Wordless Wednesday - Blizzard Edition

Because I just couldn't let it go . . .



Personally, I'm kinda glad I don't live in the City when it snows.



Let the melting begin!

Some Thoughts on the Religious Climate in the World

This post really grabbed my attention yesterday. Go read it and come back (it might take you a few minutes longer than you usually spend on a blog, but it will be well worth your time). We have some things to discuss.

I've linked to Conversion Diary here a few times in the past--I find Jennifer's conversion from atheism to Catholicism fascinating. Although we don't necessarily share the same "brand" of Christianity, I find Jennifer's faith to be vibrant, thoughtful, and sincere.

Last week she asked the question, "What is the religious climate in your country?" And, boy, did she get answers!

Yesterday she listed out a generous sampling of answers she received from her readers around the world. To say a chill went down my spine would be an understatement.

I was brought back to my first visit to England in 1984. I was a college student traveling around the country and studying at Oxford, and I was struck mainly by two things during the eight weeks I was there. First, I was profoundly affected by the history all around me . . . and the lack of it in my homeland. It's true, America is such a young country. Seeing the sights in England--buildings that were centuries older than our entire country--helped me put my upbringing into a perspective I had never had before.

The second thing that struck me was how much the people of England, and the United Kingdom in general, needed Jesus. As I walked around I noticed that something seemed to be missing from the faces of many of the people there. Was it hope? Was it faith? I wasn't sure, but it was palpable, this lack of something. For the first time in my life I was confronted with what a society without a firm spiritual footing--a Christian footing--looked like.

And it made me sad. And it made me pray deeply for the people of England.

It also gave me a sense that more and more missionaries need to be there. Just living lives that are different among people who have no hope.

But who wants to say they are missionaries in England? It's like being a missionary to Switzerland! Ha!

Anyway, Jennifer's post really gave me so much to think about, to pray about. Some of the more chilling answers, in my opinion . . .

To the question "At a typical social event, how appropriate would it be if a person were to explicitly acknowledge in casual conversation that he or she is a believing Christian?" one reader from Luxembourg said it would be "odd and slightly inappropriate." Really.

To the question "What belief system do the politicians in your area claim to practice? " a reader from British Columbia said, "The more a politician discusses his religious affiliations in public the more suspect he is."

Jennifer asked about the size of the average family and most readers said that the family is declining in importance (especially in Europe) but Muslims all have big families.

She asked, "What seems to be the dominant belief system of the people in your area?" One reader from the U.K. said "shopping." Others said "apathy" or "indifference."

Finally, when asked "Do you notice any trends? Do people seem to be becoming more or less religious?" most readers from Europe seemed to think that religion in their part of the world is dying out completely. A couple of people said that there are some thriving Evangelical churches in London, but outside of London the church is dying.

Of course, there were some bright spots. The church in Africa seems to be thriving, as does the church in the Philippines. China seems to be easing its restrictions a bit.

But this thing about Europe . . . oh, it breaks my heart.

What are your thoughts? I'd love to know.

One Thousand Gifts

"Our fall was, has always been, and always will be, that we aren't satisfied in God and what He gives."
Ann Voskamp, "One Thousand Gifts"

Oh boy. Just . . . oh boy.

I’ve started reading a new book—Ann Voskamp’s “One Thousand Gifts”—and I can see that this is going to be profound. Moving. Life changing.

I’ve only read three chapters—chapters that need to be savored, not devoured—but I can already tell that this is a book that will have a deep impact on me.

Ann begins her book (a memoir, my favorite genre) by telling the story of her younger sister’s death when Ann was only four years old. An accident; she was run over by a truck in the yard of their farm.

After many years of questioning God, harboring bitterness and anger, Ann learns to release these feelings through what she calls the gift of gratitude. A friend challenges her to write down One Thousand Gifts, daily reminders of God’s grace in her life, to see what would happen.

Things happen alright. Even in just three chapters, Ann shows what the deep roots of ingratitude can do to a person and how just thinking of God’s goodness every day has changed her.

I’ve been trying to chronicle my own “Gratitude Journal” here over the past few weeks, but I haven’t been consistent. I’ve even thought about stopping because I didn’t see the purpose in it clearly. But now, after just three chapters of “One Thousand Gifts” I’m beginning to get it. And I’m beginning to see how thankfulness can root out the ugliness of bitterness, anger, discontentment.

I’ve been through a bit of what Ann has. Many of you know (but many don’t) that I lost a brother to an accidental drowning when I was eleven years old. I have much to say about that, but not here and not now. I only mention it to say that I get where Ann has been. I’m not sure I’ve held on to the questions about God the way Ann has, but I’m sure I have suffered the discontentment she talks about. The questioning of God’s ways in our lives.

And I’m on the other side of it now too. Not quite sure how I got here, although I’m fairly certain it wasn’t through counting my blessings.

It should have been.

And so I count them now. The blessings. They are all around me, so deep, so vibrant, so real that I can touch them every day.

I’ll keep counting. You can keep reading. And we’ll all keep growing.

If you’d like to read Ann Voskamp’s book “One Thousand Gifts” you can order it here. And if you’d like to follow along with (in)Courage—they are hosting a book club with Ann Voskamp every week—you can find the interviews here.

* * * * *

Gratitude Journal

66. Sunlight streaming through my bedroom window.

67. Long walks with Thunder

68. Temps above freezing.

69. Safety through the blizzard.

70. Little girl hugs after a weekend away.

71. Our church. (Do I say this every week?)

72. Birthdays.

73. Long talks over lunch.

74. My Bible study co-leader.

75. Opportunities to wait and see.

76. All the people I love and who love me so well.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Fabulous Friday Food - My Favorite Angel Food Cake

Need an easy Valentine's Day dessert that will make your family squeal with delight? I've got your answer. It only takes three simple ingredients and your family will love it--I promise!

My mom used to make this for us when we were younger, and every time she made it we all got excited, jumping around the kitchen and making all sorts of ruckus.

You should have seen the smiling, happy faces in my kitchen when I put this together yesterday. And all the ensuing ruckus. It was a party . . . of four.

Alright, here we go. Ingredient number 1 is an Angel Food cake, one of my personal favorites. Please, for the sake of all that is right and good in the world, go ahead and bake your own cake. It only takes water and one minute of mixing time. So easy, you can't even imagine. And you will have a cake that is ten times . . . no, one hundred times . . . (hyperbole, much?!) . . . better than those yucky cakes they sell in the grocery store.

Seriously, if you've never made an Angel Food cake at home, try it. You will thank me. Your family will thank me. Your dog will thank me.

Just try it.

O.K., now that I've convinced you to make your own Angel Food cake, and you've done that--baked it and cooled it completely--now you are ready to assemble your three ingredients.

Drum roll, please.

Angel Food cake, Cool Whip, and a very big Hershey bar. That is all.

Put the Hershey bar in your food processor (I have a handy-dandy small chopper for just this kind of thing) and grind it up.

See? All ground up.

Add the Hershey bar pieces to the Cool Whip that has been thawed in the refrigerator overnight.

Mix it together . . .

. . . and frost the cake with it.

That's it! That's all it is. But, trust me, it is SO good! Serve it with some sliced strawberries and you've got yourself the all-time easiest Valentines Day (or any day) dessert.

Side note: If you're a real big chocolate fan, you might want to consider using two of the giant Hershey bars. Just sayin'.

Second side note: I am not a Hershey fan. I'm more of a Dove chocolate girl. Hershey is too grainy for my refined palatte, so this is pretty much the only way I truly enjoy Hershey bars.

Third side note: If you don't want to keep the cake in your refrigerator, you can use the Cool Whip/Hershey mixture as a dolloping device rather than as frosting. That way you just put the whipped cream in the fridge and keep the cake on the counter. Oh, I am so full of tricks today, aren't I?

Final side note: This is kind of a blue-collar dessert. I suppose if you were a true food snob you could use real whipped cream and Scharffen Berger bittersweet chocolate. If you were a true food snob. Not that I am or anything.

Enjoy!

My Favorite Angel Food Cake

Five Minutes

I'm linking up with Lisa-Jo today for Five Minute Friday. Today's theme--what happened in your week this week?

Well . . . you all know what happened in my week this week--my personal email got hacked. I have more than five minutes worth of thoughts about all this, but I thought I'd quickly jot down five lessons I learned when my email got hacked.

One minute for each. And then, I promise, I'll be done with this episode.

*Start*

1. Having your email hacked is a pain. And stressful. Just last night I was looking for some information for a trip I'm taking next week and, of course, the email was gone. I had no idea what time my flight was. Or even which airport I was supposed to go to. And it put me into a stressful funk which I then imposed on my whole family.

They sent me away for the evening.

2. Having your email hacked feels like a violation. Because it IS. Somebody came into my "home" and stole a bunch of important stuff from me. And not only that, they took all my friends with them. I can't shake the feeling that I've been robbed.

3. There are a lot of evil people sitting in front of their computers right now. As I write, I'm sitting in Panera, and there are a lot of people sitting in front of their computers (thanks, Panera, for the free wifi!). I wonder which one of these people is a hacker. And if you're one of the ones trying to hack into my friends' email account or trying to fill my blog with spam comments, just do me a favor and get a real job.

4. There are a lot of good people out there too. I have been so humbled and amazed by the number of people who took the time to check in on us. Most knew that the "Help!" email they got from us was a hoax, but they just wanted to check in on us anyway to make sure. What wonderful friends we have.

5. Change your passwords. If there's anything I have learned from this experience that I want to pass along to you it is this. We had not changed our passwords in two or three years (I'm embarrassed to admit this), and that's what hackers look for. I learned from AT&T security that we should change our passwords every six months. A pain, to be sure, but also very, very essential.

*Stop*

There. I'm now officially done talking about the hacker on my blog.

Be sure to come back later, though, because I'm going to post a quick and EASY dessert you can serve on Valentine's Day. I promise it's easy--only three ingredients.

Now tell me, what happened in YOUR week this week?

Hallelujah

Lately when I've been working out at the gym this song has been coming up on my playlist, and I love it. This morning I listened to the words very carefully. I may have even closed my eyes while I was riding the stationary bike. (Thank goodness I didn't fall off!) The words are amazing and they spoke to me in a big way this morning.

Anyway, listen to this song today. And whatever's in front of you, I hope you'll sing "Hallelujah."

The Situation of Things Right Now

Just when you think you don’t have anything to write about . . . wha bam! . . . life just comes at you and hits you over the head.

Who says life isn’t exciting? It’s always an adventure!

So yesterday started out just like any other Monday. I got up, made coffee, took Julia to school, and headed to the gym. When I got home I had really high hopes of doing some writing for a couple of hours. I was psyched and ready to write, so I showered and got dressed like I usually do (I’m one of those people who can’t get anything done unless my hair is dried and I’m wearing makeup. Don’t judge.).

And then the phone rang.

And rang. And rang some more.

People were calling to tell me that my email had been hacked.

Oh yes indeed, it had been hacked alright.

Unless you’d believe that my husband and I took a quick trip to London (as soon as the Superbowl was over) and were being ROBBED AT GUNPOINT (as soon as we got off the plane) and that the robber took all of our money and credit cards and that we needed exactly $2,250 to get the entire family home from England. The letter explained to all of our contacts that they had better hurry to send the money because of "the situation of things right now." (All of this, of course, happening in one tragically eventful day.)

What kind of evil person sits around thinking up stuff like this? Seriously!


There’s just so much wrong with this, I don’t even know where to begin.

First of all, my husband’s name was spelled wrong. His name is common. It’s not easy to misspell. So that should have been the first clue.

Second, have you checked airfares lately?? Believe me, it’ll take a whole lot more than $2,250 to get a family of five home from England.

And for that matter, have you ever been to Heathrow? You can’t even get out of the shopping area for less than that! It truly is a shopper’s paradise in there--the most exclusive kind of mall because you have to have an actual plane ticket off the island to even get in there.

But I digress . . .

Third, robbed at gunpoint? In England? They have laws, my friends. And their laws don’t include guns. In fact, their laws EXCLUDE the use of guns for pretty much everyone, including the police.

After a quick glance at the email that went out under my husband’s phony signature, I called our internet provider to get this whole mess sorted out. Let’s not go into the gory details here because there just may be a couple of people overseas who are crying in their soup today over some possibly harsh words I may or may not have said to them whilst asking to talk to their supervisor because MY EMAIL HAS BEEN HACKED AND I MUST CORRECT THIS SITUATION RIGHT NOW!!

Finally, after about an hour, talking to two or twenty different people named “Cindy” and “Paul” (such perky names . . . so completely fake . . . you aren’t fooling me AT&T!) I got through to a new level of security that even I didn’t know existed. And it was here that my nightmare turned Freddy Kreuger-ish.

You don’t know nightmare until you’ve got a security expert from AT&T on the other line saying things like, “I’ve never seen anything like this. This is so strange. I really think you should call the police.”

(*Insert Psycho chopping noise here.*)

Here’s the weird part . . . the hacker was on my account at the same time AT&T was trying to fix it. They would give me a secure password to get into my account and within a minute, the hacker would change it.

Freaky? Um, yeah!

After a couple of hours of dealing with AT&T security we finally got the “issue” (that seems like such a subdued word for what I was dealing with) resolved.

I think.

I hope.

I pray.

We now have the ability to send emails, which would be great if we had any email addresses. You see, our contacts were erased. Our emails were erased. Our saved email files were erased, including all the pictures that people have sent me over the years.

I told B this morning that I not only felt like I had been robbed, I kind of felt like our house had burned down because there is so much that cannot be recovered. Obviously it would have been much, much worse if our house had burned down, and I’m thankful it was just a computer issue, but still . . . it feels like a violation.

Sure, it’s frustrating, but there is a silver lining to all this . . . all the people who have reached out to us over the past 24 hours. Phone calls (close to 100), emails (tons), and people reaching out to us on Facebook. It has been amazing to see. Humbling, really.

From the many, many people at church who were concerned about us to the mom of a friend of Kate’s from kindergarten who said she could offer $100 to help. God bless her! (It reminded me of the scene from “It’s A Wonderful Life” where the people were staging a run on the Building and Loan and the little old woman stepped up to the counter and said, “I could use $17.50.” So sweet.)

But the best were the two friends who called to say, “I know you. You’re a writer. There’s no way you would have sent a letter like that—your letter would have been grammatically correct.”

At least I came through all this with my reputation still intact!

Fabulous Friday Food - My Sister Jodi's Homemade Salsa

You thought I forgot about it, didn't you? You thought I forgot that two weeks ago I promised you my sister Jodi's homemade salsa recipe. Didn't you?

But, ah ha!, the joke's on you because I didn't forgot. And just in time for your big Superbowl party, too.

But first, I have to tell you a little story. (I know, you're surprised that I would have a story.) See, there's a restaurant here called J. Alexander's. Maybe you have a J. Alexander's where you live too. It's always been one of my favorite places because they have THE BEST salsa in the world.

It's not like I'm a salsa freak or a salsa connoisseur or a salsa junkie. I mean, I like salsa. Salsa's O.K. with me. But that J. Alexander's salsa . . . oh my! There is something different about it.

So one time when I was in there guzzling salsa like a crazy woman, I took a break from licking the bowl to ask my server if there was any way the chef would share their recipe with me. (I happen to know that sometimes when you ask for a recipe in a restaurant, the chef is more than happy to share.) But no. Not this time. J. Alexander's would not share their salsa recipe with me for any amount of money. (Don't put it past me!)

I went home disappointed.

I'd like to tell you I never returned, but that would not be the truth because every once in a while I just get a craving, a notion, a hankering if you will, for J. Alexander's salsa. And I return. Tail between my legs. (Figuratively speaking.)

I tell you all this because once I tasted my sister Jodi's homemade salsa I was transported back to J. Alexander's. And my tastebuds tingled and I got so excited that I may have just jumped up and down a few times.

It may not be an exact match (only the chef at J. Alexander's can tell), but it's pretty close. It's got that fresh taste that I loved the first time I tried it. And the cilantro. Mmmmm.

So I just made a batch . . . or two . . . and I'm pretty much set for Sunday. Pretty much all you need to serve is this salsa and a few chips and your guests will be very happy campers.

Alright, maybe a couple more options. But the salsa is key.

Now, Jodi tells me that she got this recipe from her Texan mother-in-law, so if it's good enough for a true Texan, it's good enough for me. Oh, and the measurements are kind of loosey-goosey. You'll have to experiment to see how you like it. Everything's negotiable here.

So here we go. Collect your ingredients: 1 can of Hunt's (yes, it must be Hunt's) stewed tomatoes, 1 can Hunt's (yes, it must be Hunt's) diced tomatoes with sweet onion, 1 or 2 jalapeno peppers (depending on taste), 1 clove garlic, cilantro, cumin, lime, and salt.

Put the garlic clove in the food processor.

Clean the ribs and seeds from your jalapeno peppers. Unless you like it stinkin' hot. Then go ahead and leave them in. Me? I'm a de-seeder.

Toss those into your food processor along with the garlic clove.

Pulse a few times.

Take some cilantro (be sure to wash it--cilantro can be gritty and nobody likes gritty) and give it a rough chop.

Put everything else into the food processor, including just a pinch of salt.

Give it 3 or 4 quick pulses and voila!

The best homemade salsa I've ever had. Serve it up with some chips and munch away!

Click here to print or view the recipe for My Sister Jodi's Homemade Salsa.

So tell me, what are you doing for the Superbowl?

One More Blizzard Story

I'm sure you've heard stories about the blizzard.

All those cars abandoned on Lake Shore Drive.

{Photo credit}

(I told my husband that if I were stuck in that mess for nine hours I would have been FREAKING OUT!! Crying. Screaming. Fits of rage. I would have even crawled through the blizzard in stilettos--if I ever wore stilettos--to get out of there. There is NO WAY I could have stayed in my car that long, watching the snow pile up around me, realizing my car was going nowhere fast.)

Anyway, while all of those people were stuck in their cars on Lake Shore Drive, I was outside filming for posterity. I thought it would be cool for my kids and grandkids to have some footage of the storm someday. (They don't seem to care that much, but oh well.)

So at 10:00 p.m. I put on my coat, boots, scarf, hat, and gloves--in other words, I "bundled up" (my kids think that's a funny phrase. Do you?)--and I grabbed my cameras and headed out. The still shots basically ended up looking like this.



Too much snow blowing around in 60 mph wind to get much of anything.

But while I was videotaping I noticed a car pull up at the end of our block. Which, in itself, was kind of unusual. I mean, we were in the middle of a BLIZZARD.

Then I heard a woman's voice calling something over and over, and I quickly realized that she was calling for her dog. My heart sank. I love my dog, and I felt sick just thinking about Thunder out there wandering in the cold, probably disoriented, freezing, not knowing where to turn. I wondered for a second if I should join the woman in her search, but decided that would be too dangerous.

So I did the next best thing. I went into the house and jumped on Facebook. I wrote: "Northside neighbors: I just stepped outside to take pictures and I heard a woman calling for her dog. Keep your eyes open for this poor lost dog. So sad."

And pretty quickly a friend who was riding out the storm in Arizona (!) wrote back saying that she knew who that was and that her dog was a golden retriever named Harry.

We went to bed praying for poor Harry. Some of us may have had a few tears in our eyes as we thought of what could happen to this poor lost dog.

The next morning I got this report on Facebook: "Harry the golden retriever is HOME!! A man found him last night but did not call police until this morning... Prayer answered!! Now he can enjoy the snow!"

A happy ending. I was so thankful for Facebook and that I was able to find out the end of Harry's story.

Tonight, as Julia was praying before bed she gave thanks for Harry's return. And then she said, "Thank you for listening to all of our prayers, even the small ones."

It was a big blizzard that brought some big problems for a lot of people. Some stories may not have ended quite as well. But our story, Harry's story, ended happily.

And Julia learned a little something about God through it all.

Happy Birthday, Maggie Julia!

Alright, today I’m coming clean. “Maggie” isn’t really Maggie. She’s Julia. And “Abby” isn’t really Abby. She’s Caroline. So now you know all of the names of my three daughters: Kate, Caroline, and Julia. I feel so much better.

And now, on to the real post for today . . .

* * * * *

Julia and me sitting on the steps of a museum in San Paulo, Brazil when she was about 3.

It’s official. I am the mother of three teenagers as of today.

Today Julia turns 13, and on the day she was born, B and I looked at each other with a mixture of delight and horror at the thought of having three daughters. We knew that having three little girls would be lots of fun, but we also fast-forwarded in our minds and realized very quickly that we would have three teenagers at one time.

All those hormones!

All that hair!

All the drama!

But you know what? Having three teenage daughters is probably one of the most fun stages of parenting we’ve been through yet. Our daughters are all unique, as different from one another as chalk and cheese, and yet they are all delightful.

I always say, and I mean it with all of my heart, I am the luckiest mom in the world.

And to think, having three teenage daughters almost didn’t happen.

It almost didn’t happen because, frankly, my selfish heart wasn’t sure I wanted to have another child. I was so happy with the two I already had, even though I felt pretty much like a failure as their mother. I just wasn’t sure I wanted to bring another child into this mess-that-was-me.

But God had other plans, our sweet Julia was born, and my life has never been the same, thank goodness.

As soon as she was born the nurses did the routine quick-check on her before they let me hold her. The nurses thought she looked fine, but our doctor disagreed. He saw something. Something so slight about the way she was breathing that not even seasoned labor and delivery nurses could see it.

They actually argued in the delivery room!

As I was holding my baby girl for the first time, my doctor and the nurses were arguing. Finally, with a stern reprimand, our dear doctor, to whom I will forever be grateful, practically stomped his foot and said, “Get her down to the NICU, NOW!”

Julia was whisked from my arms, placed in her little isolette, and rushed to the neonatal intensive care unit before I even knew what was happening. One nurse had stayed behind to care for me explained (in a calm voice, thankfully) that the doctor had noticed that Julia’s breathing was not as it should be, a little shallow, and he felt she should be seen downstairs.

My brain went foggy, I remember. I was kind of numb. Suddenly, 30 hours of a delivery you really don’t want to hear about didn’t seem important or even real. My baby was sick, and I didn’t know what to do or how to respond.

Julia was born with a pneumothorax—a condition that involves an air pocket which forms between the lung and the chest wall, causing a collapsed lung. She also developed pneumonia—I still don’t know whether the two were related or not. Oh, and a pretty severe case of jaundice.

For the first 48 hours she was hooked up to all sorts of tubes and wires. It was pretty scary. But she weighed 7 pounds, 12 ounces, and compared to the other babies in the NICU, she was gigantic. Eventually the tubes and wires were disconnected, she was removed from the oxygen tent, and she began to look like a normal newborn. We knew then that she was going to be fine.

Julia stayed in the NICU for a week, and then my strong, healthy baby was released to go home . . . unlike so many of the babies who would spend months in an isolette as their little bodies grew and developed. I almost felt guilty for having such a strong fighter on my hands.

And what a fighter she is! She is strong. She is passionate. And she knows how to stand up for herself and her beliefs.

My baby is 13 today, and I am so grateful for this day and every day of her life.

A couple of weekends ago I surprised Julia and took her to see “Wicked” in Chicago as an early birthday present. She had been dropping not-so-subtle hints for a long time that she really wanted to see it, but I kept telling her that it just wasn’t going to happen.

We had a wonderful day together—a day in which everything just fell perfectly into place. Our timing was perfect. Parking spots opened up right in front of us. And we didn’t even have to wait at our favorite restaurant for dinner! Even though it wasn’t her exact birth-day, we pretended that it was.

And I think, on that day, my baby girl grew up.



Happy birthday, Julia. I love you so much!

Mom

Blizzard 2011

BEFORE
(Taken around 1:00 p.m. yesterday)



AFTER
(Taken at 8:00 a.m. this morning)



BEFORE
(See that bench?)



AFTER
(Now do you see that bench?)



BEFORE
(Now you see bushes . . .)



AFTER
(Now you don't!)



You get the idea. We had a lot of snow last night. Over 20 inches, to be exact, which makes this officially the third largest snowstorm in Chicago EVER.

Here in my yard I measured 24 inches, but I'm not official. And besides, what's an inch or three anyway? Just a lot of back-breaking work, that's what!

Thunder the Wonder Dog had a GREAT time running, no, racing through the snow. She just comes alive when there's snow on the ground. Must be a Lab thing.

After she was good and tired (ha!) we went for a walk. This gives you an idea of how deep the snow is.

We ran into my neighbor, Jenny, who's a faithful reader of my blog. (Hey Jenny! Now I can call you Jenny from the Blog--ha!)

I took lots of pictures like this. Everyone spent the day basically trying to shovel out their cars and driveways. For a while there it looked like we were all going to be stuck here forever!

But no, the weather man has assured us that we won't be stuck here forever, just a few more days (we just found out there's another snow day tomorrow). Punxatawny Phil didn't see his shadow today, so I guess Spring is right around the corner.

Just ask my neighbors.

In Which My Ugly Comes Out

Remember the vulnerability I talked about earlier? About how I feel the need to open up a little more, expose myself a little more on the blog?

Well, here goes. My first attempt at increased vulnerability.

I ruined Blissdom for myself.

But Shelly, what do you mean? You made it seem like you had a really great time in your previous posts.

And here’s the part where I have to explain myself. I DID have a great time at Blissdom. I learned a few things. I was challenged to write with authenticity. And, best of all, I met some really wonderful people.

But still, I was ruined, in a way, because I allowed myself to go into the weekend with a bad attitude, and I stayed in a funk all weekend.

Hopefully, people who met me didn’t notice . . . too much . . . or else they were too kind to say anything. But I’m sure I conveyed a “standoffishness” that isn’t really me. At all. (I’ll let people who really know me chime in about that.)

But here’s the thing. I had been having a difficult couple of weeks prior to Blissdom. Winter and I are not on the best of terms, and emotionally I was feeling frail at best when I left for Nashville. Also, my grandmother had been sick and we were all waiting for her homegoing (which occurred this morning, but more about that later). So that was nagging at my brain before I left as well.

And then there is that old, ugly beast called Insecurity which I let transform me into a totally different person all weekend. I knew I was doing it—holding back, withdrawing, not reaching out—and yet I felt powerless to stop it. The Beast got the best of me, and I am not proud.

All weekend long I listened to terrible thoughts that sounded like this:

I want to be a big blog with more than 100 followers.

I want people to look at my name badge and say, “Oh, hey! I was hoping to meet you!” instead of looking at my name badge and then looking quickly away.

I want people to look at me and see a hip, middle-aged mom who has it all together. (I so do not.)

I want to write for a big-name website.

Oh my pride, it is so big.

Those thoughts (and worse) ate at me all weekend until I just couldn’t take it anymore. I felt so out of my element at Blissdom, so unlike myself, so unsure of myself, that I’m sure I didn’t come across in the most positive light.

It made me mad that I was having these thoughts. I know the truth about myself. I speak to women about these truths, and yet I could not stop the insecurity beast from attacking me. All. Weekend. Long.

Finally, on Friday, I texted my husband and said, “I just want to be home NOW!” and he texted back and said, “Why don’t you?” And just like that I switched my flight from Sunday morning to Saturday morning. I had to get away. From myself and from the beast called Insecurity.

B picked me up at the airport, and I don’t think I’ve ever loved the sight of him more. We talked long and hard throughout the drive home and a delicious lunch date about what I wanted to get out of the weekend, what I want for my blog, and what I want out of life. It was good to debrief in this way.

That night we headed over to the college to watch a basketball game. There we sat—B, Abby, Maggie, and me—in a crowded gym (Kate was there too, sitting with her friends) with our neighbors and friends from church all around us, and I finally was able to relax. For the first time in several days I felt truly happy. And I realized . . . this is where I belong.

This is where people know me best.

This is where I can be myself.

This is where I feel loved and accepted.

This is where I want to be.

Not that I won’t ever go away from home or to another conference, but if I do it will be totally different. I will go in with a different perspective and a different attitude. I’ll go in mentally prepared, unlike this time.

On Sunday morning, as I sat with the junior high girls during our Sunday School class, we sang this song and it touched me so deeply. Because I knew, as I sang these words, that I had forgotten to do this one really important thing before I went to Blissdom. I had forgotten to let God just reign in me.

Reign In Me

Over all the earth
You reign on high
Every mountain stream
Every sunset sky
But my one request
Lord my only aim
Is that you reign in me again

Lord reign in me
Reign in your power
Over all my dreams
In my darkest hour
You are the Lord of all I am
So won’t you reign in me again

Over every thought
Over every word
May my life reflect
The beauty of my Lord
You mean more to me
Than any earthly thing
So won’t you reign in me again

What I Learned at Blissdom

Opryland Hotel, Nashville

Oh sure, my weekend at Blissdom was full of meeting people and parties and such, but there were just a few little tidbits that I stuck in my pocket and kept for later. In fact, lots of information that I needed to read over and absorb once I came back.

There were two amazing keynote speeches at Blissdom--one opening and one closing (funny how that works). Never one to do things in the traditional manner, I'm going to tell you about the closing talk first.

Scott Stratten
Author of UnMarketing, Scott Stratten gave the closing keynote, and to say that guy was hilarious would be an understatement. Hi-lar-i-ous. He seriously should just take his show on the road. (Oh wait. He already did that.) Anyway, 30 side-splitting minutes later, here's what I gleaned from Scott:

Be awesome.

That's it. Just be awesome. Nobody wants to read "meh." Nobody spreads average.

People spread awesome. Awesomely great. Awesomely horrible. Awesomely sweet. Whatever is awesome, it will spread.

A few awesome posts are a whole lot better than a lot of posts that don't say anything.

Here's what I got from Scott's talk that I want to try to improve in my blog. I sometimes settle for the "meh." I sometimes fall into the old I-have-to-put-something-out-there trap and end up with an average post. What I need to do, instead, is to make each post as awesome as I can so that it's worth your time to be here.

Wow. That's humbling.

Brene Brown
Brene was the opening keynote speaker for Blissdom, and after hearing her talk I could have just gone home and been completely satisfied. I have about six pages of notes from her talk--my hand just could not keep up with all the wonderful bits of wisdom she shared with us.

It's going to be hard to distill everything down, but I'll try to categorize a few of the things she talked about.

Shame
1. We all have it, that thing inside of us that says "You are not enough."

2. Nobody wants to talk about it

3. The less we talk about it the more we have it.

Shame brings us down, destroys us. But the only thing shame can't survive is being spoken. WORDS destroy shame.

Wholeheartedness
What do the lives of people look like who say "I am enough"? They are wholehearted lives. These are the people who say "I don't know who I am, I may not be perfect, but I'm going to go ahead and put this out there."

The wholehearted are people who believe in their own worthiness. See, most of us have developed a list of what makes us worthy: "If I do this, I might be good enough." But worthiness has no prerequisites. Worthiness says, "This is just me. It's all I have to offer--myself--and it is enough."

Vulnerability
Most of us think vulnerability is related to fear and uncertainty, and it is, but when put into practice, vulnerability is related to courage and strength. (I loved that!) Vulnerability says "I am willing to feel and I'm willing to let myself be seen."

Vulnerability is the birthplace of

• love
• belonging
• joy
• gratitude
• authenticity
• innovation
• creativity

We have to be careful with vulnerability, though, like we're walking a tightrope between not caring what people think and caring too much about what people think.

She summarized her thoughts this way:

1. Know your short list, those people whose opinions really matter to you. Your go-to people. The people who would do anything for you.

2. Know your boundaries. "Choose discomfort over resentment." This was huge to me because I am such a people-pleaser. I'll say yes to just about anything I can, but Brene's point is that if you are going to resent the thing you said yes to, it's not worth it. Say no now so you don't resent it later. (Lots to think about there!)

3. Know that you are enough. Ask for what you need. When we don't put value on our work, we end up resenting.

4. Our stories matter because we matter. "Owning our story and loving ourselves through that process is the bravest thing we will ever do." Blogging comes down to one thing: courage. Share the story of who you are with your whole heart.

My takeaway from Brene: I feel like I need to use this space to be braver, to tell stories that I haven't yet told, to be more vulnerable than I've allowed myself to be. This might be hard, but it might also help someone else in the process.

How about you? What story do you need to share with authenticity? What makes you awesome (besides just being here)? I'd love to know!

Gratitude Journal

Just a quick list this morning. More on Blissdom to come later today,

51. A little trip to Nashville last week.
52. Prayers answered about that trip.
53. Lots of kindness.
54. The (in)Courage peeps.
55. Meeting lots and lots of wonderful women.
56. Time and space to think.
57. Unexpected encouragement.
58. Prayer time on Friday morning.
59. Gussy, who saved me a seat on the plane. (I'll probably be thankful for that forever!)
60. Coming home early. Ahhh.
61. Sitting at a college basketball game with my "real" peeps.
62. Unexpected visitors.
63. Church on Sunday morning.
64. A peek at the sun.
65. Possible blizzard?????? Could spell fun!

Home from Blissdom

This is a photo of the Opryland Hotel in Nashville where Blissdom was held.

It does not do justice to the massiveness that is that place. Wow.

Ahhhhh. I've had a good night's sleep and a chance to debrief, and now I'm ready to recap my Blissdom experience. It may take a few posts to figure it all out, but for today, I just want to write about what Blissdom meant to me.

In a word . . . grace. My word for the year. Grace. And it was so evident that God was showering this down on me this weekend.

For me it wasn't the stuff, the swag, the sponsors (Sorry, sponsors. You were lovely, but just not "it" for me.) or the soirees (and those were pretty nice, too!).

No, for me, Blissdom can best be summed up in the smiles, the simple hellos, the snuggly hugs. The moments of sitting down and talking, getting to know each other.

And the kindness.

All sorts of kindness all around me.



From Jo-Lynne who invited me to room with her and left a session early to walk alllll the way down to the lobby when I arrived (believe me, that was a true sacrifice). . . .

To the (in)Courage gals who provided a place for us like-minded women to congregate. . . .



To Robin who hugged me and welcomed me like an old friend. . . .

To Traci who prayed for encouragement for me one morning and not five minutes later did I meet Richella who seemed like a long-lost friend I had never met.

And finally, to dear Gussy who not only "connected" with my heart, but also saved me a seat in Row 10 on a Southwest flight when I was the next-to-the last person on the plane. Can I just say that I love this girl?! More about her to come, I'm sure.

And so, for me, Blissdom was about learning, but mostly about connecting with some really wonderful women.

I'm so grateful.

Why I'm Going to Blissdom

If you're not a blogger, you can probably just close this post right now because none of it will mean much of anything to you. I mean, NONE of it.

BUT, if you know what posts and links and newbies and trolls and vloggers are, hang around and I'll 'splain myself.

See, there's this conference. It's maybe just a little geeky trendy. It's got a weird name, Blissdom, and it's for bloggers. Yes, 500 women (well, and maybe a couple of guys) who spend their days writing about potty training and fashion and the best way to field dress an elk. (Seriously, there is probably someone out there who has blogged about that.) There are about a million and a half blogs out there, each one screaming into the internet to COME READ WHAT I HAVE TO SAY.

And so, Blissdom. Training for people who blog. People who speak a language that their friends and kids and husbands don't understand.

This is the third year of the Blissdom Conference, and I've always been intrigued by it, but this is the first year I've actually been brave enough to sign up to go. I still haven't told many people that I'm actually going because I'm afraid that if I do, I'll get that glassy-eyed look that one friend gave me earlier this week. You know, the look that says, "Why would you want to do a crazy-a** thing like that?"

So I've avoided all talk of blogging and conferences with my friends for the most part.

But I'm going. And I leave tomorrow. I'll be gone for five days, and I've asked myself over and over again why I'm doing this. I mean, I'm not a serious blogger. Am I? I don't do this for money. Should I? And there's so much I don't know about blogging, even after almost three years.

Which is exactly why I'm going to Blissdom.

1. There's just so much I don't know about blogging. Oh sure, I probably know more than the average Joe about blogging, but Joe (or Jane) knows pretty much nothing. I only know next-to-nothing. So I figure I should go and learn a little more than nothing about blogging.

2. There will be people I have met before. Remember two years ago when I went to She Speaks? I met some really great women at that conference, and many of them will be at Blissdom. So I'm going to reconnect with some "old" friends (which, in the blogging world, is really "new" friends).

3. There will be people I have never met but I've wanted to meet. Like Robin, who I met because she loves Kiawah Island just about as much as I do. And lots of others I've "met" through blogging--women with common interests who inspire me.

4. There are some things I need to figure out about this blog. Like, should I keep blogging as a hobby? Or should I pursue more? More readers. More stats. Just, more. I don't know. So I'm going to Blissdom in a spirit of prayer, hoping to spend some time with God this weekend and really just trying to figure out what He wants with all this.

5. Well, there might also be a few parties and swag and a certain concert with Michelle Branch and Matt Kearney. All of these will make the trip even more worth it.

So there. A few reasons I've decided to geek out this weekend and head to Blissdom. I'm excited. Kind of. Nervous, really.

I'll let you know how it goes.

So, what are YOU doing this weekend?

Gratitude Journal

I realize that I've gotten away from recording the many things for which I'm thankful. The goal is to get to 1,000, and although I have a long way to go, I don't want to give up.

So I'm joining Ann Voskamp again today, sharing my thankfulness from the past few weeks.

33. Grace – I’ve needed a lot of it in the past week.
34. My new washing machine (!)
35. Fun times with family
36. Four-day weekends (o.k., that was two weekends ago, but still . . .)
37. A date with my husband
38. Successful lock-ins
39. Lunch with a friend with a beautiful heart
40. Roaring fires on really cold days
41. L (our girls’ babysitter when they were little) who is following God’s call to the mission field
42. Awesome times at church on Sunday
43. Bible study – gaining new insight into the Good Shepherd
44. My friends, who make me feel a little more normal
45. B, who still loves me despite the fact that I have given him very little reason to this week.
46. A great Saturday with Maggie, celebrating her upcoming birthday by going to see Wicked!
47. Daughters who are growing up and maturing in so many beautiful ways.
48. Unexpected encouragement in the form of blog comments (I'm so thankful for all of YOU!)
49. B's birthday this week
50. Maggie, whose sensitivity this morning touched my heart.

They are all around us, things for which we can be thankful. God IS good, and I'm holding on to that truth this week.

Fabulous Friday *Football* Food

Pssssst.

Just in case you haven’t heard yet, there’s a little football game on this Sunday. It’s called the Superbowl.

Just kidding! It isn’t the REAL Superbowl, but if you’re from around these parts, it might as well be. The Bears are playing the Packers for the chance to go to the Superbowl and nary a rivalry has been seen in NFL football history.

Just a few stats before we proceed.

- The Bears and the Packers have 48 players in the National Football Hall of Fame—more than any two teams combined.

- The Bears/Packers rivalry spans 90 years and 181 games—the oldest in NFL history.

- Sunday’s game will the first time since 1941 that the two teams have played for the Division Championship.

- The temperature right now in Chicago is -1. On game day, the high is predicted to be a balmy 21 degrees.

- Both the matriarch and the patriarch of the Wild fam household were raised in Bears families, thus you know who we will be rooting for this Sunday.

Things are crazy around here, kids. All the news is about the big game on Sunday. That’s all anybody is talking about.

Well, that and the weather which has been pretty dicey this week. We had some slushy rain earlier in the week which quickly froze, leaving our driveway and front walk looking pretty much like an ice skating rink. Seriously, the ice is about an inch thick. You’re taking your life in your hands to just go out to the garage!

That said, I haven’t ventured out very much this week. You’d think I’d be cooking up a storm with all the hanging around the house I’ve been doing, but I haven’t done much of that either.

So, in honor of the Superbowl this Sunday (I know, I know), and the actual Superbowl in two weeks (when I’ll have about 40 college kids descend on my house--yippee!) I thought I’d just give you some ideas of what I might serve at these events. So, you know, you can plan ahead and all.

Ina Garten’s Pan Fried Onion Dip – oh my! This is quickly becoming one of my favorite dips.

Chili Cheese Dip

Paula Deen’s Black Bean Salsa

My sister Jodi’s homemade salsa—a definite must, but I can’t give you the recipe right now. How ‘bout I promise to give it to you soon? Just to keep you coming back. (tee hee!)

Meatball subs. This doesn’t even take a recipe—I’ll just tell you how to do these if you’ll promise to make them. They are SO easy and SO gooooood!

- Go to Costco. Buy a bag of frozen meatballs.

- Go to Trader Joes. Buy a couple of cans of their TJ’s marinara (yes, it comes in a can for about $1.79). And if you don't have a Trader Joe's near you, let's just have a moment of silence, shall we?

- Put the meatballs in a crockpot; throw the marinara over the meatballs. Cook for several hours in the crockpot until the meatballs are tender.

- Serve on buns with provolone cheese. Mmmmmm.

I’m telling you, this is such a crowd-pleaser. There’s nothing to it, and everyone will be so happy.

Now, I've got stuff to do today, one of which is to go to Trader Joe's where I'll be picking up a few extra cans of their $1.79 Marinara Sauce. And I'll be preparing for all the football-watching and couch-sitting I'll be doing this weekend.

I know we'll be having fun. I hope you will be too.

So tell me, what are you doing this weekend?

Guest posting!!

Hi! Just bopping in to say that I'm guest posting at "Life . . . Your Way {Full}" today. Come read about Ten Inexpensive Ways to Beat the Wintertime Blues by yours truly. Because I know ALL about those wintertime blues. I'm sort of an expert, if you will.

See you tomorrow!

Generosity

Recently, B and I met with some of the leadership of our church to talk about a traditionally difficult subject. It’s not something we Christians like to bring into the daylight. It’s kind of personal. And some people think it should just be kept between husband and wife.

We talked about giving.

Yes, that kind of giving. The giving-away-your-money kind of giving.

Prior to our Sunday afternoon seminar all of us had gone through a four-week devotional by Gordon MacDonald called “Generosity.” This was an interesting little book. Thought-provoking. And difficult to read sometimes because of the many convicting little zingers MacDonald has sprinkled throughout the book. (Thanks for that.)

So, with that book in our minds, we settled in for a good, long discussion about generosity and giving and how these relate to our own personal lives and to the life of our church.

Three hours later, minds blown, spirits crushed, B and I headed to our car to have a nice long cry. Not really. We actually came away energized and excited about what God is doing and has allowed us to be a part of.

During the seminar we watched several video clips, but one in particular really got to us. It was a clip of Tim Keller speaking about idols. Whoo boy! Talk about convicting! Keller basically said, “Look around you. Look at how you spend your time and what you spend your money on. Those are your idols. And don’t think you don’t have them—everybody does.”

I wondered, as you might, as I’m sure the moderator wanted us to, what are my idols? I bet my family could answer that question better than I could. They know what I value, what makes me downright cranky when it’s taken away.

I’ve pondered this question for a while: what are my idols? and I’ve come to see that one of my biggest ones is my time. Lately I’ve felt pulled in many different directions. I get tired sometimes. I realize that I’d be a terrible minister because I don’t always deal very graciously with the demands placed on me.

And yet, God keeps bringing opportunities my way. Chances to come alongside others, lend a hand, bring a meal, chat over coffee, speak to women. A privilege—service, relationships, community—that I don’t take lightly.

Pair Keller’s thoughts with something that MacDonald said: “Heaven deals with the currency of love, grace, kindness, mercy, and benevolence. It recognizes the currency of humility, service, and witness. It honors the currency of defense on behalf of the widow and the orphan, the weak and the poor, the sick and the aged.”

As I read that I thought, that doesn't have much to do with money at all, and I realized that God also stores up the hours we spend showing grace to others as treasure in Heaven.

To me, time is a more valuable commodity than money. Money, to me, is different—I haven’t made any in years. *ha!* But I do have time, a limited amount every day that God is asking me to use to His glory, to pour into others, to extend grace.

Will I be generous with my time? Will you?

Now, if you're brave enough, let's talk about idols. What are the things that make you cranky if you don't have them? How can you open your hand and let go of these things?