humility. dignity. money. & not grinding my teeth

(some of my favorite things i've ever written have come out on napkins, or, like this one, on the "notes" of my iphone. i typed this in the waiting room of my dentist's office just before i left for my roadtrip 5 months ago, and just found it. i was struggling with what humility and dignity looked like at that point, and this is what God taught me that day. it totally shows, very viscerally, very vulnerably, where i was at, but i think it's worth sharing.)

money: I am so glad God is bigger than my bank account. Well, of course he’s bigger than my bank account, because my bank account is minuscule (often negative), and so even a crayon is bigger than that. But he’s bigger than my bank account is small. He’s big enough to make it stretch. I’m so grateful for that. I have definitely decided that I always want to be a little bit desperate for him. That’s a scary prayer, but I never want to be complacent. I know that for a fact. I think I might be praying to always be a democrat, but anyway, I never want to have enough money. I always want to have to ask Jesus for help. That’s horrifying. But it’s true. I don’t know that I can trust myself to not rest on my laurels. I got really judgmental last week of some televangelists who have an airport named after them (they actually named their ministry after themselves), and I’m just going, whaaa? How can you be reliant upon God if you have that much money? And – this is one awesome thing that Mark’s taught me – everything comes at a price. Even my NTI today. I was a little afraid I might have to go out with the Dentist after he gave me a free $500 dental appliance. I don’t want there to be a price. I want God to give. I want him to provide. I want to be desperate for him, I want to need him, because I know he’ll provide. Damn. There’s dignity. There’s humility. I know I’m nothing without Him but I know he won’t leave me empty handed.

church secretaries run the world

i walked into the bar like i knew what i was doing and after 20 steps i realized that was a mistake.

my friends weren't anywhere to be seen. this local hangout, one of the nicer places in town, was a sausage-fest (pardon me), and had no table full of thirty-to-forty-something women, which is precisely who i'd come looking for. not just any table, but a specific table.

the hostess spotted my concern. "can i help you?" i told her that the girls from work said we'd be meeting in the bar for happy hour. "have you seen a table full of church secretaries?" i asked her. she shook her head slowly and offered me a walk around. after a perimeter's stroll i noticed them outside the window. outside? it's freezing. but there they were, perched under a heater.

i told them about how i'd asked for them and jayne said she hates that word. "secretaries."

sandy runs the front desk at the church, and karyn processes all the payroll. jenete does the check requests and purchasing and harleen runs the bookstore and manages the hospitality teams. yvette keeps marriage and family ministry, ministering arts & mars hill in line, and jayne takes care of those in need and seeking help through benevolence and organizes memorial services.

obviously, nobody here's a secretary.

cold breaths, positive thoughts

so i'm starting to get used to this feeling like my insides are going to explode out of my chest. and i think it just means that i'm really, really happy.

it's starting to get cold at nights in encinitas. like, pretty cold. two blankets, full-on pajamas & socks - cold.

sometimes letting yourself be happy is almost as awkward as letting yourself be cold. there's a bit of a fight i keep putting up - trying to pull blankets over & zip up protective coats. i'm just trying to take in deep breaths of the cold, crisp, fall-almost-winter "i deserve to be happy" air, one at a time, telling myself, "this is not about you, Stine. this is about God. He's good to you. you can rest in this." i'm believing it a little more with each one.

songs of the week

more than a feeling - boston
my love - justin timberlake featuring T.I. & timbaland
built to last - tom petty & the heart breakers
what we talked about - old 97's
fumblin' - fergie

there's sand all over my bedroom. there's sand everywhere.

which is funny, because until a few weeks ago, i never went to the beach. i've lived in north county for the past four years, always within a mile of the ocean, but i've never spent much time on the shore. until now.

we end up at the beach. that's what we do. it's a safe zone. neutral territory. public property (which lends to safety of one kind - protecting me, in a sense, from myself). government property (which sets me at ease for other reasons).

but safety, comfort, common ground - that's why we end up at the beach. five times every week.

"this is what this season is like," i say, rubbing my jaw, because it aches. i've been smiling non-stop since i started spending time with him a few weeks ago. and when i'm not with him, i'm talking about him. it's taking its toll on me, physically. "i don't think we'll always be this ridiculous." and ridiculous, it is. he steers and changes gears with his left hand while his right hand calmly engulfs both of mine. after i tried to drive us somewhere once, we abandoned that idea, because i nearly killed us. i couldn't keep my eyes on the road.

so this is where we are. this is where i am. learning how to do life... without jenni (minus one), with caleb (plus one). in the midst of it, the Lord's teaching me that He's my protector, provider & the one who ultimately surrounds me and ensures that i'm not alone - an amazing lesson to be learning, because with my weak heart, i definately have a propensity to be swayed by this one's protective nature and just lose myself in this. God's grace and timing are honestly so amazing in teaching me extra lessons about His character just in time for me to keep focused on Him. in all of this, our ultimate goal is to honor Him above all & to love the Giver more than the gift.

i can't get this song out of my head.

the rocketswing

the details are sketchy, but it's a 2x4 that's maybe a foot and a half wide, and it hangs on a rope that's maybe 50 feet down from a tree that's maybe a eucalyptus tree.

it definately swings over a little gulch, can certainly hold your body weight, you for sure want to lean to the left to avoid coming back and hitting the tree stump, and it's absolutely more fun when you jump into your swing and don't just fall.

it's the rocketswing, and it's one of a few things that didn't exist in my world until just recently, but are threatening to shake things up. this makeshift rope swing, amongst other goings-on, has me shaking my head, laughing, and smiling, and asking, "what the hell am i doing?". have you ever felt half insane, and half more-sane-than-you've-ever-felt-before? without any good reason not to jump up on the tree stump that could quite possibly break my ankle, i guess it's my turn again, but i know i'll have a split second fear when my hands first grip the rope. it goes away once i'm flying, though.