Thursday, September 25, 2008

An Open Letter to My Facebook Friends

Dear people who live on facebook.com:

No, I am not signed up. This does not mean my US citizenship has been revoked or that I'm turning into a hermit, or that I've forgotten my friends of yesteryear. 

Doesn't mean any of that.

I've received your multiple invitations, and your emails, and your "I think you're the only one not on Facebook" exhortations. Due to the tide swell of invites and the multiple conversations I've had about facebook, I've considered signing on.

Wouldn't it be fun, I've thought, to see what old classmates/boyfriends/roommates are doing now? I'd really like to hear from some old friends. And I haven't entirely ruled out becoming a member of facebook at some point in my life. It would be something to pass the time if I were bed-ridden, for instance. :)

But right now, I'm afraid that facebook would suck me in like a vacuum cleaner, beckoning me into constant online conversations and frankly, wasting my time. I'm already good at wasting time (sometimes on this blog!) and so I've resisted the grand, loud and insistent facebook vortex.

I have just said no...for now. But that doesn't mean I don't love you, people. Seriously. If you'd like to convince me otherwise about facebook, I'm opening myself up to your honest, heartfelt feedback.

Post below. Let's here from you on why you love or hate facebook!

Cheers.



 

Sunday, September 21, 2008

"One big and painful red pimple" or "Why in the world am I so vain?"

OK, so I knew the title of this post would get you reading. Forgive me for having a marketing background for a minute, would ya?

And now back to the big, painful, bump of a red pimple on my chin. It's true, I don't normally blog about such things--hey, at least I spared you a picture! Ha! Stick with me here...there's a point to this post.

Yesterday I noticed that what was just a smidge of oil on the left of my chin had turned into a monster. OK, maybe I'm slightly overexaggerating, but it was the pain that first alerted me to this big red dot. I tried to kill the dastardly thing overnight with a swab of apple cider vinegar, but it would not be felled. This morning, as I squinted while re-examining this piece of work in the mirror, the big ugly thing stared back at me. It took a fair amount of mineral makeup to make the big bump "flesh-colored" as opposed to "flaming red." 

But honestly, I shrugged it off on my way to church as no big deal. It hasn't been as big a deal, to be honest, since I hit my 30s. But just before book club tonight I did something I try not to do: for some reason, I told myself maybe I should just skip book club because of this painful red bump on my chin. Yes, I actually had this stupid thought. And I am not 13 or even 23. (Fortunately, I quickly got over it and went anyway.)

I had these thoughts because I am human, and female, and many times, much too obsessed about the image I'm presenting to the outside world. Too often, I buy into the hoopla all that advertising tries to manufacture in my brain that what I am is not quite enough.

Can you relate to any of the following thoughts/comments?
* "I wonder if he or she can see my roots while we're talking, because I know I have at least 4 or 5 more grays..."
* "If I just found the right brand/fit of clothes, I just know I'd look more curvy, slimmer, classy, sexy, polished, or more like Jennifer Aniston. If only.... (sigh)"
* "Thanks, everyone tells me I have nice eyes, but really, it's just because I wear colored contacts..." or "You like this old thing? You don't think it makes me look (fill-in-the-blank) fat, old, too eager, too dressy, too much like Nancy Grace?"
* "When I get rid of my ... extra 30 pounds, or my acne, or my big nose, or my lopsided ears, or my crooked teeth, or my age spots, or my ugly [you-name-the-body-part], I'll feel loads better about myself and life will be good."
* "If I start to improve myself, I might, somehow, one day, attract a man I want to date or marry."

I'll stop here, although I could go on. Glamour, and even Redbook and Woman's Day have sold us the idea that physical perfection is a worthy goal. And as a result, we just can't get over ourselves. I'll admit it: I can be totally consumed with what I perceive to be my own inadequacies. I can be a self-improvement junkie. Even though I'd really love to call myself low-maintenance, I use Neutrogena nighttime cream as one of my final bedtime rituals, and Neutrogena daytime lotion before I can think about starting my day. And those are only two of the personal products that keep me prepared for the world, my friends. I'd actually be embarrassed to go through my list.

If I let myself, I can have this terrible habit of being alternately obsessed with my looks and how to improve them, or self-effacing and negative when presented with a compliment. (For instance, I wanted to believe David's aunt when she told me I had a beautiful smile a few weeks ago, but I told myself she didn't see the crooked teeth hiding in my mouth.)

And, don't you see, friends, that either choice comes from pride and self-addiction? The truth is, I need to get over myself. And when I make this choice, and see myself like God sees me, I smile. And I relax and feel warm inside; I know I have something that is valuable to my Creator, and it has nothing to do with how much I weigh or how many pimples might or might not pop up on my chin.

It's all about the beauty found in Psalm 139, this one particular psalm in the Bible, and how God created me, knows me, values me, and protects me. And suddenly, when I am secure in a love that transcends any physical limitation or anxiety, it's not about me anymore. It's about me loving people around me in a deeper way--no matter what they look like. It's so much closer to the way God thinks, even though I still have a long way to go.

Sometimes you meet people who remind you so clearly and definitively about how God feels about each of us. And my dear friends' daughter Angie is one of these people. Once an athletic and social 17-year-old, a car accident put her in a special chair and for now, has taken her ability to speak. But on the other hand, she communicates a lot. Each time I see her, her whole face lights up in a smile that is hard to describe beyond the words "pure and lovely." Her whole being radiates this delightful peace and joy that she shares with everyone who meets her. God's heart shines through her and reminds me that I can rest in His love, and let go of my self-addiction, and really start to believe that each of us, just as we are, are infinitely treasured in all our uniqueness.

When we realize this is true of us, we can start to see others in the same way, too. And we can say "so what" to one really painful red pimple--or any other thing standing between us and discovering how to choose a life of love instead. We can forget about ourselves more often and say an honest "thank you" when someone pays us a compliment. And the side benefit of believing what God says about us is that it creates a rare inner beauty in today's world--a quality that many around us are drawn to like moths to a flame.

I don't know about you, but when I'm honest with myself, I'd choose the inner beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit anyday. 

Thoughts?



Friday, September 19, 2008

My Birthin'day


Today I am 36 years old. David calls it my birthin'day.

This morning, half-dazed and wiping the sleep out of my eyes, I stumbled into the bathroom and noticed something unusual. I saw a gift bag sitting on the sink with a beautiful card from my husband (Some days I still can't believe I have a husband). And the card had the word "Love" written on the front of it.

This is when the following hit me:

1. Today is your birthday and you are 36.
2. About five months ago, you married David and moved away from everything to be with him.
3. Your wonderful husband calls you "Love," and expresses his love in a million other ways, too.
4. Life might be short, but God is always up to something new.


OK, so it took awhile for me to have all these thoughts, but come they did. And as the morning progresses, as I think about all that is happening in my life, I want to do something with significance today--anything. This is because today I am 36, and in what will seem like tomorrow, I will be 46; then suddenly 56, and so on.

Life moves by at a steady clip, and there is no revisiting yesterday. Only pressing on toward what is ahead, as Paul stressed in the book of Phillippians.

You find out how grateful you are for a parent when he quite quickly dies of cancer. You discover how much your health and vitality mean to you when they are snatched away and then restored. You understand how important the daily work of your hands and your heart is, when your life takes a completely new turn, when you realize you must do the thing God has placed on your heart, or your soul will shrivel.

Time here on earth is finite, and I don't want to waste it on unnecessary email, extravagant clothes, or even well-prepared meals. Any of these things can be fine, if they are not a distraction from the bigger thing: Jesus came with a mission of love to save me out of my self-addiction. He did this precisely so that I might know his love and inhabit it. So I can own the privilege of sharing His love with others daily.

Ephesians 5:16 is that famous Bible verse that talks about "redeeming the time." One of my favorite music artists, Chris Rice, may have illustrated this point most clearly in his song "Tick-Tock":

Got our heels dug in
But time is draggin' us toward
The time when time won't matter anymore
They say life is but a vapor
Just a blip on a radar screen
Not the dates on your tombstone
But the dash in between
There's just today, that's all we got
There's just today, that's all we got

Tick-tock, the past is locked
The future's far away
You can't go back, you can't hurry it up
You gotta learn to live today
Tick-tock, it's now o'clock
The little hand is ours
The second hand sweeps us around
And the Big Hand has the power
The Big Hand has the power

Well am I livin' or am I dyin'
Will the world get another day?
I hear a baby cryin', and I pluck out another gray
I'm always talkin' about a change
But talkin's all I've done
I'm gonna start tomorrow
But tomorrow never comes
There's just today, that's all we got
There's just today, that's all we got


Funny, as I pasted these lyrics in, I began to hear the tick-tock of the wall clock in our kitchen. A reminder that I must get up off this couch and start redeeming some time. 

Cheers...


Tuesday, September 16, 2008

A Spacious Place

He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me.
Psalm 18:19

Girl-time
Just this last weekend, my friend, Brenda, was visiting from Michigan.  We sat on our navy blue leather couch, settling in for a deep heart-to-heart chat, sharing about the movement of God in our lives.

I was quite sobered to realize that the above verse, the one I have prayed for myself, for my mom and also for my dad, has quite literally come true in my life before my eyes; the promise in this verse is now as real to me as the warm oatmeal I consume for breakfast, or the book I hold in my hand. It seems fully materialized in my life. Friends, I am in a spacious place!

Undesired answers to prayer
Some of you may remember that I prayed the above verse out loud over my dad's life countless times before he died of cancer. His dying process was an 8-month journey for us. Two to four months in, his spacious place looked less like a long life, and more and more like a heavenly one. Oh, his spacious place would be glorious alright--but it would mean separation from those he loved. I knew in my heart it was his family who would suffer the loss, not him. He would be rescued because God delighted in him. And so he was. He was ready for his heavenly home at least three weeks before his spirit left this earth. And he talked of heaven with fondness, wistfulness, and finally, peace.

Oh, the joy and the sadness. To this day, 15 months later, I still burst out in tears from time to time. A spacious place, my friends, does not preclude sadness. Oh, no. This temporary separation from my dad stings, and it reminds me of heaven. It stares me in the face daily, repeating, "Heaven is a real place...the place you were made for."

Desired answers to prayer
Has your heart ever been "to-the-touch" tender about some deep desire? So tender, in fact, that you sometimes try to ignore the voice that speaks of the desire, to forget it exists? Been there, done that.

Several years ago, I started a photo frame with about eight openings. I was going to be flat-out honest with God about my tired desires. Those that remained unfulfilled. It was a bold thing to do, me wanting to hang it in my work office and all, but it never got hung, due to the fact that I never found all the pictures I was looking for.

Here was the gist: I would hang a pic of intertwined elderly hands, to signify my burning desire for a lifelong mate, even though I had no prospects on the horizon in my 30s. I would hang a black and white picture of my niece's tiny feet, to symbolize my desire for children, even though my biological clock was ticking faster and faster. There was a picture of a dolphin, as I have had a lifelong dream to swim with one. I had a picture of a sunset already placed in the frame, too; it was the Ludington beach, and it symbolized the beauty and tranquility of heaven to me; the place I would one day be forever. You get the idea...it was my heart served up on a photo frame. The idea was magical and beautiful to me; it was equally as painful.

Sometimes you stop praying for the things you desire the most; it gets too hard, and you are so afraid of another year of disappointment. We do this, I think, because we lose sight of God's goodness; we easily forget that He is being good even when we don't have what we ask for. That, quite frankly, He is supplying our needs, and He is working on our behalf, even when we don't "feel" we are tasting of his goodness.

Such was the case for me at times, for sure.

This place is spacious and different
Who would have known, even 15 months ago, that David and I would fall in love? Who could have predicted that the decision to leave my job, my friends, my church, my everything, in Michigan would have been an easy one? (Even though I knew I'd miss my friends dearly.)Who'd a thunk it? Not me, no, not me. There were many days and nights where the dream of a loving, Godly mate, seemed forever out of reach.

And then this whole story happened to me, to us. It was the sort of thing where you start to get to know a guy, and you try to peer into his heart, to get a good look, to make sure he has a good, if imperfect heart. And David was doing the same, honestly; he was assessing me for possible wife material. The only way any of this worked is that each of us had decided to keep our hearts open to the possibility that even though we had waited a really long time on this one desire, God just might want to step in and fulfill it. We were each waving a flag of "hope," and hoping on hope that God just might do something amazing.

And I have to tell you, God did! Have you ever read the proverb, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick."? Well, this was exactly the opposite of that--hope granted after a long wait makes the heart entirely, completely grateful and amazed.

Where to from here, God?
Sometimes David will wrap his arms around me or even just grab my hand, and I will get misty-eyed. I cannot get enough of his affection after going for so many years as an affection-starved single. To tell the truth, I cannot get enough of this one blessing in my life--I may be complacent about it someday, but not just yet. I'm drinking it in like a tall, cool glass of water on a hot, dusty day.

And I am thanking God for this spacious place. I'm thanking him for rescuing me out of depression and for propping me up and holding me fast as my dad's physical pain propelled him toward heaven. I'm thanking him for the way He is sustaining my brave mother. I'm down on my face, loving on God, thanking him for the blessing of David and all the newness it has brought to my life.

But many days I'm also asking, "Where to from here, Lord?" "What is it you want from us?" And God is answering, albeit slowly, and sometimes not on my time schedule. And I am learning to be OK with the "in-betweenness" of it all. I say I am LEARNING, because some days I'm just impatient.

A few months ago, I looked into applying to be a part-time workplace chaplain in our area, even though it did seem like a bit of a long shot, to be honest. But inside me has been a burning desire to share Jesus's love in a one-on-one sort of way. So I was putting out this fleece, asking God to show me if he might use me in this way.

And now, a few months later, God has answered with  a "yes!" In a few weeks, I will be trained to be a backup chaplain, assisting chaplains who are already in our area. And as more companies request chaplaincy help in our area, they are hoping to place me in a part-time position.

Oh, I'm humbled about this. For a day or two, I was even a little bamfuzzled about it, as my southern friend would say. But all that God's been doing, all he's been teaching me and leading me to discover, might just have prepared me for such a ministry as this.


Thank you, Father, for this spacious place. As thankful as I am for all You've provided, I'm even more thankful to have experienced Your goodness in both the difficult, painful times and the beautiful, joy-filled times. Thank you for loving me well and abundantly; help me to share your love with others lavishly, to give unselfishly, and to show off your heart towards us unceasingly. 

Thursday, September 04, 2008

The story of tomatoes

We have a big, hairy, organic, overgrown, beautiful and bountiful tomato patch in our backyard. See what I mean?

Sometimes, when I'm leaning in through all that vegetation to grab a big, juicy one, I have to be extra careful I don't fall in. David might never find me again amidst all those vines. And since we've only been married like four months or something, you have to agree that would be a crying shame.

As for varieties in this monstrosity of red and greenness, we've got:

Roma? Check.
Beefsteak? Oh, yeah...

Heirloom grape tomatoes? You betcha.

I'm always amazed at how seeds turn to vines, turn to green tomatoes, turned to big, ripe, red, juicy ones. From the backyard to our table, we've been feasting on some of the finest-tasting tomatoes you'll find anywhere.

In fact, we practically have tomatoes coming out of our ears and our windowsills, friends.
I'd LOVE to share some with you personally, not virtually, but since we're not next-door neighbors, I'll do the next best thing...I'll share with ya a fresh roasted tomato sauce recipe from our darling of a cookbook, The Weight Watchers New Complete Cookbook. Don't think low-fat now, think flavor.

Roasted Tomato Sauce
Makes 5 servings
*3 pounds (about 18) plum tomatoes, cut in fourths lengthwise
*1 large Vidalia onion, halved lengthwise, then sliced crosswise
*1 Tablespoon balsamic vinegar
*3 garlic  cloves, minced (I used 5 or 6 cloves)
*3/4 teaspoon salt
*1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
1. Adjust racks to divide oven in thirds. Preheat to 375. Spray 2 large nonstick baking pans with olive-oil nonstick spray. (or just spread olive oil in the pan)
2. Arrange the tomatoes and onion in single layers. Sprinkle with vinegar, garlic, salt and pepper, then spray lightly with nonstick spray. Roast, switching the pans from one shelf to the other halfway through, until the tomatoes and onion are lightly browned and have an intense, sweet aroma, 50-55 minutes. Transfer to blender or food processor; pulse until the mixture is combined but still a bit chunky.

Suzie's note: basil and more seasoning wouldn't be bad; if you can spare extra fat, you might add a bit of olive oil in the blender along with the possibility of a bit more salt, if you aren't watching your sodium.

And here's what it looks like:

Mmmm.

Whirr.


Piping hot, fresh roasted tomato flavor. One 2 cup serving for the fridge, and one for the freezer.

And while I'd love to get into the story of our peppers, times a-wasting. Talk to you later.

Tuesday, September 02, 2008

Blogmania: Suzie says hello to international visitors

Color me excited--I just discovered that folks have been visiting my blog from Australia, Kenya, the Bahamas, and the UK. (Not to worry, I have no idea who you are...I can just see I got a visit from your city/country.)

Welcome, international friends. And please forgive my myopic all-American perspective on life. I love Jesus, and dear friends and family, books of all kinds, dark chocolate, and almost any kind of music. In short, I love exploring and living life to its fullest.

Enough about me, though...I'd like to hear about you. International friends, please comment and tell us about yourselves!

Monday, September 01, 2008

Fall into Organizing (free charts attached!)

September 1 is here. And as the calendar turns over a new month, my urge to organize begins to rise. To help us all in this quest, feel free to download the attached "birthday organizer" list and the "cleaning chart," courtesy of our well-organized friends at realsimple.com.

FREE ORGANIZING CHARTS TO DOWNLOAD:
www.realsimple.com/birthday
www.realsimple.com/cleanchart

And tomorrow the house gets swept, swifferized, dusted, vacuumed, and generally cleaned from top to bottom, including the cobwebs in the corners. And, ah, the smell of lemon and orange after a day of cleaning from A-Z. Long may tidiness and order reign!