Dreary Monday Happiness

This past weekend was incredibly busy and I'm pretty sure that Saturday was really two days long because it certainly felt that way. I read one of Ann Voskamp's blog posts while drying my hair this weekend and she talked about how she has a journal for counting her gifts (that's not what the blog post is about exactly, but go ahead and click through because it's an amazing post as per her usual). Social media became such a place for me to complain about pretty much everything. Not having that outlet to complain has actually made me feel slightly less complain-y and a lot happier. So, in the spirit of Ann, here's just a little bit of the gifts for which I'm thankful this dreary, cold Monday:

• An 11:30 minute mile pace on my run this Saturday. Coming off an injury is super slow going, and that's almost 45 seconds faster than my usual. Mainly because my dear friend BBQ came to run with me and she's faster than me, but she slowed down to run with me and keep me motivated. She's pretty awesome and I'm so glad I met her. And BBQ are her actual initials which makes me love her even more. 
• Seeing land that had been a total thorn in my friend B's side cleared for the first time thanks to our little band of misfits in Crop Mob. 
• Fresh greens with pickled vegetables dressed with mustard vinaigrette and a pimento cheese sandwich after working all morning to clear brush and invasive tress (which do NOT come up with out a fight).
• A friend who rode all the way to Chattanooga and back in one day to go hear a band in concert that he didn't even know all because he knew I wanted to go and Jeremy had to work and I certainly couldn't drive all that way and back alone.
• Planning meetings for our Advent service. Yes, Advent, during Lent. It takes a long time to plan large events. 
• Long naps on a rainy Sunday afternoon.
• Meeting a new person who was excited to meet me. I attended an anniversary celebration for The Homestead Atlanta. I walked up to a woman there and introduced myself as Amy. She said "OH, are you Amy Lastname?!!" I said, indeed that's me. She then proceeded to exclaim, "oh, I've been wanting to meet you forever. People always ask me if I know you and I always have to say no, but not any more, give me a hug!"
• The look on one of my favorite chef's face when I told him that they should have weenie gravy on their brunch menu. I'm pretty sure it almost killed him. (Weenie gravy recipe: chop up a pack of hot dogs into medallions, fry them up, remove from the grease and then use said grease to make the gravy...yummy deliciousness) (Weenie gravy is one of my ultimate comfort foods and one of the favorite breakfast foods that my dad makes.)
• The fact that Jeremy had the chance to go see a fancy pants airplane museum before it became a private attraction rather than a public one. He even got to meet the owner of all the airplanes and it seemed to make him incredibly happy, which made me incredibly happy.

How about you? What are you happy about today?

Seven Days

I'm now officially on my seventh day of no social media. And you know what? It's not really all that bad. I've stayed in touch with my friends from social media the old-fashioned way (texts and emails) and it's not near as isolating as I had previously imagined. Also, I've found plenty of ways to fill my time this past week.

First, I got food poisoning last Thursday. Not being able to eat or drink made me have a migraine, which made me sicker, which made me super dehydrated, which landed me in the ER. And the kicker? I didn't even lose any darn weight!

One day during my convalescence, I did read an entire book. It was a YA book so it's not like I read War and Peace all in one day. I read The Fault in Our Stars. People have written amazing reviews of this book, so I'm not even going to try. Instead, I will share with you some of my most favorite lines from the book.

• Sometimes, you read a book and it fills you with this weird evangelical zeal, and you become convinced that the shattered world will never be put back together unless and until all living humans read the book. (This is me 100% with Sarah Bessey's Jesus Feminist. If you're a friend of mine, I have probably told you to read this book right away, do not delay, read it.)
• As he read, I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once. (This line was especially special to me because when Jeremy and I first started dating, he would read to me rather frequently. There's just something about a man who will read aloud to you.)
• I had a moral opposition to eating before dawn on the grounds that I was not a nineteenth-century Russian peasant fortifying myself for a day in the fields. (I just thought this was funny, this book was incredibly intense, the comedic relief was nice.)
• You have a choice in this world, I believe, about how to tell sad stories, and we made the funny choice. 

So, read The Fault in Our Stars if you haven't. It's a fast read, I think maybe it took me four hours, tops. I did cry for the entire last hour of reading it though, so be warned. And when I say cry, I mean a couple of times I had to put the book down to sob into a dish towel. 

Oh, and yesterday, my newest niece was born! She's a hefty little lady and we're all pretty happy about her, or "it", as my nephew continued to refer to her. 

Please to feast your eyes upon her her chubbiness:

(Confession: I don't really miss any social media except for Pinterest. And have mercy do I miss Pinterest. How did we live before we had a platform that is the equivalent of looking at a thousand magazines all at one time!?!)

Note: If you'd like to comment, please do so here and not on Facebook. I'm not checking Facebook until Easter so I won't see your comment for a long time.

Schooled by a Four Year Old

"What I love about the ministry of Jesus is that he identified the poor as blessed and the rich as needy... and then he went and ministered to them both. This, I think, is the difference between charity and justice. Justice means moving beyond the dichotomy between those who need and those who supply and confronting the frightening and beautiful reality that we desperately need one another." - Rachel Held Evans

Every single Sunday, I and the family that I sit with at church are given presents by a homeless gentleman who attends our church. I'll call him Todd for the sake of this story. Without fail, he has a gift for us every. single. week. Sometimes it's clothes. A lot of times it's food. One time it was a tv. I sometimes keep the presents that I receive, but mostly I put them in the donation pile for when I take things to Goodwill. I don't need the presents he gives me, but that's never stopped him. I'm a giver of gifts and receiving gifts (even from family) makes me really uncomfortable. It embarrasses me to get gifts from a homeless person. They are usually dirty. They smell funny. It feels weird to be handed presents in crumpled up bags when I walk into church every single week. 

This past Sunday, MM, the daughter of my friends, looked at me and said "where is your cousin?" I, of course, have never brought any of my cousins to church, so I was confused. I told her I didn't know who she was talking about. Exasperated, she said "Todd...your cousin...where is he?" She hadn't seen him in the back of the church and was concerned as to where he was. And apparently, she thinks he is my cousin. I pointed him out to her and after we took communion she ran to the back of the church and gave him a hug.

And I've been thinking about that interaction since Sunday morning. MM gets gifts from Todd every Sunday too. And she receives them with joy. She actively looks forward to the presents that he brings. She doesn't need any of the gifts that he brings her, and most of them aren't age appropriate for a four year old. But she gets excited. And her excitement of receiving the gifts ministers to Todd. He has nothing and yet he goes out of his way to give us things. I've been schooled in humility by a four year old. She identified Todd as family...my family. And I'm embarrassed by him.

That same Sunday, an elderly lady in front of me, turned to suggest that I join the choir since I sing so well (I cannot confirm that I sing well, I thought my singing was awful). When she turned back around, MM wanted to know her name. When I told her, she asked, "is she your sister?" I told the lady that MM wanted to know if we were sisters. She got quite the kick out of that and responded, "well, I guess we are sisters in Christ." And isn't that true? We are all family. And we all need each other. And I need to climb down off my high horse. I'm not so wealthy that I can't also receive gifts, even from a homeless person, with joy.