Insert Your Plans Here

So Mad Libs has been around since the 50s and yet somehow I missed them completely. I'm sure there was some form of an "insert word here" story that I did in school but I don't ever remember having one of these little newspaper booklets to myself.

I sat down in a old brown chair, all comfy in my sweats with the sound of light rain in the background. Hours of contemplating the woes of the world for a class and the daily strain of life had left my minding wanting MUSH for dinner. A brain-break was certainly in order. Realizing this I had thought of the Mad Lib booklet a dear friend had gotten me for my birthday. "Perfect!" was what I assumed. Little did I know, I would realize a great spiritual insight that I'll thinly try to explain here...

Most of us American Christian, myself certainly included, live out our life as if we were filling in the blanks of a Mad Lib story. You see God does have a plan for our lives, just as the essence of the Mad Lib story has already been written before you read it. However, in our lives God has also given us the gift of free will (i.e. the blanks; following me here?) Granted this is a loose metaphor so bare with me...

What's interesting is that we fill in our blanks (literal or otherwise) with choices, desires, and options we think will work. We choose both options we think will be exciting and options we really don't care about any longer because it's the end of the story and we're simply "over it". Sometimes our blanks ask for nouns: material possessions we don't need and people who just don't make any sense. Other times we're asked for a noun: activities we shouldn't have done and actions that again, don't make any sense.

Even though we might not have total control over the whole story we can still direct it. If careful attention is made in each choice I could give a funny, scary, meaningful, crazy or bland theme to my Mad Lib. The beauty is, we make all of these decisions truly unaware of the structure to come and sometimes the result is a pleasant surprise. The twists up and down and corkscrews of life are exciting to say the least. I take comfort in joy in the fact that my story is not governed by Leonard Stern and Roger Price (Mad Lib inventors) but by the Creator of the Universe and my personal Maker.

Just something I've been ___(insert verb here)___ on... :)

Special Event: Movie & Expert Panel Discussion

FREE EVENT

MOVIE NIGHT AND PANEL DISCUSSION

Join us THIS SATURDAY for a showing of

"AT THE END OF SLAVERY"

Produced by International Justice Mission

SATURDAY, JANUARY 30TH

7 - 9 PM

Overlake Christian Church, Small Auditorium

Following will be a panel discussion by representatives from Seattle based organizations and coalitions, including

International Justice Mission

Seattle Against Slavery

Not for Sale

W.A.R.N.

Shared Hope International

Talk with speakers, learn about local efforts and hear about OCC's involvement in this initiative.

A lesson from Mattel

A lesson from Mattel... playing Barbies isn't that bad... the end. (Insert me now running away in shame here...)

Now, I know any of you reading who actually know me personally probably need CPR right now but I promise, hang in here with me! ;) In fact, what I've learned isn't a lesson from our tall, skinny, big-boobed and blond friend, but is instead a lesson from a child while playing dolls. (This seems to be a common theme lately for me.)

I did everything I could to avoid playing dolls when I was a kid. Something about being around "childhood-ness" is making me feel like I'm getting mine back. Further more, it's making me feel like it's OK to want and to have one...meaning, that it's OK to want a childhood that is.

So I recently moved and with that move came the new friendship of a precious 5 year old. It wasn't long into this friendship of our that I realized, "Uh oh... this little girl's about to change my entire world isn't she?..." In that moment I thought I was right and with each passing day it becomes clearer and clearer. All my inhibitions, all my pride that came with dulled-out adulthood seems to slyly slip away when in the presence of her innocence. The world is simple again. I wont go so far as to say it's pure again, but certainly simpler.

Now I can't say that I'm 100% in Barbie's favor. The fact that we imprint our daughters with the mental image that this figure is the standard of beauty irks me. Barbie is not only unrealistic but she is a poor representation of the multi-cultural world we live in. What I do appreciate about dolls in general however is it gives our children reason to use their imagination-- and more than that, it gives them a practical tool in which to dream.

Here I was sitting on the floor, watching my new friend plan out a pleasant afternoon with Barbie, a couple of her closest friends, a horse ride, a formal ball, and of course, a castle. It was a pleasure to watch her dream out loud. Whether she realizes it or not, which I suspect she doesn't, her play-time is reflecting the desires of her heart. I found myself so amused at my newly discovered depth to Mattel that I must have been giving the child a strange look. She begin to tap me on my shoulder, startling me from my thoughts. "Hey... I saaaaid, it's almost time for the ball." She smiles and continues, "And you have to tell me your prince's name."

Oh dear. My prince's name? Now isn't that a question I'd like to know the answer to... :)

New Post Coming Soon

New Blog Post Coming Soon: A Lesson from Mattel

Singing With Elmo

What is it about children that make us come out of our norms? I know it's un-American of me but I've never been a huge fan of Sesame Street. On another topic, I love to sing but it's a stretch and a mile to get me to sing in front of anyone else. Then enters Valentina...

Valentina had the ability to break down inhibitions with her big brown eyes and had me loudly singing the ABC's with Elmo, in public. Even in my striving to "reclaim my childhood" I still find myself often acting like a stuck-up adult, too cool for the simple pleasures of life. Is it though that I'm too cool or that I'm too uncomfortable? I went to order a happy meal the other day and chicken out. Really? Really? Who's going to judge me at that point? The drive through attendant? I am really worried about impressing someone I'll never see again? No. My hesitation in singing with Elmo and a child in the middle of a crowded coffee shop is not from the fear that I was be deducted popularity points. It's instead again that I'll be reminded of what I missed; what I could have had.

Even though Valentina's curls were endearing and her big smile would leave no other's face brightened but it wasn't truly this sweet child that got me singing. It was the realization of the woe-is-me attitude in that moment. I'm sure there's more too it but the thought was enough to tell myself, "Get over it you wimp! Enjoy a child's company and reclaim your own." Satan uses several lies in our lives and it's something I talk about often.

The lie in this moment was this: You didn't sing Elmo in public as a kid and so it'll be too painful to do it now.

How ridiculous is that?! It's amazing what dumb things we allow ourselves to easily believe! Pointing a finger back at myself I say, "Shame on me." I could have missed the opportunity to make that little girl and her family smile. (She's apparently normally shy.) I would have missed the opportunity to have her little self curl up and lay her head on my chest to sleep. I would have missed the love I felt in that moment all because I was being a wimp.

I'll never know why Valentina took to me so rapidly and strongly but I'll be thankful for the lessons she taught me. What a beautiful little girl. Thank You Lord for this little angel you sent me.

Coming Soon!

New blog entry coming soon: Singing With Elmo!

My First Christmas (Retro)

"Jingle, jingle jingle
You will hear my sleigh bells ring
I am old Kris Kringle
I'm the King of Jingling"

"Hannah, you are so weird." I mused, shaking my head.
"What?"
"You and your made up songs!"
She stared at blankly, trying to deduct if I was truly clueless or merely trying to give her a hard time. "It's not made up!" Laughing she continued, "it's from Rudolph."
"That's not the Rudolph song. That song I do know... 'had a very shinny nose'??"
"It's from the movie Rudolph. You know, the cartoon one they always play at Christmas."
It now was my turn to stare blankly. "There's a movie?"
"Oh dear." Hannah laughed and comic exasperation she declared my attendance to her house for Christmas cookies and movies. (Apparently I'd also missed seeing Elf as well and that was just completely unacceptable!)

I joined Hannah and her husband Nick for my first real family Christmas celebration. The cliche of the holiday was wonderful and I feel as if I'm writing a cheesy children's book as I describe it with laughter and scents of cinnamon. But that's how I remember it. A fairly tell dream of sugar plum fairies wouldn't have come any closer to my reality of that day. I know it wasn't a literal Utopia in all actuality but I don't care. I felt so spoiled and so overwhelmed.

Nick and I got into a dough fight while making "monkey bread." Hannah's mom wanted so badly to make these specific cookies for us and she was determined not to give up. I got a silly electronic Sudoku game in the gift exchange. It became my night time saving grace when I moved away a year later. The dog was playing with a toy that went flying through the air and into the kitchen making everyone fall to laughter... Oh, and I got my very own stocking. (You may take the liberty to add a childish grin to my face at this point.)

On the same hand, this was such a difficult day. I remember sneaking away several times just to steal a moment alone. My emotional senses were overloaded and I wasn't sure what to do. Sometimes I'd find an empty room and just sit a moment to breath deeply. Other times I'd let a few tears fall and have to talk myself from running straight out of the house. It was too perfect, too good, too happy and to me that meant the guarantee that something was about to go terribly wrong. The Lord talked me down each time however, almost as if to say, "This is my birthday party remember? Stay a little while longer. I love you and I want you here. Please stay. You can trust Me that it'll end well."

If you believe in Christmas miracles, this family was mine. It's amazing how you can feel so out of place and so at home at the same time. It was a good first Christmas. Clarice the Doe, the Island of Misfit Toys and the actions of a loving family all seem to make a little more sense to me now. Ahh, the lessons of life that can be sparked by a cartoon song...