oh happy day

Today I found a long-lost prized possession. I haven’t seen it for years, probably 5-6 years in fact. It represents many childhood memories, many emotional tear-filled moments, many friendships, many hours spent in front of the tube with the VCR while it cranked out my favorite movie of my younger years. What, you ask, is so special to my heart?! My “Beaches” soundtrack!!! I’m typing this blog with Bette serenading me in the background. Pure delight!

I know of at least one other person that shared this childhood passion (even to the point of cops being called out to her house because she was belting out Bette tunes too loudly. Ask her.) Yes, I thrived off of “Wind Beneath My Wings,” and maybe even “Baby Mine” or “The Glory of Love.” And more so, I always felt like I could relate to Bette’s character, CC Bloom. Oh the movie. Oh the memories. Any more Beaches fans out there?!?!

So what was your favorite movie as a child?

my favorite author and his song

If ever you feel unfulfilled or unsatisfied with what life appears to be, if ever you are searching for something past the superficial veils, beneath the surface of our skin, read C.S. Lewis. Even as an adult, every book in the Narnia series moves me to long for my Savior more, to have what Lucy had with Aslan or to know him in the many forms he takes, the many ways he reveals himself. Other books of his you must read: The Great Divorce and Mere Christianity. Yes, there are boatloads of books and short stories by this man, a man who seemed to know God in a unique way and who penned that relationship for us to consume years later. But these fit the point of the song below. Take time to read and mull over the lyrics of Brooke Fraser’s song. Like the Narnia series, and the 2 books mentioned above, it’ll have you craving something more than ourselves and our worlds. Our Maker, our Savior, and our Love.

Brooke Fraser’s ‘C.S. Lewis Song’

If I find in myself desires nothing in this world can satisfy,
I can only conclude that I was not made for here
If the flesh that I fight is at best only light and momentary,
then of course I’ll feel nude when to where I’m destined I’m compared

Speak to me in the light of the dawn
Mercy comes with the morning
I will sigh and with all creation groan as I wait for hope to come for me

Am I lost or just less found? On the straight or on the roundabout of the wrong way?
Is this a soul that stirs in me, is it breaking free, wanting to come alive?
‘Cause my comfort would prefer for me to be numb
And avoid the impending birth of who I was born to become

For we, we are not long here
Our time is but a breath, so we better breathe it
And I, I was made to live, I was made to love, I was made to know you
Hope is coming for me
Hope, He’s coming

ages 12 and under

whaddya do when you can’t sleep at 4-flippin-a.m.? blog.

here are some of the first memories that come to my mind when i remember these ages in my life:

3 years old: learning to read with my mother’s help on her bed; taking a nap in my pre-pre-kindergarten class on those colorful mats, balled up and shivering as i didn’t have a blanket (you had to bring your own or pay extra for one), and then feeling so taken care of when the teacher covered me with a blanket as i pretended to sleep; wishing my best friend at the time would move back from mexico, seeing it happen shortly thereafter, and thinking along the lines of ‘i thought this into existence’

4 years old: not being able to pronounce my r’s properly and being so frightened to get up in front of the class to recite my colors (i couldn’t say purple); wearing a dark blue peacoat in the winter, having a runny nose, and wiping all my snot up and down the sleeves till they were streaked; sticking q-tips in my ears to play alien, forgetting they were there, and then jumping head-first onto my parents’ bed, busting my eardrum

kindergarten: some kid tattle-tailing on me that i had my eyes open during class prayer (and not realizing that if he saw me with my eyes open during prayer then the punk had his eyes open, too); my mom teaching me how to calculate 10% of numbers in order to tithe; playing the alien ‘we gotcha’ atari game (joysticks!) with my brothers; my mom’s taco salad

1st grade: sighing really loud as my teacher told us we were learning how to multiply (i already knew how to do this and wanted to make sure everyone in the class knew how much smarter i was and how bored i was with the current subject matter. me=punk); my first competitive track meet and wearing my red school shirt and little white shorts

2nd grade: replicating a guitar with my class chair (the kind with a hole in the back) by using rubber bands as guitar ’strings’ and driving my teacher mad as i got the whole class to follow suit; the book-it club; jimmy potter stealing my pink slap-wrist bracelet; getting shivers up and down my body each time the teacher hit our desks with her yardstick; realizing cabbage patch dolls did not grow in nearby cabbage fields

3rd grade: my first basketball team, tiny hands, and the inability to convert on fast break lay-ups; trying to convince a classmate that the easter bunny was not real; guilt-tripping a girl into giving me the other half of her 2-part best friends necklace

4th grade: dunking a nerf football into the monkey bar openings with my friend, nate; the p.e. teacher that looked like he swallowed a basketball; oregon trail

5th grade: watching my brother’s high school basketball games; impressing my teacher with my perfect cursive; really getting into spanish soap operas i couldn’t understand (our live-in maid slept in the same room as me and stayed up late watching these shows); early mornings, pink and purple running shorts with spandex underneath, 5K road races, trophies, and blue ribbons

stay tuned: middle school, high school, and beyond are still to come

now it is your chance to share some of your most vivid childhood memories…

eye-spy an eye-witness to my eye-dentity

I figured I should blog since I haven’t for about a week now. This one is just uninspired, uncreative, and simply for unleashing my mind.

It is very apparent and real that I’m searching for who I am, what makes up the insides of me, my heart, my brain, my personality. I’m on a kick right now trying to discover (scientifically and analytically) that definition.

• In the last week, I’ve checked out books on personality and career profiles to match those personalities (such as Do What You Are, a must-read according to a highly respected professor of mine). 
• Additionally I’m reading another book (Never Be Lied to Again) on how to read people in hopes that I’ll gain an upper hand on my communication skills. Don’t worry. I’m not a compulsive liar and am not paranoid that I’m lied to every second of the day; I just want to know how to read people’s tells.
• Soon I will read another book on utilizing those learned skills through persuasive communication. (That professor also highly recommended Artful Persuasion, one I’ll eventually get my paws on.)
• Tonight I took 2 different IQ tests (just refer to me as ‘nerd,’ not because of a brainy score, but because of the fact that I had to take the IQ test to fulfill the compulsive urge and then take a different one in order to verify the validity of the score).
• In addition to those 2 tests I also took 2 personality tests tonight. The Myer Briggs test labeled me as an ENTJ (Extraverted, Intuitive, Thinking, Judging)–or Rational Fieldmarshal according to the other test’s interpretation–just like Hillary Clinton, Napoleon, and some back-in-the-day US presidents.) Dude. I almost wet myself out of fear. Eye-opening and frightening all at once.
• A few days ago I reread the printout of my Clifton StrenghtsFinder “Living Your Strengths” test: in case you’re wondering, my profile is Intellection, Connectedness, Restorative, Learner, Input. Super-dee-duper!
• And finally, I went back over my DISC profile ORCC/MHM administers to every employee (something I am grateful for). High C and High D. I like to think, organize my thoughts, and get things done. No BS please.

I’m piecing together all of this for some reason. I just need to know who I am, where I’m headed, what the heck I like to do, how I go about doing it, and with whom to work alongside. 

If you by chance have a good idea of who I am and what the heck I’m meant to do with my life, please let me know. I’m obviously considering every other opinion out there as it is. Why not seek more valuable input?

p.s. I shall soon write a blog where almost every word has a link to a picture or website. I shall.