Wise words.

"Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." -Dr. Suess

What a wise man, writing colorful whimsical books for children, and slipping in little lessons for us 'grown-ups'. Life changes so quickly, whether you are getting married, graduating from college, having babies or moving to foreign countries. 

One day, I am just riding my bike Lucy to class, drinking loads of free coffee and shuffling around campus in a total bliss of low responsibility. And then out to nowhere, I become a woman of the workforce. It seems so odd, I know that I am still considered young, but I can feel myself changing like a real Northeast Autumn. 

I drove around Abilene last weekend in auto-pilot. Nothing seemed distant or far from me, but I realized the town is no longer my home. It is difficult to let go of community, to move forward with life and be glad about it; but Dr. Seuss is right to suggest that we choose to smile rather than pout. 

So today I am traipsing around with a metaphorical broad faced grin. And still selling glass. 

Blue Like Jazz.

I can't wait to see this movie. I just started reading Donald Miller's book: Blue Like Jazz. 

In the Christian world, I am about ten years late...but anyway, it is enlightening. 

"The genius of the American System is not freedom; the genius of the American system is checks and balances. Nobody gets all the power. It is as if the founding fathers know, intrinsically, that the soul of man, unwatched, is perverse."

Clicker.

I saw this picture a few days ago and thought...I can do that! Easy.

First, I made a few of these...

 

while my fifteen year old sister filled balloons with air, at one point she said:

"Krisi, are you sure these wont pop in the hot wax?"

I ignored this statement and proceeded excitedly with my project, not bothering to read the instructions. I gathered all necessary supplies and 'patiently' waited for my recycled wax to boil. Grabbing a balloon I cautiously dipped the neon rubber into Harvest scented wax and within five seconds the hot air EXPLODED all over my mom's stainless steel kitchen, my face, hair and sweater. Oops.

My General Manager calls me the clicker, I move to fast and often make simple mistakes because I will not take the time to read over my work. I hate waiting, I am terrible at taking my time... it often results in splattered wax. 

Strangers.

Somedays, I have to plead with God to give me faith. I know, I hope his truth is real. 

But I wander if my perception of that truth has been twisted backwards for so long it will break me to be corrected. 

I want God. 

I need God. 

I just keep tumbling around in the same circle of agonizing questions and contradictions. Am I alone? 

Nothing I do is on purpose.

Last night I gathered up my day old hair and twisted it into a braid, starting at my crown and cascading down to the nape of my neck, it looked pretty good. I did it watching TV, no mirror or comb involved. 

I love this picture. Capturing the light, focus and sparkle in her eyes all at the same time was practically a miracle. Especially since she spent the rest of the day in child-tantrum tears. The truth? I took this photo by accident. 

In fact, I would go as far as to claim that practically nothing that turns out right in my life was done on purpose. 

Crafting, cooking, painting, job profession, singing harmony, sewing, photography...all of it I attempt to conquer and always end up with a product different than my initial intentions. This is a funny truth to life I think, if it turned out the way I planned when I was sixteen, I would be married to a Baptist youth pastor with a baby on the way. Instead I am a single lady, braving the workforce and living with my parents; quite an unexpected accidental adventure. 

I think this unexpected adventure is worth it for those moments of getting it right. 

Feeding a baby 

Giving a GOOD haircut

Getting caught laughing...

Getting caught planking. 

Having a friend know you so well they tag you in this picture:

Finding great friends

What about you? 

Beautiful dress.

Guest Posted today.

At Ally Spotts blog.

Read about my exposed dating life HERE.

Non-sensical musings.

Leaving will not make me happy

Staying has nothing to do with it either. 

How often can I recycle the same question? 

I wish I could reach into the depths of me &

Find and the problems and solutions. 

Somehow each day must be lived like the last

While not forgetting to plant a long term life

Can it be possible to be happy with my 

Story, which unfolds in front of me,

Stumbling out.

Mentally sprinting appears to be my speed

Fleeing for the hills from the commitment 

Flatlands. 

Will I stop...ever?

I have to make a choice. 

Matthew 6

"If GOD gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers- most of which are never seen- don't you think he'll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What i'm trying to do here is get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God's giving. People who don't know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don't worry about missing out. You'll find all you everyday human concerns will be met."

I really like weather.

Cold
This is a cold that stumbled into Abilene. It crept up on us with fingers clawing at our skin, pulling at the roots of my scalp.
It wraps its chilling fingers around my stiffened nose, tightened mouth, so stinging it causes teeth to ache
My ankles ill exposed soak in the icy wind with no gratitude
 The cold squeezes out the sunny memory of a warmer day
Blinding clouds of dreary gray carry thick waves of icy wind that smother me.

Cold
________________________

Warm
Sunshine splashes across the cool spring pond
The pavement black, inhales the rays that joyously that melt into the ground
It smooths like creamy lotion over every colorful surface,
Kissing the skin with a slight and tempting pink
It coaxes the buds out of the tender soil, and twists buoyant leaves our of sleeping roots and twigs.
Warm
_____________________________________


Rain
When the day starts without the sun, there is a certain excitement in the earth
They have been waiting patiently for the rolling and crackling clouds to carry them a gift
Every rose and lili dress in their brightest colors, trees stretch out their limbs to full extent with thirsty anticipation
Colors that hide in brighter light, let out their full ambers, lush greens, stunning auburns and all give their best performance for the creator
As the first drop falls to the mossy floors, insects and humans alike burrow deep under covers and back nooks to observe the glossy spread in a dry and content environment
The smells combine a sweet must with sugary blooms to create a tantalizing aroma
The kissing of drops on every surface is a gift from the heavens
Even the dirt smiles as it becomes mud cakes and chocolate puddles
Rain

I made a sale.

    This is me.                                                                                       This is my sale.       

For three months I have drug myself into car dealerships, smiling and quoting prices I knew nothing about. But the day has finally arrived, I was annoying enough, for long enough. And I had a bite. Three bites really. 

Three windshields. That were bought and installed because of me. How cool is that? 

The last four years of my life were spent daydreaming about how I could solve problems in the world, stand up for justice and speak on behalf of those who have no voice. I thought graduation would take me to remote parts of the world...it took me home. 

I have no food for the hungry, but I have windshields. And you know what? This is only the beginning, I am learning persistence and determination, I am learning to be relatable in a culture far removed from my own. One full of cars, service drives and glossy business cards. 

Here is where growing-up kicks off. And I know I am not alone, there are plenty of other boomerang kids out there making sales just like me. Congrats.                                                                                 

We all have regrets.

So what do we do with them?

I remember two years ago sitting on my excellent back porch in Abilene lounging with friends, avoiding homework, housework, ect. I had made the semi-committed decision to embark on a classic college-graduate adventure, and backpack across Europe. So I tucked up my knees and turned to Brooke, proposing we make this a shared experience. I repeated this proposal to several of my friends over the next few months, they all had an initial response of excitement and anticipation which seemed to fizzle with the reality of the cost and time commitment.

As much as I talked about it, I never thought I would actually go.

So Saturday, October 10, 2010 was a day of complete unbelief as I signed into my Paypal account and booked the flight to Germany, eight months in advance. I had to seal the deal, with or without a friend because I didn't want to chicken out.

Everyone thought this was brave, to go alone without protection or camaraderie.
I thought this was panic.

I went and had an excellent experience. Read about the journey here.
One of my college roommates left for Europe a week ago with a friend and has been blogging about each mishap and tasty french pastry. As much as I loved my trip, I have a deep lament that I did it alone.

Laughing when lost is a luxury reserved only for those who travel with a friend.

I know that clinging to my regrets like a mothers skirt teaches me nothing. Having a friend to share my adventure would have been a spectacular treat, but pushing to communicate through tears and make friends with strangers taught me much more about my character.

99%

Yesterday I was selling glass in Dallas and made the ignoramus decision to eat lunch at Smashburger, located in the heart of downtown next to the Federal Reserve Building. Little did I know there would be 300 amped-up protesters spewing chants that Micheal Scott summed up years ago: "Mo money, mo problems." 

Read more about protests here. 

It was almost comical to see dozens of twenty-somethings who haven't showered in days sporting cameras that cost more than my paycheck, and tweeting each clever pun they reverberated. 

But you know what? 

I wanted to yell out the window of Mouse the Honda, "hey, way to go, i'm with you guys!" while at the same time I was tempted to belt "suck it up and sell glass like me!" 

I am realizing more and more how this country needs both the consistency of conservatives and the active change of liberal ideology. Checks and balances right? 

Who made it into history books? If the Boston Tea Party members strolled by me, I would have been in a buggy ducking my head, wishing I was brave enough to dump tea into the sea...while also mocking their silly costumes. 

It is time we middle-class twenty-somethings developed our voice; mine is just a little hoarse right now. 

The Boomerang Child.

It has been six months since my last session of class and I can hardly accept it; however, I cannot fully claim the life of a completely independent adult. Apparently Merriam-Webster has a definition for graduates like myself, we are known as the boomerang children: which is “young adults who returns to live at his or her family home especially for financial reasons.” 

That's me. The Boomerang girl. 

Yesterday, I was in Dallas visiting Car dealerships and Body Shops, presenting them with all kinds of smiles and free pens. Parking Mouse the Honda on golden bricks in a Mercedes dealership, wedged between shiny metal worth more than than my entire education seems rather comical. But none the less I marched up to the men in suits, sporting little earpieces you would see in the CIA and presented them with my glossy, 3x3 business card. 

I rewarded myself with a stop at a Cupcake Boutique in Uptown to visit my friend Emily to reminisce about the good ol' days. We laughed about how life had brought us both to places that went completely awry from the original plan, but still seemed rich in experience and the inevitable character building. 

Emily kept saying "I wish someone would have warned me about this stage of life." I thought about how I was lucky enough to have friends prepping me for the next twelve months and all of its woes...and yet I still feel unprepared. 

I parallel my experience to climbing Longs Peak: no matter how many videos I watched or advice I received on how to have a successful trip, it was the actual feet-on-trail experience that taught me how to climb a mountain. Being apart of the "Boomerang" club is not ideal, but I sure am learning to climb. 

And just because...

I am...

More to follow as I begin to study Leviticus. 

Selfish shellfish.

Read Jeff Goins post of Compassion.

On Saturday, my mom rallied two of her semi-willing daughters into helping with an all day cooking project. We slaved away in the kitchen for six hours, dicing, chopping, slicing and squeezing all kinds of ingredients into soups, casseroles and more. The smell of stewing meat and veggies warmed the kitchen and clung to my apron, the first day of October was greeted with baking chicken and Chile Verde. 

Why you ask? Me sister-in-law is home from the hospital with her two little miracles. We are still praying for Bryce's pumping heart, praying that the defect might be minuscule and quick to heal. My mom wanted to make the transition as easy as possible for the new family, so we planned out their next ten meals. 

Do you want to know the thoughts running through me head all day? 

Man, I am an excellent servant. 

Fast-forward twelve hours;. I was planning a bike ride to the Modern with a friend from church, and ready to relax and celebrate the sudden dive into brisk fall mornings. The house phone rang with an urgent pleading which my mother answered, I heard the dejected tone in her voice as she listened to my Grandmother asking for help after a night of "sick".

Without hesitation, my mom put on her gloves and moved to the door with my younger sister in-tow. I stood rooted to the floor, gazing after them in complete defiance, knowing there was nothing in my legs that would carry me towards the impending doom.

All I could think about was how selfish my heart is, I would cook all day reveling in my personal sacrifice and refuse to help my grandmother on grounds of a weak stomach. Picking and choosing our discomfort has no merit.

C.S. Lewis once wrote: “Christ says, ‘Give me All. I don’t want so much of your time and so much of your money and so much of your work: I want You. I have not come to torment your natural self, but to kill it. No half-measures are any good. I don’t want to cut off a branch here and a branch there, I want to have the whole tree down. … Hand over the whole natural self, all the desires which you think innocent as well as the ones you think wicked—the whole outfit. I will give you a new self instead. In fact, I will give you Myself: my own will shall become yours.’"