For WinterJam

I’d say stay home, heat up some leftovers, and watch NCIS. That is, if you asked me what I’d rather do on a Saturday night than go to a concert.  I don’t hate concerts, it’s just they’re kind of LOUD and EXPENSIVE and CROWDED and AWKWARD and LONG and EXHAUSTING and did I mention LOUD.  Yet I found myself strangely excited about this year’s WinterJam. 

While rocking out with over 15,000 likeminded Jesus lovers with 10 of our favorite bands, I realized why I was oddly attracted to this particular concert: It was the Christian Grammy’s.  Wait...maybe there's some slight differences.

Grammy’s: Once a year at the world-renowned Staples Center.

WinterJam: An exhausting 47 shows in 3 months. A non-stop tour of the Midwest’s finest that winds around every corn field and Applebee’s from Chattanooga to Cincinnati.

Grammy’s: Months of publicity preceding the big event. Media speculation on gowns, plus ones, presenters and winners.

WinterJam: Months of asking our lost friends to come to a life-changing event. Countless prayers for them to be open to what they’ll hear.  Hours of youth pastors handing out fliers, messaging their youth, and talking up the big event.

Grammy’s: The pre-show is a sparkling parade of celebrities walking the red carpet of fame.  Of course, some artists chose to incubate in an egg rather than walk.

WinterJam: The pre-show is David Crowder and Jon Micah of Kutless sacrificing their time to motivate and pray with youth pastors backstage.  (P.S. I was 20 feet from Crowder!)

Grammy’s: The show is a non-stop fusion of awards and performances by rock legends, rap’s record breakers, tween heartthrobs, and Muppets.

WinterJam: The show is, well I can’t even call it a show.  It was a worship experience unlike any other.  Some super famous rock stars praised God for 4 hours and let us join.

Grammy’s: Millions of dollars spent on everything from spectacular sets to wondrous wardrobes.  We can’t forget the thousand dollar gift baskets with all the necessities of a celebrity: Epiphone guitar, Brandina handbags, Delta Private Jets gift vouchers, shampoo and conditioner, yogurt bars, and of course a Mobo Cruiser. Just to mention a few.

WinterJam: $10. Ten Dollars. Diez dolares. 10 bands. 10 dollars. You can’t see anything at the BOK Center for $10. Not to mention 200 people who pledged to sponsor children around the world who are in the process of being adopted.

Millions tuned in to see the glitz of the Grammy’s. So far, over 280,000 have experienced the power of WinterJam this year. The Grammy’s exist to give adulation. WinterJam exists to give Truth. The Grammy’s featured a song titled F*** You and more bleeping than I’ve ever heard on primetime.  WinterJam featured songs that made you raise your hands, fall to your knees, and shake your booty!

I’m not intentionally hating on the Grammy’s. I love awards shows and am semi-obsessed with celebrity fashion gossip.  I love the pomp and theater of it all.  The hugeness of a timeless night like that!

But.

After watching the Grammy’s and then going to WinterJam, I change my vote.  Forget leftovers and another episode of Gibbs playing who-done-it. I choose a concert. And most importantly, I choose one that celebrates artists who believe in Christ-inspired music rather than those who exploit their influence for a trophy.

For Valentime's Day

Single. Dating. Engaged. Married. Whether recently heartbroken or crushing from afar.  No matter if I was mistakenly madly in love or for real head over heels.

I’ve always loved Valentine’s Day.

But the one that I’ll never forget was two blissful years ago. Long before AJ was a wink in my match.com inbox, I had made Vday plans with some girlfriends. In an effort to not wallow away in our singleness, we were going to celebrate together over lunch.

February 12^th changed all that.

After our first date, AJ and I knew we had to see each other again. Immediately! We were able to spend a few wonderful hours together Friday; however, Saturday was his last day in town before returning to Texas.  We made some vague plans for that night, but that night wasn’t soon enough. At the girl’s lunch rather than giving my women’s liberation speech as planned, I spent every spare second texting him.  We agreed the minute I was done with lunch, we’d reattach the superglue holding us together. 

Both of us stuffed from big meals, we opted for walking the mall.  The romantical boy got me a balloon flower and then took me to Cheesecake Factory for some desserts to go.  The overly crowded lobby sent AJ into action. While we waited in line, he called in our order and it was ready right away.  Just another entry on my mental list of everything I was falling in love with about this man.

We like food. And we like to talk. And by this point we like just staring into each other’s eyes.  So we stopped as sonic for some tater tots and eye gazing. Followed by cheesecake and eye gazing on the couch at my parents’ house.  Valentine’s Day was coming to an end and we both avoided looking at the clock hanging above us.  But we had some unfinished business.  After all, who drives 5 hours to go on 3 dates on Valentine’s weekend...and doesn’t get a kiss? 

As I recall, fireworks exploded.  Angels sang.   And I think Mom and Dad let out a relieved “Finally.”  My last first kiss.

Two years later, there is still plenty of eye gazing, eating, and kissing.  And a very special happy food dance for an indescribably irreplaceable Valentime. 

Wedding Wednesday: For the Fairy Godmothers

Their  business card should say WEDDING FAIRY GODMOTHERS. They may be planner, coordinator, and florist in name, but they truly make your every wedding dream come true! These wonderful women glided around the church and created beauty as if from a single touch. Their magic wand transformed an empty sanctuary into an overwhelming array of candlelight and flowers. A buffet of fajitas and desserts magically became an exotic lineup of citrusy fruits and elegant delicacies. Where I saw a troublesome—and immovable—welcome counter, they saw bright, welcoming arrangements, scattered petals, and more candles of course!

Most importantly, rather than seeing just a wedding planner, I saw my Aunt Barbara, Aunt Trenna, and friend Mitzi!  These miracle workers put in countless hours to reach absolute perfection.  Oh, what applause I could continue to give, especially in how they took my vague ideas, my last minute worries, and my overall idea and made it come to life!  I'll give you just a glimpse into how my e-mails, voicemails, and texts were transformed into my dreams.

"Aunt Barbara, Dad says we can't move the massive Welcome counter. Can we spruce it up somehow?" Yes they can! I think it was Trenna and Mitzi who handled this little pet peeve.

"Aunt Barbara, for your centerpiece count, it looks like we'll have about 40 tables"

"Make that 50 tables."  No problem.

"Do you have enough candles for the whole stage?" Affirmative.

"We can put candles on the center pillars? Great! I'll just warn AJ and Rev Kev not to make any sudden movements!" Thank you Mitzi for risking injury to get those lit!

"So, looks like we need about 150 more chair covers. Thanks!"

"Well, no I don't have anything to put on the dessert tables. Do you?" Of course they did.

"Mom is allergic to flowers so I don't want them everywhere. What else could we use?" Ferns! Of course!

"Aunt Barbara, it's me again. I think we'll need another 100 chair covers..."

"I hate fellowship halls that look like...well...fellowship halls. But how can we make it a little fancier?" Lemons! Limes! Lovely!

"Ugh! Our cake is wonderful but maybe needs some color. Do you have any extra flowers?" Yes! Yummy!

"I think we need 3 guest book tables. At this point I don't care what you do. I'm getting married!" In their capable hands, I didn't worry a bit!

"I'm thinking Red...orange...big folded leaves...feathers...pearls..." Ahhh, Perfect.

 I don't have to say anymore. Except thank you! Thank you! Thank you! To my wedding fair godmothers, I'll never be able to tell the story of our wedding without a huge nod to you.

For the Human Defibrillators

Cancer sucks.

Its long-reaching arm slithered into my life in 2007 by way of a lump in my mother’s breast. I was notified by e-mail, the easiest way to communicate from America to West Africa.  Mom was very succinct in her wording and emphasized that I didn’t need to worry, we’d beat this.  After crying, yelling, and utilizing the throw function of my throw pillows, I went numb and went to bed.

The following morning I met with my fellow teachers for our daily prayer time.  They had been in prayer for Mom and inquired about the biopsy. I wanted to lie. Instead I cried. They began covering me in prayer and continued even past when the bell was supposed to ring.

I was brought back to this memorable morning a couple of weeks ago. In God’s sovereignty, I was at school when I found out the biopsy of Mom’s lymph nodes revealed cancer. E-mail wasn’t necessary since she teaches just 100 feet away.  Immediately as news spread, our teachers mobilized into an army of hugs and help. The following days proved to be nothing less than an unbelievable downpour of support. 

What is it about teachers? In what other profession will you find the most kind and compassionate friends? Their words constantly encourage. Their humor always hits the spot. Their generous gifts fill you up.  Their prayers are felt from your pre-dawn stirrings until you cry yourself to sleep at night. God uses them as the human defibrillators that shock your heart back to life when you’re paralyzed with fear.

How I thank God for the many groups of people He’s placed in my life to care for my family!  From our many church groups and extended family to friends across the world! And I promise to dedicate posts to all they've done too. But today’s Happy Food Dance is for my teacher family, without whom I’d have one less leg to stand on.

Wedding Wednesday: For the Photographer

Awesome. Incredible. Amazing. Perfect. Crazy good. Just my sorry attempt at describing our wedding photographer.  She far exceeds any adjective you give her. She finds beauty where you don’t expect. She works harder than you pay her.  And she kicks the butt of any wedding photographer you had.

This week’s Wedding Wednesday tribute is to Ashley Hopper of Ashley Hopper Photography.  Stats on Ashley -- Husband: RobB who rocks the construction world, the drums, and the Carrie Underwood prayers. Step-children: Bobby and Haley who are blessed further than their teenage minds can comprehend to have her.  Occupation: Librarian extraordinaire who dabbled in Reading instruction and moonlit as a drycleaner among other things. Extended Family: Don’t even get her started. They’re equally awesome and super cute and creative and generous and I need to get back on topic.

I could make a laundry list of all of her accolades. I could tell endless stories about how she’s listened to my ramblings and saved the day for so many of her colleagues. Or I could just show you why she’s my first pick for a Wedding Wednesday* tribute.  Her work speaks for itself.

Random Collinsville site plus random look equals fun picture!

"Ashley, can I jump off of this?" "Sure." 

LOVE a photographer who lets the Bride do what she wants!

Her time is very valuable, but there's always time for diving through dumpsters for a trophy shot!

And I'm forever in her debt for this timeless picture. Money can't buy that.

Our engagement session was incredibly memorable thanks to Ashley and her hidden Downtown spots!

When you think she's not taking pictures...well, she is.

The Day Of, she was there from start to finish. Because everyone needs a record of gigantic curlers and smiles.

Letting us be us. I'm glad she already knew us.

NO IDEA this was going on while I was applying my fifth coat of lipstick. But a tribute to this lady coming soon.

One of my favorite pictures of my favorite people. Perfect timing.

She must have a photographer's sixth sense to know when to catch moments like this.

She even follows you into the bathroom with your miracle alterations worker.

 A million thank you's to Ashley Hopper for every memorable moment you preserved.

*I know it's not Wednesday. But my sense of time is buried in 2 feet of snow.

For Snow Days

I unashamedly spent 12 hours on my couch today. Cause of laziness: a mixture of endless streaming Netflix, over 100 unwritten wedding thank you’s, and a very cuddly couch buddy. Oh, and 21 inches of snow. 

The record-setting Feblizzard of 2011 has been a whirlwind of excitement around the otherwise dull Northeastern Oklahoma.  Constant facebook updates have given me plenty of chances to interrupt AJ’s video gaming and share bits of nudgeworthy news. Thirty cars are stranded on 169! The police are only using 4X4’s! The Hard Rock roof fell in! Our mailbox just disappeared! 

In the midst of keeping up with all the snow drama, I did manage to be mildly productive...if you consider it productive to reheat coneys and solve several puzzles on Wheel of Fortune Teacher’s Week.

Since a second snow day is guaranteed for tomorrow, I think it’d be a good idea to list my Top 10 Must Do’s for Wednesday:

1. Deep clean the kitchen...or check facebook, e-mails, and the gnomes in the backyard
2. Address over 100 wedding thank you’s...or do some etsy window shopping
3. Organize the pile of clothes in my closet...or watch a season of Say Yes to the Dress
4. Reheat leftovers for lunch, eat birthday cake
5. Clean the bathrooms...or do Sunday’s crossword
6. Zumba on the Kinect...definitely HAVE to do this...no or’s
7. Clean the guest room...or paint my nails
8. Snuggle with AJ
9. Grade 3^rd hour’s The Giver packets...or watch Dr. Oz, Dr. Phil, Oprah, and Jeopardy
10.  Re-evaulate the day’s goals

Ahh, looking forward to a very productive snow Wednesday.

Starting Somewhere

I don’t know what this blog will be about. But I do know what it will not be about.

It won’t be about my 4 darling—but fictitious—children. No heartwarming stories of the things they say like “Did you e-mail Santa about my Buzz underpanties?” No recaps of the adorable things they do like making syrup-egg-cereal creations for breakfast. Any cute kid stories will be of the nephew variety. Check back in 4-5 years for a mom blog.

It won’t be about my adventures in an exotic foreign country you’ve never heard

of. Sure, it was more entertaining to read about my eating roasted goat in the Sahara desert. But in his infinite wisdom, God replaced my toilet-swimming geckos with husband, house, and a new kind of happiness!

It won’t be about my club-bouncing crazy-dancing cosmo-drinking manolo-wearing sex-and-the-city life. My small town boasts an Olive Garden and Dress Barn. Rumor says a Sam’s is on the way.

It won’t be hysterical—wit is Husband's department. Or deeply theological—Christian higher ed and being a youth pastor’s wife doesn’t make me an expert. Or predictable—this might, in fact, be the only post as I have a way of not finishing what I start.

While I’m still not sure what will come of this, I do know that today I did a happy food dance for having a chance to write something! Hopefully it’s just the beginning.