life as just one big never ending series of puppy dog, rainbow, and yellow baby chick moments. I write this because through Muir Woods I have learned and am beginning to understand more clearly that the God who put little old me here in this world is the same God who put those big old trees here. And while some of those trees are so big that it hurts your neck to look all the way to the top of them, God is bigger than those trees. And just when we think we've discovered and experienced all the greatness that this world has to offer, God brings us to a new place (both geographically and in life). It's a place we could not have gotten to without all of those other places in our past. At the end of the day, our current place is merely a link to our future.

I'm quite thankful that there's beautiful scenery and good company along the way. More than that though, I am thankful that as the scenery and company changes, the One who created it never will.