Where Have I Been?

So, I've been busy once again. I say it every time I blog. You probably expect to hear it now. You may have stopped reading or even checking this blog - I am just that predictably slackerish. Well, this time I have something to show you that proves my hitherto alleged busyness. Click on the banner and check it out!

 I did it.. finally... I started my own photography business. CHECK THAT OFF THE LIST! Ha, kidding. Clearly, "starting" something doesn't also/always mean "being successful" at it. We all know that a business of any kind takes more hard work, learning lessons the hard way (too bad I already have a habit of this), pain, loss of sleep, possible loss of cash, blood, sweat, and tears than we could ever imagine. So far the Lord is really blessing it. I have watched Him open doors even from the beginning of my thought process about starting it. I constantly give it up to Him and know, deep down, that it isn't worth it to put time and energy into if He isn't leading me and opening the doors. Throwing myself at said doors to try to get them to open will never work. Bottom line: I am not trying to make this a million-dollar-money-maker. YES of course I will put my best foot forward into every ounce of energy I do put into it (I'm too tired for proper grammar - I hope you can forgive me!). At this point, I am moving forward and seeing what God wants to do with it. I'm excited and having fun and trying not to freak out when people actually like my photos, my style, and want me to take their picture. #HELP.

I knew this was well over due, so I wanted to share before falling asleep in my comfy chair. I'm exhausted, so.. goodnight.

Oh... check the blog above frequently... I hope to have new photos up often!

Okay really this time.. Goodnight!

We don't automatically go to God with everything or react to life the way Jesus would simply because we are Christians, saved and transformed by the blood of Jesus. Right? I mean, that's the goal. But the initial act of being saved doesn't suddenly cause us to become as close to humanly and spiritually perfect as we can possibly be on this earth. We have to TRAIN ourselves, consciously and with perseverance. Whaaaaat, you mean God doesn't do all the work? Well yeah, Jesus died on the cross to save us once and for all. And He helps us a ton on the way thereafter. But we have to do our part.

The above excerpt, which I read a few days ago from my favorite devotional ever, (My Utmost For His Highest by Oswald Chambers) struck a chord with me particularly because I was born with a vivid, busy imagination. This is such an amazing reminder to me to continue giving glory to God for each and every thing I see.. to TRAIN myself so that my initial reaction is to go to God. I literally find myself stopping in my tracks on a daily basis to admire His creation... the sky, a flower, an amusing conversation or person, a Starbucks.... you name it. What would happen if I consciously praised God for all of these things, more and more often until it happened naturally all the time? Well, I'd certainly be better trained to go to God when things go south - the second I get angry or am presented with something difficult. This same lesson was confirmed to me again at church this weekend, where pastor Steve talked about training ourselves so that our initial reaction to everything is prayer. When Paul says "pray without ceasing" (1 Thess 5:17), he doesn't mean to be on your knees, with your hands folded and eyes closed, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. CLEARLY being on our knees before is a good thing and something we should do, but literally impossible to do all day long. You've gotta pee and eat, for real. He means - have a constant dialogue with God in your heart and mind. Talk to God, bring all things to God.

I love Chambers' "old time" language. He was around in Scotland during the early 1900's, after all. "Then put a stiletto in the place where you have gone to sleep." A stiletto is a type of dagger (I know this because I am a nerd. Don't judge. Nerds are people too. Cool people. Cool, nerdy people.). So, he's basically saying, WAKE UP. GET UP. LIFT YOUR EYES TO HEAVEN. Don't let yourself become complacent and possibly even miserable if you can't hear God speaking. Remember what God has done in the past. Remember how you have seen Him work in your life and/or those around you. More importantly, remember that you serve the Almighty God and that you BELONG to Him. Remember that He can do anything. Ask Him to prove it to you.

Okay, back to the subject. Someone was supposed to smack me if I started getting preachy. Geesh. Bottom line? I want my reflexive instinct to things on the full spectrum of wonderful and ridiculously difficult to be to GO TO GOD, immediately. Will I ever be perfect? Not on this earth. Faaaar from it. Pathetically far from it. You get the point. I wanted to share this because it was exciting to me to hear of an applicable way to train my instincts away from self, stress, and anger. God is good - I'm thankful on a daily basis that He knows our hearts and has mercy on us! I don't know about you, but I could use a healthy dose of "inexpressibly bright hope", more often than I'd like to admit!

Hope ya'll are having a good week so far! I'm LOVING the sunshine today!

Coffee or Roast Goat?

I simply had to share this quote I found. And put it in a cool looking frame for added drama. I simply refuse to be boring right now. HOWEVER, that is not the point of this particular blog. I'll keep this one short and sweet. 

Mr. Bach and I would have gotten along swimmingly, what with our mutual love for coffee and fugues. It really is time for me to get my Bach books out... I have been practicing classical music again lately and my fingers are itching to play the addictive, recurrent voices of Bach's fugues. I never thought I would say such things. But the day has come that I am ready to practice regularly again. No more 3 hour practice days for me, but my neighborhood will soon be blessed with hearing the sweet, haunting, relatively-out-of-tune, squeaky, wild-west-cantina-piano-sounding tones a lot more often. And in order to not feel (or look, please God) like a dried up piece of roast goat, I will be sure to down an ample share of my morning coffee beforehand. 

Oh Sales People, How Do I Love Thee?

Whether I like it or not, I'll be turning 30 next July. However, I'm not terribly concerned. I am almost certain there has been a mix up of some sort along the way, mainly because I don't feel 30 years old. A mistake at an important milestone, perhaps one of the many hospitals or dmv's I have been in, or possibly a mishap with my birth certificate. There really are any number of things that could have happened, so meanwhile, I will go along with this fake age until the mistake is revealed.

I have had 2 confirmations of my more believable, younger age this week alone. Both happened to be from sales people coming to my door.

1. The first one occurred mid morning, when a window salesman knocked on my door. He looked about my age, young and healthy and entirely too chipper to be selling windows at such an early hour. He had clearly consumed his morning caffeine, of which I was still in the process and could only hope to be as chipper when said caffeine was completely consumed. I answered the door, looking like I had just rolled out of bed. An awesome case of greasy bed head, a disheveled sweat pants/pajama combo, and no make up (save for the smudges of leftover mascara and eyes shadow from the day before) completed my undoubtedly appealing look. I stepped onto the porch, shoving the curious yet protectively barking dogs back into the house. After politely introducing himself and stating his purpose, he spoke those fated words that every almost-30-year-old wants to hear.... "Is your mom home?"

...

I must have looked a little stunned, and it is possible that I stuttered for the remainder of the conversation. I wasn't stunned in a bad way, just an amused way, and definitely a caught-off-guard way. After a few seconds of said stunned amusement I managed, "I AM the mom." Now it was his turn to stutter. He said something to the effect of, "Oh. OH. Oh. I didn't mean anything by that at all, by the way. Those are beautiful dogs. Labs are great. Are those Labs?" Nice try buddy. He was even more shocked when he learned that not only am I the MOM, I am also the homeowner. AND I have a 3 year old daughter (who is now trying to come outside and say hi). The best part is that he tried to save his sales pitch after all that. It took about 5 minutes to get rid of him. "No thank you, I do not want to sign up for a free window estimate. No thank you, I do not want new windows. Yes I know how old and shabby my windows are. Yes I know how much money I am wasting in heating costs every winter as the cold air pours mercilessly in through my old and shabby windows. No, there is not a better time for you to come back next week to once again try to guilt trip me about my old and shabby windows because of which I waste lots of money every winter." I didn't have the sensibility to say these things at the time, considering my stunned state, but I would be ready next time!!

2. The second confirmation of my more believable, younger age came today with another knock at my door.  This time it was a young man and woman selling vacuum cleaners. I thought the age of door-to-door-vacuum-cleaner-sales was over, so I was already amused before they spoke a single word. You know the type. You've seen the demonstrations.

I momentarily pause the recounting of this story to say that until today, I simply was not aware of how mischievous I could be in messing with sales people. Carry on.

It was the girl's first day going door to door. After saying a few quiet words and staring at me with wide, uncertain eyes, she stopped talking altogether and stepped aside, motioning for the clearly more experienced sales guy to continue. I felt a little bad for her because I certainly know how difficult first days-at-the-new-job can be, no matter what the job. They proceeded to persuade me to let them clean a room of carpet in my house for free, and if I agreed, I would get to keep a handy dandy little hand vac just because. Then came the fated question, the words every almost-30-year-old wants to hear... "Are you over 18?"

...

Yep. This time I was ready. There would be no stunned silence, no stuttered words, no long awkward moments. Watch out sales people, you have no idea what you're in for. "Actually, I'm turning 30 next year! And yes, I am the homeowner," I said proudly. Score for me. Their eyes widened but these sales people were good, and they recovered quickly.

I will spare you the details of this one because we would both be here all day, but let me just say two things. 1) I was very clear in telling them that I would NOT be buying anything. I gave no illusions that I would buy a vacuum costing $2289, despite the fact that I could also win an all expense paid vacation and have the cleanest house on the planet for the rest of my breathing days here on earth. It was their choice whether or not to believe me, so 2) I did not feel bad for sending them away with no more money than they came with after TWO full hours of turning down the best sales lines and tactics this side of the Mississippi. "Yes I am aware that my current vacuum might as well be completely broken compared to using your amazing machine from heaven. Yes I am aware that my floors are still somehow chock full of dirt, grime, dust, dog hair, dead skin cells, dust mites, and even worse, oils, excretions, and dead body parts from said dust mites, because my vacuum is not your amazing machine from heaven (insert angelic voices and a blazing beam of light focused on said machine.) Yes I am aware that my darling little girl uses this grime filled carpet as her play ground. No, my husband really would not ask me to buy this amazing machine regardless of how many disgusting, dog-hair-filled filters you leave strewn about my house. No, my husband really wouldn't be thrilled about buying this amazing machine for me for Christmas, whether or not it is from heaven. No, I am not a person that tends toward mediocrity. (His actual words). Yes, I value my time. Yes, I want my time spent cleaning to be used actually making things clean." I gave it right back to him the whole time. I cheerfully agreed with every fact and salesman-like accusation he could throw at me. Clearly I would love to own this amazing machine from heaven, if only 100 dollar bills grew on the trees out back. I let them go on for two hours because I was already having a good day and was made even happier knowing that I look younger than 18. Possibly I also wanted to keep the handy dandy hand vac and get my carpet at least  somewhat cleaned. Perhaps also to prove that I truly did not have $2289 to spare.

Either way. If I'm gonna turn 30 next year, I can at least be happy that I apparently don't look a day over 18. (Regardless of whether or not this is because my uncaffeinated-morning-self may look hung over or because I often don't dress my age.)

There were no sales people harmed in the making of this post.