A lifetime ago I was at Cooper's Rock in West Virginia. The view of the tree covered Appalachian Mountains was stunning. I stood there overwhelmed and dumbstruck. Being outside in the mountains or a forest or the beach leaves me feeling connected to God in a way that a church has never been able to mimic. In this hallowed moment of personal worship, someone uttered the most ridiculous statement I think I've ever heard. "When I look at that, I think to myself, 'Wow, that's a lot of trees.'" We all laughed. This statement still pops into my head from time to time, and it did the other night as I listened to a talk radio show. (I'm addicted to talk radio the way some people are addicted to reality t.v.) The host was talking about some study that found a formula for unhappiness. Basically, we are unhappy when our idea of what our life should be is different from it's reality. Okay, so it was another "that's a lot of trees" statement, but...

As we grow...we are less inclined to say, "I wonder why God allowed this or that?" And we begin to see that the compelling purpose of God lies behind everything in life, and that God is divinely shaping us into oneness with that purpose. (My Utmost for His Highest, August 5) I stopped asking "why" twenty days ago when I first read this. Oh, I still complain and cry and swear and wonder from time to time just how the minutiae of my life is shaping me into God's purpose. But I suppose that deep down I really believe this, so I keep trudging along through what seems like an unending field of uncertainty. It's moments like this that make me really miss my therapist. I'm in a pretty crummy state of mind. Chalk it up to the chaos in my life combined with the fact that I am married to a man who interprets everything that pours from my mouth as either, "you're stupid" or "you don't know how to manage money" or "you're irresp...

In case you didn't know, today is August 7. I have been waiting for this day for months now, thinking it would never get here and wishing it would take its time because the new school year was just around the corner. Eclipse was released today. My Barnes & Noble gift card has been burning a hole in my wallet waiting for the moment I crossed the threshold into the store. Everyone who knows me well knows that although I love learning and reading, I don't particularly care for fiction. Never have. I still read it from time to time, i.e. when I find something that resonates with me or truly revolts me. Poor Nadia has had to listen to me complain about the crap that gets published and I waste my time reading. (I owe you for that.) The exceptions for my anti-fiction rhetoric have been the Left Behind series and the Twilight series ( Stephenie Meyer's fantastic vampire series). Eclipse is the third book. Finally holding this book in my hands was like smelling a freshly showe...

And the voice you need to hear is the true and the trusted kind With a soft, familiar rhythm in these swirling, unsure times When the waves are lapping in and you're not sure you can swim Well here's the lifeline ("This is Love"/Mary Chapin Carpenter) Several months ago I started putting together my life story in the form of a scrapbook. Tonight, I pulled it out again and took a lovely stroll through my memory. I reached for the last set of pictures to go in the book and stopped at the very last one--my high school graduation. The event was a little different for me. Basically, I withdrew myself from high school after the first semester of my junior year of high school. Between my mother's deteriorating mental health and my desperate attempts to hold together the family I had left, I could find no significance to sitting in American Government discussing upcoming football games. High school life seemed so self-absorbed ...

My cousin, Rachel, and her almost-four-month-old baby spent the weekend with me. We both needed the down time to sleep and laugh and pour out our hearts (something we've been doing since we were 10 and 17). Rachel is one of my kindred spirits who embodies an amazing ability to accept you as you are but not let you walk all over her. It's one of my favorite qualities in her. As our time together neared it's end, we landed in an extremely emotional discussion about choices and consequences and the human spirit. At one point, my faced scrunched up and I yelled, "Why do we have to be so mean to each other?" She looked at me and said, "We all forget that we're human and don't like the reminder that we all make mistakes." Think about that one for a minute while I compose myself. There was a time in my life when I sat in my own ivory tower and passed judgment on those around me. I could spot a sin a mile away and rested in the knowledge that I could po...

I thought it was bad enough today when I waited in line at the post office for thirty minutes to mail a package I promised would go out today. I thought it was bad enough today when I wandered through the grocery store for twenty minutes looking for Cheese Whiz. I thought it was bad enough today when I waited for three hours for my husband to get back from his one hour errand. That's nothing. I've stayed in destructive relationships with people just to avoid feeling like the time I spent with them was a waste. I've lost years' worth of sleep staying up late to write because I had to work three jobs to pay the rent. I gave up most of my life feeling like I could never fit in with a group of people because there was something wrong with me. I earned a degree and slaved away at jobs trying to figure out a way to marry my dreams with the dreams everyone else has for me. I hate wasting time. Life is too precious.

There once were two dogs who wanted to please their master and earn the master's love through obedience. They raced to see who would be first to greet their master and then tried to outjump each other to show who loved the master more. Each one would bring the master a slipper and the newspaper, and they even learned how to carry the laundry basket. When the master wasn't around, they pushed and bit each other and fought epic battles for the top position within the pack. They counted out the number of kibble pieces and kept track of the length of their walks with the master believing that this would show which dog was more loved. And they compared notes. "On Tuesday, you got to climb onto the bed. I don't get to do that." "But I was sick, so that doesn't count. Besides, you got a new collar in my favorite color." This went on for years. The dogs struggled and battled and neither ever seemed content in his position within the pack. They wasted so much...

Pain. This four letter word is comprised of so much more than the four letters that form it. In fact, in our culture, pain is quite the abomination. At the first twinge of a headache, we pop some pain killers. It's easier than addressing the stress or poor nutrition or even exhaustion responsible. When a child cries, we shut them up with humiliation--"Big boys (or girls) don't cry." Our mantra is to "suck it up" as we carry our excruciating burdens with a smile plastered on our face. Why are we so afraid of pain? This aversion to pain is even more amazing in the context of relationships. It always seems that when we break up or end a friendship or even face a death, we do whatever we can to eradicate any proof of it's existence. Photographs are cropped or destroyed or packed away in boxes. Friends and family are sworn to secrecy, no longer allowed to utter the offending names. Gifts are returned or exploded in a backyard bonfire. All this in the name of ...