"Girl Got it Goin' On"

I had it together today. From my carefully planned outfit (what a rarity that is!) to my productive and prompt dealings at the office, I thought to myself several times, "Not bad, chica, not bad."

A side note, a sweet text from a friend with encouraging words was just what I needed to start the day off right:

"I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may rule in your heart through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to KNOW this love that surpasses knowledge - that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God."

Dear God, we're starting this one out right. I am going to nail it today.

I blared my Christian radio, sang earnestly at the top of my lungs and said an extra prayer of thanksgiving for the sunshine, blue sky, melting snow and the stop lights changing in my favor.

I arrived at the office earlier than normal, got my coffee fix and settled in to a productive, upbeat day. I smiled in triumph as I walked out the door at closing time, turned off the phones, flipped the lights and glanced down at my still spotless new white pants. "Alright now lady, this is what I'm talking about," I proudly proclaimed to self as I bounded down the halls and out the door.

Even the parking attendants seemed to sense this was my day. I smiled knowingly at Brian as I hopped into my car which had been conveniently moved to the very first spot. Prime real estate, indeed.

At home, here was the real test. Dare I tempt fate and try my hand at an intriguing s'more bread pudding recipe? The self answered in the affirmative, and I boldly plunged into the project, still donning the still spotless white pants, albeit protectively covered in my chili-pepper cooking apron.

With what other result could I meet than success? Scrumptious, gooey, rich success which met with approval from the lucky consumers thereof. "Oh that? Just a little something I whipped up on a whim. No big deal really."

And so I sat down to thank God for this fabulous day--- I owed him that much for his endorsement of my endeavors. "Well done, good and faithful one," I volunteered for the Man. After all, didn't I deserve this simple, sweet and satisfyingly perfect day, as spotless as my still perfectly white pants?

"Girl got it goin' on," I mused smugly, stretching and running my hands through my perfectly tousled curls, still bouncing and behaving after the long day. I was prepared to conquer this blog, to pour out all my morsels of wisdom upon the keys and subsequently, the wider web.

And that's about the time my fingers stuck in the ooey-gooey mess of marshmallow tangled up in my bouncing and behaving hair, now gnarled, laden with the remains of my bread pudding concoction. Shock, horror, indignation--- how could this be?! A burst to my bulging bubble, a kink in my perfect day, and literally in my dark locks!

That's about the time He caught me, and the lights came on. So, I laughed along with God, breathed a prayer of forgiveness, and thanked him all the more for the levity. For whenever I've kept my pants pure white, there's sure to be a bit of goo in my hair, dirt under my nails, or a run in my hose. Do you follow?

Yes, pride comes before a fall.

***Below is the bread pudding recipe from recipezaar.com, submitted by Sweet D and originally printed in Good Housekeeping. It was truly AMAZING. I added my changes in parentheses.***

S'mores Bread Pudding

55 min / 15 min prep

Serves 9

- 4 hot dog buns (or any white bread), cut in 1-inch pieces

-4 eggs (I used the Safeway brand egg substitute)

-1 (14 ounce can sweetened condensed milk)

-3/4 cup milk

-1 teaspoon vanilla

-1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg

-1 cup miniature marshmallow

-3/4 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips /chunks (I substituted Ghirardelli Milk Chocolate Chips)

-5 graham cracker squares, crushed, about 1/2 cup (I opted for 1/2 cup of crushed Honey Nut Cheerios)

- 2 tablespoons milk

DIRECTIONS:

1. Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Grease a 2-qt square baking dish; set aside. Place bun pieces on shallow baking sheet. Bake 7-8 minutes or until dry and crisp; cool.

2. In medium bowl lightly beat eggs. Stir in sweetened condensed milk, 3/4 cup milk, vanilla, and nutmeg; set aside.

3. Place bun pieces in prepared baking dish. Sprinkle with 1/2 cup each of marshmallows and chocolate chips. Evenly pour milk mixture over all. Let stand 5 minutes. Sprinkle with crushed graham crackers. Bake, uncovered, for 35 minutes. Sprinkle with 1/4 cup of remaining marshmallows. Bake about 5 minutes more or until knife inserted near center comes out clean.

4. For drizzle, in a small saucepan heat and whisk remaining marshmallows, remaining chocolate chips, and 2 tbsp milk over low heat until melted and smooth. Drizzle over bread pudding. Cool 20 to 30 minutes before serving. Serve warm.

Looking Outward

Here's the latest little nugget of life-wisdom I'm pondering: Looking inward is rarely so rewarding as looking outward.

Shocking, but I'm something of an over-analyzing fool, and I've always been a deep-thinker. These traits manifest themselves as oblivion or absent-mindedness, much to either the chagrin or the amusement of those around me. As a child, I'd sit on the beach looking wistfully into the waves pretending to be The Little Mermaid or lose myself for hours creating my own little stories and dramas in Barbie dolls or characters of my own imagination. As an adult, I constantly reflect, spiritualize and even worry about my purpose, calling, career and relationships in an effort to better understand myself and others and strive for improvement. And I still find myself daydreaming.

But whether daydreaming or engaging in earnest reflection or engulfed in my own silly nonproblems, sometimes I just need to get outside of myself. For sanity's sake. For humility's sake. For reality's sake. You know those people who seem to be social--- the friendly fun ones who seem to be outgoing and interested in others? They seem like nice people until you realize every conversation is ALL ABOUT THEM? You tend to start avoiding them. I think I usually catch myself in time, but I've definitely been guilty.

God is so good. Sometimes he grabs my attention by reminding me of my dependence on his grace flowing straight from heaven, but more often through the fingertips of others here on Earth. As he did on Saturday when I was at the mercy of the valet and the kind soul at the bank who opened after hours to help a damsel in distress. Or allowing me to appreciate the talents of an elevator-car musician. Girl-time over a bag of Ghirardelli milk chocolate chips that transitions from facebook-photo analysis to Yemen man updates to mild exhortation. Excitement over playing third-wheel on a date to engage in the vetting of the newest romantic prospect of a friend. Shared celebration via never-ending reply all email chains proclaiming good news from afar.

There's a level of appreciation of others that draws me away from my own self-centered mindset, but I need to take it one step further. Isn't it a bit stingy of me to benefit from others' kindness and social contribution without making a few deposits of my own? The greatest joy, with the most satisfying returns, is to invest purposefully in others; to engage the outside world. I'm reminded of my impact on others through the kind (if somewhat disconcerting) words of a very dear, wayward old friend, the pleas for a smile from the homeless man on the curb, the affirming words of Bob, or perhaps the hurt and confusion evoked by my own biting words and deeds. Relational wisdom does me little good if I forget to apply it or get so caught up in living it perfectly that outside myself I don't simply live. And it is the times when I am looking outside of myself, my circumstances, my own little worries, frustrations and insecurities, and truly engaging with others, that I feel most alive.

And now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a life to execute.

Ode to Joy

This morning, head still swirling with all the weightier questions of life and providence and purpose, I stood waiting outside the elevator. As the car came to a stop and the doors opened, I heard the tail end of a familiar tune fade and a maintenance man slipped a harmonica in his backpocket. Grinning slyly at him, I stepped into the car, and hit my floor number as another staffer joined us. The doors closed and I hesitated.

"You're not going to serenade us?" I asked.

Both of my elevator companions turned to me quizzically; the older gentleman's mustache bristling into a knowing smile.

"Oh? Sure," he said as he drew out his instrument and gave it a blow.

"What was that tune you were playing before? The really familiar-sounding one?" I prodded. "And do you often play on the elevator?"

At this point the doors opened to the 2nd floor and our third-wheel staffer stepped off quickly, amused or annoyed, I couldn't say.

Turning to me, the older man explained, "I do like to play sometimes when I'm in the elevator by myself. What you heard me playing was "Ode to Joy"."

He blew a few more notes into his harmonica as the car came to a stop on my floor and the doors opened.

"Well," I said, stepping out out into the marble hallway,"It was beautiful. I wish I could stick around to hear more. Have a nice day."

And we went our separate ways. I didn't even catch his name. All I know is with a simple song and chance encounter, my furrowed brow turned to a smile and my heart felt 10 pounds lighter. And as I wander the Senate halls from now on, I carry the hope that I'll once more turn the corner or step into the elevator to find my charming little friend and his "Ode to Joy".

On Fear

I was musing over career and general life angst with a coworker during lunch today. Both intelligent, driven, and (for the most part) well put-together women in our mid-twenties, we seem to always find ourselves hashing out the same questions again and again: What career path should we pursue? How much should we invest in our careers long-term? How do we really know we are making the right decisions? How do we get past ourselves and our nagging fears that drive us to feeling that we must make the right decision, and that any alternative path might be wrong? Why the HECK do we find ourselves beating up against this same wall with the same questions over and over again with no answers and no relief? How do we move forward toward more meaningful jobs, better suited to our talents and passions, with the realization that what we are looking for cannot be found in the "right" job or man or wardrobe or social status? How do we simply move forward?


Is your head spinning yet? Because mine never seems to stop.

The more we questioned one another, and fed off of our respective fears and anxieties, the more I observed two things: A) Whatever we are focusing on in life at the moment (career, romance, adventure, acceptance) will not fulfill our deepest desires and B) The bottom line is always fear.

If I focus all my energies on my career (or lack thereof) and I deceive myself into thinking that discovering the right career path and being successful will make me ultimately happy, I might either become an extremely disappointed workaholic or continue to float aimlessly in indecision. If I am looking earnestly for the right man, God-ordained to treat me like a little princess and whisk me away from all my troubles, well then I'm going to die a lonely old soul or become quickly disillusioned with whatever suitor I might mistake to be the chosen one. Should I set my sights on celebrity caliber beauty, body and fashion sense (ha-who am I kidding!?!) I will either go broke trying or end up with an eating disorder or both. In each of these cases, I am motivated to meet my own needs and desires with unfulfilling means, and I am driven by fear of rejection, failure, or disapproval of others.

The point is this: Many of our issues have the same root problem and thus, I contend, require a similar solution. The root of all these evils fear. And the fear of anything other than the fear of God is both paralyzing and enslaving.

Yes, I am a PK (for those of you who don't know that's preacher's kid), and yes I'm going to spiritualize this. After all, in my humble opinion, there really is no separation between the spiritual and the secular. You see, a wise mentor once helped me work my way out of a certain bondage I had placed myself under in an attempt to fill my deepest desires and needs with a man, a relationship. He taught me that any fear - loneliness, abandonment, vocational failure, unattractiveness, rejection, etc- any fear that we allow to control or manipulate us will only place us in bondage when we elevate that fear, and whatever it drives us to, in our hearts. But there is an exception. All the aforementioned fears, those are what the Bible calls the fear of man. Sounds kind of odd, I'll admit, but what's packed into that little phrase can be quite powerful, and not in a good way.

But so much more so is the fear of God. The fear of God. Now, I will say that for a long time those words reared an ugly little head of rebellion in my heart. And skepticism toward Biblical relevance in the 21st century. To be honest, to some degree they still do. But hear me out. Because those of you who know me know I am just about the most stubborn, hard-hearted, rebellious little firecracker this side of the Mississippi.

I have allowed various fears to motivate me over my short 25-year lifespan. Every time I have awoken to the realization that I am living in unhealthy fear of something, I experience several telling signs: bondage, anxiety, insecurity, hopelessness, helplessness, weighed down, depression, loss and confusion. I've even gotten pretty good at recognizing when I'm living in fear, shaking myself out of that state and re-setting myself with a healthier mindset, at least in whatever area it is I've found myself in bondage. But only when I am truly trusting in the Lord, turning my issues and problems and anxieties over to Him, am I able to truly feel release, freedom, and a rushing high the likes of which must be a brief breeze of heavenly wind. You see, I think Godly fear is really not at all like the bondage-inducing fear we place ourselves under when we place more importance on what others think of whatever we say, do, accomplish, or wear. It is trusting that He cares for us, that He has given us gifts and abilities to use in the world, and that if we trust Him, He will see us through. Regardless of what everyone else on the outside, or even that nagging self-loathing voice on the inside, may be telling us. Those voices, those influences, those are the things of the fear of man. They want to keep us wrapped in bondage.

God does not. And He has called me each day to fear Him more than the world. To fear NOT using the talents He has given me, more than the failure or rejection that might ensue if I do. To fear the Lord is to believe Him and trust His promises, which are always true and always bring freedom. He promises to give me answers and wisdom if I come to Him trusting. He promises to bring peace to my troubled soul. But I cannot fear both man and the Lord at the same time. I cannot trust that the Lord will give me answers when I'm listening to everyone else around me tell me there is another way to be happy, fulfilled, freed from all I feel. I've tried it both ways, and He is tried and true. I've wandered and floundered a bit, and my journey is far from over. But I hear Him calling me to fear Him more than failure, ridicule or rejection, and trust His promises. Heaven help me, I intend to do just that.