Changes

Changes
David Bowie
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pl3vxEudif8

Now I don't know what a lot of this song is talking about. But I do know that David Bowie looks pretty dad-gum good in that last scene in Labyrinth. You know the one I'm taking about - the one with the white pants??? Anyway... here are some of the verses that I can relate to as of late.

I still don't know what I was waiting for
And my time was running wild

Isn't that the truth!!?? What the heck have I been doing these past few months? Waiting. Waiting? Describe waiting. Waiting for months to be told where to move. Waiting for months to almost go. Waiting for Josh to get home. Packing up a box to take up my time that was "running wild." Unpacking the same box. Packing that box one more time. Unpacking that box again. Deciding I'm not packing another box for this move again! There is something to be said about waiting. It is hard. It is full of uncertainty and anxiety.

A million dead-end streets
Every time I thought I'd got it made
It seemed the taste was not so sweet

Sometimes I'd like to be bitter. Why, God, why? Why did Josh lose his job? Why did we loose our house? Why do I have to take a stupid pill for the rest of my life? Why did my dad get sick? Why did Josh have cancer? Why the heck won't anybody hire me? Why has it taken a year to figure out where we're moving and when?

But I can't be bitter. I simply can't help but smile and feel excitement when I list these items.

When I was working on memorizing the Bible, I was having a hard time figuring out where to start. I wanted to memorize everything! A friend of mine asked me, "What is your favorite book of the Bible?" James. "Then start there. Start with the first verse of James."

James 1:2-4 has gotten me through these past few years. "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." Praise God! I don't want to be a baby for the rest of my life! I want to be mature and complete, not lacking anything! And if it takes a trial to do that, then bring it on. I know this life is short, and I know that Christ is strong! Christ is in me and therefore I am strong. And when I'm weak- I call on my God and He hears me. And I have peace. So how can I be bitter?

So I turned myself to face me
But I've never caught a glimpse
Of how the others must see the faker
I'm much too fast to take that test

I try hard not to be a faker. What you see is what you get. I stopped putting on a show quite a long time ago. If I'm not happy. I don't act happy. When I'm excited, I'm bouncing off the walls. And when somebody asks, "How are you?" My answer is usually quite honest: Tired. Happy. Bored. Angry. The good and the bad.

Have I faked during these trials? I don't think so. I've been happy, I've been excited, and I have looked on the bright side. I have been patient. I've been irritated, I've been angered, I've been ready to just quit. (Yeah- explain that one to me- how do you just quit life?) I've been impatient. I don't think I've been a faker. Again, what you see is what you get.

Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the strain)
Ch-ch-Changes
Don't want to be a richer man
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the strain)
Ch-ch-Changes
Just gonna have to be a different man
Time may change me
But I can't trace time

And now for the best part of the song! Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes! Turn and face the strain!...Just ganna have to be a different man! The best way to deal with life is to face it! And then grow from it.

I HATE CHANGE!!!

I struggle with change. I used to get SO mad at Josh because every time we went somewhere he'd take us a different way. It would fill me with an insurmountable amount of anxiety. I always go the same way. I don't like it when my shoes are not in my closet in the right order. I don't like it when the laundry is washed in a different order than I would normally wash it (whites, darks, jeans, brights, towls and bedding). I don't like eating anything with my Hamburger Helper other than corn. (Thanks, Daddy). And I definitely don't like plans to change.

I hate change.

What a fantastic life God has given me!! He has forced me to embrace change these past three years! By Josh and I's three year anniversary we will have moved (or almost moved) three times. Change is getting easier for me. I praise God that I am not locked in my prison of sameness anymore. I would still be in the shackles of my own routine if it hadn't been necessary for me to adapt.

I'll have you all know that when I am driving now that I will actually try to find short cuts too. (Thank you, Josh). My shoes are still neatly stacked (after a failed six-month experiment to leave them cluttered), but I no longer mind where the shoes go back. I first wash whatever pile of laundry is the highest regardless of its color... but with all this personal growth I still have some areas I need to work on. I can still only eat my Hamburger Helper with corn... although SOMETIMES I'll add a side of peas to the menu, and I still very much dislike plans to change at the last minute. Praise God that he is giving me opportunities to work on my dislike of last-minute changes! I am indeed learning to be a different (wo)man!

And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're going through

I skipped a few lines in the song because I don't know what the heck they're talking about, but I think these lines are interesting.

I told Josh the other day that it was fun being a grown up. I was with a family member that used to just be my friend's mom the other day. She was a neighbor, and her daughter and I were in basketball together. Every time I rode home with her as a kid I'd sit quietly in the back seat scared to make a peep. I didn't know anything about her. A week or so ago we went and saw a play together. We were laughing like a couple of kids during the show. On the way home she talked quite openly about her recent divorce and how she has coped with it. It really hit me, I'm a "grown-up" now. I'm listening to this real-life woman talk about real-life issues. She's not just another mom anymore, and- apparently- I'm not just some dumb ol' kid anymore. I've had my own real-life, grown-up issues to deal with. And I am "quite aware of what I'm going through."

I am still a child trying to change my world, but every year I am able to add more experiences to my life. How does the 100 year old woman have so much wisdom in her eyes? She started out at 23 dealing with one life issue after another. She gave praise to God and moved on after a difficult situation and embraced the change that surrounded her. If she hadn't, she'd have bitterness in her eyes. She'd have resentment in her eyes.

And so I choose to thank my God, and I choose to embrace this change.

Another Blog

I used to have a blog.... but after hearing my mom gripe about people who have blogs and that nobody wants to read about what you're doing anyway, and that it's really just a selfish way to only talk about yourself all the time, and on and on and on... I got rid of it.

And then what happened? My mom got a blog... HA... and then my sister got a blog... and I follow other peoples' blogs. I don't always comment; in fact, I rarely comment, but I like to know what's going on in other people's lives. I like to know what is important enough to them to write down and tell those three or four people who might actually remember to read or care about what they have to say.

So here is my new blog.

I guarantee you it will be boring. I guarantee you it will have LONG posts. But you don't have to read if you don't want to. I write for myself.

I love to write. I always have. I remember getting our first computer in seventh grade. I used to sneak and get on that computer in the middle of the night. I only ever had one friend online to chat with, but I would chat with him. Why? I desperately wanted to teach myself to type. I printed out a keyboard that had the correct fingering printed on it, and I typed terribly slowly but MADE myself do it right. I wanted to learn. I wanted to learn right. And now, more than a decade later, I took a typing test for a hiring agency and busted out a whopping 75 wpm with zero mistakes. Now, I had spent the previous week with my friend, Felicia, in Ohio and we had gotten ceramic nails done. Mine were long. I couldn't type worth anything, but still managed to pull out what, to me, was a fairly high score. I wonder what my typing speed would be if I took it without any big ol' long nails on. I don't trust those internet testing sites, but maybe one day I'll be tested for real again.

And so there is my example of how I will type a lot about something that doesn't really mean anything.

Enjoy