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.

Another Residence Taken in Kitty Heaven

Yesterday my family lost another member: Belle Cat Sue, also known as Belle Belle, Baby Belle, Belly, and, more recently by my dad, Belle Obama, although I have no idea why. This last nickname is probably what did her in. (haha, j/k Dad!)

We often referred to Belle as the forest kitty due to her humble beginnings as a stray who wandered from the forest in our backyard up to our back door. Moreover, she was a hunter. We were never surprised to find bird feathers scattered around our dining room (“Who didn’t close the back door?!?“) or mouse guts on the back porch.

Belle was such a sweet cat. I loved to hold her, and she loved to be held. She had the most precious meow, and her “motor” (prrrrrrr) was always going. Some people have the misconception that cats just do their own thing, are moody, hide under the bed all the time, etc. Not Belle. In whatever room we were in the house, Belle was right there with us and wanting in on the camaraderie. This little girl was not always so sweet, however, as I’m sure many of you remember. A couple of years ago after we first adopted her, I almost convinced my dad to shoot Belle in the middle of the night when she almost attacked and killed me after her spay surgery. I was convinced that she was crazy and out to get the fam. Oh, how I laugh about this now. Events like this always seem exceedingly more dramatic in the middle of the night when visibility is ultra low.

Thank you all for your condolences. My family and I have appreciated the e-mails, the phone calls, and the prayers. Belle Belle will be sorely missed, but she doesn’t have to suffer anymore. I am taking the news of her death really well, actually. I’m more sorry for my mom, who had been so diligently trying to nurse our baby back to health before she finally took her into the vet’s office to be euthanized yesterday. Thanks, Mom, for handling the tough stuff. It’s going to feel different walking into my house in a couple of weeks when I come home for Christmas Break. I’m sure the loss will hit me hard then.

I don’t deal well with death, and the death of my cats is no exception. Last summer we lost Zsa Zsa in the most tragic way, and this haunted me for months afterward. I’m grateful that Belle went in a more humane fashion. Now they’re both up there basking in kitty heaven, no doubt. And don’t tell me that this place doesn’t exist.

We loved you, Belle! Thanks for being such a precious kitty!

I Need the Prayers of Those I Love

I know that my posts have been far and few between lately. This past week came and went like none other, except for maybe the cruise that I went on this summer. I had such an enjoyable time with my family, with Josh, and with my babies, Belle and Eva. I also had a great birthday for the most part–until I received word this evening that Belle was diagnosed with both pneumonia and leukemia. I guess this weekend I’ve been struck with the “one thing after another” syndrome. Some would say that it’s bad karma. I, however, believe that God is testing me. Through it all so far, I truly feel like I’m being drawn closer to Him after a semester in which I’ve spent the majority of the time selfishly seeking my own comforts and desires. I know that I’ve said this before, but in times like this, hymns that I’ve never been especially fond of just pop into my mind because of their relevance to certain situations or periods in my life. This one by James D. Vaughan came to me tonight:   

I need the prayers of those I love,
While trav’ling o’er life’s rugged way,
That I may true and faithful be,
And live for Jesus every day.

I want my friends to pray for me,
To bear my tempted soul above,
And intercede with God for me;
I need the prayers of those I love.

I need the prayers of those I love,
To help me in each trying hour,
To bear my tempted soul to Him,
That He may keep me by His pow’r.

Through my struggles I want to don that breastplate of righteousness that is spoken of a few times in Scripture. I want to be like Jesus, to have a heart of courage and of forgiveness and of unconditional, quintessential love. And I am requesting the prayers of those I love.