…I was bored and I was at the height of my Midterm procrastination.
So I scanned my face.
When it turned out I couldn’t decide if I was terrified by it, mesmerized by it, proud of my efforts at artistry, or what.
Please give me your opinion. Is it:
a.) a la Halloween/X-files/Fringe/What-Lies-Beneath creepy movie
b.) artsy fartsy
c.) serene, romantic and picturesque as my nose breaks the plane of the waterfall
d.) none of the above (should you choose “d”, please give an alternate opinion)
It is an eternal theme and urging to worship in spirit and in truth. It is stirring in my heart, in the heart of our church and worship ministry, in our leaders, in our lives. Lift God, lift Jesus higher and higher. In all seasons, in all pain and hurt, and all triumph and prosperity, lift our Lord as he deserves the highest place.
Hillsong’s latest live album, This is Our God, was released recently and beats with heaven’s heart. Glorify God. Here is a documentary on the album as a whole as well as one specific song, Healer. Take 9 minutes out of your day to watch this.
And here is the song, Healer, sung by Mike & the Hillsong team.
I’m heading out for Ethiopia this afternoon and I must say I’m pumped, giddy, excited, rollin’ on the floor happy. I believe it’s going to shake so many people’s lives, including my own. I’m expecting to see God’s power move in, through, and around us. Please pray for the lives we encounter and that LASTING fruit will be a result. Please pray for the spiritual atmosphere as well as the practical, logistical side of things (transportation, luggage, health, etc). All in all, we need your prayer!
Thank you to all my friends and family for the incredible support you’ve given with this spur-of-the-moment trip. I’m loving you and missing you. Can’t wait to share some pictures and stories.
Until then, here’s one I just took that properly displays my enthusiasm right now…
Peace. Out.
IN THE THEATER: saw WALL·E tonight with my ma.
just a little personal activity on perspectives in life’s snapshot moments
i am currently surrounded by:
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…
I’ve been working with a plastic surgeon lately in order to discover the best new look for me. Many of you might understand why I need such work if you read my FishNose blog. I’m tired of Old Me and need New Me. I figure, while I’ve got the money, I might as well spend it on something worthwhile, something that would benefit all mankind. Something like me. God bless this world.
I’d like to take a vote on which makeover would suite me best. Please cast your vote (anonymously if you so desire) and I’ll take into consideration any suggestions you have. All I ask is for your sincere honesty. If I’m going to spend the money then I need to get it right the first time. The last thing I want is to get hooked on this Hollywood fad (insert plastic surgery salute here). So here’s the gist. My doc and I spent a few hours taking photos and altering the parts of my face that I wanted doctored: nose (obviously, fishface), ears, cheeks, etc. He emailed the pre-surgery sample pictures to me this morning and we’ll have a follow up meeting tomorrow. Please get back to me ASAP with your opinions and suggestions. I appreciate it!
Oh what a fun little gadget the stat bar is on wordpress blogs! But honestly, I’m slightly yet entirely baffled by the “search engine terms” section. Stop it…I don’t need help understanding how it works. I need help understanding who in the world puts things like “uncle josh trout” in the search engine then proceeds to read my blog? Some of the oddest terms this little tool has documented are:
and (my favorite)…
Yes, penut butter butt. Someone literally typed that in a search engine, found my blog, and read it. While I do say thanks for reading, I also ask, “Who in the world are you????” Please reveal yourself to me. I don’t want to make fun of you (I guess), I just want to meet your bizarre self. And I mean “bizarre” in the good way. If I already know who you are, bygolly don’t reveal your crazy side to me. I like you plain and simple, ordinary and robotic. Ignorance is bliss.
So readers…I’d like to know what crazy search engine terms people used to find your blogs…let ‘er rip!
I recently talked with a man who was one of the engineers behind the McDonald’s potato cutting machine, a machine responsible for perfectly slicing those delicious, piping hot fat sticks we hypnotically call French Fries. Wipe the spit off of your bottom lips, United States of Americans. I learned from him that a potato must be the right size and shape in order to make the Happy Meal team. In other words Mr. Stubby Spud aint got a chance. Such discrimination on the part of Ronald McDonald and Company baffles me. Tilt head to the side, cock one eye, lift one eyebrow, put index finger on temple, scratch forehead, and say “Whaaat?” I guess it’s just ironic, that’s all. Tall, slender french fries produce short, fat people. What kind of sick joke is this? Either those McD corporate bigwigs are brilliant or just plain old freaking obscene. You decide…
Many a years have passed and I’ve wondered why people are so afraid of their middle names. They’re the middle child of the name world, sandwiched between the comfortable and the loved. Shelley _______ J. It’s almost as if our lives are dependent on the top-secret information. Should it leak, our identities are blemished, our covers blown, and our character destroyed. Well, today I’m feeling overly confident, overly daring, overly vulnerable. (deep breath). Community of fellow fear-ridden middle-name holders, LET’S BE FREE! Here goes. Should you choose to follow my lead and announce to the world what only few people know, then I salute you. (e-high five).
My middle name is Diane and it means “divine”. Heck yes. I was named after my aunt. If you haven’t figured it out, her name was Diane. Famous people with that name or a variation of it: Princess Diana, Diane Keaton, and the goddess Diana of Ephesus. An interesting fact: the name peaked in the 1950s and has dropped off since then. Sad. So sad. And finally, there was a Diane I admired in the basketball world. I was a freshman and she was a senior on a rival team from Lamar. She kicked my butt, stuffed the ball back in my face, and I walked away from that game with fewer eyelashes and more black eyes than when I started. It’s a good story and I might share it someday.
SO…WHAT’S YOUR MIDDLE NAME??
Go find out some stuff about your middle name and proudly share it with the world. BE FREE!
what they have to say