The End Will Justify the Pain...

We’ve all heard that old saying about “the end will justify the means,” right? Well, this morning, I was struggling to wake up, and so I popped in my ear buds and started jamming to tunes as I started my work day. Music always seems to help, and the lyrics to Relient K’s song Let It All Out offered a stunning twist to that archaic saying. I guess I just caught the meaning of the words for the first time:

If the burden seems too much to bear,
remember the end will justify the pain it took to get us there...

I love it. Check it out.

Pursuing Art

Last week, I participated in an amazing open-dialogue session all around the subject of “art.” It was an incredibly refreshing experience, and I’m so glad I was invited to join in this invigorating conversation with such talented and creative women.

Now I haven’t read Makoto Fujimura’s Refractions: A Journey of Faith, Art and Culture yet, but I’m adding this book to my list of must-reads for the near future. Our host, Charity, had read Fujimura’s book, and I think it fueled the arrangement of our discussion.

Can’t wait to see what GOD will do...

I Am a Girl

But there are some who doubt that I am a REAL girl...

1. I don’t collect shoes. Sure, I like cute styles, and I try to meld cute and comfy together, but my aim is to avoid pain. 3-inch heels might be adorable, strappy sandals might be irresistible on the shelf, but neither are for me, even though I could use the added height or flare. No, I seek out comfort in Skechers or Dr. Scholls. If the shoe fits well, I’m a fan.

2. I don’t like flip-flops. Never have. First of all, they are clearly a safety hazard to those of us who are prone to klutzy behavior, and secondly, I don’t like how they separate a person’s big toe from the rest of the team. Why can’t our toes just learn to get along?

3. I don’t care about name brands. If I like it, and it fits on both my body and my budget, I’m sold. It doesn’t matter if I’m shopping at a consignment store, Target, Wal-mart, JCPenneys or Goodwill. I look at tags to decipher the size not popularity.

4. I don’t wear lots of make-up. In fact, most people think I don’t wear any. Fact is that I do put it on, but a few hours later, it is gone. Apparently, I have pores the size of potholes and super-absorbent skin. As we speak, scientists are trying to recreate my skin in a lab for further testing...

5. I’m not crazy about purses. Yes, I usually have one on my person most of the time, but it’s usually black, purchased at Target, and kept in use until the handles break off or the fabric rips. A purse is a necessary evil, a must-have for every woman, but I don’t have a stash of them in my closet to rotate based on the season, my mood or my current outfit. I’m just not that girl..not usually.

So the idea of me purposefully buying a blue Coach purse doesn’t jive with what people know about me at all -- even I am stunned by these recent turn of events! All I know is that one moment I was innocently meandering along looking at flea market wares such as hand tools, rusty farm equipment, tableware, old books and antiques. When all of a sudden, something happened, my heart was beating faster, and I was captivated. It was like a spotlight from heaven was shining down on that purse, and I was drawn to it. It had my full attention. I handled it fondly, caressed the handle and checked the label to establish what I already knew. Yes, it was a brand new Coach purse for $35.

I quietly put it down. I told myself I didn’t need it. I’m a practical girl, first and foremost. What am I going to do with a blue Coach purse? I already had a perfectly good black purse waiting for me back home. I walked away and continued scanning other vendors’ products, but that purse was not done with me. I told myself I would check back on it later. If the purse was still available, I might reconsider a purchase of it. The whole “if you love it, set it free” ideal was swimming around my head. If it is meant to be, it would be waiting for me when I returned.

And so it was that on the 5th of July in the year 2010, that I, Melanie -- the girl who doesn’t like name brands or frivolous purses -- became the proud owner of her very own blue Coach purse for $35 and verified once and for all that I am a REAL girl.

As Paul Harvey would have put it, “And now you know the rest of the story.”

Letter From a Concerned Citizen

Dear Makers/Packagers of Orbit Gum,

Thank you for your delicious and amazing product! Orbit is my preferred gum of choice and regularly travels with me. Actually, I rarely leave home without a pack. In fact, if there was ever a game show where a random “contestant” could win a million dollars if they had a pack of Orbit gum on their person, I would be a winning candidate.

So yes, I confess, I’ve been an avid user of Orbit for several years now:

• I quickly bonded with Peppermint, and it is still a clear winner as the gotta-have-it variety kept on hand. Fabulous breath freshener, too.

• Raspberry Lemon Dew is my current chew of choice. I love it! The raspberry flavor is awesome in tandem with that crisp, refreshing lemon zing. YUM!

• Citrusmint and Strawberry mint are both tasty and mouthwatering to my lips.

• Bubblemint is pretty great, too.

• Pina Colada appears to have been a mistake, but maybe I just got a bad “batch”? The flavor was decent, but the texture was rubbery and did not afford me any chewing pleasure.

• As for Wintermint and Spearmint, I’m afraid that I would have voted them off the island long ago. OK, fact is, it’s probably not so much them as it is me. I don’t like anything spearminty at all, and so this shouldn’t come as a surprise at all really.

While I am certainly a devoted fan and an investor in this chomp-happy product, I have recently noticed an alarming trend in regards to the packaging of this mouth-watering merchandise, and I feel the need to bring it to your attention. Lately, each piece of Orbit gum seems to have been welded or super-glued into the foil and cardboard packaging. Seriously, have you tried to get into a pack of your product lately? It’s exhausting and tiresome. A great deal of mangling and pulling is required. Brute force or ample creativity is needed to get the gum wrapper removed from the package, and I'm concerned that someone is going to dislocate a shoulder while trying to get to their gum.

Now, I don’t know if there has been a recent onslaught in gum theft or gum terrorism. Honestly, I don’t follow gum-breaking news, and so it could be that I have just missed the recent headlines about an acceleration in gum crime. I’m usually the last to know these things, but I would appreciate some further investigation on your part. Could you please look into this matter for me? Or possibly just have your people ease up a bit on the stick-em in the packaging? Come on. You want Orbit gum-chewers to be happy, right?

Thanks for listening!

Sincerely,
A Concerned Citizen of the Gum-Chewing League

Happy Fourth of July!

"Yesterday the greatest question was decided...and a greater question perhaps never was nor will be decided among men. A resolution was passed without one dissenting colony, that these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent states."
~John Adams, Letter to his wife Abigail Adams on July 3, 1776~

We're a hodgepodge of people thrown together as one nation.

We each have our own story, our personal background of how we ended up here on these shores.

We don't agree on religion, politics or creed.

We argue over immigration, socio-economics and health care reform.

We all seem so very different from one another.

And yet, we are connected, drawn into an amazing unity or red, white and blue. Not just today but every day. Celebrate!

Addicted to the Supernatural

I love books, movies and TV shows with vampires, werewolves, immortals, wizardry, magic, etc. Always have. What is the appeal to the unexplained and the fantastical? What draws me into the mystical realm?

Now some may be concerned at my interest in what they term as "darkness." I disagree. I think it is only natural that the supernatural, the mysterious and the unfathomable calls out to me. After all, I belong to the Great I AM, and HE is full of mystery and intrigue. HE is the author of it, and my life, my very existence is intertwined with the unexplained.

GOD created the universe in 6 days. No matter what you classify as the “6 days of creation,” it makes no difference to me. I’m not here to debate you. What I know for sure is that HE formed our world and everything in it. HE created the atom and the inner workings of the human body, he formed the sky and the oceans, he placed the stars and planets and molded the sun. Scientists keep trying to find the end of our universe, but there is always more to be found. And HE did it all in 6 days. Who is more supernatural than HE is?

GOD is full of imagination and power, more than I can fathom. HE is a master storyteller, and Hollywood writers have nothing on HIM. The Bible is full of stories describing HIS supremacy and creative energy. HE brought a flood on the whole earth, HE parted the Red Sea, and HE created the seraphim with their several pairs of wings and lots of eyes. Who is more magical than HE?

GOD loves us. HE sent HIS SON to earth to take on the form of a man so that HE could one day lay HIS life down to save us. No mere mortal could come up with such an awesome, complex plot. What is more baffling, more mind-twisting than the love of GOD? And HIS love for us causes HIM to seek us out. Yes, the GOD of the universe wants a relationship with us, and HE pursues us. What could be more mystical that that?

Sin severed the communion between GOD and mankind. We were torn from the mystical presence of THE MOST HIGH, and our souls yearn for the ultimate reunion with HIM. Is it any wonder then that the supernatural, the magical and the fantastical appeals to me? It's no great mystery really. It's all in my genetics.

Following the Magic

I’m not an expert photographer. I’m not even a decent amateur. I’m just a girl who loves taking photos. Personally, I believe that any good shots I happen to capture occur merely because I was there at the right place, at the right time. (Or maybe it was because I took 15 photos to your one or two clicks of the shutter.) But no matter, it was just pure happenstance and running of the odds. Nothing more. I was ready, armed with my third eye and aimed at my target, and I got lucky.

For several years now, I’ve pondered pursuing photography more seriously. After all, I love it. It’s one of my favorite things to do. Wouldn’t it make sense to hone my craft and kick it up a notch? I’ve even considered taking a course or two, assisting with a real photographer on the side once again, or just reading and researching as much as I can on the subject. But something stops me – a part deep inside of me screams out “don’t do it.”

On the flip side, the perfectionist or over-achiever in me is pushing me to better my skills. Why do anything if you can’t do it right? If you have the chance to perform better with some training, why not take that next step to do so? Why settle for mediocrity (at best) rather than pursue brilliance?

I’m a passionate person. I rarely do anything half-heartedly. I’m a 110% girl. I’m consumed by my work, hobbies and activities. When I’m in, I’m all the way in, no-holds-barred. If I started pursuing photography like that, I’d be committed, dedicated and obsessed with it, even more than I am already as a novice.

And somehow, I fear that if I learned the “rules” or the “how-tos” of photography, the enchantment of this creative art would be replaced by someone else’s ideal. I’m afraid that I’d lose my love of the thing by over-pursuing another’s standard of it, and I don’t want to limit my scope based on someone else’s impression of what a good photo should be.

So call me crazy, but I think I’d rather continue to capture magic by mistake, for now.

DISCLAIMER: The author of the above article reserves the right to change her mind and reverse the decision made hereto at any time in the foreseeable future. She makes no apologies at the prospect of varying her opinions or disregarding her own solemn advice since she is subject to her own free will, the in-take of caffeine and the whims of an unfettered mind.

Europe, Here I Come!

My Grandfather (my Mom’s Dad) died in combat in World War II. He was killed near Berlin, Germany and buried in the Netherlands American Cemetery in Margraten. My Mom and her younger sister were small children when their father left for the war, and neither of them have ever been to visit his grave. So we’ve been talking about making this journey for years.

BIG NEWS!! Last weekend, we made our reservations for a river cruise along the Danube and Rhine Rivers for next year and included a 3-day extension in Belgium so that we can visit the cemetery in nearby Holland. It’s all very exciting! My Mom is over-the-charts excited already, and we've got months to go. But I love her enthusiasm (after all, I definitely get that from her), and I can't wait to tour Europe with her, my Dad and my Aunt Peggy. It will be another great adventure.

We’ll be starting our trip in Brussels, Belgium and then making our way to Amsterdam, where we’ll catch our river cruise. We’ll be making stops in Germany, Austria, the Czech Republic and Hungary as we make our way along the rivers. I can’t wait. I’m thinking that I might need to get another camera before our trip just so that I will have a back-up. It’s important to capture every moment, you know.

The Generous Listener

I know I’m not a perfect communicator. I’m flawed. I make mistakes. I say the wrong thing or circle the point instead of hitting it. But I do try. I try rather hard to make sure I am precise when communicating, especially via written words. In person or on the phone, I can get flustered or mixed up. My brain will go faster than my lips, and I never quite know what just got said. But when writing an email message or letter, I’m a chronic editor. I write and re-write even the simplest of messages just to make sure my words are saying what I want them to. [Believe me, I’ll edit this piece 10 times before I publish.] I take great pains to select my words carefully. I scrutinize each phrase, agonize over the meaning, consult my online dictionary and thesaurus. I want to get it right.

So my pride stings just a wee bit when someone misunderstands something I wrote them. After all I took the trouble to hand-pick each word and delicately phrase each line, and yet somehow, the reader read something else and missed my point. I spent all that time deliberating, obsessing over the right phrasing, making sure my message was clear and precise, and yet despite my best efforts, my intended meaning was missed by the receiving party.

Fact is that we can’t control how someone else will take our words. All of us can find different meaning in the same words. In essence we are each at the mercy of another's interpretation. We each have our own internal dictionary, our own experiences that taint our view, our own defenses and walls that keep us from the truth. We will hear what we want to hear, read what we expected to read, and often miss what the author tried to say. We’re human, selfish beings, focused on how the words affect us. We are so focused on ourselves that we often miss the author’s words entirely.

There is such possibility, such promise, such overwhelming opportunity in language. So much of our existence and our future depends on our communication, and I think we all have room for improvement. (I know I do.) We need to embrace the listener inside of us. We need to read what is written, accept the words at face value and not over-analyze the meaning. We need to give people the benefit of the doubt and not seek out offenses wherever we look. We need to be precise and clear with our language and learn to listen even more carefully and generously.

Ode to Mountain Dew

I tried to give you up.
I walked away from us for more than a year.
I said my goodbyes.
I thought we were through.

But then, you found me again,
Reminded me of better days, younger years.
You reached out.

And you had me at the first carbonated sip.
Your citrus goodness soothed my troubled soul.
You quenched my thirst like nothing else.

You bring out the best in me.
You fill me with sparkle, energy and zing.
Yes, you complete me.

You make me a better woman.
I am yours.