A Few of my Favorite Things

While home this last time, I mentally compiled a list of a few of my favorite things to do while here. I have included some visuals with commentary to explain them:

• Sleigh Ride-This is my favorite Christmasy song, and last year, Mom got me the piano music for an awesome duet arrangement of it. I practiced it all month to get ready to play it with her. It is not without mistakes, unfortunately, but it was very fun to play! Next year I'm going for perfection:-)
  
  



• Baby Calves-Dad got two new "Bottle Babies" on Christmas day. These are calves we buy from an early age and feed them with bottles, then wean them off, grow them up, and eat them. Yum! They're real sweet when they're babies and tons of fun to feed. Definitely one of my favorite things to do with Dad when I come home

• My parent's house-Along with all the great memories that come with it, it's just beautiful in general. Here it is, covered in tons of snow!

• Wintery Weather-We had the most magnificent snowfalls, and then this morning some type of weird "Fog Freeze" where it was incredibly foggy and then froze on everything, including these trees, and even the cows outside!

• Singing around the piano-This has become tradition. My whole family loves to sing, and our favorites are Selah and Getty music. Every time we're together, we gather around the piano and sing. It usually starts out with one or two people and then grows to encompass the whole family


• Games-I love playing games with my family! We always have a blast. The most hysterical moment of the week was when we were playing Catch Phrase with all of us, and it was Stephen's turn. He began quickly describing his word.
  
  Stephen: Okay, uuumm, King David had one of these!
  Shouts from his team: "A Kingdom!" "A son!" "Wives!"
  Stephen: Okay, yes, lots of those, lots of wives, it's called a--
  Team: Harem!
  Stephen: Yes! No...Um...wait...is there a plural of that?
  Team: Harems?
  Stephen: (looks very confused and disturbed) *Timer buzzes* Um...wait, isn't "Heirloom" the plural of Harem?
  
  He will never live that one down:-)
  
• Ernie-My brother's dog is simply adorable. I just love him. Here he is waiting to open his Christmas present of toothpaste and toothbrush

I could, of course, go on and on, but get the gist of it. I love my family!

Christmas with the Willcox Clan

We celebrated Christmas with Stephen's family on Christmas day. We were invited to his parents house for a Christmas Eve brunch, along with the rest of the family, and it was great to get together again! The house was abuzz with excited chatter, babies cooing, and children playing. Brunch was great, too, Mom.

Christmas morning we celebrated with Sam and Stephanie and their two little ones. We woke up bright and early with them and were there for the unveiling of the Big Gift--a parakeet for the boys! They had been begging for one. Petey is growing quite comfortable with his new surroundings. Friedrich helped him settle in, of course. We then spent the rest of the morning and much of the afternoon playing with all the cool toys the boys got and watching Ratatouille. Then we headed over the Milt and Lisa's for the Big Christmas Shindig.

There were a lot of us there. I lost count at 15. We ate a wonderful Christmas dinner and then dug into our presents. I got two sweet soundtracks I had wanted, plus the new Adventures in Odyssey trivia game! I was stoked! Stephen got the Works of Jonathan Edwards and a Systematic Theology book. He was also quite thrilled:-) All in all, it was a great day of fun, fellowship, and giving. I love giving to people, seeing their faces, and just being together. I love the picture of how much Christ gave to us, and how much He loves to give us good gifts and see our smiling faces! If we love to give good gifts to our family, how much more does He love to lavish us with good gifts! This is just another reason why I love Christmas!

Some snapshots from the Festivities:

Mom bought twelve bottles of sparkling grape juice! Anita and I were in heaven!

My nephew, Noah, and his Grandpa

Stephanie with Petey

Man, I was so excited about this game! Like a little kid.

Great Things=Small Packages

It has often been said that great things come in small packages (my mom for example). As I was meditating on this today, I realized just how true that is. Our very own Lord humbled Himself and came down to earth 2000+ years ago as a tiny infant. What a great thing that was! This fact was once again proved true last night when we celebrated Christmas with the Laird family. It was fantastic just to be all under one roof again, and we were anxiously awaiting the chaos/fun that would ensue in the forthcoming days.

Last night we celebrated "Family Christmas," pretty much the best time of the year. We ate a fantastic meal cooked by my very own mother, then turned on Christmas music and distributed the gifts. Once they were all allotted, we decided we'd open the ones from the Grandparents first and then call them to tell them how awesome they were. We are usually with them for Christmas, but alas, this year it was not to be.

Since The Kid had already been to the Grandparents and opened his, the family chose me to open my gift first. I pulled a small box off the top of the stack and tore it open. It was a white cardboard box, and on the front it said "iPod." This can't really be an iPod, I thought to myself. They must have just wrapped it in an iPod box. So I popped it open to see what was in it. And in it was...an IPOD!!!! I was so shocked, I looked up at everyone and just said "I....I....I...I..." to which everyone started laughing. Frustrated that I couldn't get any thoughts out of my mouth, I finally just closed it and asked something dumb like "Is this real?" I was so dumbfounded because just the day before, when all my sisters-in-law were carrying around their little iPod nanos with music and videos on them, I was thinking to myself how outdated Stephen and I are that, not only do we not own any of this stuff, I barely know how to use it. And I had just been thinking how wonderful it might be to have one when I go running.

My shock and awe upon opening my iPod

Upon opening the rest of my gifts, I found an iPod holder that attaches to my arm and this sweet chip that attaches to my iPod and goes in my shoe. Get this--the chip tells me how long I've been running, how far I've run, how much longer I have to go before I reach my goal, how many calories I've burned, and a number of other things while it plays inspirational music to motivate me to work out more. Amazing.

So anyways, I've determined that it is indeed true that great things come in small packages, like my sweet new iPod. Now I just have to figure out how to use it.

Christmas Fun

Stephen and I celebrated our own personal Christmas on Saturday--all day. It was fantastic! Stephen ran off as soon as we woke up to "run some errands" and I stayed home and made biscuits and gravy. After our brunch, we tackled the house cleaning and laundry and then sat down in front of the fireplace to open presents.

We each had three to open, and we videotaped the whole thing, thus forgetting to take any pictures. I have therefore included a snippet of our Christmas video for your enjoyment. We think it's pretty funny and will probably look back and laugh at how poor we were.



Apart from the socks, I gave Stephen a book that he wanted, and the Newsies soundtrack. He listened to it all day the last two days. Stephen gave me two fantastic books, Treasuring God in our Traditions, Noel Piper, and Answers to Prayer, the prayer journal of George Muller. He also gave me Elf, and another present has yet to arrive, so I'm still in suspense on that one.

We then went to Target to see if we could find a new bookshelf for our hallway, but to no avail. We then picked up a pizza on the way home and enjoyed eating it while reminiscing about days gone by. Then we made carmel corn and called Skip and Cassidy to play games for the rest of the evening. Fun was had by all:-)

Winter Wonderland

We have been getting a few inches of snow every 2-3 days for the last couple of weeks. And if it isn't snow, it's rain. Since the polar ice caps are melting, there is much more moisture in the air than usual, so it is manifesting itself in forms of snow and rain here in Chicago. I prefer the snow to the rain, personally. Rain in winter makes me seriously nervous. You never know when it's going to freeze.

At any rate, we had almost 24 hours of snow over the weekend, and when we woke up Sunday morning, there was a glorious sight to behold. Somewhere around a foot of snow had accumulated during the night, and the trees and cars were covered in it. I include some pictures for my homesick Texas Sister's sake.

It took Stephen 20 minutes to clean off our car for church, and when we arrived to church, the alley in which we park had not been plowed. We got in okay, but I was pretty sure getting out would be a problem. Another women was already stuck in the lot trying to park. Stephen went over to help and it took three guys 20 minutes to get her unstuck. Some serious snow.

When we left church, we paired up with our new friends (who had parked next to us and helped get the lady unstuck) to make sure we both got out. They dug us out and then the husband and another gentleman who found us pushed while Stephen threw the car into reverse. We were out within minutes, and our friends fared much better.

Thankfully Chicago's street department does an AMAZING job of clearing the streets, so after we got out of that alley, we were home free. At least snow is beautiful:-)

Friedrich Loves Subway

For those of you who don't know, I have a bird. He's a parakeet, and his name is Friedrich. I've had him for almost two years now, and he makes quite a handy companion. His wonderful whistles and warblings keep one from feeling lonely on a blustery winter day when one's husband is working.

These are a few of his Favorite Things:

-washing dishes with me (he tries to jump in the water, though...)

-loud music (his new favorite is RelientK's new Christmas album)

-Adventures in Odyssey

-nibbling (on anything, but especially shiny things)

-Drinking out of my water glass (and occasionally trying to jump in)

-Pepsi (although I don't let him have it)

-Some of his favorite foods include: spinach,carrots, corn, green beans, butter, Glazed Lemon Dainties (I know, I know, really bad for him...I only let him have a couple bites), popcorn

-His own reflection

-Uncle Andrew

-The camera (I have no idea...sometimes he hears the sound of birds chirping coming out of it and is convinced if he looks hard enough, he'll find them)

-my cell phone

-fingers, thumbs, and toes

-The computer keyboard

He likes a lot of things. It's always fun finding new things that he likes, too. I have developed a (bad) habit of allowing him to come over to me while we're at dinner and try whatever I'm eating. This has now become a regularity. Whenever he's out of his cage (which is 90% of the time), he notices we're seated at the table, and before I know it he has waddled quickly over to my feet, hopped on, and begged for a lift so he can sit on my shoulder and sample my food.

Today we got Subway sandwiches after church and before I knew it, there he was, standing at the foot of the table begging to get up. So I lifted him up, and he proceeded to reach for my sandwich. I offered him some lettuce, but he didn't want me to hand him the lettuce, he wanted the lettuce IN the sandwich. So...I gave it to him.

He proceeded to eat so much lettuce that I finally just gave him one end and started eating out of the other end. I know this probably seriously disturbs most of you, but if you had bird as awesome of Friedrich, you'd let him eat your sandwich too.

The Christmas Party!

We went to the funnest Christmas party ever on Saturday! Our friends, Skip and Cassidy, have friends who rent out the Museum of Science and Industry every year for this huge Christmas party, and they invited us along! The entire thing was open and FREE and they were having food catered in!

Now, the Museum of Science and Industry is my personal favorite museum. Stephen's favorite is the Field Museum. He says it's because the Field Museum is more geared toward grown ups and the MofSI is geared more for kids...I don't disagree with him. I love it!

Anyway, everyone else in my group seemed more excited about the food than the museum itself, which was hard for me to understand. I was bursting at the seams to show them all around! (Skip and Cass had never been there) While we ate, I listed off all of the exhibits (with my recommendations), and we got a good idea of where to go and in what order. Our first priority was the U505 submarine! This exhibit usually costs moneys, and since we are so cheap we only go on free day, we never pay extra for these exhibits. But tonight it was free, so we hurried over to explore it. It seemed to me that I had almost gone into it when I was younger and came with my family, but I did not for two reasons: 1)It was a boat, and even though it wasn't on water, I was still terrified. 2)It is actually quite small on the interior and when you cram a tour of 20 people in there, one could get quite claustrophobic, which I am (My husband constantly reminds me that I live in fear. I'm afraid I do). Our tour turned out to be us and 5 other people--quite comfortable!

Here's Cass and I in front of the Sub. Unfortunately, you can't really see us or the sub, but none of the pictures turned out because of the lighting:-(Joey--help?) Unfortunately, Cass was looking at the wrong camera:-\

This one just cracks me up. Believe it or not, it was NOT staged!

So we toured the U505 and it was AWESOME! (Dad you would have loved it) She even let us take pictures because she believed we wouldn't post them on ebay and sell them. We will not.

Thumbs up for the sub! (I am sitting down, because I was very weary)

While we were looking at the sleeping quarters, our guide said "And this grate I am standing over, please be careful if you walk across it, because if you lose anything like your keys down it, it is gone forever."

I looked at Stephen and raised my eyebrows in warning. He looked back at me and his face went pale.

"Stephen, stop it." I said, convinced I knew what he was doing. "I know you did not drop your keys down there." He always tries to trick me like that.

Stephen shook his head with wide eyes. "No...my car keys...they're in my coat."

Now it was my turn to pale. "And your coat is..."

"In the trunk of the car" he finished. We had parked in the building and so had thrown all coats, purses, and apparently car keys, in to our car trunk.

I, of course, did not have mine. Even if I did, they would have been in the trunk, too, in my purse.

It was at this point that Cass looked over at me. "Are you alright?" She asked.

I kind of started laughing nervously. "The car keys are in the trunk," I informed them.

They optimistically informed us that we'd find a way. They were AAA members, or our neighbor could break in to our apartment and get our spare set of keys (that's disturbing, I know). We decided we'd figure it out later and continued our tour of the museum.

Here I am in one of my favorite exhibits--the farm one. I'm driving a combine:-)

We saw all the best exhibits and then, by 10 decided it was time to head out.

"Let's get some pictures," I suggested. Stephen reached in his pocket for the camera, and pulled out...the car keys! His mouth dropped. "Guys, it's the keys! I must have checked my pockets a dozen times!"

He concluded that the camera must have been hiding them. I concluded that God put them there. All in all, it was a fantastic night, and we had a blast with our friend Skip and Cassidy. Yay, for Christmas parties!

The Most Miserable Birthday Ever

I finally had my real birthday, the 23rd of November, and I am 22 years old. Unfortunately, that birthday was fairly miserable for me. Wednesday night, my throat began to itch, and despite my valiant attempts at fighting off the inevitable, a cold ensued. I was sick for Thanksgiving and my birthday, and I'm still sick actually. My head felt like it weighed about a million pounds, and I ran a fever, but I tried my hardest to be sociable.

My mom's sister and her kids always spend Thanksgiving with us, and we had a blast, as usual. We played all sorts of games like Set, Duckey Wuckey, Mafia, Coke, Counter Coke, etc. We reminisced about days gone by and shared Thanksgiving and prayers with one another. It was a very nice day.

My birthday was the next day, and I felt even sicker than I had the day before. I spent most of the afternoon laying on the couch, watching movies or trying to nap with little Ernie, who was awfully snuggleable.

My nose was too plugged to sleep though. I was actually hungry by the time my birthday dinner came around, and my mom made the best meal ever! I had two helpings of everything I could get my hands on. Then I blew out my candles and ate my cake and opened presents! I got a bed skirt for my bed (yay for not having to look at ugly shoes under the bed anymore!), and LOTS of new musics!

Yes, I felt pretty awful on my birthday, but it was still fun to be home, see my family, and enjoy one of my mom's meals:-) Thanks guys, I love you!

The Best Birthday Ever

My birthday is not until the day after Thanksgiving, but Stephen and I celebrated it yesterday, since we'll be in Iowa for my birthday. We made a day of it, starting at 9 am by throwing cinnamon rolls into the oven. Stephen then gave me my first birthday present, which was Josh Groban's new Christmas album--fun! I was monstrous disappointed, though, because inside was a pamphlet advertising his 'Awake' album and saying it didn't come out til early '08. I had been sure it was already out and asked for it for my birthday, too. I wilted as I realized that I'd probably have to wait until next birthday to get it.

Then, Stephen gave me the best birthday present ever by sitting down with me to watch the 5 hour BBC version of Pride and Prejudice. It was a blast! And he even liked it! We broke it up by watching the first half, cleaning the house, then finishing it. We then prepared my birthday meal of Ribeyes from the farm, red potatoes with sour cream and butter sauce, and broccoli. It was delicious!

After dinner I opened my next three gifts. I was shocked when I unwrapped Josh Groban's 'Awake' album!

"This wasn't supposed to be out til next year!" I cried.

Stephen, smiled slyly. "You misread it. It's already out!" I was elated. I also got Chris Rice's new album, and This is Your Brain on Music, a book I've been wanting for months and Stephen remembered and surprised me with it! I loved them all! We then put all the new music in the player and got out all of our Christmas decorations to start decorating for Christmas (we're a little excited about Christmas this year...)

We got most of the house decorated, except for the tree, unfortunately, which we couldn't set up because we forgot to pick up the stand from the grandparents:-\ Everything else looks great though, thanks to Sister and Mom who found all this great Christmas stuff on clearance a couple years ago, and the fun stuff I got last year for 75% off. Gotta love sales. I think they only thing I am looking for this year is those stocking holders to put on our fireplace. I really want the ones that spell JOY, and I totally should have gotten them last year...Oh yeah, they weren't on sale, that's why. Hopefully this year. I am cross-stitching these awesome stockings that will hopefully be ready to put up next year.

We then had "birthday cake," which is Ben and Jerry's Smore's ice cream (I go bonkers over that stuff!). As if we hadn't eaten enough, we pulled out the popcorn maker that I got for my birthday from the grandparents (thanks guys!) and popped some delicious popcorn that we planned to eat in bed while we watched "White Christmas."

The day was so much fun, and I felt so blessed by all the wonderful gifts from my wonderful husband, that I decided I couldn't wait any longer to give him his big Christmas present. Really early. So I stuffed it into a large gift bag and he opened it. It was an afghan I've been crocheting out of homespun yarn over the last three months. He's been begging for one. It was the perfect blanket to snuggle down under, eat popcorn, and watch White Christmas. All in all, it was pretty much the best "birthday" ever, and I am once again reminded of how good God is. He isn't good because He gives me good gifts, he gives me good gifts because He is good. And for that, I give Him all the praise:-)

Writing Again

I am entering the annual Jerry Jenkins writing contest here on campus. I've seen it in years past and always just sighed and said, "I'd never win anyway." That has been my stance on numerous things I have wanted to do--like join the chorale ("I wouldn't get in anyway"), and I therefore have not done them.

BORING!

If I don't try, what fun is that? I just need to suck up to the fact that yes, I might get rejected. But I might not! And with this writing contest, even if I don't win, I am invited to a luncheon with Jerry Jenkins. Not that I like his "Left Behind" series, but that's still pretty cool! And if I did win, the prize is a fairly substantial amount of cash. We could always use that.

And so, readers, I shall write again in order to enter this contest. Most of my problem has been lack of creative thought or ideas. One cannot write without inspiration. So after some prayer, I began thinking of things that had happened in my past that would meet the qualifications of the contest. I always hear my mom's voice in my head "Write about something you know!" when I write now, and I knew if my story was going to be good, it had to be something I have had experience with. So I thought. And thought. And all of a sudden, I was inspired about a story that happened to me many years ago. And I'm having a blast writing it! I don't care whether I win or not anymore, I am just enjoying the opportunity. And besides, Jerry Jenkins will at least be reading my very own story--wow! How cool is that!

I'll keep you posted.

Our Apartment

I am finally just going to put this pictures up for those of you who have not been to our little place! Things are a tiny bit different now as these pictures are almost two years old (woah), but it gives you an idea:-) Enjoy your perusal!

Living Room
Living Room


Dining room


View from our apartment, sorry about the glare.

Kitchen

Bathroom

More bathroom

This is the bookshelf my Grandpa made!


Our bedroom

On The Town

I know. It's 1:50 in the morning. But I can't sleep. Perhaps it's all the chocolate in my system.

Stephen and I have been really enjoying the city since we got back. It's like we can finally see its beauty and not just wish we were back in cornfields. Don't get me wrong, I still prefer cornfields, but the city has a beauty all its own.

Yesterday I got my hair cut with a friend and we took a long, brisk walk to the hair cuttery and then enjoyed a giant chocolate chip cookie and some cranberry juice at a quaint bread bakery down the street. The we strolled back and looked at all the neat storefronts in Old Town. I've walked past those storefronts a dozen times. But I had never stopped to really look. There were some neat stores!

So last night Stephen and I bundled up (due to the 40 degree plummet in temperature from three days ago) and headed out. We spent a couple of hours walking up and down the streets, poking in little shops, and getting some peanut butter chocolate from the Fudge Pot. Yummy. Tom Cruise thought so, too.

Here are some snapshots of our evening:





Then tonight we were invited by a couple of our friends to hang out again. They said they knew this cool place with good chocolate we could go to. They must have known what would lure me, because we bundled up again (it was 43 degrees out tonight) and headed back out.

We had a delightful time catching up and sharing funny stories (and quotes from The Office, or Kaelin's favorite, Elf). We walked almost two miles to a fun little grocery market (Sister, it really rminded me of Central Market, only not near as cold!), and we picked up some amazing licorice and chocolate.

We continued our journey to Navy Pier, since we were so close anyways and sadly, living here for two years now, we still haven't been. We meandered, looked at the huge ferris wheel, danced around with the cool sculptures, and began the long journey back along Lake Michigan. About halfway home we were pleasantly surprised to turn around and see a fireworks display back on Navy Pier. We stopped to watch it, then moved on.


Kaelin and I


How many libs do YOU think this pump-a-kin is?


Stephen takes down one of the statues

We ended our night going back to Ray and Kaelin's apartment, having homemade hot cocoa (delicious!) and watching a movie. This is how the night ended:



All three of them asleep and me wide awake. At 1:30 in the morning. Ray always gets these fantastic ideas of having a Lord of the Rings fest and watching all of them, then only stays awake for the first 30 minutes.

Stephen and I left the still sleeping Ray and Kaelin in their living room and padded off to our own apartment where Stephen immediately fell back asleep in bed, and I finally came out here to blog until I could sleep.

At least I don't have to be up for anything in the morning.

Chicken Bones

A funny thing just happened.

Last night I made terriyaki chicken wings--one of our favorite meals. After dinner, Stephen was helping me clean up, and I asked him not to throw the chicken bones in the trash can.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because then it starts stinking and I have to take the trash out early."

"What should I do with them then?"

"Just put them in a plastic bag under the sink." I then went on about my own business not giving it a second thought.

Until I was emptying the trash today and opened the cupboard under the sink.

"Stephen...what is this?" I asked, holding a plastic bag full of chicken bones in my hand. It had been sitting on top of my cleaning supplies under our kitchen sink.

"The chicken bones," Stephen answered innocently.

"Why didn't you throw them out?"

"You told me to put them in a bag under the sink, so I did."

I sighed, and then laughed. "I meant the bags were under the sink, not to put the bones under the sink," I giggled all the way back to the kitchen, stuffing the little bag into the full kitchen trash bag and tying it up.

Ahhh, communication. It's a beauty, eh?

The Elevator Broke Again...with Me In It.

Yes, it's true. The second elevator was fixed just this morning, and it was wonderful to have two elevators running again.

But alas. On my way to work this evening, I boarded that same elevator with an elderly couple. They were going to the second floor, while I was going to the Lobby. At the second floor, we waited for the door to open, and it did...slowly...about 18 inches, and then stopped.

Odd. I thought. Why is the elevator door taking so long to open?

Then the elderly gentleman started trying to pry the door open with his arm and managed to get it to open half way. I then realized that this elevator wasn't going anywhere.

At least the door opened partially! I thought, warily stepping off of the elevator and pondering whether I should wait for the other one or take the stairs with my suitcase.

It was an eerie feeling, standing there looking at an elevator with its doors half open. But soon the second one came and we hopped on hoping it, too, wouldn't fail us. Once we reached the lobby I had the pleasure of sharing the news with the security guard that our elevator was broken yet again. She did NOT look thrilled.

What is going on?!

The Trouble With Elevators

We live in a 13 story building in downtown Chicago. There are two elevators that service our building, and anytime one elevator is "on hold" when someone is moving in, the place gets really backed up. One elevator is simply not enough to manage 240 apartments. It wouldn't be so bad if you could take the stairs.

However, you can only take the stairs down, as the stairwell is locked, and it only goes all the way down on one end of the building. The fact that half of our building is made up of elderly people and the other half is students makes it even more interesting. The elderly people couldn't go up or down the stairs if they wanted to, and the students don't really think about it a lot of the time, I think. But there are certain times that it is definitely better to take the stairs: 7:50, 8:50, and 9:50. 9:50 is by far the worst as ALL students from the building are emptying out to head to chapel. But I digress, as Professor McDuffy would say.

We've already established that it's a nightmare when one elevator is shut down. Well yesterday, one elevator completely broke. People waited for the elevator for 20 minutes sometimes, and I opted to always take the stairs when going down. But again, going up...we were out of luck.

It occurred to me yesterday evening while waiting for the elevator, how incredibly horrible it would be if the other elevator happened to break at the same time. What would we do then??

I got to find out this morning when that second elevator stopped working on Floor Nine. I discovered this when Stephen came bursting in the door to let me know he had to shower as quickly as possible because he was now running late for work due to the lack of elevators.

"I waited for 15 minutes before I found out the elevator was broken!" He gasped. He had just returned from racquetball and was rather sweaty.

"Wait, now they're both broken?" I cried.

"Yeah, and there's still people stuck in there!"

Eiyiyi. That's one of my biggest fears. Ever since Jenna, Andrew, Alex and I got stuck in an elevator 27 stories up on the outside of a building in a glass elevator. I went completely hysterical of course. Elevators have always made me nervous. And now there were people stuck in OUR elevator! I hoped they were okay and that they would be rescued quickly.

Thankfully they were, and maintenance got the elevator up and running within a few hours. (Getting my friend and her baby stroller and groceries up 6 flights of stairs was difficult, but we managed.) The second elevator still isn't working yet, and I have no idea why. But for now they're propped open the stairs so we can get up and down them. Whew. Makes life a lot easier:-)

The Baking Machine

I feel like Betty Crocker. Except that I am a real person. It is 4:30 PM, and I have been baking all day.

As soon as I woke up this morning I baked us a batch of strawberry scones. Mmmmm:-) While those were baking a whipped up a yellow cake with vanilla sprinkle frosting for my Cousinee who just turned 24 (Happy Birthday, Sarah!).

I then decided I'd better get a head start on the Mrs. D. Oatmeal Bread I am making for dinner tomorrow, since it has to rise like three times before you can bake it.

While that was rising I started the crust for the Chocolate Almond Toffee Bars we will be enjoying for dessert tomorrow with our friends Matt and Jenn (Yes, our youth intern this summer for those of you reading this back home and want to be jealous). In between punching down the bread dough and waiting for it to rise again, I vacuumed, dusted, cleaned the toilet and sink, ate lunch, had three friends in, put laundry away, cleaned my room, and washed ALL the dishes from breakfast, lunch, and the multiple things I baked.

I have just finished the Chocolate Almond Toffee Bars and my bread is in the oven. I was going to make a sourdough starter to have this next week, but I'm a wee bit exhausted right now and not relishing the idea of any more dirty dishes.

It's a good thing I like to bake.

You should all add my blog to that Google alert system

I am not a consistent blogger. It's true. I always have so many things to blog about and then...no time to blog them. *sigh* Brother-in-law and Sister always get on my case about it, so I say to you all, if you want to keep up with my blog, you should probably install that cool Google thing where it lets you know if I ever do update my blog (you know, once a month or so). I don't know how to do it, though, ask my Brothers.

A number of Very Interesting things have happened since we returned to Chicago, and it made me realize that I really need to be writing all this down. Like the fire in our building two weeks ago and how Stephen saved the day. Or the drug-dealing, prostitute hiring men in the apartment down the hall and how we might be on their hit list. Or just funny things like how rude Chicago people can be to a person. We have lots of stories about that. Excitement on the CTA or around campus, etc. Much happens here that would make great stories. So I think I'm going to make myself make time to write what I have named The Chicago Fun Times. If not for anyone else's interest, at least for our own and our family's. Maybe I'll post them here, too. When I write them.

I Can Run

For those of you who've known me over the last 11 years, you probably all know that I have a back condition. This condition (ask Gramps about it it you're curious, he's done extensive research;-) has limited what I have been able to do physically, athletically, etc. One of the things I've never really been able to do is run. Ideally, I should be able to run, but if I've been overworking my back or have reinjured it, running isn't an option. This has been the majority of the last 11 years. My much-used quote from Sense and Sensibility was Margaret saying that "I'm not supposed to run!"

However, the last two years my back has been getting stronger and stronger! This summer I finally was to the point where I thought I could probably pick up running and see how my back handled it. I love to run, so this was very exciting for me. Stephen and I worked on it together. He helped me know how to stretch and best train, etc. He also helped me deal with my asthma and learn how to stretch out my lungs (something I've never had to do before!).

And I did run this summer! The most I ran was 3/8 of a mile, which was a huge feat for me! It was by FAR fhe most I had ever run before, and the only thing that held me back was my asthma! My back didn't even hurt!! I wondered if I would be able to run further if it wasn't so incredibly humid and hot.

So once we got back to Chicago, I have started running over at the gym on their indoor track. On Tuesday I ran without heat and humidity, and I shocked myself by running an entire mile with considerable ease!!! And then this morning--I ran a mile and a lap!!! Again, the only reason I couldn't keep going was because I couldn't breathe, but my back still doesn't even hurt!

Pretty exciting, I know. I thought you would all enjoy hearing about it:-)

The Day Chris (Kevin's Wife) Fractured her Finger and smashed up her face...real bad

It was the day after Kevin fell on his wrist, and we were supposed to go kayaking. However, huge storms had brought the winds up, and we were not going to be able to do it. So instead we decided to take a hike up to Montreal Falls. We decided that everyone in our group was going to go, despite the lack of energy and overall low morale, and we set out in 3 vehicles, led by Army Ranger Dave, who was showing us the way.

The problem was that about 4 of the guys (including Ranger Dave) had been to this falls, but it had been about 4-6 years. So when we came to a fork in the road, the question was--which way? The road on the left was very steep and covered in rocks. The road to the right was also steep, but instead of rocks, it was just plain dirt. Dirt with very large ruts in it.

We chose the latter road and began the perilous trek up the hill with a truck, a minivan, and a 12 passenger van. I was riding shotgun in the 12 passenger, and I was very thankful to be doing so, as the girls in the back were becoming quite ill. The road was so bad, we had to stop numerous times to pull fallen trees out of our path, drive through large mudholes, or navigate over huge rocks jutting out of the steep hills. One of the girls in the back wasn't wearing her seatbelt and we heard a loud "thud" followed by "Oowww!"

"Eliza, are you okay?"

Eliza, rubbing the top of her head "Nothing, I just hit my head on the roof."

After about ten minutes, Ranger Dave stopped and ran back to our van. He suggested we try the other road. So we drove all the way back the the "y" and drove up the rocky road. This road was even steeper and more impassable, and after two more wrong turns, many groans and threats to pull the van over to be sick, and comments from the peanut gallery of "DOES THE WORD WHIPLASH MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU?!" to our driver, Ranger Dave again ran to our very weary, muddy, and scratched up van to tell us the awful truth...It was the original road or no road. Did we have the strength to face it? We had now been on this perilous journey for an hour, and our stomachs were not happy with us.

But our girls were strong and stated that they had come this far--they weren't going to turn back now! We were told that it was only a couple miles into the forest before we could get out and start hiking. An hour and ten miles later we finally made it to our trail. We spilled out of the vans and breathed deeply of the fresh air.

We had wasted so much time on the roads that we now had very little time to actually get to the waterfall and back before dinner. So with Ranger Dave in the lead, we took off down the trail at a very rapid pace. I was thoroughly enjoying practically running through the underbrush, over logs and fallen trees, around stumps, and avoiding the sheer cliffs leading down to Lake Superior on our right sides.

We made it to the Falls in record time, splashed around in the water, caught a frog, and took some pictures. Then, within minutes, we turned around to head back. I had heard that Kevin and Chris, his wife, had had to turn back and wait for us because she had fallen. I hopped she was alright and that she didn't need medical attention as we were quite far from civilization.

When we emerged from the woods, we saw the sad couple sitting on the grass looking out at the lake, Kevin with his right arm swollen from yesterday, and Chris with a grossly swollen and bruised eye, various cuts on her face, and worst of all, her ring finger swollen to nearly double its size. She had tripped over a root and landed her full weight on her finger and then her face. Ouch. She was quite brave though and insisted she was fine. I was worried about her finger, and the wedding band quite stuck there.

We made it back just in time for dinner, a little banged, bruised, very tired, and ready to have an uneventful ride home the next day. But that was not about to happen.

The Day Kevin Sprained his Wrist

This begins a succession of eventful Days in my last couple of weeks:

We were in the Upper Peninsula doing a missions trip at a Bible camp on Lake Superior. We led a VBS for the kids in the morning and the evening. Our afternoons were free, and one particular day we decided to go “cliff jumping”. I put that in quotations because these weren’t actual cliffs. The were more like 10-20 feet rocks that bordered a waterfall. But we called it cliff jumping. Made us all feel adventurous I think.

Anyway, We loaded in to our vans, drove about two miles from the camp, and parked on the side of the road. We then traipsed through the woods until we reached the waterfall. At this point, we reached the water fall. The trail led almost straight down from there. We hung on to tree roots and made our way down. Once down there, two of the other girls and I hiked up the waterfall a ways to see what we could see. I jumped over rocks, trees, and bushes and felt very wild and daring. Stephen was always worried about me, but I was in my element and was willing to risk injury to enjoy the great outdoors.

After we walked a ways, we headed back to watch the cliff jumping. I chose not to jump as the water was like -30 or something like that. At least, when I put my feet in, they went numb….so…It was cold. I hate cold. I watched from a rock and enjoyed it thoroughly.

Kevin, one of the leaders, nabbed Stephen and took him down another set of falls. They found that if you sat under the falls, it felt like you were getting a massage. After their backs were thoroughly pummeled, they decided to explore down the falls a bit more. There were a lot of large rocks in the water, and they were jumping from one rock to another, when Kevin jumped to a rock that was unstable. It tottered beneath him and he started to fall backwards. He threw out his hand to catch himself but ended up landing his whole body weight on his wrist. Whether it was broken or not, we weren’t sure, but it swelled up and hurt quite badly. With his wrist in such a condition he had to climb back out of the waterfall. Brutal. But he made it. And we were proud of him.

Thankfully, we found later that it was only sprained:-)

The World Traveler

We are on our way to Niagra Falls. Three days ago we set out early in the morning for the 16 hour drive to update New York to help celebrate in Daniel and DeAnna’s wedding. I think I’ve been running on pure adrenaline for the last three weeks. This ends week 4 of living out of a suitcase, and I only have one left, but at least it’s in the Quad Cities. We are staying at the youth pastor’s home while they are away. It will be relaxing!

The last four weeks have been an absolute whirlwind of activity for me. The longest time I have had between trips has been about 36 hours. The shortest has been 12—over night. Just long enough to unpack, do laundry, and repack before I had to climb in another car. Within an hour of leaving for New York on Thursday morning, I was already going stir crazy.

The other night I was calculating all the places I’ve been to recently. I thought back since last summer, and here’s what I came up with. By the end of this summer, I will have traveled to or through all the following places:

Utah (Zion)
Nevada (Hoover Dam, Vegas)
Georgia
Florida
Iowa, Illinois (dozens of times)
Indiana (4 times to Gramps’ and Grams’? And thru it 4 times)
Wisconsin (through it 4 times)
U.P of Michigan (for two weeks on Lake Superior!)
Ohio (through it twice, then there to take Alex to College)
Pennsylvania
New York

Stephen will be heading to Wyoming here in two weeks, as well. Our hours in the car this summer have accumulated to somewhere near 130-140.

I feel like a World Traveler. Or at least a States Traveler.

Not My Morning

It has been one of those mornings.

I woke up early this morning to go jogging before I went to work. But it was raining. So jogging was out. I showered, dressed, threw a load of laundry in the washer and headed out the door with plenty of time to spare before work.

Unfortunately, I left the windows open in our truck all night, so the seats were all wet. I went back inside, grabbed a towel to sit on, and returned to the car. I slid into the driver's seat and looked down at my pants. There was some type of black residue all over my pants. My khaki pants. I sighed. No time to change, and nothing to change into anyways as I had thrown my jeans into the washer.

I grabbed the steering wheel, then pulled my hand back and looked at my fingers: covered in the same black residue. The steering wheel must have gotten wet and whatever was on it was rubbing off all over me. I would just have to wash my hands (and my pants off) when I got to work. It was getting late.

I started off to work in the rain with no windshield wipers, black khaki pants, wet seats, and sticky hands. I was halfway there when I saw it-- "road contstruction ahead." Uh oh. I was nearing the bridge over the Mississippi River that gets me to work. It is the only bridge for miles, and when there's construction, it's not pretty. And it's not like you can just take a back road across the river. I then remembered the construction I had seen on the bridge on my way home from work the night before--3 miles of cars backed up on the other side of the road. I figured I was doomed.

About a half a mile into the traffic I looked at my dash. The Low Fuel light just came on. Great. Our fuel guage is busted and bounces madly between below empty and 1/4 tank, so you never really know how much you have. The guy who loaned it to us for the summer said "you know it needs gas when it starts shaking." I grew a little nervous.

We weren't backed up for long, though, so I made it to work only ten minutes late, without running out of gas, and was able to get the stuff off my hands and pants. Yay! It was definitely one of those mornings where you look around and go "this is not my morning!" But days like that are good though, because I once heard someone say "whenever you have a day that's "not your day," turn it over to God and make it His day!" So at times like that, I can remember that it wasn't supposed to be "my day" to begin with, and I can put it back in its rightful hands and trust God with whatever He chooses to do with it:-)

So it hasn't been my day--but I guess that's a good thing!

Tag--I'm finally not it any more!

I have much to update you all on.

But I will begin with finally untagging myself. You see, I have been blogger tagged...about a month or two ago, and so I suppose it's time to make someone else "it"

Here are the rules, which I have also plagiarized from Greg:
1. Each player starts with 8 random facts/habits about themselves.
2. People who are tagged write a blog post about their own 8 random things and post these rules.
3. At the end of your post you need to tag 8 people and include their names.
4. You may need to leave them a comment and tell them they're tagged and to read your blog.

Here are my 8 facts:

1. I didn't know how to put air in my car's tires. Until today.
2. I, too, am a Lost fan but am a late bloomer and did not yet know that Ecko died until I read it on Greg's blog. Thanks a lot.
3. Yes, I believe in Climate Change (aka global warming). FYI, Al Gore did NOT invent it like he invented the internet.
4. I love the smell of cows, pigs, and freshly cut grass, as well as loving frogs, toads, geckos, turtles, and small snakes.
5. I have been living out of a suitcase for 3 full weeks now and will continue as such for another two weeks.
6. I've picked up jogging now that my back can handle it. I just hope my lungs can.
7. I love classical music.
8. By the end of the week, I will have spend over 80 hours in a car in the last 3 weeks. Over 100 since June.

And now I am no longer "it"!

Now I tag: Erica Johnson, Adam Smith, Steven Curtis Chapman, Christie Noll, Melodie Sheppard, Alex? and Mattric...that's all I got.

What's that Noise?

Stephen and I took the youth group kids camping last night. This was our third attempt to do so, as rain and other impediments continuously stood in our way. But last night was the night, and we were going to do it whether rain, sleet, or hail (although non were expected). We were excited to have about 14 kids show up, surprising to me, as the trip had been thrown together over so late notice due to the weather's inconsistency.

We loaded up and began the twenty minute drive out to Port Byron to the Johnson's home, a lovely acreage with a pool, a huge hill for a slip 'n' slide, and lots of woodsy area in which to play Jailbreak and Capture the Flag until the wee hours of the morning (which we did).

We had set up the tents (not an altogether pleasant thing to do in the 92* with about 100% humidity), eaten our hot dogs and brats, swam in the pool, and slid down the slip 'n' slide. I watched from a safe distance with a camera. It had been an eventful and hot evening, and the sun had just disappeared behind the hills.

I was engaged in a lovely conversation with Sarah and was musing about how well I could see her despite the lack of stars or moon due to a heavy cloud cover that had just blown in. We noticed that the boys were trying to start a fire and decided we should join them in case anything important was going on. Upon reaching our destination, we ascertained that the lighting of said fire was not going well at all. The boys had been attempting to light the fire for about a quarter of an hour with no success amidst the comments of "My Dad could have lit that fire in two minutes" and "I think the wood is wet."

The boys were adding piles of dried grass and leaves to the fire when I suddenly heard something. It sounded at first like a dull roar, and then, as I turned my ear toward the cornfield nearby, it sounded something like someone turning a shower on over a tarp.

"What's the noise?" I asked, my brow furrowing.

The boys casually looked up and shrugged. "Nothing, I don't hear anything" they concluded after a split second and went back to their fire tending.

But, being a country girl, my heart was now in my throat as I recognized the sound of rain pouring onto cornstalks in the distance. And then I felt it. A drop landed on my nose. And then another on my cheek.

"Guys, that's some serious rain, and it's coming this way fast!" I cried, jumping up. There are few things worse than being stuck in sopping wet clothes and a damp tent for the night.

Everyone began jumping up and running to their tents, abandoning the fire to smolder under the torrent. I ran to the food table and began clearing the trash off as quickly as possible and securing anything that might blow away in case the winds came up. I then hurried to the tent to wait out the storm.

As it happened, the rain only lasted about ten minutes, then departed as quickly as it came. We emerged from our tents gratefully and returned to the fire, which was now, by some freak of nature, billowing in full flames despite the last of the rain still dripping from the clouds.

It was a bit of excitement, and even more exciting that it came and went and didn't bother us again for the whole night. This was especially nice for the boys, who stayed up the ENTIRETY of the night by the fireside, talking like girls, and then progressed to the swimming pool at about 4 am. We were all up by 6:30 (as our tents were about 95* inside), packed up in an exhausted stupor, and drove home. After which I believe we all showered and went straight to bed. For a long time.

Porkies

Yeah, it's been awhile. We're in the Quad Cities for the summer, and I keep thinking "next week things will slow down and I'll be able to catch up on things--like blogging!" But alas...next week never comes.

I haven't been lax in blogging because there is nothing to blog about, that's for sure. Maybe someday I'll catch you up on our trip to Texas, the Kid's graduation, and the running number of spiders and centipedes we kill daily in our little basement cubbyhole (yeah, at least they're not cockroaches, Sister).

But enough of that. That is not the reason for finally sitting down at a computer and typing this out. Allow me to explain.

I accompanied Stephen to work today (as I do rather often when it's wet and cold outside. I have a thing against air conditioning, and the home we're staying in this summer keeps their air conditioning at about 65*. I am outside as much as possible). Lunchtime came around and I suggested happily that we might grab a burger at Checkers, my favorite burger joint in the Quad Cities.

"Or" thought Stephen, rather excitedly "we could go to Porkies!"

I blinked. "Porkies? Uh, what exactly is that?" I'm not sure the images that popped into your head upon reading that, but what popped into mine was not exactly appetizing.

"It's the burger joint that we used to go to all the time when we were kids."

"Oh, and uhh, is it called "porkies" because they serve pork there, or because you get fat if you eat there?" I questioned innocently, not wanting to admit that the very name "Porkies" made my stomach turn.

"Both, I suppose. Wanna go?"

I'm always up for trying new burger joints (ever searching for anything as good as B-Bops), and Stephen seemed to really want to go, so I obliged him. What could it hurt?

On the drive over I continued pondering who in their right mind would name their restaurant Porkies. The very name incites not only nausea, but images of fat pigs and fat old men. And pork...which I'm not fan of. But this was an adventure, right?

We drove through the town of Silvis and pulled into a run-down, orange and brown colored fast food place. The lettering on the sign and windows were those multi-colored sticky stencil letters unevenly placed across the windows announcing the 1/4 pound pork burger was 2 for 1 and 1/2 pound of fries was only $2.75.

We parked and walked in. Upon opening the doors I was instantly bombarded with the mixed smell of grease and cigarette smoke. My stomach turned harder. I'm very sensitive to smells (makes up for Mom's loss of such things:) A couple of large women wearing bright orange "Porkies" shirts stood behind the counter and let us know the the fish sandwich was 25 cents off today. We opted for the cheeseburger and fries, paid too much money, and sat down.

I looked around. We were the only people under 60 in the whole place, save two kids in the corner. And most of them were well over 200 pounds. The walls were covered with pictures pigs in many shapes, sizes, and poses.

By the time our food arrived, my appetite had dwindled exceedingly, but I reached for my burger anyways. I unwrapped it from it's blue and white checkered paper and looked at it. Inside a huge bun was laid a very thin, very greasy slab of hamburger meat covered in cheese. I closed my eyes and took a bite. I swallowed slowly.

Stephen looked at me. "You don't like it, do you?"

I thought it better not to comment, but he was persistent in desiring my opinion. I finally squeaked out, "It kinda tastes like McDonald's." (Greg, I apologize a million times for my constant begging for you to take the youth group to McDonald's on road trips. I can't even look at that place now without feeling sick!)

Stephen sighed and began apologizing profusely for bringing me to Porkies instead of Checkers. I forgave him quickly but asked if we could please leave soon. I was not feeling well at all. We cleared off our table and hurried out to the car again. I still feel like I have a bowling ball in my stomach.

And it really all started because I found out the place was called Porkies. Amazing how a title and an atmosphere can affect one's appetite so strongly. But it can. And I might suggest that the owner of Porkies consider a new name for his restaurant...at the very least.

You Know You're From Iowa When...

I am from Iowa, and I'm proud of it. I think Iowa is one of the best places in the world and I love being back so close to it! But I stumbled across some fun "you know you're from Iowa when" sayings on a friend's blog and have now compiled a list of my own from various sources. If you're from Iowa, you'll probably relate to most of these:-) Have fun!

You Know You're From Iowa When...

• You measure distance in minutes
• Weather is 90% of your conversation
• Snow tires came standard on your car
• The top 5% of your graduation high school class went to Iowa State -- everyone else attended the U of I
• You have no problem spelling or pronouncing "Des Moines" or "Illinois"
  
• You know the answer to the question, "Is this Heaven?"
  
• Your school classes have been canceled because of cold
• You know what "uff-da" means and how to use it properly
• You know what "Amish Country" is
• You've licked frozen metal
• The only reason you go to Wisconsin or Missouri is to get fireworks (or Indiana:-)
  
• You wear shorts when it's 50 degrees out in March, but bundle up and complain in August when it goes below 60 degrees
• You carry jumper cables in your car
• You drink "pop"
• People from other states love to hear you say "Iowa" and other words with "Os" in them
• You know what "Hawks" and "Clones" are
• When someone says they are going out for dinner or supper, you know which meal they are talking about
• You know what "cow tipping" is (and that it actually isn't possible)
• You learned to drive when you were 10
• You know what a Maid-Rite is and know they cannot be served with ketchup
• You say "cattywampus" instead of "kitty-corner"
• You've ever had to switch from "heat" to "A/C" in the same day
• Detassling was your first job
• All the festivals across the state are named after a fruit or vegetable
• You're think people are idiots who say: "You grow great potatoes there."
• You consider being called a "Pork Queen" an honor
• During a storm you check the cattle before you check the kids. (Dad!)
• There's a tornado warning and the whole town is outside watching for it. (what else would you be doing?!)
  
• The local gas station sells live bait.
• You're on a first name basis with the county sheriff. (Dad again...)
• You can eat an ear of corn with no utensils in under 20 seconds.
• Vacation means driving through the Amanas or going to Adventureland
• You've ever been on a "Geode Hunt"
• You have at least 10 recipes for ground beef. At least 10. (Mom: "Of course!")
• You're concerned about the rates of corn growth in Illinois as compared to that of Iowa's.
• Your idea of a traffic jam is ten cars waiting to pass a tractor on the highway.
• You know what's knee-high by the Fourth of July.
• Driving is better in the winter because the potholes are filled with snow.
• You find -20 degrees "a little chilly"
• You know if another Iowan is from southern, middle or northern Iowa as soon as they open their mouth.
• You can drive 65 mph through 2 feet of snow during a raging blizzard without flinching.
• Directions are given using "the" stoplight as a reference
And my all-time favorite...

• You install security lights on your house and garage and leave both unlocked

I Love Our Church!

Stephen and I just returned from church, and my heart is so full! It is so wonderful to be a part of God’s family, to have that common bond with people you’ve never met before. It’s amazing to see how God is working in so many people’s lives, and how that ends up working into your own life, so you can build up and encourage each other in the Lord.

We recently started going to Covenant Presbyterian Church. That decision was very difficult for me, quite honestly. Growing up, I had a fairly narrow view of Christianity, and I honestly didn’t think you found many true Christians outside of Evangelical Free or Baptist churches.

Then I came to the beautiful truths of Reformed Theology. And oh, they are beautiful! My God is so much bigger, so much more powerful, so much more lovely than He ever was before! The comfort I find in a God of complete Sovereignty is inexplicably wonderful. But what was I going to do with these views? The Reformed Theology was not accepted in my home denominations or within my family. I went through a period of intense struggle between what I believed the Bible was saying, and what I wanted my family and friends to think of me. But the more we thought about it, the more we realized “You know what? We are Reformed. That’s what we believe the Bible Teaches. Therefore, we should be attending a Reformed Church!” I was still trying to be who my parents and family were. We wanted to remain in the “safety” of Baptist or E-Free churches—what we grew up with, what we knew, where our parents were at! But the Lord had other plans. So when we finally accepted that, we sought out a solid Reformed Church. And yes, there are a few of them out there;-)

I had been studying the Church Seasons and longed to begin observing them and learning from their significance. I had my heart set on observing Lent and attending an Ash Wednesday service, seeing these things for what they are—a time to focus on Christ and grow deeper in Him. Not for what I’d always seen them—associated with “liberalism” or empty tradition. For some reason, I’m really not sure why, I began looking for Presbyterian Churches in the area. I researched the denomination, the history, and the fact that we wanted to attend a Presbyterian Church of America—they’re the solid ones here! That’s when we found Covenant. We went for the first time in February, loved it, and decided to stay.

With that background, we went to church again this morning. I was again refreshed and awed by seeing something that can become as “normal” as worship done in a slightly different way. One of my favorite things that our church practices is The Lord’s Supper. Instead of passing a plate around, we all rise and go forward to receive the elements and then sit back down and take them together. As we near the pastors, holding the bread and the wine, we reach to take ours, and the pastor or elder looks us in the eye, and with a smile, says, “The body of Christ has been broken for you,” and “the blood of Christ has been spilt for you.” Wow! Something in my heart awakens at that point and wants to burst with joy at the reality of what my Savior has done for me, and the body of Christ now alive in his Church!

After church, we attended our Sunday School class, which is a Covenant Life Class, where we learn about the church, what it believes, and how to get involved. There’s something about that church that just makes me come alive. The only other church that has had that affect on me was Saylorville, in Ankeny. I miss that church! You can just sense the Holy Spirit! The past few weeks we’ve been meeting people in the class and talking with the pastors and have just been surprised over and over again at how genuine everyone is. They are so sincere in their joy to see us again, their concern to help us get involved, to invite us over, their desire to get to know us and see us again. We always feel so incredibly loved—and like God reached down and gave us a big hug:-)

Today we had a lunch afterwards and we stayed for almost two hours, talking to the new people we had met. Some were older, some were the same age. Some had just passed through the stage of life where we were at. Others were still in it. We really connected and had wonderful conversations about how good God is, and what He’s done in our lives.

And now we have to leave. For three months we will be doing Stephen’s internship in the Quad Cities. I have an ache in my heart to leave these people already. Three months is a long time to be away, and I hope they don’t forget us. We’ve exchanged e-mails and we are looking forward to getting together again when we get back. But I am always amazed at God’s goodness. I may be far away from my physical family here in Chicago, but I’m never far away from God’s family! And they are everywhere! Even where you might think you’d never find them;-)

Our Apartment

It occured to me that the majority of you reading my blog have yet to see our home (hint, hint). I always love to see pictures of people's homes, especially when I cannot physically see them myself, so I thought I would post a few pictures for your perusal. Enjoy:-)

Campus Fears

Although I was not directly impacted by the Virginia Tech shootings, it has been interesting to observe the affect it has had on me in particular. In the past, when we have had tragedies in our country, I have grieved with those who grieve as well as I knew how, but because I was not directly affected, it seemed almost surreal, and I didn't really know how to feel or act.

Because I am a college student, though, this time it seems to have hit closer to home. When I think of the scenes that took place, my mind cannot help but envision them in my own classrooms, in my own campus buildings. I realize that something like that could happen on my own campus as well as Virginia Tech. I realized that there could be people on my own campus, in my own life, who are feeling just as desperate and lonely as Mr. Cho was...am I reaching out to them?

Anyone who knows me knows that I struggle with anxiety more than a little. So of course, these thoughts can lead to anxiety in my heart. Especially when I read the accounts of the survivors and envision the horror of those moments. I often wonder what I would have done, how I would have felt, had I been one of the victims?

In some of the accounts of what happened, students tell how Mr. Cho poked his head in many of the classrooms before the shooting began. They assumed he was looking for someone. In reality, he was most likely gauging the amount of people in each room so he could do the most damage. I wonder what it would have been like to see a person, assume they're looking for a classmate (like we've all had happen) and then have him return later to begin gunning everyone down? I have thought. I get a little nervous every time a door opens after class has begun.

So this morning, I was sitting in my 8 am Faith and Learning Class and about halfway through the class, the far door opened. That side of the classroom sits empty, so we keep the lights out. We all turned to look. A dark skinned man wearing a mask leaned around the corner and peered into the room, then disappeared. My heart about jumped out of my chest! The mask he was wearing resembled a cleaning mask, and I had seen him outside the bathrooms earlier, so I was fairly sure he was a janitor, but still! I was scared stiff! I spent the next few minutes praying and calming my heart, trying not to let my imagination run away with me.

All this has just got me to thinking...the fact that the shooting was on a college campus, and I am currently on a college campus (in downtown Chicago no less) has made the whole incident much more real to me, for better or for worse. But I have been able to pray more effectively for those who have suffered because of this. I pray that God will continue to give me a heart for those who are hurting. And I pray nobody's angry with anybody at our school!--and that I may never be one who would fuel such an anger.

Terror in the Night

Stephen and I often have a lot of fun telling people stories of his strange sleep habits, namely his narcolepsy and his sleep talking/walking/adventures. Some of the stories people laugh at--like the time he fell asleep while playing "Jailbreak" and woke up three hours later to people calling his name, crying, praying, believing (based on the trail of blood they found) that he had been dragged off by a wild beast. Others grow concerned about him--like the time he dressed himself and literally drove to work in his sleep at 3 am, only to be woken up by the guard knocking on his window and asking him what he was doing there. And still others are concerned for me, now sleeping beside him, as they hear stories of him rolling over on top of his best friend in the middle of the night, covering his mouth and saying "shhh!!!" then counting slowly to 3 while looking around fearfully, rolling back over and returning to silent sleep. His friend was terrified. They ask me if I'm ever concerned for my safety with such an unpredictable sleeping partner. I answer that I was slightly apprehensive at first, but as he hadn't done anything really scary yet, I basically forgot about it.

Until last night.

I had come down with a dreadful cold and laid around on the couch blowing my nose, trying to sleep, and watching movies and reading all day. However, sleep was not coming easily for me, so I asked Stephen to pick up some NyQuil on his way home from work. After 3 Walgreens and a CVS, he finally found a place that was open at 11 PM. I thanked him profusely (as well as for the little chocolates he brought me. I promised I wouldn't eat them 'til I was better though), took a dose, and went to bed. I woke up a couple of times, like normal, but went right back to sleep.

But at about 3 am, I was startled from a peaceful slumber by Stephen, towering above me in bed, arms outstretched, hands curled like claws, like a lion about to pounce upon his prey. His eyes and mouth were strangely closed, but he was letting out a screech-like noise--something like a mix between an evil chuckle and an angry scream. Terrified, I threw my hands up and screamed right back at him, quivering and quaking.

"STEPHEN! STEPHEN!!" I yelled when I found my voice, attempting to wake him from his sleep. Maybe if I woke him, he would realize he was asleep and not attack me! My muddled brain reasoned.

Stephen had quieted and rolled back over onto his side of the bed. "Huh?" he said, waking slightly.

"You scared me!" I cried, and he apologized and put his arms around me to comfort me...and within seconds his breathing had returned to a steady pace, and I knew he was deep in sleep again.

My sleep, however, was quite fitful for the rest of the night, constantly peeking at him out of the corner of my eye in fear that he would try something else in his sleep. He didn't, however, and we had a good laugh about it this morning. But now that something of this nature has happened, it will probably happen again, and I'm not sure I'm going to sleep well for awhile.

In Which the Bus is Not Handicap Equipped

So this week being Holy Week, we got Good Friday off of classes. As is becoming tradition, we hurriedly called the Grandparents in Indi and asked if they were around for us to come visit for a long weekend. They were just returned from Florida. Sweet. We hopped on-line and purchased our bus tickets (we don't own a car) to get on a bus at 6:00 Thursday night, to arrive in Indi at 10:15 PM local time. Uncle Chris was going to pick us up.

I got off work a bit early and my generous employer dropped Stephen and I off at Union Station where we were to catch our bus. Now, this particular bus line is so cheap, it doesn't even have it's own station, just a sign that says "Bus Stop" where it literally pulls over, loads you up, and leaves. Or at least, that's what's supposed to happen.

So we stood around waiting for about half an hour in the cold (like...25-30 degress I believe). The bus arrived at 6:00. We hurried into a line, and I saw a woman in a wheelchair and her caregiver talking to the bus driver.

"How are they going to get her on the bus?" I asked, eyeing the narrow bus door. Stephen shrugged.

The bus driver checked our reservation number, and we boarded the bus. We breathed a sigh of relief as we found two seats together. (I am always nervous whenever there are no assigned seats that I won't get to sit next to Stephen). Safe on the bus, I settled in and began chatting with Stephen about the day. It wasn't until about 10 minutes later that I realized the bus was full and we still hadn't left yet.

"Where's the bus driver?" I asked Stephen.

Stephen peered out the window. "He's taking a smoke break and talking on his walkie talkie."

"Oh, great!" I moaned. Last time we had a bus driver who smoked, she took a 10 minute smoke break at every stop and we arrived an hour late. She got on the intercom and told her passengers that she was sorry we were late but it "couldn't be helped." Yeah right.

Shortly thereafter, our very short, stout bus driver climbed aboard the bus and faced us. "ALRIGHT!" He yelled. "EVERYBODY OFF THE BUS NOW! THIS BUS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HANDICAP EQUIPPED AND IT ISN'T, SO WE'RE GOING TO HAVE TO SWITCH BUSES."

We all looked at each other. Not handicap equipped?? Is that even legal? And where on earth were they going to get another bus? If you've seen these particular buses, they don't grow on trees. But we all filed off anyways, grabbed our luggage, and stood on the sidewalk. Our very disgruntled bus driver paced the sidewalk furiously, talking on his walkie talkie and lighting another cigarette.

We just happened to be standing next to two other Moody students and struck up a conversation with them. It was cold. After awhile, Stephen asked the bus driver how long it would be before there was another bus. The bus driver stopped in his tracks, now on his third cigarette, spread his arms wide and said "FOLKS, I DON'T KNOW WHEN THE OTHER BUS WILL BE GETTING HERE, I KNOW AS MUCH AS YOU DO!"

An hour (and five cigarettes) later, still standing on the sidewalk, the bus driver got a call from his walkie talkie and announced to the group that a bus was on its way. On its way? What had it been doing for the last hour? We were not comforted, as we didn't know from whence this bus was coming and it was rush hour.

Finally, an hour and a half after we boarded and unboarded the bus, another bus showed up. Again, we filed onto the bus, secured our seats and waited. And waited. And waited. The bus driver climbed into the driver's seat and started the bus. He inched it forward a bit...then climbed off the bus.

"Now what's happening?" I asked. We soon realized that they were trying to load the woman in her wheelchair. They loaded her on the lift, then unloaded her, moved the bus and tried again. Thirty minutes later, the woman, her caregiver, and her dog were finally on the bus. And we actually left the building.

We arrived in Indi shortly after midnight. But at least we made it:-)

Dreams

I have been thinking a lot about dreams lately and their significance. I am not a cessationist by any means, but I have not given dreams a whole lot of thought. Until lately. I believe that God still speaks and that He moves in whatever way He chooses, and I see that in the Bible, He used dreams many times to speak to His people. In fact, in Bible times and up until very recently, dreams were always significant. A lot of times we see them terrifying their recipients. But we see them arise and seek out someone who can tell them the meaning of their dreams. It wasn't until Freud that we stopped attributing dreams to spiritual sources and attributed them merely to physiological means.

While I believe that the Lord speaks to us in our dreams, I am not certain that every dream is God speaking to us. I am still studying this issue. But lately I have been having vivid dreams with very real significance. Some have been very definitely related to spiritual issues that are coming up, and I have known distinctly some mornings when I awake, that the Lord was indeed speaking to me that night, and that I got a window into what is going on in the spiritual realm.

But if my dreams are always from the Lord, why is it that they are almost always haunted and dark? Why do I wake up afraid almost every morning? Why do my dreams torment me? I dream very often, remembering multiple dreams per night, but my dreams are almost always nightmares of some sort. What does God desire to teach me through that, if it is Him speaking? And if all dreams are from God, why do people like Stephen almost never dream? And how do chemical imbalances, such as a low levels of serotonin, play a part in reduction of dreams, if the source of dreams is not physiological but spiritual?

I intend to look into this further. I don't know the answers, but I know God is telling me something! I'll keep you posted!