Weekend Whims and FLASH MOB!

TODAY I PARTICIPATED IN MY FIRST FLASH MOB!  I say "first" because I'm already planning a second one!  Here is an initial picture.  See below for details about the flash mob...

With the MJ impersonator after the dance.  Scroll down to see which song we all danced to...

But first... WEEKEND WHIMS! 
     So last night Daniel and I decided to start a weekend tradition called our "weekend whims". He suggested that every weekend we put 3-4 things on a notecard and complete them by the end of the weekend.  Although we have a "to-do" notecard as well, our weekend whims are essentially the antithesis of our to-do list. This weekend our tasks were as follows:
1. Kiss every time we see someone holding hands.
2. Dance together whenever we hear a Beatles song (I personally don't think that should be limited to a weekend whim)
3. Each person take a picture of something that reminds us of the other person (he took a picture of the word "special" at the restaurant, I took one of a store sign that said "you know you got the best deal" :))

     Since tomorrow I'll be willingly trapping myself in my house, snuggling up to my DSM IV in light of the upcoming diagnosis midterm, we needed to do all these tasks today and I'm proud to announce that we did!!  First installment of Weekend Whims was a success!

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     Now onto a quick weekend update.  My weekend officially began on Thursday and Dan returned home from a trip around 5 pm so Thursday evening we had a nice dinner at Maggianos.  After dinner, we relaxed and I was able to have a much needed phone conversation with one of my best friends. We decided that a trip to visit her in Pennsylvania is happening sometime this summer and I'm beyond excited about it.  She is truly a beautiful example of friendship to me in so many ways.  More on that in a later post.
     Friday I took a yoga class and had a quick lunch with a new friend.  Then I had to return back home for a mini study session and later to cook dinner for Daniel.
     Cooking has become a little more challenging because ever since I have been on medication for the pericarditis, I've had to cut wheat and dairy out of my diet (for the most part) because the medicine makes my stomach extra sensitive.  So Friday night for dinner we had some tuna salad,  hummus, corn chips and asparagus.  I even managed to make a gluten and dairy free substitute for Rice Krispie treats.  I will post the ingredients to that in an upcoming blog on gluten/dairy free living.
     After dinner we relaxed and drank some champagne from a friends wedding (fancy wedding favor!) and I set up a plate of strawberries and gluten/dairy free dark chocolate to make it quite the dessert.  It was delicious!!

Love strawberries and champagne!

     This morning I woke up to Daniel asking if he could cook me breakfast. Apparently I'm not a morning person because my response was "It's not like I can eat anything other than chicken sausage or turkey bacon" (referring to the fact that gluten or dairy is in almost every breakfast food). When I went to grab the chicken sausage out of the drawer, I saw Daniel left a little note for me right on the meat drawer. It made my morning :)

Inspiration to keep eating gluten/dairy free...

     After breakfast we took Sage for a walk to Adams house and the guys talked while I laid out and studied at the pool. We returned and made a quick stop to care for our brother and sisters dog Roxi and then it was to Atlantic Station to take part in my first ever FLASH MOB!!!  
     It's always been a dream of mine to take part in a flash mob, but I've never had the opportunity until now.  I found out about it on a Thursday night, learned the dance quickly on Friday and on Saturday, I set out to officially surprise the people around me with spontaneous dancing.  
     The dance was to Michael Jackson's song "Beat It" and it was pretty simple.  When we arrived at Atlantic Station, we walked toward the location where the flash mob was going to be and we noticed quite a few people already gathering around the area.  The fun thing about it was that we had no idea who was taking part in the flash mob and who were unsuspecting Atlantic Station visitors.  As the cue came, we saw some people join in and I looked around like I was confused before throwing my purse to Daniel, jumping into the group and finishing up the Beat It song with them.  It was really fun and somewhat strange.  There were ALL kinds of people doing it (around 150 people) so that added to the fun factor and to the "odd" factor as well.  It was overall a very interesting experience and I'm glad I did it.  

A quick shot of us

     Daniel was set to film it on his phone but apparently it froze because when we went back to review it, it wasn't saved.  Luckily, we ran into a few friends of his and they may have it on video.  I'll add a video to the post if they send us one (and if it's not excessively embarrassing ;)).
     After the flash mob, we had dinner at Figo with a friend of ours named John.  It was really great to catch up with him and I found out Figo has gluten free pasta!  It was really good, although I did eat a four-cheese sauce on top of it :) 
     Now Daniel is out with the guys at an Improv show (his chance to jump into dance, or song, or whatever else they try to get the audience to do) and I'm about to try and read a few chapters in the DSM-IV before bed and a long study day tomorrow.
     Overall, it was a great weekend and I have no more excuses now to put off studying... Here I come DSM-IV! 

"I do not understand the mystery of grace- only that it meets us where we are, but does not leave us where it found us" ~ Lamott

evening walk

Saturday evening walk location...

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

Updated Blog Posts

So I tried using tumblr for the longest time because I love how I can upload things straight from my phone, but I've had some problems creating longer posts with pictures in the middle of the post so alas, it's back to blogger.com!  I uploaded all my previous posts from my tumblr page tonight to keep things up-to-date so don't think I've had a manic episode when you see 20 posts in one night. :)

I've realized that as I've grown older, I have a more difficult time remembering the events of my day-to-day life.  Recently I've been learning more about the power of story, and how God invites us to live out the unique story He's given us.  I want this blog to be a simple representation of the intricate pieces of my unique story.  From the simple day-to-day activities to the life-changing events that appear to be more "noteworthy", they are all pieces that can be braided together to provide perspective and meaning about the process of seeking to live a truly intentional life.  I know almost everyone and their dog has a blog now, so I don't have any reader goals or expectations in that regard.  My hope is that this will be a place to simply document the details of this beautiful life we've been given and celebrate the moment.

Praying for the grace to just be...

essence

"If I could put the essence of you into a bouquet, this would be it" -Daniel

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

lovin lilies

Lilies from Opa's garden now growing in ours :)

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

~Put a little PLAY in your day~

So the other day my husband and I had two $10 gift certificates for Cafe Intermezzo and it appeared to be the perfect lunch spot. There was only one problem: they only accept one per table. Not willing to give up our craving for their incredible spicy cheese tortellini, I suggested we simply eat at different tables. However, there was a catch: I proposed that we had to pretend we didn't know each other and we were trying to "pick each other up". And so we did...

What I learned: although we have only been married a year, my husband and I have SIGNIFICANTLY reduced our "game". From asking what dish I was eating because "it looks good and I'll have to try it next time" (him) to eyeing him coyly with drink in hand (unfortunately, that one was me), I couldn't help but laugh as we tried to figure out the ensuing awkward conversation that followed (me, as his credit card was being returned, "Wow! We have the same last name! That could make this complicated. Who is YOUR dad?" Dan, continually calling me ma'am, and asking if I was single as I tried to subtly remove my wedding ring that was clearly displayed on my left hand). The best part was finding a way for us to leave together (turns out I asked for a ride and he agreed only if he could take me back again on a later date because my tortellini suggestion was oh-so- good :)). 

The point is, it was fun. And it reminded us that life is too short to stay stagnant in the roles we've developed over the years...even if it's a little ridiculous. :)

Beloved

A message from God to me (and you). I asked Him for His thoughts and He provided the words as I wrote...

Beloved 


I asked God what He thought about me and the things I am going through right now and this is what He showed me (I just started writing and He provided the words)...

Beloved,

Listen to your name and claim it. Be Loved. Accept it. Neither height nor depth, neither angels nor demons, neither the present or the future (no circumstance, no feelings < or lack thereof > , no human rejection, no human acceptance, NOTHING) in all creation can separate you from my love. 

Drink it up. Bathe in it. Let it wash away all insecurities, all fears, all confusion. *My plan for you is peace* 

Storms raging, emotions crashing against the jutting rocks of sin and the world, yet I call you to rest. Sleep my child, and when awakened by the cries of those around you, steady yourself in Me, and command everything else to bow down. I am in control.

~~There is no rush. *My schedule is built on eternity* The most seemingly "out-of-place" events are all appointments, placed before you in perfect order. But you must lay your life schedule aside to truly live them.

You will ache. You will wonder. You will dance and weep and laugh at the details of life. **Rejoice in every moment** You are living. *Let your heart be alive*

I created you as a human being. Just be. Answers will come-- most often through the process of living. And through it, we share these moments. 

~~I don't want you to be smart, or wise in your own eyes, or the perfect evangelist, friend, girlfriend, wife, student. I just want...you. Let me love you.

~~Comparison pains me. You are my masterpiece. I do not make mistakes. I detailed you as a present to myself and for others ~accept the gift and give it freely. 

~~You have experienced my love and want to give it to others. You want to selflessly love and draw others into my arms. You are doing just that--even now. Just keep planting. I will make them grow. 

<3 oh and him <3 ~~ *him* ~~ (whoever he turns out to be ), he's being prepared just as you are and in my perfect timing you will be free to love as you desire~ with all abandonment, freedom, and peace. Give me time my child. Don't rush. Wait. The longing is good. Do not despise it. But realize that "wait" is a promise, not a disappointment. **You do not know what to do with all your love right now. Let me show you.**

~~I will reveal myself to you. Your heart is for me. I delight in every desire you have for me. My heart bursts with delight over you. And it's an extravagant romance. *You are deeply loved.* Always. 

Strip Clubs and Grace

Written in 2006- the beginning of something new came from these simple words...

The physical darkness seemed bright in comparison to the thick cloud of oppression I felt when entering the strip club last Thursday. I’d felt it before, but I pray that it will never cease to alarm me… that I will never become numb to the pain and distorted love that occurs here. My friend Sarah (I changed her name) is both a source of this pain and a recipient. She has been dancing there for almost 7 years. 
Walking into the club, my focus was simply on her-- to visit her. We usually hang out at restaurants and the pool if it’s summertime, but every once in awhile, when God leads, I go visit her at work. In public settings, we usually talk about her dogs, her family, her girlfriend, and sometimes God, but tonight, as I walked in, she was silently speaking something different: 
“Desire me” – her eyes dared, as she danced on the stage.
Only the girl on stage wasn’t her. She was hidden somewhere in the corner, hating the job, wanting to be who she really is—a deep, passionate person with an incredible heart for authenticity and love. But her alter ego took the stage—and danced. 
I really didn’t want her to see me from the stage. I didn’t want us to make eye contact. For me personally, in my place of sin, it’s incredibly hard to let people in, especially those who tear at my conscience. So I traveled to the corner of the room and sat on a chair, trying to block out the naked girls staring at me from the posters on the wall yet asking God to give me a deep sense of how they really feel. I need to feel their brokenness. Maybe if I can experience it I can pray them towards healing. Someone needs to feel it: they seem to be numb. 
After a song or two, a young man comes over to me and asks me if I need anything. “Want a drink?” he asks. I politely decline and move towards the back entrance into the owners office. I know the owner. He tells me he looks forward to my visits—the few times I come in consist of both talking with him and praying for him. 

He’s quite an interesting man. He knows what’s right and wrong yet he chooses the latter almost every time. 
His dads a Baptist preacher- He’s the prodigal son. 

I wait by the door and inquire as to where he is. The bartender says he’s not working tonight. Looks like I won’t be praying tonight—I reason. 

God had other plans. 

As I sat there waiting for Sarah to be done on stage, I am drawn to the same young man who approached me earlier. I strike up a conversation and he tells me about his family. I discover a similarity: preacher’s kids seem to flock together…and, in this case, directly to the strip club. David and I talk some about life in general, and then the subject turns to faith. He tells me about his Christian values and how he knows he will eventually stand in judgment for what he does. He tries not to think about it but reasons, “we’ll just wait and see what happens then”, he says. 
That’s a risky way to live, and we talk about that fact, but he doesn’t seem to understand it. The phrase, “Deception wears a pretty face” – keeps resonating in my mind like a broken record as I press on in our conversation. He opens up.
“The reason why I do a lot of this stuff is because a lot of bad things have happened to me,” he assures me, as if I had already placed a huge stamp on him that said “Hopeless son of satan”. 
“I understand,” I tell him. And I really do. 
And we talk about his sickness, how it ruins his intestines and the surgeries he’s had. It’s so sad that God gets a bad rep when it comes to sickness. 
I remind him, “You know that sickness is not from God right? It’s from satan.” 
He agrees. The conversation lulls and I proceed to do what I always do when this happens: offer prayer. 
We walk to the corner of the strip club and he places his hands out…palms up. He is in full prayer posture now. I grab them and pray. Pray for healing, pray for God’s purpose to be made known. Pray for conviction. Pray for love. 
He thanks me and I head to see Sarah. She’s off the stage now and chatting with the same young man who was placing dollar bills in her g-string a few moments earlier. She hugs me and proceeds with their conversation, only now I am included. 
Sarah is intense. She thinks deeply and profoundly. Tonight she has props to explain the inner workings of her mind. The Budweiser bottle sitting straight up in front of the customer/man, the thick deep line in the wood of the stage that separated the Budweiser from her third prop and drink of choice: jagged, sharp vodka. She begins to speak boldly and in slight slurs, only she isn’t drunk, but contemplative. 
“You know what the problem is Julie?” she asks.
“What’s that, “ I say. 
At this point I know that the problem is most likely much deeper than what she is about to say. Then again, she never fails to surprise me. 
“Everyone thinks I’m the Budweiser,” she slantedly says. “All nice and pretty and wrapped up.” 
I look at the bottle. It may be packaged nicely but I am not deceived. 
“They all think I’m the Budweiser, but really,” she leans in close, even though her voice carries well over the loud wailings of Nelly Furtado singing “Promiscuous girl” through the speakers. 
“Really…I’m not the Budweiser,” she says. She points to her drink-- “I’m the vodka.” 
“Really?” I ask.
“Yea,” she says. “I’m a big swirling mess. A huge mess of intensity and all sharp and crazy --mixed together in a huge bitter shot.” 

Cool analogy, I think. 

Snapping me back to reality she says, ”The problem is…” (she points directly at the line) “This.” 
“It’s that damn line,” she says. “The line between who people think I’m supposed to be and who I really am.” 

I glance at the line. Then up at the man who is staring blankly at us both. Then at Sarah. I lean in real close to her as if this is the biggest secret in the world and say, “Guess what?” 
Her expression softens and her ears perk up. She’s listening. 

“We’re all the vodka,” I whisper. 

She looks at me slightly confused, then I can see her slowly beginning to grasp this concept. Her face changes piece by piece, as if the blinds of understanding were slowly being opened on her beautiful face shade by shade. 
“We all have our stuff Sarah,” I tell her. 
She agrees. 
“We’re all a swirling mess of craziness in some way. Some people hide it better than others, but we’re broken people.” 
She seems slightly comforted by this fact and I proceed and ask her if anyone knows she’s the vodka. Is it possible for her to tell anyone about this swirling mess inside her?
“Oh no!” she exclaims, as if I had just asked her to sell one of her legs and poke out an eye. “No one can know that because then they’ll run away. I have to keep it all bottled up nicely in the Budweiser bottle. That way no one knows who I really am.”

I’m both unexplainably hurt and incredibly excited to hear this. She has come to a slight understanding of her own brokenness. And in my vulnerability I am hoping she sees that she is not the only one broken. 
We all may as well be poster children for the human condition. But the real secret in knowing our brokenness is nothing unless we have a full understanding of the Healer. So I lean in close again, this time she’s ready to hear, and I whisper. “I have a secret to tell you, Sarah.” 
She seems to like this game of secret-and-tell, and I continue in all sincerity. 

“God knows we’re the vodka,” I say. “And He totally accepts us and loves us with all our messiness.” 

She softens. Then quickly hardens back up. 'Keep up the stage persona', I can just imagine her telling herself. But she’s not on stage at this particular moment and she’s not totally hardened. She still cares and she still loves. 
She proceeds to tell me about the last time she prayed, and how afterwards she did the opposite of what she knew she was supposed to do. She seems frustrated and she starts pounding the table, as if beating her fist against the wood will somehow equate to punishing herself for her sins. I interrupt and simply say, “You can’t save yourself.” Over and over. I think she already knew that but hearing it out loud seemed to be cathartic to her. I myself never tire of hearing it. I need to hear it. And know it and believe it. 
*He saves me from myself.*

It was a profound moment, but the nature of a moment is that it passes, and it did. I just hope it left something significant we can return to in the secret contemplative times. 
As I was finishing up our conversation, my friend Ashley comes in and starts something completely brand new. After small talking for a while, Ashley informs me that she really feels like she needs to pray for Sarah. She’s thinking she should pray for shame to be broken off of her. 
I've learned that the nature of shame is a tricky thing. It leaves you in a moment long after that moment has passed. It suddenly defines you not by WHO you are but rather by WHAT you DO or what you have done. And it never lets you move forward. Ever. 
Right before we lay our hands on Sarah, another dancer walks by. From her view, she sees her co-worker in this hallway talking to two strangers intensely and begins to mock, “Sarah, are you in trouble?” She points her finger and jokes “shame, shame, shame”. And from that place we now know what to pray in all confidence… and so we do.

Ashley’s voice is soothing, but powerful. I open my eyes during the middle of the prayer and glance at Sarah. Her eyes are closed. She is not in a faraway place. She is present. She is soaking in the prayer. She is soaking in the love that God is pouring out on her. She is emptied out and real and not defined by the skimpy material covering three small spots on her body or the sharp, pointed heels laced up her legs. 
She is fully herself and she is beautiful. 

Holding on and Letting Go...

(written about 1 month after we got married)

People keep labeling me.  According to my financial institution, my drivers license, my co-workers and what seems to be the entire free world, I am now in this whole new category called:  ‘married’ person.  Suddenly, the parts of my identity that were so present as a single adult feel as if they are repeatedly slipping through my fingers. 

As I changed my name on my account today at the bank, the sweet lady behind the counter asked about my wedding date.  ”Oh you’re a NEWLY NEWLYwed,” she said, with a spark of mischeif in her glass-covered eyes.  

A few hours later, I was planning a girls night on the phone while taking a solitary walk, and I was met with a slew of comments about how I am now one of the ‘married girls’.  

Walking back around the block, I began to think about all the things that I have been holding onto in the past month.  It started when the Pastor asked how we wanted to be introduced.  ”Mr. AND Mrs. Homrich!”  I replied, with excitement at the thought of now being joined by a conjunction when being introduced. :)

 ”How about Mr. and Mrs. Daniel Homrich?”  he asked.

The question seemed simple but I had to stop and think…

I would’ve liked to say I was immediately okay with my first AND last name now being molded into my soon-to-be husband, but as the overwhelming majority agreed that this was the proper introduction, I felt as if I was letting go of yet another piece of my valued independence.  

Thankfully, in many ways, my husband is one of the most confident men in the world, and his consistent understanding of this area has been one of the most freeing things in our dating life and now into our marriage.  Being a bit of an ‘individual’ himself, we have consistently been amazed at how much we actually WANT to let go of ourselves in order to develop the oneness we were created to experience in marriage.  It is truly a gift from God and it unfolds every day with perfect timing and grace.

In many ways, through this process, we are slowly becoming even more of the INDIVIDUALS God created each of us to be.  It’s happening organically as we learn to let go of our independence and come together as two people submitted to each other and Christ.  I truly believe that it is a beautiful picture of how, as we surrender our independence to the Lord, He somehow makes us into a greater and more glorious version of ourselves— the person He created us to be all along. 

That person, for me, has been developed through a refining process that I am learning to gratefully accept.  This last week has been especially revealing. Almost every night, I’ve had a dream about the past. When I sleep I am met with images that combine elements of who I was or the relationships I had with others throughout the former years of my life.

 As I prayed over these dreams, God began to reveal all of the things I’ve been holding onto— my need to be ‘in control’, my strange desire to take current worrisome attributes of my friends and family and paint a picture of the future with imaginary scenarios, and my desire to ‘fix’ (which, by the way, may work on things but people must be loved and prayed into change, not hammered into it).  

In the midst of my fears for the future I stopped and looked around.   It was then that I suddenly realized: God isn’t in MY imaginary future.  He’s here.  He’s in this moment. He is the I AM.   And He’s showing me how to let go of all the things I have been holding onto that take away from the true intimacy He provides through His presence and unity with my husband.

———-

Last night at 4 am, I woke up short of breath.  I had one of the worst nightmares I’ve ever had and I was scared to the core.  As I lay in bed praying, I debated on whether to wake up my husband.  I started out by gently touching his arm— ‘Maybe he’ll notice it, wake up and think I just rubbed against him on accident and THEN I can tell him what happened’, I thought, trying to figure out ways to ask for help without feeling like an inconvenience.  He didn’t move, so I slowly began to shake his arm.  He sleepily asked ‘What’s wrong?’ and I managed to whisper eight words.

 I   had  a  nightmare.  Please   pray   for   me.  

He leaned over and began to pray a prayer that was deep and profound and spoke straight to my spirit.  After saying ‘Amen,” he promptly leaned back over and fell straight asleep.  

This morning as I woke up, I was greeted with a kiss on the forehead.

 ”I was just here praying for you,” he said.

 I let go of the body pillow I had been grasping so tightly and gave him a hug.  There was something so genuine, so pure and so powerful about his presence at that moment, I felt myself letting go of my need to prove I was separate or that I could do ‘life’ on my own.  I found myself truly trusting this man, this person God had set apart for me. The very man He woke up early to pray for me.  I was letting go of myself and holding onto the most important person in my life as I prayed silently in those sleepy moments.

Leaning over to steal one more long hug, I found myself living and breathing an echo of Audrey Hepburns famous words, “The only thing we need to hold onto in life… is each other.”

Love. Life.

Somewhere each day we have to fall in love, with someone, something, some moment, event, phrase, word, or sight. Somehow each day we must allow the softening of the heart. Otherwise our hearts will move inevitably toward hardness. We will slowly become cynical without even knowing it—that’s where too much of the world is trapped.” - Richard Rohr

Song for last season...

Song for this season

And I took you by the hand
And we stood tall,
And remembered our own land,
What we lived for.

And there will come a time, you’ll see, with no more
tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your
fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.

After the Storm Video