Lean on me

As I was saying in my previous blog, my grandma and aunt came out to visit me.  One day I decided to take them to White Rock.  We rented grandma a walker and headed to the beach!  When we got there she wheeled herself up to the railing and stood there for a minute while I paid for parking.

When I got up to where she was she said, “Now I really don’t mean to bother your girls, and I know you are going to be upset with me when I say this, but I would really rather use my cane today.  Walking on the pavement is too difficult with this walker.”  So I took her walker back to the car and grabbed her cane.

We started making our way over to the pier and grandma gripped the railing with one hand and her cane with the other.  When we got to the pier we had to cross some train tracks and so she grabbed my hand and I helped her balance as we walked.

It worked out quite perfectly as I tend to move at a stroll pace anyway.

About half way down the pier this group of middle aged people were walking back and passing us slowly as they stopped and looked over the railing every 5 seconds.  Grandma and I just kept walking and talking as she held on to my hand.  One woman looked at me and smiled, so I smiled back.  As we passed by her, her grin just kept getting bigger, then as we were about to pass she whispered “that’s special.”

My grandma throughout the walk would apologize for walking too slow, and when we offered to stop she would want to keep going.  She is very strong and she doesn’t want to be a burden.  But it reminded me a bit of how I treat God.

I think I have my life totally figured out, but I don’t.  In my mind, I don’t need a crutch, or a cane, I can handle walking just fine.  Jesus is walking next to me and we are chatting or whatever, but we like, don’t need to hold hands or anything.  If anything happens, like I trip, or someone almost rollerblades into me, Jesus will help me out.  I mean, he’s right there, he’s RIGHT next to me, and we’re talking.

But is it enough to just be talking to him?  Is it enough to just have him by my side ready to catch me if I fall?

What if I spent my life grasping onto his hand?  What if I leaned on him, even when I could hold myself up?

Scripture describes Jesus as a “Cornerstone.”  Isaiah 28:16 says, “See, I lay a stone in Zion, a tested stone, a precious cornerstone for a sure foundation; the one who trusts will never be dismayed.”

The definition of a cornerstone is: “A stone that forms the base of a corner of a building, joining two walls.  An important quality or feature on which a particular thing depends or is based.”

Jesus was never intended to be just some guy strolling alongside us.  He is our cornerstone, he is there to be leaned on.  Even when things are easy.

I have a tendency to slack on stuff when my life gets easy.  Things are going my way and I’m not facing too many challenges, and well, I just don’t need to read my Bible because things are going good.  And those are the times when things sneak up on me.  I put Jesus on the sidelines and run full force towards a path filled with rocks and roots sticking up to trip me.

My grandma leaned on me, and she took a few moments here or there to rest.  When we got to the end of the pier we turned to start walking back and the sun was on our right.  She said, “uh oh”  I said, “What?”  She said, “Now I can see my shadow and I’ll see how much I wobble.”

The truth is, we are always wobbling.  We may not see it, and we think we are fit to walk on our own, but it’s happening.  Jesus is there to be held on to, not just to grab when we trip, but to lean in to every hour of every day, to be our firm foundation.

But, what a blessing it is to wobble when you are leaning on Jesus.

What makes you interesting.

My Grandma and Aunt came to visit me this last week.   They left today and my whole scoot back to work I was holding back tears.  As soon as I walked into my office my co-worker saw me and I burst into tears.  She hugged me and I got snot all over her jacket.  *True love right there*

My grandma is my favorite person in the whole world.  When she told me she was coming across the country to visit I couldn’t contain my excitement.  I told *EVERYONE* about it.

Not to mention the hundreds of stories I told people about my grandma before I knew she was coming.

My grandma is the mother of all the Curtins.  All of our shenanigans originate in the daring, effervescent, spontaneous 84 year old who went home one day and said, “I think I want to take a trip…”

My grandma hates inconveniencing people.  Little does she know that she never inconveniences anyone.  Instead, she brings joy to everyone she meets.  If I could be anything like this godly, spunky woman when I am 84, I will be pleased.

My grandma went to North Carolina, Maryland, and San Diego before she got to me, and she did a lot of stuff.  I tried to think of things we could do around here without walking too much.  Well, if you’ve ever been to the North West, you quickly realize that God has blessed this land with plush, green grass and breezy beach fronts.  Which means, most of the “what to do’s” here include nature walks.

When grandma originally planned her trip I was working as a Barista and the end of August was going to be a good time for me to ask for some time off.  Well, then I switched jobs, and turns out, the weekend grandma was here was the weekend all the students arrived on campus and I had to work like way overtime.

She and my aunt came to see my office, and as we walked on the sidewalk to my building she gripped my hand and said, “Shanna, I think your life is very interesting.”  

That swirled through my mind for a good long while.  What makes *MY* life so interesting?  I mean, if you watched a video of my life, this evening you would have watched me go to the grocery store in my gym shorts and a lime green t-shirt with a raccoon carrying a fish on it.  You would have seen me think about whether or not to change, and come to the conclusion that I wouldn’t see anyone I know, so it wouldn’t matter anyway.

You would have seen me park and get out of my car just in time to watch all the new students getting off a bus and walking in to the store.  You would have watched me stand in line with my head down as they filled the lines around me at the register.  You would have watched me drive home and try to carry all the groceries inside in 2 trips.  You would have watched me attempt to balance a gallon of milk on the trunk with 2 dozen eggs in my hand and you would have seen my huge eye roll as the milk smashed on to the pavement and emptied onto my driveway.

Other than an entertaining episode for a sitcom, I never really thought about my life as something to interest anyone.  I mean, I have a great time, but how could my life interest anyone other than myself?

And this is something I have been dwelling on throughout this last week.  What makes a person “interesting”?

Psalm 37:4 says, “Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart.”

Not gonna lie, I know some terribly boring Christians.

I think part of what makes a person interesting is the challenges they face.  And some Christians put themselves in situations where they don’t need to be challenged.  But, stories that entertain people include an obstacle someone has to overcome.  Stories that captivate people involve people trying to get from point A to point B without driving over the cardboard cutout mom pushing a baby stroller.  And a story is even more captivating if a person can yield the cardboard family with grace and dignity, or even pull over and give the cardboard family a lift to their destination.

God calls us all to different things and we all have different obstacles.  Someone doesn’t need to travel the world and have an extravagant job in order to be interesting, they just need to be challenged.  And that challenge can be, how to love the person you have chosen to spend the rest of your life with and serve them the way that Jesus served his disciples.  Your challenge could be, how to raise children who fully embrace the love of Jesus in a world with so many questions and heartache.  Or, you challenge can be, how to explain the good news to someone who doesn’t speak the same language as you.

We all have different challenges.  None of them are better or worse than another, but all of them must be faced in order for us to follow Jesus.  All of them must be faced to make us interesting.  Following Jesus is interesting, it is riveting!  But truly following Jesus means that you will have challenges!

Sometimes God does take us the places we want to go, and it may seem like one person’s life is very easy as they “minister to people in Hawaii.”  But never underestimate the challenges God places in front of someone else, because he is doing a good work in them.  

So, what makes me interesting?  Maybe at this point you think I am horribly dull.  But as I pondered my grandma’s words, I was encouraged.  My stories are normally ridiculous and can be funny sometimes, but I don’t think that those are the basis of my “interesting-ness”.

I have been told by many people that my life is like a sitcom, or I should have my own sitcom.  My life is one ridiculous thing after another, and my stories do make people laugh.  But, just like any show on television, if my ridiculous stories weren’t held together by a greater plot, my life would soon become very mundane.

What is my plot?  “A twenty-somethings girl tries to figure out how to live life in various cultures while engaging her faith and sharing herself with those around her.  She struggles with doubt, purpose, and loneliness while she watches everyone else ‘have it all figured out.’  But amidst her struggles, something greater is at work molding her into who she was created to be.” I know, I could totally be a tv show critique, eh?

I miss my grandma all the time.  And every time I talk to her, I am filled with the heartache of being so far from her.  She got me this plaque one time that resides on my wall and says, “She wasn’t where had been, she wasn’t where she was going, but she was on her way.

God is doing something greater.  God is reigning in the spunk and spontaneity to bring him glory through the interesting and ridiculous stories.  And as I delight myself in him he is giving me the desires of my heart.

Irrational fear confession time

Everybody has them.  Don’t even pretend you don’t.  I mean, someone says they are afraid of clowns and everybody thinks it’s a big joke…. gtm.  But the definition of fear is: An unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat.

If I see a clown I am not going to run and hide.  But, I can totally understand why someone would think that an adult wearing a ton of makeup and so many bright colors, hanging out with children would be totally horrifying.  We end up having sensory overload, some of us react with laughter, but some of us react with tears too.  And that’s ok.

So here is my confession.  I am afraid of doing new things alone.  If I have to do something for the first time by myself and I am going to be in front of a bunch of people I start to think about all the mistakes I’ll make.  Like, I’ll sit in someone’s seat, or I’ll drive in the wrong entrance, or I’ll walk in the door and be on the stage.  And I think about these things happening in front of a bunch of strangers and then they’ll laugh at me cause I’m the idiot that walked through the wrong door and then I’ll sit down and not a single one will say anything to me.

Story time:

When I was in 9th grade I transferred to a public school, the only person I knew in the whole place was my brother who was popular and who was in a different lunch period than me.  The first day I walked in and asked if I could sit with these girls, they spent the entire period talking to only each other.  The second day I asked if I could sit with another table of girls, they spent the entire period talking about all the guys they slept with over summer break.  The third day I thought, “I’m just gonna sit at a table and whoever sits around me, sits around me.  Turns out there was one table every period that no one sat at.  Guess which table that was.  So I spent the entire period at this circle table by myself, I remember I was wearing overalls (who wouldn’t want to sit by me!?).

So, this fear that I have isn’t just random.  It’s a fear because it has happened to me before.  Many times.

Why am I blogging about this fear?  Because I had it this morning, and I’ve been having it a lot lately in regards to church.  I grew up going to the same church my whole life, everyone knows me, I know what doors I should or should not walk in, and I know there will always be someone there that I know.  Even my entire time at school it wasn’t a big deal because I always had friends to go with.

I have people I could go to church with now but most of them are there with their significant others and I don’t want to be that clingy friend that follows them around on Sundays.  And I’ve gone to church by myself for a while and once past the initial fear it isn’t so bad, except I find it absolutely exhausting to meet new people.  So, the first sunday I meet someone, the next sunday they don’t remember who I am and I have to meet someone else.  And it keeps going until it gets to the point where I’m like, I’ve been going to this church for 6 months why the heck can’t people remember someone they talk to every week?!

So I wake up Sunday morning, and I lie in bed and I think about all the things that could go wrong when I try to go by myself, and I end up getting myself so overwhelmed that I just decide it would be better for me to stay home and try again next week.  Until all of the sudden I realize, I haven’t been to church in a month.  At this rate, I am totally nominal.  And here’s the really sucky thing, I love church.  I love going to church.  I love sermons and singing worship songs and corny announcements.

Sometimes people ask what my hobbies are and I never know what to say, “uhhh, I like Facebook?”  I was asked this in an interview a couple weeks ago and I told my housemate about it and she was like, “you like blogging don’t you?” hah, oh yeah…  But, as I was writing this particular blog I realized, church is totally my hobby.  And so, I am not enjoying one of my two hobbies because I am filled with fear of being alone and doing something stupid.  Which if we’re being honest, happens when I try to avoid it anyway.

Now to finish the story from the beginning:

I had my back to most of the cafeteria, and I could hear this girl talking at a table behind me.  “Is it a new kid?  Should we ask them to sit with us?  I think it’s a new kid.”  And then this girl walks up behind me and asks me if I’d like to join their table.  I did and then 2 minutes later the bell rang.

That afternoon on our way home from school I told my brother Jeff how pumped I was that I found a table to sit at.  And he goes, “now tomorrow, just sit down at their table again.”  And I said, “No, I should ask, what if they don’t want me there again.”  The next day I was standing at the till paying for my lunch when the girl yelled across the caf, “You can sit with us again if you like!”  And I ended up becoming kind of ok friends with this girl Erica who also sat at the table, and suddenly I had someone to talk to in the hallway between classes.

So, going to church by myself might not end up being the worst thing ever.  Maybe I’ll find a church and make friends.  Maybe it’ll all turn out ok eventually.  In the meantime, it would be totally awesome if you could pray for me, and pray for this fear, for me to realize that it’s not as significant as I think it is, that it is able to be overcome.

And, if you have a home church, look around and see if there is someone who looks like they don’t belong or you haven’t seen them before.  And step out of your friend circle and say hi, ask them about themselves.  And then look for their face the next week, and remember their name, and make it a point to say hi, to let them know that you notice them and they’re welcome there.  We are supposed to be a family, so why do we ignore our brothers and sisters just because they aren’t in our clique.

You’ll never be a missionary, kid!

When I was 15 I told my mom I wanted to be a missionary.  She told me that I could never be a missionary because it doesn’t provide for the extravagant life I’m used to.  That’s the most important thing in our life right?  To be able to provide for ourselves?  And to be comfortable enough?

Well, then I went to Bible college and worked towards a degree in Intercultural Studies, aka missions.  So here I am, 24 years old with a Bachelor of Arts in telling people about Jesus, I’m elbows deep in recommendations and connections.  And to continue with this fantastic birthing analogy, you could say my career is in labour, as I am pushing and the rest of my life BURSTS FORTH.  hahaha, I am grossing myself out so much right now.

I’ve been waiting on a particular job for 3 months, 3 months of applying and calling to see if any progress has been made, and I went through 2 interviews.  This job is part of a missions organization so I’m like, sweet!  Getting the career off to a good start!  And then I got an email the other day informing me they would no longer be pursuing me as a candidate for that position.

So then I broke down, and at this point am just ignoring it.  Cause if I don’t think about it, I can’t get depressed right?

Today, I was talking with some people and a past situation was brought up.  About 2 years ago I was going to be heading back to school and applied for Missional Living Chair on the student council at my school.  I was easily the most qualified of the two candidates, if only for the fact that I was IN Intercultural Studies, had BEEN on my internship and had BEEN going to the school for longer than 1 semester.  And yet, I didn’t get it.  The position was given to a first year student.

The position got brought up today and of course got me thinking about how I didn’t get that position either.  And then I started wondering, am I not supposed to be a missionary? You’d think it would be easier to actually GET to do the thing God is calling you to, right?

I mean, I’ve been volunteering in church ministry for years, I have the president of a Bible College as my main reference, his wife as a mentor, and numerous people informing me that I have the gift of evangelism.  To be honest, I can’t help but feel like I’m just not good enough or spiritual enough or righteous enough or something.

I just quit my job across town because I could no longer get out there after a scooter incident.  And so now, here I am, jobless, no prospects, no friggin idea of what the heck I’m doing with my life, as usual.

But here is the most discouraging thing for me: I have no pull anywhere.  I have no strings, nothing attaching me to anything.  I have some family in NY but everyone keeps moving, so that isn’t a constant.  It’s not like I have a family or significant others in my life keeping me anywhere, and I clearly don’t have a career keeping me anywhere.  Not even my friends are constant, they leave every 4 months and there is no guarantee that they’ll be back.  It all adds up to a seriously lonely life.

So why am I here?  Should I even stay here?  What’s the point?  To bring up some random conversation with a stranger?  To make people feel encouraged or something?  To write blogs?  Awesome, I’m so glad I’m being used to my full potential via venting on the internet. (I am being sarcastic).  I feel pointless, homeless, and totally uncertain.  Why don’t I just go wandering around the world.  It’s pretty much what I’m doing now, might as well at least get some good sights in, maybe learn a new language or something.  Cause whatever it is that I’m doing now, I feel just as lonely as if I was wandering around the world by myself.

And as usual I now have a big decision to make.  Should I stay here or should I move “home” which is actually just a place everyone keeps leaving.  At least it would be easier to do my freaking taxes and go to the doctor in America!  Why am I staying here?  As of right now I can’t find a reason.  I usually go based on feelings, but that’s what I did last year, that’s why I stayed here and where has that gotten me?  Back in the same place only now I can confidently say I hate Tim Hortons way more than I ever imagined I could?

Sometimes people make these subtle comments around me, basically to mock me for the fact that I am never upset or something.  Cleary those people don’t know me very well.  I realized the other day that I always hide it though too, when I’m upset I don’t leave my room, so if you see me the chances that I’m in a good mood are pretty much 100%.  Well, here ya go, sometimes Shanna doesn’t end on a happy note.

Just kidding, yes I do.  I made up a new word, “deprext” which is to send depressing texts and it’s Christmas Eve!

Totally perfect timing.

I struggle with anxiety.  I am pretty laid back when it comes to most things, but I get really anxious about going through an unknown situation alone for the first time.  If someone is there with me I am fine, but it is when I am heading into something alone that I get paranoid.  And if I really want a particular thing to happen, I get so anxious that I’ll miss being in the right place at the right time.  Like, if I am waiting for a call from a particular job I applied for, I will answer my phone in every situation because I’m scared of missing the call.  I am constantly scared that I am going to miss out on some big plan God has for my life because I was busy watching tv or because I decided to stay home rather than going out.  I am scared of missing out.  And usually I try my best to comfort myself by remembering God is in control and he will make sure I am ready for whatever he is bringing me through.

I applied for this job almost 2 months ago, and I really really want this job.  When I applied the process went a little slow at first and I didn’t hear anything for a couple weeks.  And then one of my references said they got a call from the organization, and the next week I had an interview.  With my current job I found out I can get 5 days off in a row in order to go home for Christmas, which is awesome because I haven’t been home for Christmas in 2 years. They said that they were hoping the job would start late November-early December.  At my interview I asked if the offices were closed over Christmas and found out that they are not, and if I got the job I would not be able to go home for yet another Christmas, which I was kinda bummed about but knew if this was the job God had for me it would all work out ok.  Well, then the job got put on “hold” while the people in charge figured out exactly what they were looking for.  About a month has gone by since my first interview, and I have called a whole bunch of times to figure out what was going on.  About 2 weeks after the job being put on hold, I started to wonder, if this job is put on hold long enough, it will start after Christmas and I’ll still be able to go home.  Well, last Tuesday I called and it has finally gotten taken off hold.  They are starting the process over again, and will be calling people next week for interviews, with the job now hoping to begin end of December-early January.

And, so, I have bought my plane ticket home and I am SO PUMPED!  I can’t wait to see my grandma and aunt, and eat kuchen, and hold Ania, and chad, and Elizabeth in the biggest hug, I can’t wait to have the most ridiculous conversations with my brothers, I just can’t wait for any of it.  Is it too soon to start packing now?  No, that is totally irrational right?  Maybe I’ll just start making a packing list.  I haven’t bought my return ticket yet because I am still waiting.  Still waiting to see if I get this job and be able to spend more than 4 days with my family.  But I get to go home for Christmas and that is the best news!  I am so confident in whatever plan God has, and trust that he will take care of all the things I am currently anxious about.

I was journaling about all of this stuff, and then read Proverbs 26 and started thinking about what I am going to read through when I finish Proverbs at the end of November.  I kind of want to read through the life of David and then through Psalms, so I started looking through 1 Samuel for headlines with “David” in them to find where his story begins and the first story I found was 1 Samuel 16.

God tells Samuel that he has rejected Saul as king and that he is sending Samuel to Jesse of Bethlehem where he has chosen one of Jesse’s sons to be king.  Samuel is all scared about Saul killing him on route to find a new king and God tells him to bring a heifer and say he is going to sacrifice it and invite Jesse, and he does and Samuel is totally safe.  So Samuel is introduced to 7 of Jesse’s sons.  And when he sees them he is like totally confident one of them will be king because of their appearance and God says, “Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him.  The Lord does not look at the things man looks at.  Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”  And God tells Samuel that none of these 7 guys will be king, so Samuel asks Jesse if he has any more sons.  Jesse says, the youngest is out tending the sheep and Samuel says, “send for him; we will not sit down until he arrives.” So David gets brought in “he was ruddy, with a fine appearance and handsome features.  Then the Lord said, ‘Rise and anoint him; he is the one.”  And Samuel anoints David and the spirit of the Lord came on David with power.

Alright, let’s just talk about how perfect this story was for me this morning.  Samuel is all paranoid about going somewhere, and it doesn’t say he has anyone with him, I mean all he has is a heifer.  Which I guess is great, because animals really are the life of the party anyway, but still. But God is with him and tells him what to do and he is fine.  AND THEN there is this huge part of God’s plan that David will be king and the kid is out playing with the sheep.  Samuel is there, meeting all the brothers and ready to pick any of them and the only reason he doesn’t is because God says not to.  If Samuel took the situation into his own hands, David would have missed out on his opportunity.  But don’t forget, this isn’t Samuel’s story or David’s story, it’s God’s and so he is gonna make his plan happen.  So, Samuel listens to God and not only sends for any other sons, but refuses to sit until the boy gets there.  Not only is he waiting for him to show up to his opportunity, he won’t even sit.  David shows up and everything works out great.

Why should I be anxious about anything when God clearly is in control and will make sure I don’t miss out on his plan.  I mean, I am journaling about being anxious and choosing to be confident in God and then 15 minutes later decided to start reading through David and this just happens to be the first story I stumble upon.  I mean, COME ON!  God is good.  And I am ready for whatever he has for me in HIS timing.

Changing for Jesus is a good thing

When someone decides to dedicate their life to Jesus, they change.  Having made the choice myself, I can see the positive change it creates in people, but sometimes other people don’t like it.  It often doesn’t make sense to us, why would someone not be happy for us if we are happy?  But they aren’t.  It sucks that sometimes relationships are ruined when we choose Jesus, but that is a price he tells us we are going to have to pay.

Before we know Jesus we set up a particular life for ourselves.  Whatever life we live, we make friends in that life that agree with our choices and when all the sudden we stop I think it makes them question their motives and they don’t like that.  When I was in high school friends would tell me I was a goody two shoes because they didn’t hear me swear.  They ignored the fact that I lit a match in class once and accidentally started a rumor about a girl being pregnant, I SAID IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! Maybe that’s why I have such a desire to be BA, because people think I’m not.  Let me tell you, people of the blogging world, I. Am. Dangerous.  Watch out!  But, you really can’t make people happy, so no matter how good or not good you are, they will still find a way to critique you.  That’s why living a life for Jesus is so freeing, because for once you can actually make someone happy!  There is a right and a wrong choice to make and somebody cares enough about YOUR wellbeing to want you to make the right choice.  They don’t just care about whether your actions make them laugh or not.  I think another thing is people think that we are growing without them.  But they don’t get we want them to grow with us and they don’t want to.

There is this stereotype that a girl is going to marry a guy and then be able to change him.  Sitcoms thrive on this stereotype.  5 years later the girl is married to some bum, which is another stereotype that woman are smart and composed and men are like dumb animals, which is a stereotype I totally hate, but that rant would take me too far off topic.  Woman marry men with this hope that they’ll change, and then are totally let down when they can’t change them.  But when someone does change for the better we don’t like it?!  This world just can’t make up it’s mind.  But what we don’t get is that WE can’t change anyone, God is the only one that can do that.  And he is the only one that can do it because of the better life that he promises AND fulfills.  It’s like A Walk to Remember, Many Moore totally makes Shane West want to be a better person and her legacy leads him to a fulfilling life of contentment and med school.  And that’s what we all want, but humans can’t actually give us that.

Sometimes relationships suffer because someone doesn’t like the change they see in us.  But all we can do is pray for them and hope one day God can change their hearts too.  When I was 14 and my heart was changed some of my friendships ended.  Some of us grew apart, some of us stayed friends and some of those friends became a more shallower friendship.  Most of my brothers went the party route and I didn’t really know how to relate to them, our relationships were pretty shallow.  One of my brothers didn’t talk to me for like 7 years.  I remember we got in this argument one time and he just said, “yeah, cause you think you are so much better than me!” and I said, “no, I don’t.” but that was when I realized the divide between us.

So here is some encouragement for you: My relationship with my family was really shallow for years, but now almost all of their hearts have been changed and I have these incredibly deep and uplifting relationships with my siblings and their wives.  Some of the people who don’t like our change will grow apart from us, and discourage our growing.  God might not change any of our friends hearts and we might have to make new friends.  But I can guarantee when God calls us to this life and we have to say goodbye to some people, it is so he can give us the fulfilling and incredible life he promised.  A life with him!  Where we can feel loved and like someone actually approves of us and wants the us to be truly happy.

Jeff’s big idea

This morning I had a nice long chat with my brother, Jeff.  I always love looking back and remembering how we used to act towards each other.  The first time I ever remember dropping the f-bomb was at Jeff; I was 9 and I was mad that he was in the bathroom for so long.

Everyday Jeff and I would take $3 to school for lunch.  My dad filled this cup with $1 bills every week so he didn’t have to worry about it in the mornings.  Lunch was $1.50 but we would take extra for ice cream or juice.  I almost never used all my money, so I would just have a huge stash of one’s in the front pocket of my book bag.  Once in a while we would have to get gas before heading home or else we might not have made it.  I remember one time pulling into Stewarts and Jeff asked me how much money I had.  I had like $24, so he filled up a bit and went inside to pay.  When he was walking out he had an Arizona Ice Tea in his hand.  I was PISSED.  My mind racing at the thought of him using my hard saved lunch money to buy himself an iced tea?!  And then he got in the car and he pulled 2 cups out from behind his back.

When my parents got divorced 9 years ago, my brothers and I went pretty different ways.  I went to church, they went to college and to what seemed like a lot of parties.  There were a lot of times I questioned where my brothers stood with God.  And over the last few years I have seen them all take leaps and bounds towards Jesus, and it has been awesome to watch.  One thing I have learned about Jeff is that he has integrity.  He is one of those people that when he realizes he is doing something he shouldn’t, he gets convicted, and he actually changes and grows.

A lot of times people treat Jeff like he’s dumb, like he is still that 16 year old with frosted tips and a dragon ball z button up shirt running from a cop for some ridiculous reason.  And Jeff has done a lot of ridiculous things in his life, but Jeff lives life memorably.  He has grown up a bit since then, and now he lives in the moment and makes his life something valuable, something worth living.  I remember for about 2 years after I got saved people would say to me all the time, “You have grown so much!”  I was changing, I was moving closer to God and it was evident.  And that is something I can see in Jeff now.

As I was talking to him today he suggested something to me.  We were talking about my blog, he was asking me about my followers, and he asked me if I’ve ever considered writing a devotional.  As we talked about it, I found myself being super surprised.  Me?! Write a devotional?!  I feel like only super wise Christians who are super good with words can write devotionals.  To write a devotional you have to have at least 1 gray hair, which I have not been able to find yet, and you have to smell like a therapist, I smell like Tide April Fresh. Is this something I could even do?  I feel like it would be such a responsibility, such pressure.  But maybe it’s worth a try?  Maybe I will just continue to pray that God will speak through me and we’ll see what happens.

But something Jeff and I talked about was how my blogs got him thinking, and how some days he would skip his devotional and use my blog as his devotion to ponder throughout the day.  And I have heard from a few people now, that as I write out stories from my day and have a bunch of rants and random thoughts, something bigger ends up coming out of it (whether I intend it to or not).  I have been hearing the affect of this blog in people’s lives from all over the world.  And all I can think is AWESOME!  I am so pumped that God has been able to speak into people’s lives and that he would choose a blog originally intended for awkward stories, mission and coffee to do so!  And so I request some feedback… I would love to hear if something you read in this blog provoked a thought or an action in you and what God is doing and saying through it.  You can comment below if you’d like and I will try to be better at responding to those.  And perhaps later today I will post my first devotional?  It smells like therapist in here.

From the kitchen of some crazy lady

My family has all these “family” recipes that they steal and claim as their own. I remember one time I asked my mom for all her recipes and my aunt got “all mad” because she didn’t give her credit. (Hopefully Martha read this because she hates whenever I say, “she got all mad.” She thinks I’m being dramatic or something.)

All these recipes are incredibly delicious. They’re like some vegetable dishes made entirely of mayonnaise and sugar and everybody loves em! So, now that I live in a community house and have to make dinner once a week I usually think of recipes my aunt or grandma have tried in the past. I’ll always call and then we’ll take a significant chunk of time just to figure out what recipe I am talking about.

My aunt and my grandma are the same person, although I’m sure they’ll both kill me for saying that. My mom, dad, and aunt came out to visit for graduation. People kept saying, “Your mom is SOO FUNNY!!” and I’d say, “that’s my aunt.” My aunt and dad left their legacy on Abbotsford as those people who kept handing people their garbage and saying, “here, take care of this.” I was talking about my grandma to one of my friends the other day and they said, “is she just like your aunt?” So I showed them this picture.

My grandma lost her sense of smell and taste a while back. I mean, she can taste if it is really strong, but she does not taste things the same as everyone else, that is for sure. A couple years ago she started improvising in recipes. This did not go over well with my family. When they served themselves some curry and found apple in the mixture, faces were made, now we kinda like it. When she made her classic grilled cheese everyone got very excited, when they noticed the bacon had been replaced with apples the world halted. (My grandma loves adding apples to things). One time she made “jello salad” it was yellow jello with chopped up carrots and celery floating inside it.

I am making dinner tonight and Cindy suggested meatloaf. My aunt has this meatloaf recipe that everybody loves. It is so good and simple. I called my aunts house and my grandma answered. The conversation went like this:

Me: Hey grandma, I am making meatloaf tonight for dinner, I was wondering if you could tell me aunt Martha’s recipe?

Grandma: Oh, ok, sure. Now, do you want my recipe?

Me: Is that the one Martha makes?

Grandma: Yes, but I make it with cottage cheese and it is really good. Martha doesn’t like to add cottage cheese to hers.

Me: Yeah, I think I’ll just get Martha’s recipe.

Grandma: Ok, well, I have to look for it… [moments pass as if she is looking for it] I’ll call you back. I am making a sandwich. IT’S ONLY 2:30 YA KNOW! (She says it like this, because she is trying to justify eating her lunch so late.)

So grandma calls me back about 15 minutes later and tells me that she found her recipe. She says this is the recipe that Martha uses, she just doesn’t include the cottage cheese. She goes on this long elaborate description of this recipe and includes all these ingredients I never remember using. She starts going through the ingredients of the meatloaf, then the sauce, then the stuffing….? Then she starts telling me how everybody loves stuffing in their meatloaf and then I don’t have to worry about making potatoes with it. (Just so you know, there is apples in the stuffing) Then she says, “Now, the recipe calls for 1/2 cup cottage cheese, but Martha has crossed it out and written ‘No!!”

About 5 minutes after hanging up with my grandma I get a call from my aunt. She opens with, “Grandma just called me and said you asked for the meatloaf recipe. She said she didn’t tell you about the mustard but told you about the nutmeg? You haven’t gone shopping yet have you? I am calling to tell you the right recipe.” She gave me the recipe, 4 ingredients… Then went on for 5 minutes talking about how grandma added peppers one time and when my aunt complained she said, “Well, they are good and I cut them big enough so you could pick them out.” And my aunt said it made the entire meatloaf taste like pepper and it was not her favorite and she couldn’t eat it.

The post it notes on the left are the ingredients from my grandma’s recipe. The post it note on the right is my aunts recipe. Not entirely sure which one I will use…

Bonding

When I was a kid, my dad and I would go into the local upstate NY convenient store, Stewarts.  We would walk in, grab random groceries to feed the family for the next day, and join the line up to pay.  As we would be standing there my dad would strike up a conversation with the guy in front of him.  He would say something about what type of bread he bought or something about his shirt, but without a doubt my dad would be able to find something to bond with a stranger over.  I used to hate it.  We all did, me and my brothers, cause often times he would drag us into the conversation and somehow we would get embarrassed as children do when they are with their fathers.

As time has gone on and my brothers and I grow into mature, young, adults we have gradually noticed ourselves resembling our parents.  The thing is, none of us want to say we are just like our mom and dad. But when we are in the heat of an argument about what movie to watch on Christmas day (A Christmas Story, obvs.), when we get real spiteful we start using vicious words like, “okay, DAD!” or the person who is angriest will suddenly have some super sarcastic remark thrown at them like, “you are just like mom!” and then we respond, “you shut up!  I’ll punch you in the face!” … We really are a violent family…

But my mom and dad have some pretty great qualities, although we often neglect to tell them that.  Every single one of my brothers and I will start talking with strangers about nothing.  We are late to everything. We drive too fast, and slam the brakes.  We spill on ourselves every meal.  And we always have a good joke in our pocket ready to throw out at local parties and when an awkward silence begins to loom.

Ya know how some families will have that shy kid that doesn’t fit in with the rest?  That is not the case with us.  We are all ridiculously outgoing, we are all super weird, and we are all “a Curtin.”  Some of my friends use that phrase a lot, when I do something that they don’t quite understand.  They will say, “You are such a Curtin.”  And I don’t really mind.  I’m pretty proud of it actually.

So, anyway, today at work I reminded myself of my dad.  Every night, a little after 9, I have to call to the Tim Horton’s on Whatcom Road to place an order.  Most nights I talk to this girl, Krissy.  I met Krissy once and she seemed nice enough but I was still being all shy at that point.  Now I talk to Krissy on the phone a couple times a week for about 5 minutes and we have these little spurts of conversation.  It’s like we are friends even though I haven’t spent any time with her or had a significant conversation with her.  Usually we will spend a couple minutes talking about if something crazy happened at work that day and then we go through the order.

Well, today, I called and began talking with Krissy.  We had a bit of small talk about our days and then started into business.  Krissy was kind of on her phone so slightly distracted at first.  Then at one point she cut out for a second, then she said, “Sorry, my phone just went off.”  I said, “That’s okay.” Then she said, “My ringtone is R2D2, I love it.”  I said, “SHUT UP!  MINE TOO!!”  She said, “really?!”  I said, “YEAH!!!  What R2D2 version is it?”  She said, “R2D2: happy.”  I said, “MEE TOOOO!!!”  Then we started talking about our love of star wars for about 5 minutes and totally bonded over it.

Star Wars is timeless.  It is that common ground that everyone has.  If someone doesn’t share that common ground, it is because they are terrible at making good life choices.

Also, I miss my family.