Blizzard!

Yesterday’s blizzard dumped more than a foot of snow on Colorado Springs, closing schools, businesses, and interstates. The snow started falling around 4 a.m., and many didn’t believe the forecasted storm would actually materialize.
Personally, I was elated to see a winter wonderland outside my window when I woke up. I spent the day reading, writing, practicing the harmonica, then the evening playing with friends. We went sledding, then roasted bratwurst and s’mores, and played cards.
Today, after a delayed start, I'm back at work. Here's the view from our break room. Looks like half a double-stuffed oreo! Now it's sunny and 50+ degrees. Crazy Colorado weather--I love it!

Go forth, and conquer!

Do you tend to avoid doing things you don’t think you’re good at?

Is there something you’ve wanted to learn or do, but haven’t because you don’t think you have an innate gift for it?

I tend to dislike doing activities in which I don’t exceed, but I must realize that in order to get good at something, one must first do that thing—over and over and over again.

“Research has shown that self-discipline and practice play a larger part in academic success than talent,” I recently read.

Music is not my gift or talent, but I’ve decided to learn the harmonica. I’ve always wanted to play an instrument—especially one that’s portable that can be shared next to a campfire, for example.

Adults face these obstacles to learning something new:
1. they don’t have much time to devote to a new activity
2. they’re often tired
3. they have a lot of naysayers or lack of support in their lives

Which is most likely to stop you? How can you overcome those obstacles?
For me it’s time. I can likely overcome a perceived lack of time by making a priority out of learning this new skill, setting reachable goals (practice 20 minutes twice a week) and having someone to hold me accountable to it.

What do you want to learn/do/play/acquire? What’s holding you back?

Toe update

Thanks for the concern over my silly little toe. I don’t think it’s broken. Up to this point, I’ve never broken a bone (knock on wood and pray for more grace), so I’m not really sure what it would feel like. If broken, I don’t think I would’ve been able to:
1. square dance on Friday
2. hike The Incline Saturday
3. swing dance on Sunday
I’m incredibly grateful for the opportunity and an able body to do these activities. Recently witnessing a car accident and a could’ve-been-fatal “climbing” accident make me realize how fragile life and mobility are.
Let’s not take it for granted!

Oops! At least it’s a good story.

OK, so it was not the wisest decision, but it ended up being fun. Heading toward Boulder in snowstorm for a concert didn’t work out so well with interstate blockages and such. But thankfully Brianne and her parents are wonderful hosts and let us use their hot-tub and swim suits. Rolling around in slippery snow and stepping back into the water didn’t prove wise for me either, as I somehow bruised and battered my toe to the point of possible breakage. I feel silly, but probably not as bad as this guy, who gave Picasso's dream the elbow.

Reuters reports (Handout photo, left): Picasso's famed "Dream" painting turned into a nightmare for Las Vegas casino magnate Steve Wynn when he accidentally gave the multimillion-dollar canvas an elbow.
Wynn had just finalized a $139 million sale to another collector of his painting, called "Le Reve" (The Dream), when he poked a finger-sized hole in the artwork while showing it to friends at his Las Vegas office a couple of weeks ago.
Director and screenwriter Nora Ephron, who witnessed and related the incident in her blog on the Huffington Post Web site (www.huffingtonpost.com), said Wynn had raised his hand to show the group something about Picasso's 1932 portrait of his mistress Marie-Therese Walter.
"At that moment, his elbow crashed backward right through the canvas. There was a terrible noise," Ephron wrote, noting that Wynn has retinitis pigmentosa, an eye disease that damages peripheral vision.
"Smack in the middle ... was a black hole the size of a silver dollar. 'Oh s---,' he said. 'Look what I've done. Thank goodness it was me.'"
Wynn's office on Tuesday confirmed the story, an account of which also appeared in this week's The New Yorker. Both accounts said Wynn had decided to release the buyer from the sale agreement and to repair and keep the painting himself.
Wynn, a millionaire casino developer and art collector, developed The Mirage and Bellagio resorts in Las Vegas in the 1990s, which spearheaded a profusion of luxury hotels and casinos on the once-seedy Las Vegas Strip.

It’s not over, but the asking…

The non-commissioned officer in charge of my military unit stood over me clapping my shoulder taunting “traitor, traitor, traitor.”

I looked down and tried to fight them back, but couldn’t stop the tears racing out of my eyes, making everyone in the office including my supervisor and coworkers squirm in their seats. He immediately apologized and said he was only joking because they’d be sorry to lose me.

Proceeding to attempt coherence through sobs, I told him how much his comment made me feel devalued as a person and even though I’ll be moving to the Public Affairs office, we’re still on the same team. What upset me most was that I’m trying to serve my country to the best of my ability, and this move will allow me to use my skills, rather than sit around and stick labels on tapes all day (once a month), or shred and file papers—however necessary those tasks may be.

The man did not know how little sleep I’d had, that I was moody already and sad to be leaving the people and camaraderie I’ve gotten to know in the past three years. But when a person is not laughing at your “joke,” perhaps a cease-fire is more appropriate than an all-out attack.

Despite this little ordeal, I felt overwhelmed with thankfulness. God has answered my prayer. I joined the National Guard and went to boot camp in September, 2003 and to tech school in Biloxi, MS, to be trained in information management—willing to wait for a public affairs position to open up.

Well, it finally happened! I must admit, I had my doubts. But what a good exercise in trying to discover contentment and make a difference wherever you’re at. Transition is never as tidy as I’d like, but I find a calmer feeling from the bottom of my boots to the top of my BDU cap rediscovering God has me securely in His hands.

Wing, promise, blossom.

I will not die an unlived life.

I will not live in fearof falling or catching fire.

I choose to inhabit my days,

to allow my living to open me,

to make me less afraid,

more accessible,

to loosen my heart

until it becomes a wing,

a torch, a promise.

I choose to risk my significance,

to live so that which came to me as seed

goes to the next as blossom,

and that which came to me as blossom,

goes on as fruit.

--Dawna Markova

Between the Rock and an empty place.

This weekend as I attended a concert with friends, (Brandon Heath, Bebo Norman, Aaron Shust pictured) loitered outside the Olive Garden parking lot chatting past midnight, climbed rocks, rode bikes, mingled at a housewarming party, etc…I became aware that this single life really is quite fun. I usually can do what I want when I want and enjoy my friendships and situation in life. But then I attend a wedding, and as elated I am for this wonderful couple, I still fight feelings of jealousy, even anger at God that He doesn’t allow good marriages for everyone who desires that. Just between you and me, the older I get the harder it is for me to accept being single. God has placed some amazing guys in my life—for a reason and for a season—for now, I just keep climbing, and writing silly little poems.

Between the Rock and an empty place.
The Rock is where I know I can find solid ground;
the empty place is where I step off and fall.
The Rock is where I find steadiness,
the empty place, no footing at all.
The Rock holds me firm, knowing all will turn out for the best,
the wind whispers through the empty place
“You must take control and never rest.”
I’m stuck right in between the Rock and the empty place,
gripping for life. I keep climbing, trying for a steady pace,
wondering if I’ll ever reach the top,
hoping I don’t get dropped.
The Rock never changes;
the empty place looms larger
if I take my eyes off the Way.
Longing for someone to join me on this route,
the Rock remains without a doubt.

My imaginary best friend

Last night at writing group my assignment was to: Create your imaginary best friend. Looks, likes and dislikes, agreements, disagreements, etc…So, in the five minutes or so, here’s what I came up with:
My imaginary best friend is tall, dark, and handsome. No really, I’m kidding.
His zodiac sign is Aquarius, like mine. Kidding again. Ha. Ha.
He’d be funnier than me. Yes, I did say he. He’s a he because he’s imaginary.
His likes and dislikes? He likes me! And I like him. That’s why we’re friends.
What else does he like, you ask?
Like, he totally likes words, and uses them better than me.
He likes to stitch—that is put me in stitches, and to stitch words together. Yes, he’s a writer and a fighter. Not one of those wimpy dudes who sits around with his thoughts all day. But he has such great thoughts, I wouldn’t mind sitting with them for a long, long time.
And time. He uses it well.
And well. He is well—healthy that is.
And is, he is. He just is. He’s not so busy doing that he can’t be.
And bees—he’s not afraid of them.
But I digress. [That’s for you poetic pudmuddle!]
He loves the outdoors and nature and adventure. He gets muddy with his buddies, then cleans up real nice. He’s courageous, even not afraid of the arts (can we say dancing?) and culture.
We agree on everything of course. Not actually, but we can talk about disagreements and be reasonable, rational adults.
Yes, he’s an adult—a real man, not just one of those little boys in a big guy’s body.
And he’s MY best friend (in my imagination).


Honestly, my real best friends are honest. They struggle; they’re real. They’re beautiful because they love Jesus and follow hard after Him. They know how to have fun and make me laugh. They even laugh at me. Yet, they can be serious and deep. These are the people I can take long walks with and share soul secrets in confidence. And after spending time with them I feel better because of it, like God was glorified from our mouths to our feet. I give the Lord praise for these authentic friendships, a treasure He’s bestowed indeed!

Don’t Get Comfortable

Nashville native Brandon Heath also grew up steeped in the music world. He began playing guitar and writing songs as a 13-year-old. “Music, for me, has always been about the songwriting,” Heath says. “My plan, as a songwriter, was to write the songs and have someone else perform them; little did I know that was not God’s plan.”
Christian music remained foreign to Heath until high school when he met Jesus through youth outreach organization Young Life, which later allowed him to share his faith and music at camps and retreats.
Though Don’t Get Comfortable is Heath’s major-label debut, he already has substantial musical accomplishments under his belt, including songs written for artists such as Joy Williams and Bebo Norman. He’s touring this fall with Norman and Aaron Shust. (In Colorado Springs Friday!)
His radio single “Our God Reigns” has been topping charts, and he shows no signs of slowing down. Making himself accessible to fans, Heath put his cell phone number in the CD packaging for fans to call and tell him what they think of the record. He will return one call a week for the first six months of the album release.
And even though Heath keeps company with some of the biggest names in the business, like producer friend Dan Muckala (Backstreet Boys, The Afters), he remains grounded. Heath’s heart for missions and those living in poverty has taken him to India and Ecuador. A few years ago, he and his roommates moved to a lower-income neighborhood in Nashville to be intentional about creating a missional community unlike the one in which they were raised.
Heath makes a point to live what he sings in Don’t Get Comfortable. And he wears cool hats when he doesn't care about his hair. :-)
Here's a picture of me and my roomie and him in Denver at ICRS. One of his roommates is fellow singer/songwriter Matt Wertz.
We talked about collaborating on a book tentatively titled "Rules for Roomies."
Rule #1--Don't wear matching outfits at the same time unless it's required.

Road trip!

Wow, what a whirlwind, wonderful trip! Three days, five people, three national parks, one vehicle, lots of laughs, more memories than I can remark on here. Here's a photo sampling.










First stop: Great Sand Dunes National Park.

Coloradwow!

When on a road trip, one must visit unusual (more different) diners.

It's Grand--like a canyon!

Spoon anyone?

There's nothing like brats and s'mores cooked on a campfire--with a huge branch growing out of it.

Waking up at sunrise--one of the best accidents that happened.

Four Corners: taking a quick break from the long sit.