7 days or 70 million years?

If you are like me and believe in God's word, you probably have asked yourself, "But what about the dinosaurs?  Where do they fall into place?"  Here is an interesting article that addresses some of those questions in an interesting way: http://www.crosswalk.com/spirituallife/11634409/  I am not saying I agree or disagree with the author, I just found it to be an interesting conversation on a topic that I have always wondered about.  I will need to understand this topic better in the coming years, especially if Noah is sent to the public schools where evolution is the only thing that is taught in science classes. 

Has anyone ever read the book Dragons or Dinosaurs? by Derek Isaacs.  Any thoughts on it?  Are there any other texts that you have come across that has enlightened you on how 7 day creationism and scientific findings fit hand-in-hand? 

More money down the drain

Have you ever been to Janie and Jack?  Don't go.  They'll steal all your money (Brandon said this is only true if you are female). 
Janie and Jack is a clothing store for babies, toddlers, and young children.  But, unlike other kids clothing stores, everything they sell is ridiculously adorable and ridiculously expensive.  When I go mall walking, I always make a special trip to their door just to "ooh" and "aah" at their clothes, even though I know I could never justify buying them for Noah or any other future child. 
Well, right now they are having their 60% off sale, which means that everything is still ridiculously expensive.  But, Brandon was kind to me and let me buy Noah one outfit (which was ridiculously expensive).  I basically make Noah wear at least part of the outfit everyday just so I feel like I get my money's worth.  I know Noah could care less what he wears, in fact, I think he would rather not wear any clothes at all.  But what is the point of having a baby if you can't make him look adorable, right? 

What is your favorite children's clothing store? 

  (Note: Noah is not allowed to touch outlets or plugs.  He was being a naughty little monkey, but it was the only way I could get him to stand still for a moment to get a picture.)

Awkwardly feminine

Growing up, I noticed I was never quite like the majority of my same-sexed peers.  When I was in elementary school, I would ignore the girls during recess and play kickball with the boys.  Now as an adult, I always despise the fact that the guys get to go watch the game, while the girls finish up the dishes and talk for the rest of the evening.
I enjoy dressing up and I really enjoy hearing my name associated with the word beautiful (don't forget to use the comment section, *wink*), but I don't want to shave my legs and I'd rather not put pantyhose on, thank you very much.  I will, but I'd rather not.
I enjoy having a good hair day but I rarely do as I have no concept as to what to do with my poof ball (that's my term of affection for the stuff atop of my head).  I have been searching for 28 years for someone to teach me how to manage my hair, but have found no answers.  Any real women have suggestions? 
I feel a sense of terror when I have to put make-up on in a public restroom.  I rarely do, but when it is necessary for certain reasons (...zits...) I can feel the judgment across the lavatory as everyone is laughing at my poor-girl foundation and awkward application.  Of course, if I was loaded, I would have someone make me up every day so I could look down on all the 'uglies' that don't have personal trainers like me.  I would also pay someone to permanently air brush my zits away.
I just about break into hives when I hear mention of "Mary Kay" or some variation of the same.  I was snookered into going a couple of times to these "make your friends poor, ahem, I mean rich" pyramid-scheme parties, and I've got to tell you, they make me feel like I am from another planet.  Moments like a girl screaming in excitement over the newest facial cleanser, or someone telling me all the differences between this foot exfoliater versus the nine other exfoliators she's tried in the last year really remind me of how I felt at junior high dances- sweaty and alone.
Now, I'm not completely unfeminine and I do know what I hate about "masculinity."  Such items include spitting, smoking, smelling, farting...basically anything that smells bad I dislike.  I dislike constant bed head covered up by way of a ball cap.  By the way fellas, we all know you don't brush your hair (or are balding), so stop trying to act like your hat is just part of your swag.  I hate when men wrestle at a get-together and then act like that is a really manly thing to do.  Um, no it's not.  You are hugging each other all over for all your friends and complete strangers to see.  Again, gentlemen, sadly this "fun time" just makes us ladies more aware of how utterly out of shape and weak you are.  My girlfriend LaToya could totally take you.  
Besides despising certain masculine traits, I also enjoy being a girl.  I love chocolate.  I love romance.  I love Jewel and Kelly Clarkson (don't judge me!!!).  I love talking and sharing my deepest, darkest secrets to my closest girlfriends.  Also, being married, clearly, I like men- specifically, I love my man.  But, despite all my feminine traits, I still feel like I will never be part of the club.  But you know what?  I am sure I am not alone, and I am sure that many of you ladies are faking it like that suntan that comes out of a bottle.                

Noah, what does a horse say? "Neigh, neigh." Noah, what does a mommy say? "Nag, nag."

When a man becomes a husband, he learns how to watch chick flicks while ignoring his gag reflex, put down the toilet seat, eat fruit, and seem sensitive during the PMS seasons of life.  Consequently, when a woman becomes a wife, she learns how to control her man.  She learns how far on the emotional spectrum she has to go to get what she wants.  She also learns to never forget anything that her man may have done incorrectly so she may hold it against him as an infinite tool to control him and to kill his spirit.  Men learn how to be effeminate and women learn how to be domineering.  Of course, these attributes never actually needed to be learned.  They were in the person all along, marriage just brought them out in the ugliest of ways.
In a good world, the husband would own up to his failures, confess his sin, and change.  His wife, overtaken by her husband's godly leadership, would follow suit.  She confesses her sin to God and to her husband and she changes.  Voila, problems erased.
But, we don't live in a good world.  We don't even live in a decent world.  This world is evil and thus the occupants do not usually do what they ought to do.  However, that does not give us ladies an excuse for not doing our part to live righteously.  As a wife, I am called to respect my husband even if he is sinning against God. 
1 Peter 3:1 ...you wives, be submissive to your own husbands so even if any of them are disobedient to the word, they may be won without a word by the behavior of their wives. 
 I understand that this verse gives offense to many of my readers.  I felt the same way the first time I read it.  My reaction was something like, "Are you kidding?  When my husband does something wrong he is going to hear about it.  He's never getting off easy with me.  If he really loves me he'll change and I won't stop bringing it up until he does change."
However, here is what I have found to be trustworthy through the nearly 5 years of marriage to my husband: God knows my husband better than I do.  In fact, He knows all men and how they are made better than any of us because He is their Creator.  This verse from 1Peter isn't should not be mistaken for an archaic idea where women should shut up and be obedient to a sad, sloppy man.  This verse is a guide to a more enjoyable, productive life and marriage.  What an amazing responsibility that has been placed upon a wife's shoulder!  God tells us here how we might bring our men to obedience to God.  What and honor God has placed upon us "little" ladies.
Furthermore, this verse is an amazing warning to keep wives from sin.  When our man is wrong, or at least we think so, what is our first reaction?  To nag.  We don't just humbly propose something, we let him have it.  But if silence is to be our first reaction, nagging certainly cannot be the next step.  Remember, it is our reverential behavior that will go furthest with our husbands, not our words.  That is not say that we never speak, but this starting place of silence and reverential behavior should lead to prayer before God as to what to do or say if anything and then maturity and reverence in our speech if we are to speak.  By winning our husbands over without a word, God keeps us from sinning with our own mouths.
I confess, I cherish this verse as this behavior is never my first gut reaction.  When my husband does something wrong, I want to scream it in 85 different ways until I feel better.  I confess that I do not have a gentle and quiet spirit.  But, compared to my loud and obnoxious spirit before I was married, I know that the Holy Spirit is constantly sanctifying my soul.  Perhaps one day, maybe before I die, I might reflect something that resembles godly meekness and tranquility.  You may laugh and say that is an impossible task, but I say with God all things are possible.          
1 Peter 3:4 But let it [your adornment] be the hidden person of the heart, with the imperishable quality of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is precious in the sight of God. 

Do you ever go on tirades against your hubby?  Do you ever wish your first reaction would be to listen rather than yell?  How can you be more honoring in your behavior toward your spouse this week?  I would love to hear testimonies of those whom have brought their spouses closer to God because of their behavior.    

"With our powers combined, we are Captain Gameboard!"

I love Scrabble.  I almost always win.  My friend Curtis beat me once and my Dad beat me once, but other than that I think I have always won.  I beat my 16 year old babysitter and her mom when I was in 4th grade.  I always beat my brother, and I always beat Brandon.  I don't beat people because I am smarter, I beat people because of my killer instinct.  I know I need serious help.
My killer instinct can only take me so far, however.  For instance, when my husband and I play Trivial Pursuit, I always lose.  And when I say lose, I mean he has all 6 pieces and I have 0.  He obliterates me.  I cry, wish I would have payed more attention in Honors History, and then promptly ask him if he would like to play me in Scrabble now.  I know I need serious help.
Yet, when our powers combine, we become the ultimate board game domination couple.  We destroy our competition every time we play Cranium because Brandon is good at all the categories I struggle with and vice-versa. We gloat at the fact that we are the ultimate husband-wife board gaming couple.  We know we need serious help. 

To many, Brandon and I may not have seemed like the likeliest of pairs.  But, when we play team board games as a pair, we realize God really knew what He was doing when He put us together.        

2 dollars to the first person who can identify the t.v. show the title of this blog is imitating

Shaving off my dreads while spraying the crops

When I moved to Bloomington, I met a new breed of people.  These people, most commonly known as hippies, opened up a whole new world of limited bathing, soap crafts, illegal train trestle hiking, baking with whole wheat flour, and public breast-feeding.  In my heart, I desired to be like these free birds.  When one lives in Bloomington as long as I had, you start believing that the townies can change you into a hippie with their special mind powers.  But as hard as I tried to be something I'm not, it is just too easy to be me.  You can dress me down in a moo-moo, hand me a stick of all-natural mango-scented deodorant, and pierce me with a nose-ring, but at the end of the day I'm still going to go mall-walking, put too many layers of clothes on my son, and eat non-organic food.  Yes, sadly it is true: I am from the suburbs.   
My first epiphany that I indeed could not escape my suburban heritage came about through a baby shower gift I received from my hippie friends from Bloomington.  Yes, I registered for the gift because I thought I could handle being a hippie, but boy was I wrong.  All of my suburbanite friends would laugh as I would struggle to wrap this piece of clothe around my body to become a mommy kangaroo.  I didn't want to register for the more expensive, more diva-esque BABYBJÖRN Baby Carrier Synergy - Black because I thought I was too non-conformist for that carrier.  Now I realize, I'm not a beatnik and I need expensive items because I am actually a diva.  In hindsight, the fact that I even spent time creating a registry at Babies R' Us should have tipped me off to the fact that I'm not a hippie.
My second epiphany occurred when I had this hankering to learn how to play acoustic guitar.  I thought to myself, I'm a musician and I like female acoustic guitar-chic music, so I should have my husband teach me how to play.  That desire lasted about five minutes until my delicate porcelain fingertips started to throb from pressing down onto the strings.  I am from the suburbs and I do not tolerate pain.  Can someone please pass me an epidural?   

My final revelation came about through a ferocious desire to grow a vegetable garden at our new house (picture is of our glorious back yard).  I would day dream about my grand garden overflowing with sweet potatoes and cucumbers.  Once the time came to prepare the land, my husband and I went to the local garden shop to ask questions and get the correct kind of nutrients for the soil.  The season for planting had not yet arrived, but it was a nice enough day to start the ground work.  So when we returned to our home, we began the work immediately.  As I sunk the shovel into the ground, my ferocity quickly turned into feebleness.  I realized that I never had a day dream about dirt, and sweating, and sore backs, and...ew! worms.  Didn't they get the memo?  Bugs are prohibited in the suburbs.  That's why I moved back.  I heart pesticides. 
After years of grasping at the unattainable, I can finally admit to myself that this aspect of myself is never going to change and I should celebrate all the suburban inside of me.  This is who I am and I'm here to stay.  I'm a suburbanite, hear me roar!
 God loves us for who we are.  While He certainly expects us to change our sinful ways once we have been saved by grace, we are made in His image and should celebrate who God has designed us to be.  Do you ever try to be something you're not?  Do you ever have unrealistic expectations of whom you would like to become?  Let me hear about your story.  

Nimrod and Zoe

I went for a jog yesterday. Well, to be honest, I went for a wog. All of my jogging includes walking at some point or another. So, while I was "wogging" @ North Park I gave myself a specific landmark as my goal as to when I would turn around and walk a bit. As I was jogging, Nimrod- inner dialogue #1- popped up, (it likes to chatter on during exercise) and as my legs tired, my landmarks kept changing becoming increasingly closer than originally planned. But then, surprisingly Zoe, my other inner dialogue (who never talks during exercise) showed up and yelled, "hey, if you can't even make it to the swing set, how are you ever going to be able to deliver a child naturally!"

Point taken, Zoe. I made it to my original destination after that kick in the pants. I have so much more work to do though.

Recently, Nimrod and Zoe have been going after each other a lot. I am always going back in forth on decisions that need to be made. How do I shut them off and just make the best decision for God's glory?

In the case of running, it's a no brainer. Whatever voice is telling me to be lazy is the voice to ignore. However, like many decisions in life, good and evil are not so easily distinguished. In fact, sometimes you are choosing between which good is better and then other times you are choosing between presidential candidates.

What always throws me for a tizzy, is what others will say to me or behind my back when I make those decisions. I constantly feel the weight of a non-Christian society's scorn of my decisions. I gave up my career, my freedom, my body, my voice, so that I may love and take care of my husband and son. I still have my pinkie toe holding open the door to all that I gave up. Do I move my toe and let the door shut or do I add arch support?

When I shut out all these extraneous voices, I have the courage to nudge my foot away, but oh how the voices start to flood the room immediately when I do. I am a proud woman. Lord, grant me relief from my sin-deluded mind!

Two years and counting

Do you ever wonder where you will be in two years time? Do you ever catch yourself thinking things like, "in five years I must be a home owner", or, "in fifteen years I will be done having children."
Two years ago, Brandon and I were married. That was a wonderful day. I wonder if I have lived up to the expectation I set before myself those two years ago. Some goals I set for myself then I still remember, because they have not changed. Others, I am sure, have come in and gone from my mind like the tide sifting through the vast array of golden sand.

One goal I set before myself at that time was to still be married two years down the road. By God's goodness and mercy, Brandon and I have successfully and gleefully accomplished this task. God has granted us many of our hearts desires these past two years, more than we are even aware of, and for this we are humbled and grateful.

But, not to spare the rod, God has not given me (nor Brandon) all that we want. May the God of Abraham be praised for His lovingkindness to His children. Another goal of mine two years ago was to continue on into graduate school as to learn more about my singing voice and to be in operas. When I was not cast in a single show this past year, something that I have accomplished previously as a much feebler singer, I was taken aback. I gave just about the best audition of my life and several of the university professors even went out of their way to tell me so. But God is a sovereign God.

I would like to sugar coat the whole story for my dear readers and say that I prayed about it and was able to trust God in a very short period of time. I did pray, but I did not trust. The whole year was like one big smack in the face after another. I didn't get cast and most of my classmates did, so I had to live with that humiliation, since I refused to trust. I didn't get cast but other singers with lesser voices did, again, humiliation. I auditioned for summer program, after summer program, and nobody was interested. "Excuse me, doesn't anybody else hear what I'm hearing?" "I'm good, really, I am." Many tears, many more failed singing endeavors, and then to boot, starting in December, I am getting a cold about once a month, so I am singing on sick cords or not singing at all. Even my recital was hindered by these illnesses.

I would like to now sugar coat this section and say, well, now I realize how I am not trusting God with my voice and everything is all better. The truth is, I think I see more clearly now that I have stepped away from school this summer, but I am still struggling greatly with trusting God with my future in opera. I am still getting colds a lot and my voice is really struggling from that. And I am really confused about what to do.  I don't know what God wants me to do, so I just go back and forth.

All this to say, two years ago I had no clue. I still don't.