"today is your last day"..."yeah, right"

I really prefer just coming here to write simple observations and show off the cutest kids on the planet, tell about adventures abroad, not reveal pain or any part of my private life. But I personally know that I prefer the juicy tell-alls over a brief editorial any day. This is such a vital part of the over all story of my days of grace and the days to come. As painful as it is to talk about, I have to share. You have all walked through so much, trips to Africa, babies birthdays, weddings, crazy dreams, the second job, shopping sprees. So here we go.

In October, Julie Andrews was on Oprah. She talked about her voice and its total complete loss. What a tragedy? Perhaps one of the greatest vocalist in the world, losing her voice forever. In the interview above, a few years prior, she is in admitted complete denial. Yet, her eyes still sadden, even now when she talks about it. A huge part of her is gone forever. I cannot imagine having so much of my identity stripped away overnight. In the Oprah interview, her whole demeanor changed when she talked about the loss. I wanted to run up to her and encourage her and tell her that her identity is not in her voice, that she is "fearfully and wonderfully made", "created in His image" and that she, stripped of any singing talent, on her worst day, has the Spirit of God residing within her, within you, within me, within us. We are way more powerful and amazing than we ever give ourselves credit. We believe the lies that we are second rate, that we are not good enough and we deny the world having the chance to have an encounter with us. We shrink back in doubt and insecurity. Our identity is not our talents, our giftings, it's Christ in us, us in Him. Even the most wayward unbeliever is a king, just unaware of who he is called to be. We are all kings, put on this earth to love and encourage one another and to reign over the earth. We were put in charge here.

There were so many nights I wrestled with the lies when who I was seemed to be defined by a necktie and an apron. I was treated like a waitress. Invisible. Sometimes I retrieved my identity by looking at the degrees on my office wall or having an elected official include me in dinner reservations or a round of golf. I could never reveal to anyone new what I did for a living without lengthy conversations about the state of Georgia, and detailed questions about my observations and insight into Gold Dome gossip. I often felt like the doctor at the table, with everyone showing their moles and cuts and strange ailments. I would sit and listen to their issues, opinions and nod like the politicians taught me, placating them. 

Friday, my hand tied identity rug, the one I stood on that meant I was important, somewhat valuable, a little bit smart, well informed, on the pulse of all things within the State, got ripped out from under me. I lost my job. I was let go. All I know is that it was not my fault. The meeting lasted five minutes and I was quickly packing up my office. It sent me reeling. It has honestly had little to do with the title and identity in my career, since I wore that rug out doling out cocktails at the country club, and more to do with the security, the financial security. I know my year as a waitress helped me address the issue of who I was and stand firm in the value of simply me. But the security of automatic payments, twice a month, that is another issue. Perhaps I have put way too much security in this all along. I have actually wanted to leave for years. The luster of Georgia politics wore off quite some time ago. I have had December 1, 2010 circled on my calendar for years now. The date I would be vested into the retirement system and the reason I continued to stay in a job that I pretty much hated. I fully intended to leave on my 10 year anniversary date and buy a one way ticket to Africa. 

I recently got to hear my friend Sherri Lewis, former physician, now missionary in Cameroon, share about how on the very day she quit her job as a physician, she got an email from the group she is now working with in Cameroon. How her letting go, released her into a greater destiny. Her testimony ending with how she is in the very center of where she wants to be and cannot imagine living or being anywhere else in life. I know that feeling and I have never felt that way here, doing bill summaries, in committee meetings, or at receptions with cocktails, whether sipping or serving. 

About a month ago I was invited to join a group building a vocational school in Mozambique. We have plans to go in April and spend the month together, planning and preparing. I desperately wanted to go but knew work would make it difficult, to take that amount of time off and be gone so close to the end of the Legislative Session. Maybe I am still in shock, but the excitement of getting to go and not having to go back to the desk job, overshadowed automatic payments. I know that the vision I have is a journey and the past ten years have not been wasted, but training me for more. I cannot question God's faithfulness, He's been too good. I put my security in a State job, one of the most secure you can have and that didn't work. I had asked Him to show me if this path was one He wanted me to take, to join my friends in Mozambique. He has all but placed a neon sign above the path. At 11AM on Friday I started to do the math in my head, attempting to figure out what would happen if I just quit my job. How long could I live off savings? How much would I get paid in leave time? Should I simply take that leave time and then quit? At 4PM the decision was made for me. The benefits of being let go outweigh those of quitting. He's got my back. We've got a plan. I'm on my way. I cannot be robbed or stolen from, because none of it belongs to me anyway. With identity in Him, security in Him, nowhere else to go but Him, He is already bringing me into the center of where I am supposed to be. Who knew that losing something so great would be such a massive blessing? 

Post losing her voice, Julie Andrews received an Emmy, a Grammy, published 24 books and became the voice of a queen (Shrek). I am tempted to quote Maria von Trapp and say, "When God closes a door, somewhere He opens a window". But I somewhat disagree with that theology. I don't think God takes away our prized possessions or gives us sickness or disease in any form. He is just a master at taking what the evil one threw our way and turning it into something beautiful.

Surf's up!

The first time I went surfing, I lost sleep the night before. I was full of nervous excitement of what dawn patrol and standing top of a wave would bring. The ride out to the beach didn't settle my fears. With boards strapped on top of the little black Subaru and Master Surfer, Shelley Merrick giving me instructions, "watch the nose, it'll pop up and hit you in the face", "how well do you swim?", "watch for rocks". Fear and anxiety overcame giddy excitement. I think I was more nervous about just looking like an idiot than being eaten by a shark, I wanted to surf with grace. I know I got really quiet all the way out to the beach, our boards underneath our arms. We paddled out, watched the waves. I got on my stomach, looked over my shoulder and watched the sets roll over and over. When the right set came along, Shelley yelled, "Go!". I paddled with all my might, hands pushing on the board to keep it from popping up, quickly jumped into position, and stood. I SURFED! Instantly ready to paddle right back out and go again.

This series of emotions has been a constant in my life. Anxiety and uncertainty met by sheer delight. This is how I feel. I am about to jump into a deep end of so many unknowns. I am full of expectancy and angst and joy and delight. I have so much going on. I will share full details...soon! It's going to be a wild ride.

Here lately...

Natty has learned to wink.

A best friend had a baby and I got to watch my Dad hold him, just hours old. I got to hold him too, of course.

The snow I missed at Christmas, graciously came back per my request and gave me TWO DAYS OFF FROM WORK!!!!

Christmas 2010

I have a new cousin. Just one glance and I was forever smitten. I am madly in love with this little girl. Her personality is so sweet, she is so gentle and so cuddly. Some babies are skinny and too active and too spitty and fuss and don't like to be held. McCarley is squishy. She made my Christmas. I can't wait to get to Columbia and spend quality time with this child. I want her to know all about her Grandma Martha and I want her to know that I have her back and she can call on me if she ever needs anything. I will always have gum and she can confide in me and I want to always cheer her on for life, like Martha did for me.

Christmas with the Fallin's was celebrated a week early because of my plans to be with Laura. I racked up! Carla always takes care in filling my stocking and making me feel so incredibly, lavishly loved. Some of my favorite presents from the past are from the Dollar Tree. She usually takes the kids and lets them pick out gifts for us there. I love seeing what they think I will like. And they usually are so very much something I like or really need, like shower curtain liners and batteries and cookie sheets. One year Carson got me a tiny porcelain house covered in snow that was almost an exact replica of the house on College Avenue. But Carla says the Dollar Tree has gone downhill as of late and they just have junk now. So, I got a whole set of Fiestaware in Peacock Blue and Dad gave me an LCD-TV. I had seen it near the Christmas tree at their house and assumed it was not for me. Dad tricked me as if I were 12 and brought it in after all gifts were opened. It worked and I reacted like a 12 year old. So giddy and excited about my new technology. I use it as a computer monitor in my bedroom and journal and write and edit perched on pillows with a wireless keyboard and it is lovely.

I left on the 22nd and spent Christmas with Laura and her sweet little family. I am so glad I got to be with her. We baked cookies and rocked babies and laughed. It was both sad and sweet watching the kids open presents Christmas morning while John sat on the coffee table via iChat from my laptop while in Iraq. I am honored to even know him. Staying with Laura, in her cozy little guest room in the basement, made me want to quit my job and move into her basement and be there all the time. We could be like Rhoda and Mary, popping in and out of each others apartment, sharing food and good conversation. I wish I could help her all the time with the kids and this overwhelming life as a single mom while John is gone. It broke both our hearts for me to leave. So we are now back to our remote friendship of never living in the same time zone and long phone conversations and iChats and simultaneous Target shopping in different locations.

It was such a great Christmas. I am so incredibly blessed, such sweet family, such wonderful friends, so always undone by the kindness of my Savior.

Thanksgiving...a little late

I just realized I never posted about Thanksgiving. I never came here to record the days events or to post pictures of the main feature, pie. I cooked the night before. I made O'Bannon Sweet Potato Souffle and Tequila Cranberry Sauce. The next morning I woke up early, loaded them up in my car and went to work. Yes, work. On Thanksgiving. I worked last year also. The Town Club has a massive Thanksgiving Buffet and working it is mandatory. 


When I first arrived, I snuck all my food into the Bar refrigerator and creeped upstairs to the employee kitchen for coffee. Still very much asleep and very much wanting to get the next few hours over as quickly as possible. I settled on a stool with my coffee and began the process of ringing up tickets which was my delegated job. On-Call Event staff serves the buffet and so the rest of the full time Wait staff gets to do other jobs that day. I was looking forward to sipping my coffee, punching in member numbers and charging them for Mimosas and Bloody Mary's and the $35 buffet. I admit, I make it entertaining, taking notice of who is there, how many members in their party and what they are drinking. I have to keep myself occupied somehow. "There are only 4 people at that table and they had 17 glasses of champagne! Yikes" = Self-made Entertainment while you work.


I was instantly interrupted mid-sip by a tap on the shoulder and a bartender holding a black bow tie and tuxedo jacket. It had been ripped, just moments before, from a suddenly ill banquet server and now I was being given the job. I instantly went from my cozy stool and noticing that Mr. Smith needed a highchair and must be bringing his grandchildren to dashing all over the banquet room, getting tea, coffee, water, cocktails, and more for 40 people, per three 2 hour shifts. We served over 900 that day. I felt like I had been punched in the face. It was a rude awakening from my stool and coffee to an ugly polyester tuxedo and 40x3 thirsty, hungry, high maintenance people needing something from me. It was chaos, to me, and it was hard. It was time and a half but they can keep their money. I wanted to go home. I wanted to eat sweet potatoes. I didn't want to carry mimosas on a tray and give them away. I didn't want to act like these little girls in stockings and smocked dresses and big bows and monogrammed panties were the highlight of my day. They weren't. I wasn't the least bit excited to see them. I didn't mind seeing them on paper, punching them in and charging their accounts. In that state I got to have coffee and think about other things. In this state, I had to work, hard and act as if I was as overjoyed to be there as they were. That is not an easy thing to do. I am possibly one of the most transparent persons you will ever meet. 


My face is a book. So I don't know if trying to act as if I care comes across even worse than just being myself and looking a little miserable, but I gave it my best. I smiled at babies, I helped a little boy choose dessert from possibly one of the most incredibly arrays of desserts one can imagine, I took an old lady hot English Breakfast tea that I had to go to Marietta to go and get. The whole time, wishing I were just with my family. In jeans and boots and cashmere and casual and not in a stuffy place with chandeliers and Riedel, but home. I certainly appreciate all those things, but I wanted pie and my family. I whined to the right person and finally got to go, but it was an hour too late. 


By the time I got to Carla's everyone had eaten and I was so incredibly exhausted from all I had just endured, that I could not eat a bite. And for me to not be hungry means something. I was so incredibly tired. Feet hurt, back hurt, brain hurt. Comatose. One tiny perk was that I did get a 10 minute break to go partake of possibly the nicest Thanksgiving Buffet that money toward membership in North America's #1 Country Club can buy. But even that was partially no good because I had to eat it in such a hurry. 


But I could't help, despite my exhaustion and frustration, be so incredibly thankful. So many blessings I cannot contain. Here are a few:

a day to be me.

i had whole entire day, thanks to our veterans, to do whatever i wanted. so this is what i did:

it was lovely. the new camera actually does a pretty good job of revealing a little of the beauty and majesty of the woods in Georgia.  i could have walked for hours and actually i did. so therapeutic and restful and just what i needed. i dreamed and talked to myself, to God and stole a pinecone, a very big one. it felt like a treasure i had found. i practiced setting the timer and used tree stumps to jump off of and made goofy jumping pictures with my tongue involuntarily hanging out. i can prove it, but i won't. 

missionary's have the best facebook status' ever

Teena Paul


We thought we'd seen some pretty shocking vehicles in Africa -- until we hired James and the green truck to fetch some bricks. This truck was in a class of its own. It reeked of petrol, had no first or second gear, had only gaping black holes in the dashboard where instruments had once been, no handbrake, and of course no registration. Once loaded with bricks, it was unable to get going in 3rd gear. After 20 mins of revving and wrestling with the gears, it ran out of petrol. We left them to it and walked back to the building site 1km away. An hour later, we were astonished to see the truck approaching -- backwards! He'd reversed all the way from the brickmakers, passing a police roadblock along the way.

19 hours ago ·LikeUnlike · Comment2 people like this.

Here you go, Mary.

My friend Mary tagged me. You know, those crazy quizzes that ask if you have ever been skinny dipping or what kind of animal would you most want to be?  I actually like these. Especially when they are answered well. Just yesterday I found where I had answered a 50 question one asking if you had done a long list of things like been to Hawaii or seen one of the Wonders of the World or held a brand new baby.

I was quite surprised to be able to check off over half of them. But I don't think I ever sent it to anyone because then others feel obligated to answer back and a 50 question questionnaire is a huge endeavor.  And that is the best part after all, when you get to read about others. Typically the last question is, "Who do you think will be the first to respond?". I couldn't think of a soul who had the time to sit down and fill all that out, so I saved the file and gave up. Now no one will know that milk is my favorite beverage and that I have never been bungee jumping. When I saw that Mary tagged me to answer these, I felt compelled to give it my best. Here I go.

1. What actor/actress would you want to play you in a movie?

I would want Catherine Zeta Jones to play me, because she is the most beautiful woman I can think of. However, we are nothing alike really. If she were truly playing out my life, she would need to be goofy and quirky and a little odd and quite silly and even a little spastic. Tina Fey might be a much better fit. 

2. Who is your favorite author and what is your favorite book by them?

This is such an impossible question. It is like asking your favorite song. Every day brings a new favorite, every mood, every season. But off the top of my head, I really like Kaye Gibbons. I read almost everything she wrote in just a few weeks once I discovered that I liked her. So all her books run together for me. So I think On the Occasion of My Last Afternoon and Charms for the Easy Life and Virtuous Woman and A Cure for Dreams were all my favorites and just became one long story about women in the South. However, her newest book was a disappointment. I bought it in autographed hardback version. I actually gave it to Carla for her birthday. She didn't like it and gave it to me to read and I never even finished it. She has been compared to Faulkner, but I don't like Faulkner much. A huge fan I remain.

3. Where would you go on a dream vacation?
Sometimes I feel like I am not creative enough to dream up new places to go. I think Australia would be fun or New Zealand. I have seen pictures of Fiji that take my breath away. Oh! and Iceland too. But I have so many other questions with this one. Who is with me on this dream vacation? How much time do we have? Do we have to come home from there? What is our budget for food? Accommodations? Are there children in tow? Is this like a honeymoon vacation? Or am I with girlfriends? Or am I solo, backpacking, looking for a cute European doing the same?

I guess one answer is that I have always wanted to go back to Zimbabwe. On random days I will ride by a random building, walk a busy street, smell a certain fragrance, and suddenly I am back in Zimbabwe. One night while there, we slept in this amazing thatched roof house on top of a mountain. We could wake to overlook vastness and watch the kudu graze. We built a fire in a pit on the veranda. I ate the best mashed potatoes I ever put in my mouth. I watched the most beautiful sunset I have ever seen. I dreamt of getting married on that mountaintop and leaving the ceremony on an elephant, as a couple had done the weekend before. I want to go back there. Marry in white linen. Take my whole family. Eat mashed potatoes. But that would not be a vacation. That would be a wedding. So maybe Fiji. But then I would have to wear a bathing suit. Eeek. Iceland then.

4. What are you most afraid of?

Snakes. Cannot EVEN post a picture. I don't even fear death itself. Not bugs or rodents. Kind of fear vomit. But snakes way worse. Petrified. Try to psyche myself up. But tremble in fear. Climbing up walls, fetal position Fear.

5. If you could have all your friends on a deserted island, what are three things you would all do together?
1) Swim! (We have snorkels and masks too, right?)
2) Pray and Sing and Worship and Dance

3) Catch Lobster and Conch and spear Grouper, collect coconuts and gather around for delicious meals and good conversation. Is there a Whole Foods on the island by chance? We will need Chardonnay. 

 Is the deserted island near Fiji? If so, I will want to take that off my potential vacation spots.


6. What's something people don't know about you?


I have freckles between my toes. There is no way people know about this because I just found them myself a few days ago. (Photos available upon request. )


7. What is your guilty pleasure?


According to Wikipedia, THE authority on all things, "A guilty pleasure is something one enjoys and considers pleasurable despite feeling guilt for enjoying it. Often, the "guilt" involved is simply fear of others discovering one's lowbrow or otherwise embarrassing tastes, rather than actual moral guilt. Fashion, music,[1] and food (especially unhealthier foods high in sugar and/or fat) can be examples of guilty pleasures".[2]


It used to be Reality TV, but everybody else started making it their guilty pleasure so now it no longer meets the definition. I don't think it qualifies because others no longer see it as "lowbrow" or "embarrassing". It has become an absolute norm to rush home, grab a bowl of cottage cheese, sautee' some spinach, throw it in with the cottage cheese, get under a fuzzy blanket in green yoga pants and a grey tshirt, open up the laptop to check Facebook while watching the Real Housewives of Atlanta, and eating 70% cocoa dark chocolate chips for dessert.


If checking out books at the library is deemed "lowbrow" or "embarrassing", I do that all the time. I even get online and pick out books I want and put them on hold at my library right down the street. But that is not lowbrow, that is "resourceful" and an excellent service provided and utilized by my taxpayer dollars. So that won't count either.


Some women would say, "Shoes". But I hate shoes. I pretty much always drive barefooted. I take my shoes off time I get in the car and at any given time most all of my shoes are in the back floorboard of my car. Most every morning, I leave the house barefooted and then just pick the shoes I want when I get in the car. I hate a sloppy car, so I rotate 2 or 3 pairs at any given time. Heels, Slides, and a pair of flats can usually be found, somewhat neatly behind the passenger seat. When I get to be Governor of Georgia, if and when I decide to run, I will make it a law that you don't have to wear them. Ever. Grocery stores, work, escalators. "No shoes? No problem." That motto is way better than, "Wisdom, Justice and Moderation". 

Sckanon?

During my trip to Kansas, Laura and I would hear this each morning from the backseat of her Honda Odyssey. Little Owen asking, "What's going on?" But in his two year old voice. It came out, "Sckanon" and Hailey, Laura and I merged it into our everyday lingo. So here's what's "sckanon" with me.

Maggie from Ohio with an Irish Accent

 My friend Maggie came to visit! She came to spend time with her Londoner friend Jessica who was in Atlanta for a wedding. It was such an incredibly, amazing blessing. A new friend I have come to know better and an even newer friend, I have found. Two amazing women who came to spend a few days in my city and share their lives with me. They encouraged me, fed me, physically, spiritually and it was all lovely. They made fun of my accent and I tried to mimic theirs, Irish and British mixed together. I gave Maggie by best Scarlet O'Hara, per her request, and I think she was impressed. Little does she know I could start at the very beginning of the movie with the Tarleton boys wooing Scarlet on the front porch and begging her to save a dance for them at the BBQ over at Twelve Oaks, but I didn't want her to know how Southern I really am. It's thick, Maggie. I confess.

We had a perfect dinner at Rosebud and by perfect I pretty much mean perfect. We could not decide on what to get so we got a table full of starters and sides and a lovely Pinot and it was all perfection. We spent a night at Serenbe and it was pretty perfect too. Lovely chats on the porch or by the pool in the big swing. On one of our walks I really wanted to jump on the trampoline and as soon as I asked if anyone else wanted to jump I thought, "Grow up". But they said YES! And I was elated because of course I wanted to jump, but would have looked like an idiot solo on the trampoline, showing off my toe touch while my chic European friends watched this country bumpkin yelling, "Come on y'all". Thankfully they wanted to jump too and it made us all giggle a little and it was silly fun. Then Jessica suggested we go for a swim and I knew I had found friends for life. Friends who are willing to jump in cold water just because the sun is out and you can't swim every day and it's invigorating. So we all went swimming. In October. Of course, it was at least 80 degrees out. When we first arrived I overheard the check-in lady tell Jessica that the pool was not heated. Ha! She doesn't know us. "We came here to jump on the trampoline, brave the chilly water, hike your trails, eat your peanut butter cookies. No we are not twelve, but we remember what it feels like and we recreate it as often as we can". 

Sweet Jessica, from London by way of Ireland and Boston

You have no idea.

Girls.

quotes

"my heart aches for those who live in complacency, when they were designed to burn". - bill johnson

"if you will make a history with God, He will change history with you".- bill johnson

"I'm Nattypood"

His sister had dressed him up like a girl and I was feeding him hummus and crackers to keep him still. This was the result: 

"now and then we had a hope that if we lived and were good, God would permit us to be pirates". - Life on the Mississippi- Mark Twain

Snakes, Snails and Puppy Dog Tails

I was excited to capture my favorite faces in the beautiful October sun with the new camera. I stepped into their backyard and was greeted by my favorite two year old shouting my name and running full force into my arms. There is no feeling like it. I dropped everything and scooped him up and swung him around. I plopped him back down on the ground anxious to see his lovely face, ready to capture every pixel of his beauty. I imagined the results, his big blue eyes, his blonde hair like a halo upon his head. I took one glance. He was filthy. He looked like Pig Pen. A plume of dirt followed him back to the sandbox where he immediately sat down and began digging and rolling, revealing a live earthworm he had planted there in the bed of a yellow dump truck. His brother, who had been on a Boy Scout camping trip the night before, was surrounded by his own plume. A little disappointed they were not in their matching seersucker smocked jumpers, holding hands and running through an open field. I could not resist capturing them as they were. Worms, dirt, hamsters and all.