What if, when asked "Can you hold please?" while making phone call, you said, "NO! NO, I CANNOT HOLD! I REFUSE!" What would happen then?

Sometimes I look like a vagabond. A homeless person. A decrepit wreck.

The reason for this general appearance can usually be closely tied to the stress level of my week. Usually, I am understanding of other people's derision of my appearance. It is acceptable. I look awful.

But this week, as I was crossing the street, looking like a homeless vagabond wreck, I got an up-down and snort of derision from a little old, nasty lady smoking a cigarette in her massive, deteriorating automobile. Her lip actually sneered at me!

I didn't blink. I just looked right back at her and thought,

"Sure, I may be wearing an ugly sweat shirt, but my skin care is miles ahead of yours, Ms. Smoker."




This sort of petty vindictiveness means my life is too small...

If I didn't know there was God...

"I had tried to be happy by telling myself that man is an animal, like any other which sought its meat from God. But now I really was happy, for I had learnt that man is a monstrosity. I had been right in feeling all things as odd, for I myself was at once worse and better than all things. The optimist's pleasure was prosaic, for it dwelt on the naturalness of everything; the Christian pleasure was poetic, for it dwelt on the unnaturalness of everything in the light of the supernatural. The modern philosopher had told me again and again that I was in the right place, and I had still felt depressed even in acquiescence. But I had heard that I was in the WRONG place, and my soul sang for joy, like a bird in spring. The knowledge found out and illuminated forgotten chambers in the dark house of infancy. I knew now why grass had always seemed to me as queer as the green beard of a giant, and why I could feel homesick at home."

— G.K. Chesterton (Orthodoxy)

Good morning, Fall! How I love you!

I'm wearing my white scarf.

Being someone who loves white scarves, I own quite a few, but this one is my favorite. My mother purchased it for me last fall when the family went on a trip without totally-swamped-in-grad-school me. It's a thick, cable-knit, with a softness that belies its durability and practicality. I'm not good at choosing practicality over attractiveness, but my mother was able to combine them both in this scarf purchase.

I'm sipping dark, strong coffee.

I love very dark, strong, black coffee. But it must have low acidity, or else even my mouth curdles at the excess harshness. Coffee should be soothingly smooth while still aggressively caffeinated. The Papua New Guinea blend s especially rich and smooth. I'm enjoying my bottomless cup...

I spent the morning outside.

Fall foliage is reaching its most resplendent color hues. This morning David and I went to a cross country meet (Rossville did very well!), and I've decided that my children will run cross-country, if for no better reason that they're some of the most enjoyable meets that I've ever been to, and as a mom I could enjoy them with equanimity (and pack some truly amazing snacks).

Now I'm supposedly studying in a coffee shop. In all reality, I'm trying to find a way to begin my newest venture into fiction and I have have little to no interest in completing the dysphagia report that I'm supposed to be writing. But life is more than swallowing and school. This post has no goal nor a point. It only serves to portray my general contentment with the world right now.

I love Fall.

Genesis 1:1, Hebrews 2:9,10

Stars.

Space.

Infinite, unknown world, light years long, incomprehensibly trillions of billions of miles in size.

The Creator of that massive expanse is so much larger than even His unfathomably large creation. I cannot grasp even the created's size, how can I hope to grasp the expanse of the One powerful and large enough to design, orchestrate, and execute a masterpiece of such beauty and size? Falling further and further into space, the world ceases to be visible. The sun, a massive ball of power that we cannot even approach, also slips from view, showing it to be one of the palest of the heavenly bodies. Our solar system disappears into our galaxy which subsequently fades to nothing in a sea of distant stars. An expanse I cannot quantify, cannot imagine.

But above, and throughout, and intimately involved with each detail is my unmeasurable God. And that same, unbelievably infinite, massive God cares about us. About this speck in his creation. He cared so much that he made himself one of us. He made himself small. Because his love is as vast and infinite as his greatness. He came to this tiny, insignificant, undetectable speck of a planet, to save a people who are too self-absorbed and selfish to truly worship the great God who created them in his likeness.

"And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide, and high, and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge--that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God."

"In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth... Thus the heavens and the earth were completed in all their vast array."



"O LORD, our Lord,
how majestic is your name in all the earth!
You have set your glory
above the heavens.
When I consider your heavens,
the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars,
which you have set in place,
what is man that you are mindful of him,
the son of man that you care for him?"

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning.
Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it."

Paranoia and Flashing Nascar Shoes

**sigh**

What on earth is wrong with me!?!

Today, while perusing the flow of my Facebook news feed (yes, I was doing so instead of studying), I came across yet another friend from my high school years who had taken the plunge into matrimony, and now she's a mom!

Oh. My. Flipping. Word.

She hasn't been the first of my acquaintances to add the term "mommy" to their resumes. Baby pictures are springing up all over my "home page." And now I'm getting wedding AND baby shower invitations. I had steeled myself to deal with the weddings (and I really enjoy them!). I've gotten pretty good at that. (You don't attend eight weddings in one summer and NOT get good at that.) But BABIES!?! I'M NOT READY FOR BABIES!

If I'm not ready, my peers shouldn't be ready! Right?

I'm still floundering with the idea of what it means to be a wife, but children? I haven't even THOUGHT of children. And now I see others tackling the monumental task of parenting, when I haven't even had the guts to address the "I do forever" aspect of a family.

I spent the morning screening little four and five year olds for speech and language problems (they all passed), and as one little boy sat in front of me, smacking his feet on the floor so I could see how his "flashy Nascar shoes" lit up, while he explained to me that shoes were bought at a shoe store-- I wanted to be a mommy.

I want to teach colors, and marvel at little hands and feet. I want to debate with my husband on whether the baby has my eyes or his. I want to make massive amounts of peanut butter sandwiches, and buy silly band-aids, and pack snacks for the soccer team. I want to paint a wall with chalkboard paint and teach them how to sing "Father Abraham."

But there's so much MORE! The baby will be an immortal soul. It's a baby who will one day grow up and make decisions, and choose whether or not he/she will follow Christ and bring Him glory. The adorable baby will be a sinner who needs to be instructed in the way he/she should go.

I think my view of parenting is the same as my view of marriage. The day-to-day aspect, I think I'd be able to handle. Sure, there will be tough times, but for the most part I think I would enjoy it. However, when I dwell on the enormity of the task, and the seriousness of the commitment, I blanche in terror at my inadequacy to fulfill those roles.

And that's where my problem lies- in expecting my own strength to be the foundation of my "success." What pride on my part! God knew that I wouldn't be able to do it on my own, so He sent His Son. Only when I'm fully relying on His power and the grace administered through the gospel, can I live the role that He designed me for.

Now, how to take that head knowledge and apply it to the fact that I still get abjectly paranoid at the thought of MY being a wife and mother...

Recognizing that 1) I am too busy to adequately maintain this blog, and 2) that women have crazy ideals, and 3) men like football

And because this just makes me laugh... :)

Let's just say that a breakfast of scrambled eggs with sharp cheddar cheese and organic cilantro salsa make the Indiana Veteran's Home less daunting.

Together Happiness

Tonight, as Julie and I were walking into Target holding hands, she stopped and looked up at me,

"Cookie! We're together!"

My little heart became very happy, and I replied,

"Yes, we are together. I like it, don't you?"

She smiled and sighed contentedly, "Yes."

Define: seek (sēk) v. sought (sôt), seek·ing, seeks: To try to locate or discover; search for, To endeavor to obtain or reach

This morning, I spent some time on Psalm 105:4, and the following struck me...

If it is my job to seek God, and if the riches that follow such a quest are as great as they are, why is it that I so constantly get pulled away and distracted? The competing activities and thoughts all come down to one thing:

I do not know my God.

Could I but see a glimpse of the power and overwhelming beauty of my Savior and God, no doubt all else would be wiped from my mind, and I could not even entertain viewing another as more important than the Almighty.

A life that is lived seeking the glory of my God is accomplished by knowing that same God. That knowledge erases all other thoughts and distractions. How simple is the recipe for Christian growth! How gracious of God to make it so! Only through knowing him, having an increasing knowledge of his love, grace, mercy, justice, sacrifice... (etc.) can I expect life-transforming change as I become the creature he created me to be for his glory.

What a delightful quest! How pleasant the painful task of change becomes when I realize that I am not in the foreground. My God is.

Lord, allow me to follow Psalm 105:4 today...

"Look to the Lord and his strength; seek his face always."
(Ps. 105:4)

Vacationing in Motherhood

My parents are out of town (celebrating 28 years together), and I've been staying at their house, playing "mom." Tonight Julie, my three year old sister, walked up to me cradling a bottle of baby shampoo.

"Cookie, 'dis is Baby Sutton." I look down, distracted from the fifteenth checking of my e-mail in the past twenty minutes.

"Ohhh... that's Baby Sutton?" She nods, bouncing the baby on her non-existent hip.

"And Cookie, Baby Sutton not happy now. She need Cheerios."

"Will Cheerios make Baby Sutton happy?"

"Yes. She need 'em. She grumpy." (Hmmm... there are days when I could do with a handful of Cheerios...)

I obligingly got the cereal down from the pantry, and we both picked out a "baby" bowl that was suitable for Baby Sutton.

"Now, Mommy Julie," I said, "you need to be careful, and help Baby Sutton eat her Cheerios. Sometimes babies choke if they don't have help." Her eyes opened wide, and she nodded seriously.

"I be careful. Promise, Cookie."

For the remainder of that hour, Baby Sutton and Julie went everywhere together. Julie told her "be kind, have a happy heart, Baby!" and rocked her, introduced her to the various family members, and sang creative, yodeling lullabies that only she and Baby Sutton could understand.

As I watched her ministrations to a bottle of shampoo, treating it as tenderly as she would have any baby, I remembered something I heard one of the sponsors of the college class say this morning,

"I have the best job in the world- I'm a wife and mom."

Tonight, cuddling Julie on my lap, making yummy yogurt smoothies, and playing "pretend" with a shampoo bottle, I couldn't help but think: no matter what the world may tell me about "building my career" and "not letting your talents be 'wasted' at home," and no matter where others may tell me my worth lies (money, fame, etc.)- I think I could ask for no better job than to listen to yodeling lullabies and teaching colors one Crayola crayon at a time. Thank you, Julie and "Baby Sutton", for reminding me of that.

:)

Wordless, in need of Wisdom

Written words are my delight. If I am unable to verbalize something, or incapable of communicating what I truly mean, I sit down, and begin to write. I write when I'm happy, sad, nostalgic, contrite. I write when I learn, when I want to learn, and when I don't even know that I need to learn. I write to make people laugh. I write to make people think. I write for the joy of stringing together words such as "glinting gossamer" and "merciful justice," creating new ideas and new pictures, and new thoughts.

However, although it does not happen often, sometimes I am completely unable to write. I have no words, only emotions, and typing over and over again does nothing to coherently convey what I'm attempting to tell.

That's what's happening tonight.

I don't have the words, I don't have the wisdom, and I don't have the knowledge. I can't put a series of vocabulary words together to make sense of what I'm attempting to convey. But "every word of God is flawless." (Proverbs 30:5) and "If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him." (James 1:5)

Lord, tonight I lack wisdom. But you create flawless words, give me some of those... Because tonight Lord, I really need them.

Truth

I think there are days when following Philippians 4:8 is just a wee bit harder than it is on other days. Of all the attributes we are to imbue our thoughts with (true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, praiseworthy), I believe the one I struggle with the most is "true."

For example, from the time when I was a young child up until I left home, I would stand at the window, waving goodbye to my parents, convinced that they were never going to come home and that this would be the last time I would be able to tell them that I loved them. Clearly, they're still here, and I wasted many hours, fearfully believing something untrue.

Or there were the times when I didn't play hide-and-seek because I was convinced that as soon as I made myself vulnerable at any angle, then I would be attacked by the monster who had just taken up residence under our coffee table. (He only lived there during hid-and-seek.)

Of course, as I got older some of my fears seemed to become a little more tangible. (Although I still remember hiding from the Hound of the Baskervilles in eighth grade...) Fear of not graduating, fear of not getting a job, fear of failure, fear of never getting married, fear of getting married...

Rather than choosing to build my beliefs and my actions around things that were true, I spent my time hypothesizing an entire slew of possible errors, failures, and mishaps.

Today, the old army of fear is at it again. Amazing how I can face the same enemy in such an assortment of ways. My untrue thoughts today are focused on something I never thought I would fear. But here I am...

"Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.... And the God of peace will be with you." [a]

Merely stating, "oops, that's an untrue thought!" is not enough. I must actively search for truth to replace my lies.

But I am like an olive tree
flourishing in the house of God;
I trust in God's unfailing love
for ever and ever.

I will praise you forever for what you have done;
in your name I will hope, for your name is good.
I will praise you in the presence of your saints. [b]

I will trust.
I will praise.
I will hope.

"Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him." [d]

This is the truth.

************
[a] Philippians 4:8, 9b
[b] Psalm 52:8,9
[c] I John 4:8,9

My poor little brain is all tied up in knots and decision making... :)

“When you are a Bear of Very Little Brain, and you Think of Things, you find sometimes that a Thing which seemed very Thingish inside you is quite different when it gets out into the open and has other people looking at it.” (A.A. Milne, "Winnie The Pooh")

**The Manhattan Chronicles**

The man sitting across from me in the terminal is talking. Loudly. About a crisis. I’m like emotional tofu- I absorb the emotions of those around me, and his stress is slowly seeping into my psyche. I just put my iPod in my ears. Maybe it will leave… of course, the sequence of events that I just went through were stressful, so I didn’t need much more to make me want to snap.

This morning was lovely. I was drowsy, but I ambled my way down 6th Avenue to find Magnolia Bakery, my new favorite New York spot. Apparently it’s famous, I just happened to stumble across the name in my browsing for “Things to see in Manhattan.” But this little pocket of heaven on 6th and 49th would be enough to make even the grumpiest person smile on a summer morning. The interior looks as though it has not been touched since 1950, the décor is tiny tiles and dainty pastels- asif it were your grandmother’s kitchen freshly scrubbed with Clorox, for the entire place is spotlessly clean. I ordered a decidedly fat-filled mocha latte and a mini chocolate swirl cheesecake. They packaged both in clean white cardboard, and my dear little cheesecake was in a delightfully marked, dainty box. I fell in love.

Cradling my coffee in one hand and my newly purchased box of heaven in the other, I trotted back down 6th to Bryant Park where I wrote, prayed and nibbled. I believe I’m a Bryant Park junky. It’s so petite, so movie-esque and feels safer than Central Park. I believe, that should I live conveniently located in the city, it would become a tradition.

After my leisurely morning, I was in need of a nap. I have been sleeping about 3 to 5 hours a night, walking and running all day. I knew that with my flight schedule tonight I would need to drive until the wee hours of the morning in order to make it home. So I took a nap. I love napping. I wish I could nap every day…

When I woke up, I ventured out once again. I hate doing “touristy” things. I like to blend in and look like a native. But I’ve never been to the top of Empire State Building, and considering that I’ve been to NYC repeatedly, this is really inexcusable. Besides, I heard the view is incredible. I love incredible views. To make my venture to the top a little less touristy, I decided first to find a delectable frozen yogurt spot called “Pinkberry.” Let’s just say, smuggling creamy pomegranate frozen yogurt to the top of the highest building in New York, and eating it while looking at historic landmarks is amazing. Which is good because being herded like cattle on and off elevators, being surrounded by foreign men who have no concept of personal space, and being subject to grossly over-priced tickets is hardly enjoyable. The experience was good because a) the structural feat of this building is phenomenal, b) all the limestone is from Indiana (represent! Whoo!), and c) I can now say that I’ve done it.

I then packed up, said goodbye to my delightful friend Elisha who was good enough to house me, and sallied forth. I navigated the subways and the bus successfully. I was the only white female on the bus. The looks I got were enough to make anyone anxiously chuckle. I didn’t believe that segregation still existed until I visited those parts of NYC. I got lost at the terminal, which is quite large and kept running, trying to find my ticket counter almost missed my flight, but it was delayed, and then again, and then again. And am now currently waiting in the terminal with a random bunch of disgruntled business men. Once again, I appear to be the only white female…

I’m definitely going to need to acquire some caffeine in Chicago..

**After hours of delays, lost luggage, dashing through airports, and a debate with a Mormon on the final flight, I finally landed in Indianapolis around 1:10 a.m. It's now 3:10 a.m., and yes, I just got home. Exhausted... my Manhattan adventure is officially over.**

“You know that you are in love when the hardest thing to do is say good-bye"

**The Manhattan Chronicles**

Well, my dear reader, my Manhattan time has come to a close. As I write this, my bags sit beside me (still open, much squashing will be needed to close them), and I sip one more sip of Manhattan water while trying to find the best way to say goodbye to a city who never even knew I was here. While at the airport I shall no doubt hash out my last day's adventures, views personal space, and Pinkberry yogurt, but for now, a vague settling of the feelings inside of me must occur.

Over the past three days I have experienced fear, exhilaration, confidence, paranoia, doubt, joy, sadness, contentment, pleasure, loneliness, hesitation, and desire. It would be wonderful if this trip had solidified my purpose and cemented my future, but I feel that the exact opposite has taken place. Something about this place terrifies me, but in my terror, I find myself peeking through my fingers (as one does in a scary movie) hesitantly wanting to see what's about to happen.

I love this city. And I love the corn fields of Indiana- I'm going home!

I've grown a little in NYC, and regardless of what the future brings, I shall always hold a fondness in my heart for the Big Apple of the East.

Goodbye, my love, Manhattan.

**The Manhattan Chronicles**

Well, my fair reader, you were neglected shamefully last night. I had every intention of arriving at the apartment in dusky twilight, filled to the brim with creative and witty anecdotes, and, while I did arrive around dusk, I was hardly filled with witty narratives. I was exhausted. I had walked over one hundred blocks- actually spent the entire day walking- and I was not ready to sit down and expound. I was ready to crawl into bed.

However, sleeping in Manhattan always seems like a sacrilege, so I decided to rest a little before going back out. Alas, a violent thunderstorm allayed my plans. Umbrella-less and scared of wandering damp streets alone, I curled up with several movies and spent a blissful night wrapped in fictional characters' problems.

But yesterday was delightful.

I went to Bryant Park, Rockefeller Center, Saks, St. Patrick's Cathedral, browsed homes on Park Avenue, shopped on Fifth Avenue, and found the most amazing hummus and organic mint green iced tea.

I began my day quite confidently- I was standing at a street corner, when a little lady with a child pulling her arm out of her sockets, asked me in a harried way which direction Fifth Avenue was. I gave her incredibly lovely directions and earned a "thank you" and a confidence that I was becoming a New Yorker. (I know, I know, Fifth is easy to find when you're standing on Sixth, but please give me some credit.)

Bryant Park, where I nibbled on fresh fruit and iced coffee, trying in vain to keep the heat at bay, was filled with people reading at little tables under the trees. Across the lawn was an outdoor yoga class. If I hadn't been attired in a skirt, I might have joined them in their downward-facing dogs. I mentally noted that law enforcement officers in NYC seem particularly attractive, but then remembered that I'm scared a lot in NYC, and this could be the reason for their attraction...

At Saks, I met my new best friend "Javier." He was delightful. And incredibly flamboyant. We talked make-up and he gave me a make-over while we chatted it up about graduate school and different skin tones. He's going back to school in the fall- to be a teacher. Just to have a little Saks' bag hanging from my wrist, I bought some concealer and bid Javier "adieu".

The rest of the day was browsing, amazing hummus lunch in Central Park (complete with the world's best mint tea).


I decided that since I had never been to mass- I should go at St. Patrick's. The beautiful cathedral was awe-inspiring. But mass was not. More thoughts on that to follow. But as I sat there, flipping through the hymnal, I realized I didn't know any of the songs in there. Wracking my mind for a song they might sing that I would know, a sudden thought popped into my head, "I wonderful if the have 'A Mighty Fortress Is Our God...'" Then realization of what I had just thought made me stifle a snort of laughter.

Of COURSE they wouldn't have "A Mighty Fortress"! Martin Luther and the Catholic church HATED each other! Why would they be singing a song penned by one of their old arch-rivals? I resisted another urge to chuckle. What on earth was I thinking?

As I wandered the burgs of the socially elite, glancing in store windows and trying on impossibly expensive shoes, I was trying to stifle an overwhelming sense of loneliness. I don't have much recreational alone time. Granted, during school I'm alone a lot because that is my mode of studying, but when I do fun, random, Fifth Avenue type of activities, I'm usually surrounded by a bevy of family with a sprinkling of friends.

Every now and then the reality of what I would be doing, should I choose to come to NYC hits me at a different angle. I would be so lonely out here. If I'm plagued with loneliness in West Lafayette, (which I have been as of late) with my family and friends near-by, then how much more so would I be plagued in a mammoth city, all alone? I know, I know I would eventually make friends, but there would be quite a long while when those friendships would be just planted and new, timid shallow things. And that's always a hard time...

All well. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, won't we? I won't know if I got the externship until the first week of September. I'll let my worries take a snooze until then. Who knows, they may not even need to be awakened...

Okay, last day in the city! Going to visit a famous bakery and try to see the top of the world from the Empire State Building. Then I've been told I need to try some delicious frozen yogurt called "Pinkberry." Hello, Wednesday in Manhattan!

Apple Update!

Can't escape my need to communicate everything in written form.

This post is being penned in the Apple store on a Mac that apparently loves German. Currently it's telling me that every word in this sentence is misspelled. All well, gotta love free WiFi.

I was bummed I left my yoga pants in W. Laf, because I definitely could have joined in an outdoor yoga class at Bryant Park this morning...

Okay, now to Central Park and the Met, then I think, on my way back for dinner, I'm going to stop at St. Patrick's Cathedral for mass. I've never been to mass, and I think it's about time I went. Don't worry, I'm a fundamental evangelical to the very core of my soul.

It's so hot my make-up from Saks is melting!

P.S. I'm buying this MacBook Pro as soon as my current favorite, "Bob" dies. Don't tell Bob.

If I'm less chatty, don't take it personally...

**The Manhattan Chronicles**

Hello, all!

I am heading out for a brilliant day on the town. I will probably walk until I fall down from exhaustion.

I jotted down little notes in my "little black book" so I know exactly what's on the to-do list today! Unfortunately, I'm not like my gifted siblings, so I shall not return to you this evening with a crop of pictures perfectly capturing my day. But I do have my faithful pen and my tiny little book- so I'm sure you shall not escape the day's random observations.

Happy Tuesday!

I should probably buy a map...