Place

Disclaimer: I am so guilty of the following, that I hope you see this not so much as a charge from a guiltless judge, but more of an inner-workings-out of what's going on in my heart right now.

It seems to me that there is a very peculiar inclination of the human heart. We have the tendency to allow place and our sense of home/belonging to rise up in our hearts to a seat of great prominence. We identify ourselves and others with where we are from - which, oddly, may not be where we are living currently. What's one of the first things we ask a new person, or tell someone we've just met - where we're from, where we live. It can be general - New Jersey; regional - North Jersey; or specific - county/town. It seems innocuous and just idle chatter, but why is that what we go for instead of other topics? Why do we care about where people are from?

It's not as if this is a modern phenomenon. All through the Bible, in fact, the general theme for much of it, people are searching for home. Thrown from the Garden of Eden, we are ever wanderers, looking for the place where we belong. We are aliens, not at home here on this earth, but always searching for a place to call our own despite that. Ruth got it right when she left Moab with Naomi because she knew Naomi was more a definition of home than Moab. 

But what happens when we become so attached to where we were that we find ourselves unable to truly live where we are? 

I am always quick to lament the loss of good food - bagels, pizza, Chinese food, and diners do not exist here. At least, not with the quality which I grew up accustomed to eating. (Though, thank the Lord, we have found a good pizza place in Lexington, so I know there may be hope yet.) (And that is not a sarcastic thanks be to God, it's genuine.) And not only food, but The City, the Adirondacks, the Shore. All things irreplaceable. All things I love dearly. All things that are wrapped up in my sense of self. Even things like weather and seasonal patterns of agriculture. Family and friends go without saying.

I become so busy lamenting what I've "lost", that I forget to find the joy in what I've gained. Comparison is the thief of joy, as Teddy so eloquently pointed out, and joy ought to be the desire of our hearts.

But it goes beyond robbing ourselves of joy. It's straight up disobedience. I find myself thinking of Jonah here. He was so determined to not go where God had appointed him to go, that he spent three days and nights in the belly of a great fish. His disobedience led to his suffering greatly. My disobedience and hardened heart has led to my suffering (needlessly, I'd add). By not trusting God that he has brought me to a good place, how my heart has suffered in the throes of self-inflicted sorrow, jealousy, anger, bitterness, and grumbling. When God led my husband to a job 800 miles away from where we were hoping to live, from where our families lived, I can tell you that I channeled my inner Jonah. I suppose it helped that we had no other job offer to persuade us one way or the other, our path was quite clear. But it didn't help. I still grumbled. I still do grumble. Jonah never did "get it" in the end, but I know there's hope for me yet.

The strangest part of this whole problem for me personally is that I am an Anthropology major. I love people and places. I love to travel. My heart has yearned for nearly 20 years to be in Kenya. And yet I hold on to New Jersey like some kind of anchor.

Do you know what anchors do? My five year old told me about an imaginary anchor that would float in the air. Then she started laughing hysterically and proclaimed how silly that would be! Do you know why? Because even a child knows that anchors do not float. Anchors sink, grab hold of the bottom, and stop the ship. Even a very great ship is held by an anchor properly placed. Anchors, however, can be hauled up and put down in new ports.

There should be no anchors in my life that keep me from moving forward. Forward in the direction I ought to go. Forward without grumbling or complaining. Forward to the far horizons.

New places do not mean that old places aren't important. But we can not physically live in two places at once, and our hearts shouldn't strive to either. 

Ebenezers are stones of remembrance, erected under the direction of the Lord, to ensure we don't forget His goodness and faithfulness. They are used to help us teach our children as we pass by them. The old places do not need to be forgotten, but Ebenezers are not meant to be idols.

The places we have come from have influenced us, formed our view of life and our place in it, but we should not confuse that with our inherent worth and self. By rejecting the new places, and honoring the old, we take the gift God has given us, and rob it of the joy with which it was given. Once again, our pride and disobedience declares that we know better, and that everything would be much better, if only He had let us stay right where we were before. For pete's sake, even the Israelites, after escaping from Egypt, declared it would have been better to remain slaves that be brought to die in the desert. But they didn't die then, they were saved.

By remaining obedient and faithful, trusting the Lord's wisdom and not our own, we can start to let go of the petty things that seem so important - food, fairs, cities, mountains, and beaches - and begin to appreciate the good things we have here and now. Wherever we may lay our head at night becomes home simply because we remember that our home isn't here anyway.

"For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling" 

2 Corinthians 5:1,2

Meandering Back

When I was younger, I would play a game with myself - I'd memorize license plates and people's features in the hopes that something major was about to happen and the police would need an eyewitness. I wanted to be that eyewitness. Now, I also enjoyed reading a book full of crime scene photos to try and figure out what happened, so perhaps I was a bit preoccupied with justice from a young age ;) That, or I was just a weirdo. But anyway. 

(Now, before you say, "Why would any parent let their kid read such a thing?!" - because you know you're thinking it - let me tell you that I'm not even sure where the book came from, or that my parents knew I had it on my bookshelves in my closet. Yes, shelves. I had many, many books. So they can't be blamed for my interesting reading habits.)

I could memorize phone numbers after hearing or seeing them once. It was no trouble for me to find my way places after one visit (which, thankfully, I can still do most of the time. Being blessed with a sense of direction is nothing to sneeze at, trust me). People's names and faces were easily connected in my mind, along with what they were wearing, where they stood and even how they spoke.

Honestly, I had a gift.

And yet, somewhere between then and now I've lost it. Gone. Never to return. Not sure if it's my old age (I mean, seriously, I'm practically hobbling along) or the fact that I've given birth to two small humans, but my brain has left the building. Let's blame this one on the kids. During both pregnancies I'd lovingly refer to my children as parasites. Dan didn't like that so much, but he didn't experience the mind-numbing effects that a pregnancy can bring on - exhaustion from sharing all you have with another being, and slowly having your brains drip down the umbilical cord. This has led me to a theory that the reason we have generational sin is because as our dear children are in-utero, they are able to basically download all our past transgressions and store them for future use. Whether it be a stubborn and contrite spirit, or a general mischievousness, those kids have learned it all from sucking out my memories.

Anyway, scientific hypothesis aside, suffice it to say that this old gray mare, she ain't what she used to be. And somehow this makes me develop a restlessness like never before. I've always been a fairly restless person. I'm not the type to want to stay home all the time. Let me go, let me out, let me run free across the mountains and prairies! I could not wait to leave for college and explore the world. Every other week as a child I'd want to be something else, go somewhere else, find something new to discover. Basically I was, and still am, a career schizophrenic. Truly I think there are so many jobs I'd love (as long as they allow creative freedom and don't make me sit behind a desk 9-5).

I was reminded of this last night. For the past few days I've been messing around with different signs, cards and other goodies that let me flex any creative muscles my taxed brain has left. Whenever I start getting involved in projects like this, I think to myself, "Self, you could have a lot of fun as a graphic designer." You can also insert fabric, stationery (but definitely not stationary), cake or just about any art for graphic in that sentence.

Then, I watched an interesting program on KET about an anthropologist named Melville Herskovits. I don't remember hearing about him before, but it's entirely possible I spent a semester on him. (Please see previous paragraphs for explanations as to how this is so) He studied under Franz Boas, an anthropologist who is considered the founding father of American anthropology, and someone who is near and dear to my heart. (Not like that hag Margaret Mead, but we won't go into that here, since most of you are already lost I'm sure) At any rate, it made my heart ache to be back learning under Dr. Hummer and Dr. Meneses. I think the time I spent at Eastern in the Anthropology & Missions dept. was one of the best of my life. The friends in those classes are on my mind often, and just bring a smile to my face. Watching just made me so wistful, and I began to think of all the different paths my life could have taken if I had made different choices to pursue academia more.

But my life didn't take those paths. There are no alternate universes. (I have never ever seen an episode of Lost in my life, but noticed a lot of Facebook status updates today regarding this show and the idea of alternate universes. Any references made in the comments will be utterly lost on me - no pun intended) And I think part of the working out, as it were, of my restless mind and nature is one of the reasons I so often fail when I set goals for myself. I get bored, distracted and forgetful, and abandon half finished projects for the next thing.

Lately I've been so busy, then sick, that I've had nearly no opportunity to run or work out. And I find myself half wanting to head over the the track, and half wanting to just say, "Oh forget it, it's only a fun run, so I can walk that whole thing". That, however, would mean I had once again failed to finish, and let my restless (and yet lazy) spirit take the victory.

So tomorrow I'm going running. (Tonight we have potluck at church, and I've missed two weeks in a row already. Since this is my primary social event of the week, I just can't miss again or I'll go crazy). And this weekend I'll go running.

I've got to give focus to the wanderlust of my heart. Or it may just wander off on to another trail again, and we can't have that now.

Off

Sometimes you just need to take a break from the everyday and have a little time off. For Dan, that day was Friday. Work has been extremely stressful for him lately - which is a blessing, of course, in its own way - but still. If you have a job, it can stress you out and you need time off. And that's that.

But, I will tell you that I did not take a day off from running. Despite my weariness and really not wanting to go, I went to the indoor track. But I didn't get as far as I would normally. It was rough, and a bit discouraging. Yesterday, thanks to glorious weather granted by the Lord, Dan and I both went running. He ran to the park, while I drove the kids over, then he played at the playground with them while I ran through the park. Let me tell you something:

Outdoor running on the hills is not easy. I thought I was going to pass out a time or two, no exaggeration. I was relieved to see a police officer parked in one of the lots because I thought, "Well, if I really start to feel bad, I'm heading there for help". Not sure if it's good to have an escape route or not while running, but it made me feel better. On the way home, and for the rest of the evening, the whole right side of my chest felt tight and a bit constricted. Come to think of it, if I'm going to keep running, I ought to get myself an inhaler again. I think I gave my last one away to my younger brother when he was down back in September. Hmm. Yes, it does help to breathe properly.

You know how sometimes you just feel off? Something isn't right, though you can't put your finger on it, and it usually exerts itself throughout your whole body - spirit, mind, and physical well-being all seem to suffer. I've felt that way lately. My head has been feeling light and disconnected, sore back and neck muscles, and my mind seems unable to focus on anything at all. So if anyone talks to me, I apologize if I seem like some kind of space cadet. I'm not sure what's going on right now. (and you can probably tell it in this horrible writing. I'm barely able to bring myself to even post this, but I have to... because, well, that's the point)

But I'll tell you this, it's frustrating me to no end. For one thing, I need every mental faculty I have to keep tabs on my two rambunctious munchkins. Not to mention it makes I shudder at the thought of running or working out because of it. But the real kicker is how it is bringing down my spirit, and that is not something I take lightly.

You see, many moons ago, when I was but a wee babe in the Pleistocene Era... Ok, well, not that long ago, but long enough that I feel able to talk about it publicly in this way... I went through some very dark times. Very little mattered to me, though very few knew or could tell. And now, as an older, wiser (ha), more mature (ha again!) adult (oh gracious me, I'm an adult), I can recognize signs that I am slipping into a melancholy. Those melancholy times are scant skipping stones to the deeper depression that I know I can be dragged into with a despondent and discontent spirit. This is one reason why I take discouragement very much to heart. And then why I also take true joy and encouragement to heart as well.

Some of you may never know the true joy my heart feels when you share even a simple word with me, whether through email, phone call, facebook or in person. There are so many people who have often held me strong when I found myself floundering to remember my Creator and Sustainer - people who have taken my chin and lifted up my face to look into His. What few people know is that even if I have not talked to them in far too long, they are still in my heart and when I see them again I know that I will still feel that incredible affection I felt before. My friends are my friends for life, and more often than not, family in the truest and deepest sense of the word.

So I ask you, friends, for one thing. Pray for me. Pray that I might be relieved of this despondent spirit. Pray that am able to find comfort in the Savior. Pray that my heart and mind are protected from the darkness which seeks to draw me down and attack me when I feel physically unable to fight.

Whole & Well

This entry has been writing and rewriting itself for some time. The biggest obstacle I've been facing in getting it to settle down into submission is that it's composed of thoughts I've been thinking through, and growing with, for quite some time. One of the problems I find when writing is that there are so many things I want to say, to explain, that I find myself backtracking and wandering about as if in a glade. It's an open space, surrounded by woodland - each trail circles back into the glade, but not before I chase the thought through trees, over streams, and around some big rocks. It's hard enough for me to get them in order within my own head, but to try and convey that to others - ah the mysteries of intelligent and excellent writing. I have some friends who are very, very talented writers; I envy them often.

Here's the basic idea I've got going: life is not simple, nor is creation simple, yet people are constantly trying to make everything simple. The main problem is that our usual practice is to break things down again and again until we assume that because we have all the pieces (or so we think), we now have the answer. One very important idea gets pushed to the wayside - there is much more to, well, everything quite frankly, than the pieces that make it up.

Before I was an Anthropology major, I had entered college a dedicated Biology major, on the fast track even. I skipped over intro classes thanks to my high AP test scores in the subject, and jumped right into sophomore level classes. Until I hit Chemistry. This will forever be my downfall. Subjects which require logic, equations and numbers in general are not within my realm of comprehension. I will gladly boast that I have not taken one math course since junior year of high school (Pre-Calc), and I'm still a contributing member of society. So there Middle School Math Teacher! Ahem.

It was the same semester I realized Chemistry was my nemesis that I was also taking an elective course - Anth101, introduction to cultural anthropology. This, my friends, is what I like to call The Great Awakening. (Forget those 18th Century Protestants, they didn't know what they were talking about) Here was a subject that ignited passion in my heart and also made a tremendous amount of sense in my pea brain. It took some time before I made the big connection - the reason I love(d) studying Anthropology was that it was so incredibly holistic. 

When I announced my grand plan to switch majors, and ever after, people often gave me a quizzical look, followed by the dreaded question: "What can you do with that?" I can proudly declare, "Anything I want!" You see, Anthropology covers the realms of every other science and humanity and art and whatever else you can think of that might be included within the human experience.

God did not create the earth in such a way that each element, plant, animal or mineral works on its own without interaction from any other living, or non-living, entity. In fact, it seems very clear to me, not only from my senses, but also from reading The Word, that He has made everything to work and live in relationship to the rest of creation. And I'm not talking some hippy-dippy, pantheistic nature worship here, just to be clear.

With the Fall, it was not just Man that has had to pay the consequences. Indeed, the whole earth groans with the tragedy of being no longer in right relationship with God and itself. Man has turned against man, man against nature, nature against itself; and always we are searching for ways to make it right. To somehow piece back together what was broken. Which, of course, is impossible without the intervention of God.

So what does this have to do with anything I've written about previously? I warned you, didn't I? I'm a trail follower. It's probably why I do such much better at talking than writing.

Humanity has gotten severely out of touch with food, particularly in The West. Our pride has deluded us into thinking we can understand the way everything works, and can then break it down, figuring out exactly what nutrients are best and what "bad" foods we ought to avoid. How can we even begin to rely on science to deliver us from problems that scientists don't understand? It should be glaringly obvious to us all that every attempt humans make at putting things aright often end in bigger disaster than the problem we started out with in the first place. 

Now, I assure you that I'm not some kind of crunchy, tree-hugging, organic, locally-grown fanatic here to shove some dogma down your throat with that $20 granola. BUT as I began to think about the food I place in my mouth, it began to occur to me that most of it was pretty much garbage. Processed junk food. And I'm not talking about potato chips here. I mean nearly all of it. Obesity, diabetes, heart disease, etc (the "Western Diseases", known as such because they usually follow the introduction of the "Western Diet") - all of it has risen over the very time that many of our foods are claiming to make us more nutritious. But how can human created foods really be more nutritious than the ones God has given to us? Humans tinker about as if we know everything about everything, and we trust scientists to declare what foods we ought to be eating.

God has created a wonderful and complex human being in each of us. And I find that one of the reasons I have so failed previously is because even if I eat what some box tells me is "nutritious," well, I'm still eating the same stuff that is in every other box on the shelf. Too much of all the processed foods and not enough of the whole foods that are available out there. God knew what he was doing when he created broccoli, carrots, eggs, apples, cows, chickens and the rest of it. Why should I take what a human has created in substitution for what He offers me?

I know this may sound like crazy ranting and raving of a liberal crunch, but I assure you, it's not some new fangled idea I've picked up recently. Nor is it my own unique idea. In fact, look back throughout human history. We may not have many of the communicable diseases we once did, but we have an inordinate problem with dietary related diseases. The one I suffer from happens to be weight related. And do you know how many of those dietary related diseases can be reversed in a person simply by changing diet? It's incredible!

So, as I go on this journey of running and exercising, I'm also watching what I put in my mouth. It's always brought me joy to cook, and so as I strive to make better decisions, I will start making more things from scratch (if I find something good, I'll be sure to share it here). Most everything tastes better that way in any case (with the exception of Mac & Cheese. Oh how I love store brand, bright orange mac & cheese). And hopefully, I pray earnestly, that this will be the year I finally have a garden (it has been in my heart and on the back burner for far, far too long). My Burpee catalog came the other day and I nearly squealed with delight. And the sites I look to for other plant/gardening related stuff are really starting to advertise in earnest. Ohhh I'm excited for sowing and harvesting!

I realize this post may seem a bit out there, and very much discombobulated, but I did the best I could without actually writing a book on my thoughts. Anyone ever watch Alton Brown? You know that lady he has on sometimes - the Nutritional Anthropologist? That's my new dream job. I would love to study the relationship humans and their food have shared throughout history. But working with food for a living might not be a good idea, eh? ;)

 

 

 

 

 

There is a whole host of information out there about what you should or should not be eating, and it seems to change every time you turn around. There have been a few books I love to read that touch on these subjects, including Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver, and several books by Michael Pollan. Just in case you're interested

Birds

If there is one thing I can say about my daughter, two-year old A.M., it's that she has an incredible amount of passion. Some may deem it the obsessions of a two year old mind, and they'd be right, but it seems to work itself out in every facet of her life. There is little that she does not approach with gusto and nearly complete abandon; and once she gets an idea in her head, it's there for the long haul. I assure you that this is a blessing and a curse for me, her mother.

We made a conscious choice not to push Santa in this house. He isn't banned outright, but the kids don't receive presents from him, and we don't bring him up. But there are many influences on a small child, including church, TV and stores. Even walks around the neighborhood. So these past few weeks have been full of "Santa!" and eventually, "Santa gone. Oh no. Santa...?" as neighbors slowly remove their decorations from the front doors and walks of their homes. I remind her that he lives far away and can only visit people once a year. This has seemed to suffice.

There are other obsession, however, that I am more glad to feed. Like birds. A.M. is fascinated by and delighted with birds in all shapes and sizes. Birds fly, birds hop, birds tweet (though not on Twitter, as far as I know) and, perhaps most importantly, birds EAT. A few weeks ago, prompted by a visit to a friend's home where she helped refill the feeders and by the disappearing "berries" (really bradford pears) on our trees, A.M. and I took a trip to Lowes and picked up some bird feeders for our home. The excursion alone was filled with more than enough excitement as she was overcome by dozens of styles of bird feeders, and the accompanying seeds. I'm sure more than a few customers could hear the squealed delights of "BIRDS! BIRD FEEDERS! BIRDS EAT!" echoing through the high ceilings of the warehouse. You can bet those feeders went up the minute we got home.

Despite a slow start, I can assure you those feeders have been visited by a great many birds, and each visit has been reported by our budding ornithologist. A.M. is barely awake before she speeds over to her window, which has a prime view of the feeders (naturally), and declares that there are in fact breakfasters enjoying suet & seeds, or thistles. Earlier this week there were at least a half dozen small finches munching away on the thistle seeds, making the feeder seem more like a springtime beehive than a winter eatery. That was a great day.

Those $15 (or whatever small amount) we spent on the supplies has brought unending joy to not only A.M., but our whole family. There is much delight in a parent's heart when your child discovers new and wonderful things in creation, and I can assure you that E.F., our 6 month old, is delighted in his big sister's ecstasy as well. (Well, if his constant smiling and reaching for her are any indication, maybe you just need to trust me on this one)

And there are many more things that bring her glee in this world - snow, for one (makes her northern born parents proud!), and eating fruits of all kinds, trees, running, walking (though not as much as running), riding in the car, friends and Mamaws and Papas. Of course those passions do turn into bad habits as well - the realization that a mobile little brother means perhaps more sharing is in her future. A.M. is not always a willing participant in this sharing thing, and her passion to be master of all exhibits itself in some ugly encounters that often end in tears and time outs.

So why do I share these seemingly mundane stories? Well, because we all have passion, and yet these can turn against us in the worst way. One of my passions in life is food. I adore food - buying it, preparing it, eating it, sharing it with others. One of my other passions is to be lazy at a great many things. Oh, don't get me wrong, I can busy myself right up into a first class whirlwind, but I can find myself complacent and languid just as easily. And so here is my problem: The two passions I find myself drawn to are not conducive to a life of wholeness.

I have a great confession I need to make: I lack all self-control when it comes to food. I will, and have, eat myself into a state of over-stuffed, bloated and nearly sickening proportions in a quest to just have another taste. Ask my mother what happens each time she cooks a pot of mashed potatoes. The poor woman should have invested in pad-locked cookery for such occasions. Or, even more, ask my husband how I respond to an unending supply of french fries (such as the constant refill you can get at places like Red Robin, one of my favorite restaurants). I would rather feel sick than not eat a few more fries. There is something severely wrong with that. It doesn't extend to all foods, but I find myself acting this way with most meals. I have often joked with my husband that I lack the chemical switch in my brain that functions as the "You're Full. Stop Eating" alarm. There is, of course, such a disorder, I saw it on Discovery or something like that, but I doubt I've really got the disease. It seems to me it comes down to simple lack of will to what is best and right - selfishness in hyperbolic mode; selfishness which brings me no gain, but really my own destruction. And ultimately, isn't that what all selfishness does?

The Bible has a great many things to say against gluttony, selfishness and laziness - all factors in my struggle to become healthy. And I know that any attempt I make in which I say, "I can do this! I can beat this stuff," will undoubtedly end in failure. Because I can not do this. I can not beat it on my own. If 27 years of living has not already taught me that, then The Word certainly does. I know people so readily claim verses such as Philippians 4:13, 2 Corinthians 12:9 and Ephesians 3:16 (to name a very few), as great beacons of hope in times of trial and tribulation. And for good reason. There is no doubt that the Lord is faithful and it is only in the gift of his Spirit and strength we are able to do any thing whatsoever. Drawing a breath is impossible were it not for the mercy of the Lord to grant that breath to the recipient.

And yet. And yet.

I find it hard to just snatch verses from the Bible as if they are some kind of lucky rabbit's foot for my gain. Perhaps it the old adage beaten into me since Teen Doctrine in 8th grade with Pastor Howard - "Context is King." It seems strange to me to just grab a snippet and say, "Ah-ha! Here, here at last, the answer I have long sought for!" I know, I know, it's my contrary nature, too. I don't want things to be easy. But as I look at His Word as a whole, I know and I see and I taste that it is good, and that it does in fact reveal to me that there is no way to be redeemed but by his precious mercy and grace. Through grace alone have I been saved, not of myself, so that I may not boast; and it is no longer I that live, but Christ that lives in me.

So I have decided that running is not merely a physical battle of wills - me versus my own body's weaknesses. Nor is it a purely mental battle - me versus the inner voices of nightmares working against me. But it is also a spiritual battle in which I have to give over the selfishness, laziness and passions which are of the flesh. It is, in fact, all three of these things working in concert.

I'm what you might call a "whole-ist." I see things as vast webs of interconnectedness that can't be extracted or untangled by simply pulling one. But that's all for another post. Perhaps later today, or tomorrow. Trust me, it's a whole entry unto itself (One that has been writing itself in my head for a few days now). Instead, I leave you with this, if it doesn't declare the sovereignty of God, well... (Fun Fact: This is the Psalm I had been mediating on the morning of the day Dan proposed to me)

Psalm 104 (NASB)

    ¹Bless the LORD, O my soul!
         O LORD my God, You are very great;
         You are clothed with splendor and majesty,
    ²Covering Yourself with light as with a cloak,
         Stretching out heaven like a tent curtain.
    ³He lays the beams of His upper chambers in the waters;
         He makes the clouds His chariot;
         He walks upon the wings of the wind;
    ⁴He makes the winds His messengers,
         Flaming fire His ministers.
    ⁵He established the earth upon its foundations,
         So that it will not totter forever and ever.
    ⁶You covered it with the deep as with a garment;
         The waters were standing above the mountains.
    ⁷At Your rebuke they fled,
         At the sound of Your thunder they hurried away.
    ⁸The mountains rose; the valleys sank down
         To the place which You established for them.
    ⁹You set a boundary that they may not pass over,
         So that they will not return to cover the earth.
    ¹⁰He sends forth springs in the valleys;
         They flow between the mountains;
    ¹¹They give drink to every beast of the field;
         The wild donkeys quench their thirst.
    ¹²Beside them the birds of the heavens dwell;
         They lift up their voices among the branches.
    ¹³He waters the mountains from His upper chambers;
         The earth is satisfied with the fruit of His works.
    ¹⁴He causes the grass to grow for the cattle,
         And vegetation for the labor of man,
         So that he may bring forth food from the earth,
    ¹⁵And wine which makes man's heart glad,
         So that he may make his face glisten with oil,
         And food which sustains man's heart.
    ¹⁶The trees of the LORD drink their fill,
         The cedars of Lebanon which He planted,
    ¹⁷Where the birds build their nests,
         And the stork, whose home is the fir trees.
    ¹⁸The high mountains are for the wild goats;
         The cliffs are a refuge for the shephanim.
    ¹⁹He made the moon for the seasons;
         The sun knows the place of its setting.
    ²⁰You appoint darkness and it becomes night,
         In which all the beasts of the forest prowl about.
    ²¹The young lions roar after their prey
         And seek their food from God.
    ²²When the sun rises they withdraw
         And lie down in their dens.
    ²³Man goes forth to his work
         And to his labor until evening.
    ²⁴O LORD, how many are Your works!
         In wisdom You have made them all;
         The earth is full of Your possessions.
    ²⁵There is the sea, great and broad,
         In which are swarms without number,
         Animals both small and great.
    ²⁶There the ships move along,
         And Leviathan, which You have formed to sport in it.
    ²⁷They all wait for You
         To give them their food in due season.
    ²⁸You give to them, they gather it up;
         You open Your hand, they are satisfied with good.
    ²⁹You hide Your face, they are dismayed;
         You take away their spirit, they expire
         And return to their dust.
    ³⁰You send forth Your Spirit, they are created;
         And You renew the face of the ground.
    ³¹Let the glory of the LORD endure forever;
         Let the LORD be glad in His works;
    ³²He looks at the earth, and it trembles;
         He touches the mountains, and they smoke.
    ³³I will sing to the LORD as long as I live;
         I will sing praise to my God while I have my being.
    ³⁴Let my meditation be pleasing to Him;
         As for me, I shall be glad in the LORD.
    ³⁵Let sinners be consumed from the earth
         And let the wicked be no more
         Bless the LORD, O my soul
         Praise the LORD!

And so it begins...

I have always been a bit slow on the fad front. I don't usually jump on bandwagons too quickly; to be honest, I usually shun the bandwagons as they go rumbling past. When Xanga rolled around I thought, "That's silly, who cares what all these people are posting," and the same happened with Facebook. It was only as I was graduating college that I began to see the merits of social networking - dear friends were scattering to the far corners of Lancaster, PA. Ok, ok, some of us did leave PA behind, including myself. As I ended up in the delightful Bluegrass region of this fair commonwealth I now call home (thanks to my husband's job), the blogs and posts my friends faithfully (and not-so-faithfully) kept up helped me feel a bit less homesick. And yet I never started my own. Blame it on time, or lack thereof, and even desire. I mean, I didn't necessarily want the world reading my thoughts, and I couldn't blame them if they didn't want to be reading my thoughts. Often my thoughts are quite scatter-brained and humorous, mixed in with a bit of the delightful. And then there are the downright depressing ones.

But here I am, blogging. And I will admit to you, if you have somehow stumbled here and are STILL reading, that this venture is entirely selfish - as are most similar endeavors by my esteemed peers. I have come here today and started this blog as a way to hold myself accountable to the anonymous internet!

Many times I begin projects with the greatest aspirations of success. Most of the time I end with half a project sitting around collecting dust - literally and virtually. So here I am, committing myself yet again to a project I feel is somewhat doomed to near-completion. But I am hoping that perhaps forcing myself to make public those things I would rather keep in my closet will be an impetus to sick with it all.

This will be the place I keep updated with workout habits, eating habits, spiritual disciplines, and all manner of otherwise neglected tendencies.

So if you feel the urge to keep on reading, read on, friend. If not, can't say I blame you too much.