My New Blog

Hey! I recently started a new blog: http://brandnewday86.wordpress.com/

Sorry that I left many of you hanging. I set this one to private for a few days, and I plan to do it again shortly.

A Defense of the Duggar Family

For the past year or so, a  favorite topic among Arkansas, especially those from the Northwest Arkansas area, is the “strange Duggar family“. This family began in the traditional sense: married couple plus biological baby. Then the parents had a couple more babies. Nothing out of the ordinary. Then three more children were born. Okay, six kids isn’t unheard of, but it’s a little unusual. Along came a few more kids. Stop now, Duggars. Then a few more. Yikes! When is this woman going to quit bearing children?!? Right now I believe that the count is up to 18 biological offspring. But the craziness doesn’t end there.

The family is a homeschool family. The girls only wear long skirts and, according to my roommate, are discouraged from attending college. The father leads Bible studies. The kids learn musical instruments and contribute to the Duggar family orchestra. They supposedly live debt-free and in a really big house. Top all of that off with their own nationally televised show on TLC: 18 Kids and Counting.

A little odd? Many of my friends certainly think so. In fact, I’ve heard some of them go so far as to speak patronizingly of this family. They question whether the children are being properly socialized. They question a religion or belief system that prohibits females from wearing pants. And this goes without saying, but most of all, they question the parents’ avoidance of birth control and the resulting 18+ biological children.

I live in a society that is becoming increasingly diverse in family forms. I fear that it will not be long before homosexual marriage is a reality in every state. More than ever before, heterosexual couples, especially twenty- and thirty-somethings, are choosing to live together and to have children in the absence of the marital union. The divorce rate is now lower than it has been in a while due to the current economic conditions, but it is still relatively high; therefore, many children are being raised in single-parent families and stepfamilies. Today, grandparents commonly raise their grandchildren. With all of these different types of families and family situations becoming more prevalent (and acceptable) in society, I wonder how it is that some Arkansans and other Americans feel justified in their condescending attitudes toward the Duggars. I am a strong defender of this family. While fervently opposed to abortion, I am a proponent of Michelle Duggar’s right, as a woman, to choose to have as many children the natural way as God allows her.

Who am I to say that Mr. and Mrs. Duggar are doing the wrong thing?

Their kids are clothed, and they don’t look malnourished. I don’t see how the children could be suffering from physical abuse with all of the cameras rolling. My only potential problem with the Duggar family is that they are exploiting their children with their reality show. However, maybe they want to use this show as an agent to promote homeschooling, the sanctity of marriage, and the blessing of children. I want society to accept them for their sake. Imagine how much more they, actually being Duggars, want acceptance themselves.

A few weeks ago on TLC I watched a bit of the highly-publicized marriage between Josh Duggar and his now-wife Anna. If I remember correctly, the two made it to the altar without so much as a kiss before their wedding day. Wow…how cool and special! I have a friend, though, who would probably say that the couple didn’t know each other well enough to be getting married if they hadn’t slept together yet. From my friend’s point of view, sexual relations is an important component before the wedding. This notion has become fairly mainstream in American society today.

Christians inarguably have a problem with this person’s conception of “getting to know each other better”. I have encountered many Christians in the last month, though, who are succumbing to social norms in other aspects that are related to the timing of marriage and whether two people know each other well enough to get married. As a person who is regularly having to face the stigmatization of an atypical courtship, let me say that at times my spirits from the  joyful anticipation of an impending marriage can quickly turn dour by a person who has limited insight into my particular situation. I will address this in my next post.

Crossword Puzzles

Every Tuesday and Thursday this semester I sit in a psychology class for an hour and a half and attempt to complete crossword puzzles. I despise the class, but even more than my annoyance with the teaching style and the subject matter, I loathe my inability to finish the puzzles. I may actually have a slight obsessive-compulsive attitude toward them because my frustration produces uncomfortable sensations in my body, and I find myself needing to fidget. So there I am, squirming in the back of class as I try to conceal my crossword puzzle under page after page of notes about the lives of Freud, Jung, and Adler.

Really, though, I don’t get crossword puzzles. I don’t understand how an already basic word like “regrets” can have an even more basic three-letter synonym. And I guess that I need to increase my worldliness because I draw complete blanks when I’m asked to match an author/artist/pitcher/priest’s last name with his or her first, and vice-versa.

Maybe doing crossword puzzles gets easier with practice. Or maybe I should just scrap my ambition and start paying attention in class.

Weddings, Rings, & Being Single

http://dailyheadlines.uark.edu/14294.htm

It’s dangerous out there.
I just had my sixth day of no classes, which translates into my officially being a bum. It’s really not fun.
Chelsea, Britt, and I went out today and took pics, which can be seen on Chelsea’s facebook if you’re her FB friend.

I’ve been working on wedding stuff. A few days ago I realized that I really don’t want a wedding. You see, I wasn’t the little girl who dreamed about her wedding; I wasn’t the pretty pretty princess who had everything planned out in a big pink scrapbook. Definitely not me. I only knew that someday I wanted to be married. And now I know that these 192-some odd days until the day that I’m married seem like forever away.

Check out http://www.mywedding.com/joshandkaci/ to see our unfinished wedding website!

Rings are difficult to capture with Kodak EasyShare cameras, but nonetheless, here is a pic of mine. I love it. Josh did an amazing job. He did play a mean trick on me, however. When I came back to Arkansas, I had to leave it with him in Georgia so that he could get it resized. One day he told me that the jewelry store called him and said that they had lost it. Of course I’m like, “No way. Uh uh. Are you serious?!” to which he replied, “Yes, it really did happen, but they can find a similar one and have to you in about thirty days.” A month?!? Little moisture droplets started to well in the corners of my eyes because I didn’t want a different ring. The one that he picked out was perfect, and I had so much been looking forward to wearing it again.

My brother says that all that girls care about is the ring. Definitely not true. I do love my ring because it is incredibly gorgeous, but I love it mainly because Josh picked it out especially for me, and when he and I have to be apart (which is pretty much all the time), I look at it, and it reminds me of him. So there, Weston.

One of the hardest parts of being engaged is feeling the tension of girl friends who are either a.) in dating relationships and wanting to be engaged too, or b.) single. Most of my friends in these two categories have been really gracious about it. I can tell that Chels is really excited for me.

Being single is tough. Maybe it’s not that way for every single person, but for the majority, I believe,  singlehood can be a lonely road when one has no prospects. I was bitter about it for awhile. “I’m never getting married,” I told my mom a few times this past summer. Then God brought someone into my life. Really. I hear God being credited all the time in successful relationships, and sometimes I wonder if the people who say this truly mean it, or if they are saying it just because they think that they are supposed to. But then I remember that it’s really none of my business.

All the single ladies, all the single ladies…(thank you, Beyonce), here is my note to you: You never know what is around the corner for you. Josh and I have only known each other for the past eight months of my life. Not even a year, and we’re already engaged. Now, I know that some people may be having a hard time wrapping their minds around this. I know that we’re being judged by some as being too hasty or not ready or whatever. Many out there, though, including the most important people in our lives, are being very supportive of us, which is encouraging to us and helpful to our relationship. Anyway, point blank, my suggestion for my single girl friends is to adhere to the 3 Ps: be prayerful, proactive, and patient. Who knows, tomorrow you may just get a facebook message from some guy who wants to get to know you a little better.

Ad Nauseam

Again I am writing in the wee hours of the morning. This time I can’t sleep because I feel incredibly nauseated. Whenever I think about the word nausea, ad nauseam comes to mind, and I have no idea why because I had no clue what that phrase meant until I looked it up on Wikipedia just now. In case you’re not sure what it means either, let me fill you in. “Ad nauseam is a Latin term used to describe an argument that has been continuing “[to the point of] nausea.” I probably knew that at one time but had since forgotten. Maybe I would have remembered if the current time was something other than one o’clock in the morning. But it is what it is–which, by the way, is one of my favorite phrases. Right up there with “Move it or lose it”,  ”When in doubt, throw it out”, and pretty much whatever comes out of Madea’s mouth.

For those of you who haven’t heard the news yet, Josh and I are engaged! Josh proposed on January 10, which, believe me, was a total shock and surprise. I had thought that he might ask me sometime during the early part of my trip to Georgia, but then other things came up, and when this past Saturday rolled around, the last thing that I expected him to do was to propose. But he did! And the ring is perfect. I’ve never seen such a pretty one. Unfortunately, I had to leave it with him in Georgia so that the jewelers could resize it, but I’m trying to wait patiently for its return. We haven’t set a date yet, but I’ll let you all know when we decide something.

I think the ingredients from my Alka Seltzer may be starting to kick in. Thank you, Lord. Every time I get to feeling like I’m going to “vom”, as Josh says, I start praying really, really hard. Please don’t let me be sick. Please don’t let me throw up. It’s bad enough when it happens in the comforts of your own home. I can’t even imagine how embarrassing getting sick like that would be in a small dorm bathroom with roommates nearby.

Feeling Like I’m 15 Years Old Again

I can’t get enough of these two young artists:

 
David Archuleta - His first CD is amazing! He should have won American Idol hands down.

Taylor Swift – She’s not super great live, but I love her songs.

A Bad New Year Doesn’t Mean a Thing

Just after a post called “The Best Christmas Ever”, I am a little sad to admit that this has been one of the most emotionally challenging New Years’ ever. I can’t decide if this one or the one in 2005 was worse. I was an eighteen-year-old senior in high school then, which, in my mind, qualified me as pretty much a full-fledged adult. I wanted freedom and the permission to make my own decisions. My parents never had to deal with me smoking, drinking, or sleeping around; I would say that their big challenge with me at that point in my life was dealing with my wanting to hang out with my friends past their ultra-early (or so I thought) curfew.

I remember being at a New Year’s party that evening in 2005.  I say “party”, but really, it was just a gathering of friends. I think that one guy may have had alcohol in his car, but I never saw it. We were just having some good, clean fun. I don’t remember what time my parents wanted me to be home, but I do know that they expected me to leave earlier than anyone else would be leaving, and I was so upset about that…especially because I wanted to keep hanging out with the football player that I had had a huge crush on since my junior year. 

I must note here that as I was driving to the party that evening I was aware that my driver’s license wasn’t in my possession. I had put it in another purse when I went shopping the day before, and I hadn’t moved it back. Therefore, I made a mental note to be extra cautious behind the wheel.

Well, the night progressed, and every so often I would call my parents and plead for “just thirty more minutes”. In their old age, they just couldn’t understand how it looks to be the first one to leave the party, I decided. I think that they finally said that I had to leave at 2:15. I could tell that they were really mad, but I continued to play the current game of Catch Phrase with my friends. I was having so much fun. ’I'll make sure that I’m out the door at 2:45,’ I told myself, and I stuck to that. The problem was that I intended to drive really fast the whole way home; my thoughts were, ‘the earlier I get there, the better.’ I had forgot that I was without my license, or else I just pushed it to the back of my mind. I came upon a four-way stop about fifteen minutes from my house and definitely had the California roll thing going on. The next thing I knew, these blue and red lights were behind me, and I was on the side of the road trying to prove my identity with my library card. My mom and I laugh about this now, but the experience was traumatic for me then. It was my first time ever to be stopped by a police officer, I didn’t have my license, I knew that my parents would be furious, and to top it all off, it was New Year’s morning. I couldn’t help but believe that my getting pulled over at 3 a.m. on New Year’s under these circumstances was a bad omen, a bad start to the year. My whole 2005 would be ruined because of this. It was going to be the year of bad luck for me.

It didn’t turn out as I expected, though. I had one of the best years of my life in 2005. I graduated from high school, had a fantastic summer, and started my freshman year of college with a bang. I cried for three days after I got my high-dollar ticket (every time my dad looked at me with his disappointed frown, I couldn’t help but break down again), but God helped me get out of that low point, and I emerged a stronger person. I haven’t gotten a traffic ticket since then, but if it happens again, it won’t hit me with such force. The world will definitely not be coming to an end next time.

In the eight days of 2009 much has happened that has been totally beyond my control. I have cried like I haven’t cried in a long time. Decisions have been made that have directly affected me, but I have felt unbelievably helpless through it all. Yet certain people have supported me immensely, and I don’t know what I would do without them. I have been to church several times since I have been in Georgia (they have more frequent worship meetings down here), and each time the closing prayer is said at the end of the service, I have a renewed spirit and a newfound hope in the future, whatever that future may look like. As much as I don’t like some of the things that have transpired since I have been away from my Oklahoma and Arkansas homes, I am growing. I am learning. Perhaps God has given me this opportunity to exercise my faith in Him.

I have had a rocky start to 2009, similar to the rocky start of 2005, but I have to expect good things to happen in 2009. I don’t have very specific things for which to hope for in this world right now because relationships are up in the air, and I no longer have a clue if/where I’ll be going to grad school in the fall. This circumstance, however, gives me a chance to put my entire hope and trust in Him alone, which I should have been doing all along.

The Best Christmas Ever

I’m sitting in my kitchen and snacking on my new addiction–Papa Murphy’s chocolate chip cookie dough. I can already see my dad entering the room, opening the fridge, and shifting the tupperware around from rack to rack before shouting, “Where’s the cookie dough!?” Oh well. Yes, I ate half the container. No, I can’t do anything about it now. The making of the classic How the Grinch Stole Christmas is on TV right now. I saw the Jim Carrey version a couple of weeks ago, and I’ve decided that movie-makers should leave the old stuff alone. It’s cold outside but not snowing, and I am excited to announce that the meteorologists are predicting a non-white Christmas this year. Yay for no snow!! Go ahead and “bah, humbug” me. haha. My mom and I got back about an hour ago from seeing Fireproof. What a great movie. The acting is not super wonderful and is pretty noticeable at the beginning, but the story really tugs at that certain point deep inside my chest, the point that is connected to the tube that goes up my neck and into each of my eyeballs. I didn’t cry as much as I did last time I saw the movie, but that’s not saying much because I really let it all out the previous time.

Josh went home yesterday after spending a little over a week here in the AR/OK area. I was telling my mom tonight that I find it hard to believe that he and I  were together just yesterday. It already feels like three weeks since I’ve seen him! I already miss him like crazy, but, Lord willing, I’ll get to see him one week from today, and I know that time will fly by between now and then. I can hardly wait to be back in Georgia, though, and I am especially excited this time because I finally get to meet Josh’s family.

In addition to Josh’s visit, Kelsi and her family (minus my uncle) came to see us on their way to NE Oklahoma. Getting to see Kelsi twice over Christmas break contributes to my belief  that this Christmas is the best one that I’ve ever had. Kelsi and I don’t get to spend much time together due to the distance between us as well as our ultra-busy schedules, so I’m looking forward to some late night (early morning?) talks this week when we’re at the farm.

Lauryn and I are looking forward to Weston’s prank calls to NORAD Santa Tracker and our annual tradition of attending a Catholic mass service. Let’s just say that we enjoy experiencing various types of Christmas festivities.

Life is great right now. I see and feel God’s blessings at every turn, and I am in awe of the gifts that He continues to hand me despite my often-weak faith and consequential turning away from Him. 

 ”But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). This verse was put on the screen at the end of Fireproof.
What a simple sentence to sum up the most heroic story that has ever been or will ever be.

Brad Cohen’s Story

My second-favorite type of stories (followed by love stories, of course) are those that involve an underdog who rises above challenges to achieve success. Brad Cohen’s story is just that. This past Sunday I discovered that a Hallmark Hall of Fame movie was going to premiere on CBS that evening. I had no clue what the film would be about, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Hallmark movie that I didn’t like, so I made a mental note not to miss it. “Front of the Class”, starring Jimmy Wolk and Patricia Heaton, turned out to be about an elementary teacher with Tourette Syndrome who wanted to be “the teacher [he] never had” (written as part of the title of Cohen’s autobiography).

Few had patience for Cohen’s tics–the recurring rapid movements and noises–as he was growing up because little was known then about Tourette’s. Lacking a formal diagnosis, Cohen’s behaviors were considered by his teachers and other adults to be attention-seeking, and resulting from a lack of self-control and parental discipline. His peers made fun of him, which increased the severity of his tics. One day he received the chance to explain his disorder to his school, and he discovered that his teachers’ and peers’ newfound knowledge of Tourette’s made a complete difference in the way that they treated him. Cohen realized the impact of education and was determined to become a teacher, which proved to be a frustrating task because many employers, uneducated about Tourette Syndrome, could not get past his disorder to hire him, despite his stellar credentials. Finally, Cohen was offered a position as a second grade teacher and was awarded Teacher of the Year his first year on the job!

My intrigue with Cohen’s story stems in large from my interest in mental health. At my encouragement my mom and sister watched the movie as well (five minutes ahead of me for some reason…hmph), and at one point I guess my mom made some remark to Lur about this movie being right up my alley. So true. I wanted to jump right into Cohen’s life as a young boy and help him and his family with their struggles.

Along with my counseling and MFT programs, I have decided to apply to a social work program. A professor who knows me really well strongly suggested that I look into this social service career, and at first I was really hesitant. I have some problems with the liberal philosophies that are pushed in HDFS and professional counseling/MFT, and I had the idea that social work is about as left-leaning on the political spectrum as a social service career can get. While the field’s negative rep may not be completely unfounded, I believe that this occupation, like law and others that are criticized, does have merits, and I am excited about the prospect of becoming a social worker (hopefully a clinical social worker in a mental health setting) one day if that’s the path that God has in store for me.

Relationship Advice From a Nine-Year-Old

Hahahahaha…shy girls, regular girls, pretty girls…
This kid is so cute. I wonder what a girl that age would say about talking to boys.
Note: I do not encourage juvenile ”relationships” or “dating”, whatever that may be. In fact, I told Lauryn that she can’t date until college; of course, she’ll do as she pleases.