30DOT Day 9: Gas Money

I have a tendency to groan every time my annoying little light comes on saying I need gas. I have been known to play chicken with my gas tank. And lose. I’ve also been known to pick the broken pump, walk away from the station, and have six gallons of gas overflow from my car into the main area. Yeah… I still don’t think I’m allowed back at that gas station.

I usually mumble something incoherent complaint about having to get out in the freezing cold and pump my gas. Lately I’ve been struck by the immediate thought of: well, you have enough money for a full tank of gas. have you ever not had enough money for gas? what would you honestly do if couldn’t fill up your gas tank? 

And while not accusing but very convicting, I’ve found that by the time my thirteen gallons and 3 minutes are up, my heart is quietly breathing a thankful prayer that I always have enough money for gas.

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30 DOT Day 8: The Men in My Life

Over the past year or so I’ve gotten to know some pretty incredible men. Men who are older than my parents, high schoolers, single, married, divorced, etc. You name it and I feel like I’ve encountered them. One thing that has been pretty consistent the past year is the quality of men I’ve gotten to know.

Just to get this out of the way, I have the most amazing dad and brothers a girl could ask for. They’ve been around my entire life and just continue to amaze me more and more with every passing year. The men in my extended family are fantastic as well. Solid men who love the LORD and are super fun.

That being said, I met a few guys in Nashville who weren’t complete idiots or d-bags. Most of them though couldn’t be relied on in times of trouble or when you thought someone was breaking into your house or there was a tornado in the middle of the night. I knew probably a dozen or so that were truly worth their weight in gold. The whole Nichols Management crew (boss and artists included), the Caldwell boys, Belmont boys (inclusive of the famlee) and the Shelby houses.

But when I moved back to Colorado things changed. Maybe it’s because I didn’t have a large circle of acquaintances, I invested in just a couple guys quite a bit. Guys that would come on group trips, guys who are always aware of the surroundings especially when I’m with them, guys that made me feel safe and protected any time they were around. And guys that cared enough about my heart to fight for it. To not let me pull any of my old stunts and make me sort through to the root of the problem. I’d never had a male peer fight for my heart before and now I had a handful of guys who cherished my heart so much that I knew I could trust them when they pushed.

There’s something that only a man can do to a woman’s heart. I’m not just talking about romantically either. I do fully believe that when a woman knows she’s loved by a man the very essence of who she is. I’ve seen it all too many times not to believe how a woman can change from love.

But I’ve also seen and personally experienced the kind of change that happens to a woman when good men fight for her. When they honor, respect, treasure, and protect her. I became a better woman because the men in my life loved me so well. I began to expect that I was only worthy of rejection from men even in a friendship context. But these men showed me differently. These men showed me that because I am the most precious daughter of the High King that I am worth someone risking everything they have.

These men taught me that I am lovely, lovable, worthy, and wanted. They taught me to allow a man to hold the door or walk me to my car. They taught me that it’s okay to be my messy self in front of them. They taught me that they’d rather have the real version of who I am then some fake perfect girl who never says awkward things. They taught me to wait for the man who literally has tunnel vision when he sees me. They taught me that it’s okay to ask for help and actually, they like it when I ask them to open the can or carry a box. They taught me that there still are men out there that love the LORD passionately. That they may not have a perfect story and they may not say the right things all the time, and they’ll probably forget I’m a girl and make a really inappropriate joke, but that they are trying to let others love all of them as well. And if I meet a man who is half as amazing as Robby, Don, Michael, Roy, and Jim I’ll be a lucky lucky girl.

So here’s to you guys – how different things are in a year but I couldn’t wish better stories for each of you right now. I’ve seen how good the LORD is through the way you love so well. I respect you guys more than you know.

30DOT Day 7: Sore Muscles

Tonight I lifted the remote to turn off the TV and I winced. And then I smiled. Because the pain in the back of my arm reminded me of the 90+ minutes I spent in a room with several other people, putting ourselves through some odd form of enjoyable torture.

I love the feeling of working out after. During, not so much. In fact, I joked with my roommate that especially with hot yoga I have to literally go to a different head space to even be able to endure it. For some reason though I love it. Granted it takes me a couple days to psych myself up to go but once I’m there I’m committed.

The other thing I love about sore muscles is that is reminds me that I’m alive. My work days are spent behind a computer, on the phone, or sitting in a cube. Nothing that I terribly enjoy. I wish I could get paid to be active – to be moving around and experiencing the fullness of life. So sometimes it feels like when I have sore muscles I’m wakening my sleepy body and soul to engage with what’s happening around me.

The sorest I ever remember being in my entire life was after my first hot yoga class. I literally hurt so bad I could hardly move. I probably did everything wrong in a feeble attempt to prove that I could do it, but it was awful. I was nannying for the Mac’s at the time and I remember barely being able to pick up Judah or get Leo a snack. I still feel the incredible soreness now but I’ve gotten a little more used to it.

So today I’m thankful for my sore muscles.

30DOT Days 5/6: Lazy Weekends and Falling Back

Do you ever have those weekends you just so need? The weekends where when you do go outside you’re wearing what still resembles sweats and/or PJ’s? You throw your hair in a pony tail, wipe the sleep from your eyes, and put on a tiny bit of mascara as to not scare small children. The inevitably you end up back home either laying on the couch or doing  nothing.

Yesterday was one of the glorious blissful lazy saturdays. I knew the kitchen needed to cleaned, laundry needed to be done, and I had a mound of the clothes the size of a small country on my floor but I just needed to be still. So I did. I caught up on a TV show (Dawson’s creek) which made me BAWL my eyes out, got some dinner with my roommate and watched two movies. It was perfect.

And on top of it, we had FALL BACK. Every year during Spring Forward I just think about fall back. I didn’t even know it was happening until like 3 days before. What a fun surprise. I mean I think every 6 months we should fall back. Granted… we’d probably end up living back in 1987 and we all know the 80’s weren’t good to ANYONE but still. Who would be opposed to falling back all the time? Think of all the extra sleep. Yes and yes.

Tonight I’m going back to hot yoga. I’m a glutton for punishment I guess.