I’m Aging & I Like It

I was 22 when I married Brandon. I was glad I was 22 because 21 sounded so young. At 22 the world started giving me more respect, which is why I’m desperately awaiting 30. I think 30 will be the best year of my life because people will stop considering me young and unable to understand the way the world really works. At 30 I will be, in the world’s eye, mature and savvy and able to initiate change without the stigma of idealistic youth hovering over my head like the storm clouds that appear over grumpy cartoons.


Age is such a funny thing anyway. I have a hard time keeping track of how old I am. I forget a lot but I think that’s because I’m so focused on reaching a full 3 decades. Thirty sounds nice, like I’ll have more things figured out by then.


When I was in elementary school, I envied college students. Instead of latchkey, my after school program was watching Gilligan’s Island reruns and eating kiwi with my grandma.


Every day on the walk to her house I passed the dorm rooms of Capital University, also known as my grandmother’s parking nemesis. While she complained about the cars taking over her street, I dreamed of a professor seeing me and thinking, that girl has talent. From there I became a famous singer or movie star. Either was fine with me. I thought: if only I could get to be 20… or 19 (I would settle for 19), then people would respect me.


What is it about me that I seem to always be looking ahead? For me, contentment is never found in the now, it lives in the future. I wonder, are we all wired that way?

Honestly Looking for Candor

My grandparents are (part) Macedonian so I grew up calling them Baba (Grandma) and Dedo (Grandpa). Sundays were big family dinners where the entire family gathered, ate, and drank. Holidays- especially Christmas- were always full of loud family and lots of presents (which sometimes came from my neon pink lipstick wearing, white hair teasing, always sweating and cussing great aunt who only shopped at garage sales).

One Christmas stands out. It was the first year that Brandon had entered the scene with the family and he sat quietly observing. I opened a box with a sweater (designed for someone decades older than I) neatly folded inside of white tissue paper, held the sweater up, and said something to the effect of: It’s okay, but it’s not my style. Baba, who had purchased the gift, said, Okay, I’ll get you the receipt then you can find something else. Conversation over. No hard feelings.
As Brandon and I recapped the night, he asked about that exchange. He couldn’t believe what I had said to my grandmother. I couldn’t believe he thought my words were too honest. And that’s when I realized that most families don’t operate under the premise of that kind of candor.
In our family, my brother and I have always been encouraged to speak directly and honestly. There was not a lot of room for false fluff and if you wanted to really get in trouble with my parents, all you had to do was lie.
Now that I’m an adult and functioning in the real world, I’ve come to the conclusion that the honesty-candor-directness that was common in my childhood home, is something that not everyone is used to (or comfortable with for that matter). I’m not interested in changing the value of ‘saying what you mean’ but, over the years I’ve had to learn how to use softer language and ‘cushion’ my words.
Actually, I think that a lot of relationships could use a shot of directness to sharpen each other. The relationships I’m looking for are with honest people who speak truth to me, even when the truth puts a spotlight on unsightly personality warts. Growth happens when we’re challenged in new ways and I hope that each of us has a few ‘challenging’ friends along the way. Here’s to growing yourself so you can change the world someday.

Honestly Looking for Candor

My grandparents are (part) Macedonian so I grew up calling them Baba (Grandma) and Dedo (Grandpa). Sundays were big family dinners where the entire family gathered, ate, and drank. Holidays- especially Christmas- were always full of loud family and lots of presents (which sometimes came from my neon pink lipstick wearing, white hair teasing, always sweating and cussing great aunt who only shopped at garage sales).


One Christmas stands out. It was the first year that Brandon had entered the scene with the family and he sat quietly observing. I opened a box with a sweater (designed for someone decades older than I) neatly folded inside of white tissue paper, held the sweater up, and said something to the effect of: It’s okay, but it’s not my style. Baba, who had purchased the gift, said, Okay, I’ll get you the receipt then you can find something else. Conversation over. No hard feelings.

As Brandon and I recapped the night, he asked about that exchange. He couldn’t believe what I had said to my grandmother. I couldn’t believe he thought my words were too honest. And that’s when I realized that most families don’t operate under the premise of that kind of candor.

In our family, my brother and I have always been encouraged to speak directly and honestly. There was not a lot of room for false fluff and if you wanted to really get in trouble with my parents, all you had to do was lie.

Now that I’m an adult and functioning in the real world, I’ve come to the conclusion that the honesty-candor-directness that was common in my childhood home, is something that not everyone is used to (or comfortable with for that matter). I’m not interested in changing the value of ‘saying what you mean’ but, over the years I’ve had to learn how to use softer language and ‘cushion’ my words.

Actually, I think that a lot of relationships could use a shot of directness to sharpen each other. The relationships I’m looking for are with honest people who speak truth to me, even when the truth puts a spotlight on unsightly personality warts. Growth happens when we’re challenged in new ways and I hope that each of us has a few ‘challenging’ friends along the way. Here’s to growing yourself so you can change the world someday.

Intentionally Making Room

I’m in a good place today. My thoughts are clear and walking through the fog is well, less… foggy. Is this what happens when I take time to care of my soul? Amazing. I haven’t spent a lot of time pondering my soul until recently (thanks to a ‘soul care’ friend ;).

I guess I’ve been kind of fragile. I’ve been like a cracked light bulb still trying to give off light but the light has been fragmented and dull. I want to be bright. Brighter.
Intentionality helps things change and change happens when you decide to change. I think change might be that simple. People will always go to what they know and what’s comfortable unless they decide to be different. So, I’m intentionally doing things that make my light brighter:
> Running- Because it makes me focus on goals beyond work. (Let the records show that I ran 11 miles today and lived to tell about it.)
> Writing- Because it gives me language to my thoughts.
> Photography- Because it’s fun, even if I’m no good at it.

Intentionally Making Room

I’m in a good place today. My thoughts are clear and walking through the fog is well, less… foggy. Is this what happens when I take time to care of my soul? Amazing. I haven’t spent a lot of time pondering my soul until recently (thanks to a ‘soul care’ friend ;).

I guess I’ve been kind of fragile. I’ve been like a cracked light bulb still trying to give off light but the light has been fragmented and dull. I want to be bright. Brighter.
Intentionality helps things change and change happens when you decide to change. I think change might be that simple. People will always go to what they know and what’s comfortable unless they decide to be different. So, I’m intentionally doing things that make my light brighter:
> Running- Because it makes me focus on goals beyond work. (Let the records show that I ran 11 miles today and lived to tell about it.)
> Writing- Because it gives me language to my thoughts.
> Photography- Because it’s fun, even if I’m no good at it.

Once Upon A Time…

Once upon a time I met Brandon and fell in love.
Today marks the 6th year of our wedding day.
Still love struck by him.

Once Upon A Time…

Once upon a time I met Brandon and fell in love.
Today marks the 6th year of our wedding day.
Still love struck by him.

The Fastest Days of 2010

The fastest two days of this year flew by. I was caught in a weird time warp where I was moving as fast as I could to get to the Summit… and then like at&t’s service, drop. The Summit was over. Eight months of preparing came down to 2 days of fast paced setting up, checking details, and then tearing down. It was like preparing for a oversized birthday party but never eating cake.

Like a cake-less balloon-less birthday party, I’m deflated. But instead of moping along all stretched out and shrively, I’m going to actively pursue what gives me life.
At the Summit, Christine Caine said, “Hope is a leader’s oxygen.” I’m not sure if that’s the oxygen I’m looking for but it’s a good start. I’ll start with hope.
I have hope that whatever comes my way, I can get through it. I have hope that people are intrinsically good (even though there might be some tough ones). I have hope that God has placed the ‘right’ people in my life to help me get through awkward and difficult times.
What is your oxygen?

The Fastest Days of 2010

The fastest two days of this year flew by. I was caught in a weird time warp where I was moving as fast as I could to get to the Summit… and then like at&t’s service, drop. The Summit was over. Eight months of preparing came down to 2 days of fast paced setting up, checking details, and then tearing down. It was like preparing for a oversized birthday party but never eating cake.

Like a cake-less balloon-less birthday party, I’m deflated. But instead of moping along all stretched out and shrively, I’m going to actively pursue what gives me life.
At the Summit, Christine Caine said, “Hope is a leader’s oxygen.” I’m not sure if that’s the oxygen I’m looking for but it’s a good start. I’ll start with hope.
I have hope that whatever comes my way, I can get through it. I have hope that people are intrinsically good (even though there might be some tough ones). I have hope that God has placed the ‘right’ people in my life to help me get through awkward and difficult times.
What is your oxygen?

Suffocating Fog

This morning I woke up at 3:30am (well actually 3:38am) to make it to Rockford, IL – for a triathlon- for Brandon. Love that man. The morning had thick air that the moon could not glow through and the roads were covered in a frothy fog. There were gaps where you could see into the dark cornfields but mostly, visibility was less than the headlights dimed by the consuming early morning air.
Thanks clouds and humidity for the obvious metaphor.
Some problems seem unfocused because of the fog that surrounds them. Answers are not clear. There are glimmers along the way that remind me of what’s ahead but I’m constantly pushing back the fog.
Is it better to pretend the fog is not there and zero visibility is the new reality? Or- is there a way to live (preferably healthy) in the suffocating fog?