schMORGANsborg

Hanging out with Juma…one of the boys from the street:) He likes macs too:)

You may or may not know that my mom got really sick about a month ago. I’ll spare you the details…mostly because my mom gets on to me when I tell everyone her business:)…but suffice it to say things got pretty scary for a while there. The following is a small selection from a very long list of things I learned through the whole experience.

1. Unlike most people stress doesn’t make me stop eating and sleeping. It actually has the opposite effect on me.  
2. Any delusions I had of independence are…well…delusions. I’ll go ahead and admit that a lot of my thoughts for those two weeks were about how I couldn’t get by without my mom…about how I needed her…for stupid things…like telling me how to get a stain out of a shirt.  
3. The comforts of this life have a far stronger hold on me than I ever realized.  
4. I don’t want to love my Mom-or anything else-more than I love the will of God. That’s a hard one to swallow.
5. Life is truly a vapor.
6. We cling to the strangest things in the face of tragedy.
7. God doesn’t stop being good just because "bad" things happen.
8. Then again, theology has a tendency to fly out the window in the face of death.
9. I’m really glad my bff decided to be a nurse, but even more glad that she can still sit and cry with me when the occasion calls for it.
10. ER, Grey’s Anatomy, General Hospital, etc….they’re all full of crap. Two weeks in the hospital and I saw zero hot doctors. Notta one.

PS my mom is doing much better now:) If you talk to her don’t tell her I told you that was sick:)

you ate a lil red barn biscuit like I did this morning:)

I have a confession to make. I used to resent people who went to Africa. It seemed so cliché.  Like there was some unwritten rule that in order to be a good Christian you had to go to Africa…or at least want to go to Africa. Of course this was also when I had no inclination whatsoever towards any kind of mission work anywhere. It’s strange to read that sentence back to myself. I can hardly remember feeling that way now. I can barely recall not having this burning deep inside of me to see the glory of God cover the earth as water covers the seas. 

Mercifully, things have changed. And, so, one month from today I will leave for Africa. I wish I was leaving today. I wish I had a one way ticket and not just a 10 day trip planned (don’t tell my mom that…she might cry).

Next month four others and myself will be heading to Mozambique to work with Sarah in her ministry to street children there. I have a number of emotions and thoughts running through my mind right now, but the one that overshadows all the others is fear. I’m not afraid of being in danger there. Of getting sick or being robbed or attacked or anything along those lines. The thing I fear…is being unchanged. I’m afraid of looking those children in the face and being unaffected by it. Of coming back home and returning to my everyday life as if nothing had happened. I’m afraid of forgetting what I haven’t even learned yet.

So today I’m praying. Praying to be changed…affected…moved. Praying to remember.       

making a cake…actually making anything for one of the most important days in someone’s life might be a little more stress than I’m prepared to handle. 

I know I’ve mentioned this a time or two, but my bff and I have known each other our entire lives. This has been a huge blessing through the years; however, it’s also lead to certain events that would be better left forgotten.  But instead of pushing those to the back of my psyche and having them resurface in strange, incoherent dreams; I thought I’d blog about ‘em. 

For those of you that don’t know; my bff is a singer. Not professionally, though she could’ve been if she had wanted to.  She has a beautiful voice and it still pleasantly surprises me every time I hear her sing.  She discovered this talent pretty early on. And like any good parent would do her mother signed her up for voice lessons to hone the new found gift. 

I must preface this by saying that she and I had spent our entire lives up to this point doing the same things. Our parents even dressed us alike for pete’s sake.  And we were all about it. If she got a zip up bikini then I needed one too. If I quit ballet cause I hated everything but the recitals then she was outta there too (by the way, she’s still blames me for ruining her dance career). If she had a bedazzled, LA gear, stone-washed jean jacket then by golly I got one too. That being said, there really is no justifiable excuse for what I am about to reveal…..I, too, signed up for voice lessons. I mean obviously if the bff was a singer than I was too. Right?! And Darlene, being the dotting mother that she is, marched my non-singing little butt up there and took care of business. And so began my journey to unearth the talent that I knew was hiding somewhere deep inside of me.

As it turned out that hidden talent was buried a little too deep and we never did find it.  We did, however, record quite a few lovely tracks. One of those beauties was my rendition of The Wind Beneath My Wings by one Bette Midler. I happen to be just self-deprecating enough to want to share it with you, but I think I lost the tape when I moved.

The whole experience wasn’t a total loss, though. I learned that maybe I didn’t have to do everything the bff did…which came in handy when she started doing big girl pageants that included a swimsuit portion. I also learned that my Mom loves me very much…so much, in fact, that to this day she truly believes that I’m a good singer and has, on occasion, told me to try out for American Idol. Thanks for believing in me Mom! Even if it could’ve turned me into a highlight on the American Idol reject show.     

…to say I told you so.  Cause yall were SO right…I had such a good time at the reunion!  Who knew:)

I would love to say that I took lots of pictures so I could tell yall all about the night…but you know better than that.  I didn’t take a single one.  So I jacked everyone else’s off of facebook:)  

Here we go…CGHS c/o 99 10 year reunion as told through the lense of someone else’s camera (click on any of the pictures to make them bigger).

First came the outfit…of which the highlight were my cute shoes…or so I thought.  So. Much. Pain.  Seriously, my feet are still sore. 

There were two parts to this shindig.  Phase one was at Olde Towne Tavern in Larryville.

Phase two was at Door 44 in Atlanta.  There were a lot of people there that didn’t go to Olde Towne so I was glad I went to both.

So there you have it…our night o’ fun.  It really was great to see so many old friends.  Kinda makes me wanna go to the 20 year reunion…kinda:)

Off to the reunion.  If it goes bad I’m holding each of you personally responsible:) 

of our waiter at a restaurant way the heck down 78 being a CGHS alumni?

We had a girls night on Monday and our sweet little waiter went to Central too!  I’m telling you…it’s all about high school this month.

He wanted to know what teachers we had when we were at Central to see if he knew any of them.

Then we explained that the people we went to school with are the teachers now.

10 years out and we’re runnin’ the place.

Let’s all take a nice stroll down memory lane.

10 years ago I had dome bangs, blonde hair and eyebrows the likes of which I hope to never see again.

And just for fun this is me and B.Green at our freshman homecoming.

Sorry Brian…you’re bearing the brunt of my bloggy flashback today:)

I give.  It would appear that my fear of missing out on something supersedes my fear of awkward conversation. 

Sooooo…..apparently my 10 year high school reunion is coming up.  I currently have no plans to go.  It’s not that I don’t like the people I went to high school with…I do.  It’s just that…well…I’m shy people!  Social situations are not my strong suit.  Small talk is not my forte.  Cramming 10 years of life into a 2 minute conversation is not my gift.  You get the picture, right?

Ever since I was a lil bitty ol’ thang runnin’ around in overalls…actually my mom didn’t dress me in overalls.  Unless you count our end of the year performance in preschool where we sang I’ve Been Workin’ On The Railroad.  We had to wear overalls that night…and a handkerchief around our neck…cause we were workin’ on the railroad.  And actually a girl I went to high school with was in my preschool class and she puked off the side of the stage right smack in the middle of workin’ on the railroad.  She says she doesn’t remember that, but Tanaya and I do.  Annnnnyway.  The point I was trying to make was that I’ve always been shy.  I don’t particularly care for that trait, but it’s there none the less.  So the thought of an entire night spent making conversation with people that I don’t really know anymore stresses me out.  And since we’re being honest I can only handle being awwww-ed in response to my marital status so many times before I lose it:)  

I’ve already been catching a bunch of flack for not going, but I thought I’d put it to the people to decide.  Whatcha think?  Will I regret not going to my 10 year reunion?      

Last week me and my mom went to the Fox to see The Jersey Boys.  I got her tickets to the show for Christmas…I’m all about deferred gratification.  The show was SO good and we had such a good time!  It’s still showing…you should take someone for an early Christmas present:)

Behold yet another fine display of my ability to capture memories.  I astound myself…really. 

the worst picture taker on the face of the earth!

I spent most of Memorial Day weekend hanging out in South Carolina with Amanda, David and the fam.  We had tons o’ fun.  Went to a little festival in downtown Seneca, went to their cool church, rode jet skis.  But do I have any fun pictures of those things?  Negative.  Behold my one documentation of the weekend…

Good one right?  You really get a feel for everything we did just by looking at this solitary photo.  And don’t be fooled…this takes a lot of practice.  Not everyone can capture the awesomeness of an entire trip in just one picture.  Mama always said I was special.

I just saw some app on facebook that reminded me of something I used to LOVE when I was a kid…garbage pail kids!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I collected these in my sticker book right along side my unicorn and Lisa Frank stickers.  Interesting dichotomy there, but we’ll save that therapy session for another time.

These are a few that I distinctly remember having:)

Tom Thumb was my favorite…cause I sucked my thumb when I was little…and us thumb suckers stick together.

While I found these stickers hilariously cute; I find this trailer for a Garbage Pail Kids Movie very disturbing.  I had no idea this even existed.  Good thing…I think it would’ve given me nightmares back in my thumb sucking days.

when I used to update my blog everyday?  Those were the good ole days huh?

I went to see one of my friends last night who just had a precious little girl.  Actually she had her a few weeks ago, but I’m a bad friend and just got over there to see them for the first time last night.  They also have an almost two year old little boy who told me no less than 355 times about how he does NOT like the big cows at Chickfila.  
Annnnywho…after dinner we moved into the living room and he started running in circles around the chair I was sitting in.  About 10 laps into his marathon he paused right in front of me.  I figured he was catching his breath…or maybe regaining his balance…or pausing to relive the horror of the Chickfila cows.  But then he ripped one right on my leg and all those theories flew out the window.  After he finished marking his territory he resumed his circles around my chair.  Nice one kid…preciate that:)   

I’ve told yall my story before, but here it is again…in a different way. 

Wandering in the dark
wondering who cared
cowering in the corner
a child scared.

So I put on my mask
played the part
a perfect cheerleader
with a hidden and bleeding heart.

Blind but not knowing
cause I’d never seen
dead but not caring
cause I’d never breathed.

Drink it down
smoke it up
trying
just to be cool enough.

Dating this boy and that boy
on down the line
giving away pieces
of something that wasn’t mine.

Don’t get me wrong
it was all great fun
but at the end of the day
I just wanted life to be done.

And then it was
not for me but for her
and something
inside of me started to stir.

Slowly
but all at once
in an instant
but taking months.  

A light broke through
I could see
first his perfection
then my need.

Compared to him
I was so unclean
what made me think
I could stand before a king?

So I knelt before him
even that not from me
then he did something
interesting.

He stepped down from his throne
put his robe on my back
instantly filling up
everything I lacked.

Amazing grace
that I can’t put into words
something I’d been told
yet never heard.

From that point on
things were different
not easier
but now I was confident. 

I knew what I was here for
knew who’s I was
I knew he loved me
cause his word says he does.

I love to think about that time
so many years ago
and when the darkness tries to sneak back in
this I know

I was chosen
before the foundation of the earth
and neither my works nor my sanity
give me my worth.

The king gives me my worth
the one from back then
and he’ll always be
cause he’s always been. 

For Mother’s Day my mom wanted red velvet cupcakes.  I’ve tried ten million different recipes and they all end up being pretty dry.  I’ve added more oil and that helps, but then after about a day they taste…oily.  What to do?  What to do?

A Christian woman does not put her hope in her husband, or in getting a husband.  She does not put her hope in her looks or her intelligence or her creativity.  She puts her hope in the promises of God.  She is described in Proverbs 31:25 "Strength and dignity are her clothing and she laughs at the time to come."  She laughs at everything the future could bring because she hopes in God.
She looks away from the troubles and miseries and obstacles of life that seem to make the future bleak, and she focuses her attention on the sovereign power and love of God who rules in heaven and does on earth whatever he pleases.  She knows her bible, and she knows her theology of the sovereignty of God, and she knows his promise that he will be with her and will help her and strengthen her no matter what.  This is the deep, unshakable root of Christian womanhood.

-John Piper