chasing the sun

i've been watching my neice a lot lately and she's having a hard time adjusting to no longer being the only baby in the family. Instead, she's the oldest grandchild and she hates it when we tell her she's a big girl. Its like she doesn't want the responsibilties that come with growing up.

Come to think of it, they never appealed to me either - 9-5 job, bills, , etc.

But lately I've been drawn more to the grown up life I never thought I wanted...to a career that makes a difference in the world...and a house I can decorate myself with things I bought with my own money...and a grown up relationship with someone who takes me seriously...its a lovely and completely frightening prospect, I know.

My plan to grow up steadily (so as to not send myself and others into complete shock) began a few days ago with the purchase of my brand new swanky purse...but its black with a shiny leather strap and velvety-Asian inspired fabric. And its silly I know, but I was proud of myself not just because I got it for 60% off, but mostly because I felt like for once, instead of opting for the youngish "Hi, I'm still 16" purse, I chose the grown up purse.

I think I don't take myself seriously, and until I do, no one else will - at least not in the way I present myself to the world. I have passion, but until I embrace the reality that I am (deep breath and heavy sigh) 27 years old and not getting any younger, I can never really move into the realm of adults my age and older who are making things happen.

So, I guess what I'm saying, world, is that, although I'm not giving up my flip-flops and tatty Old Navy Jeans and I will definitely still read the final Harry Potter book, even so - I'm ready for you to meet the grown-up me.

Happy Christmas

i debated most of yesterday whether or not to post these next few words. It seems so...not enough to honor one of the best men I have ever known.

When I met my friends Kristi and Kara's dad, I thought he was was the most kind and wonderful dad a girl could have. He loved his family and playing spades and was a good basketball player for a 5'7'' skinny white boy. His name was Les and he was smart - he knew Hebrew and Greek and made me want to study the Bible. If crass, flailing emotionalism was responsible for opening my heart to Christ, then Les' wisdom and in-depth teaching was responsible for opening my mind to God's possibilities.


He had spent the last 12 or so years battling Multiple Sclerosis and he finally succumbed to the disease yesterday. He was 55.

He never missed a chance to tell me how proud he was of me and what I was doing with my life. I valued his high opinion and will try to live up to his hopes for me. He taught me so much more than he ever knew, than I ever told him, but I will continue to pursue truth and look deeper into things close to the heart of God - that was his challenge for me.

I never know what to say because I know nothing anyone says ever makes it better or easier. I know he was sick for a long time and I know he loved Jesus and that I will see him again. What is more, I know his entire family will see him again - and that is the legacy he's left us.