Real Anticipation

Get excited, because my next post will be about this…

and this…

and these…

:)

Real Sleeping Habits

I am ashamed to say that I turned 8 years old when I graduated. I say this because the next daily routine that I’m attacking with vigor is my bedtime.

I realized I had a problem when I woke up yesterday to get to a 10am church service, and it felt like the break of dawn. Granted, my phone never actually made the automatic switch to “fall back” for Daylight Savings Time (which made for a really awkward visit to a new church in the area!), but the fact of the matter is that I struggled to keep my eyes open all day. I nodded off during what was actually a pretty stellar comeback by the Vikings, and then again in the shower this morning, after an attempt to wake up at a reasonable hour.

I am suffering from sleeping-in syndrome. It’s a circle of hibernation: I have nothing to do, therefore I stay up later and sleep in, therefore I have nothing to do, therefore I stay up later and sleep in… My new REM cycle has turned me into a zombie-like, coffee-craving person up until the hour of noon. Just about anything in the AM is painful. Have I turned into a vampire?!?! Hmmm… No, the image that comes to mind is actually Jack Black in Orange County, interrupting daytime guests in his underwear:

Yikes! There’s an image of Adulthood that I’d like to not turn into!

So once again, I say enough is enough! I am mommy-ing myself into shape. Lights out & computer away at midnight, even if everything in me wants to whine “but I’m not tiiiiirrrrreeeeddddd!” Wakey-wakey at 9:30, even if everything in me wants to succumb to my comforter cocoon. Real Sleeping Habits.

Oh good lord. This has never been my strong suit, even in college when I did have a life. Maybe I’ll print out a picture of Jack Black and put it on my wall for inspiration. Maybe with “DON’T BE THIS GUY” in big red sharpie letters across the top and vampire fangs, to remind me to stay away from the nocturnal.

I’ll say this for myself, though: Today I woke up at 9am, albeit groggily and grumpily, and put Real Pants on. 

By the way... Would you rather forget Daylight Savings while visiting a church for the first time in the fall or in the spring? Better to be an hour late or an hour early to church??

Real Pants

Yesterday, I promised that I would wear pants, get a life, and be an adult. Today, I am beginning that mission.

A “Real Adult” would have a concrete plan for becoming one (does that sentence make sense?!?!?!), so I’m adding modifications to my daily routine.

I’m going to start simple: the sweatpants. I need to start getting dressed every day, even if I don’t have any particular reason to. And – wow – when I write it out loud like that, it sounds WAY lamer than I thought it was! Ugh. But in my defense, I am a bum-around-the-houser, which means that a well-spent Saturday is one where I get to be a hot grungy mess. Which is fine every once in awhile, but now that I have an endless array of “Saturdays” before me, enough is enough. I mean, really. If I hadn’t gone to church today, I don’t think that I would know that it’s Sunday.

And I’m realizing that these sweatpants have become a wardrobe siren. Really, they are too comfortable to not be enticingly lazy. They’re over eight years old, and everything about them is perfect, sweatpants-wise. They’re so wonderful that I hate having to change out of them, and they’re so worn-in that I hate to wear them outside. The problem is, this means that I tend to not leave the house. I realize how insane this sounds, but my sweatpants have become a vice. Like the gluttony of loungewear.

So I say, get behind me, sweatpants! Today, and every day hereafter, I am wearing a reasonable pair of jeans/shorts and/or a skirt/dress.

Ok, so today I technically wore leggings. But I wore them to church, and that’s an adult-like activity, so it counts.

More life-changes to come. This is happening, this adulthood.

Project: Adulthood

I need to get a life.

No, I really do. I’m not just saying this because I’m being another emo blogger. I’m saying this because I literally went outside today for the first time since this weekend… To the library and the fabric store… With my mother. And I love my mother, but I need to get a life.

My parents keep commenting on how incredulous it is that I can coop myself up so much. The internet helps, admittedly. I can stay connected with the world from my living room, wearing my sweatpants. I can entertain myself with this blog and this one and this one, feeling vicariously productive from my living room, still wearing my sweatpants. Having all 7 Harry Potter books immediately on-hand helps me coop-up, too. So does having every episode of Star Trek ever. There are distractions galore in this household, partially thanks to my father. Who I love. But I need to get a life.

The reality is, I graduated from college, almost got a job, but didn’t. And I have no idea what to do next. I am faced, currently, with an entirely blank slate to fill with “life.” These are the formative years. The years where I’m going to grow as an individual. The building blocks for a career that I hope to someday have. (Ack! Daunting!) And I am determined to not spend them all in my living room… Let me rephrase that, actually: in my parent’s living room, in my sweatpants.

So, I’m going to get a life. And I’m going to blog about it. Dare I say it, this will require REAL pants! Hopefully even the professional, non-denim kind, as that is generally a mark of having a real, adult life.

You, nameless reader, will be my accountability: I will wear pants! I will get a life! I will be an adult!

The God who sees me

There is a story in the Bible that I had a hard time understanding at first, and I’m going to tell it to you.

Everyone has heard of Abraham and Sarah, who were the original holders of God’s covenant.

You know – more descendants than stars in the sky, etc. etc. But not many people remember Hagar. Hagar was Abraham and Sarah’s maidservant. Her story starts when Sarah misjudges God’s covenant and she has Abraham sleep with Hagar. My guess is that Hagar didn’t have much say in the matter, because she gets pretty furious with Sarah when she finds out that she’s pregnant. Sarah retaliates, and Hagar runs away into the desert.

It’s already something of a soap opera, but it gets especially interesting when God interferes. He sends an angel (in some circles thought to be Christ) to meet Hagar in the desert. This angel tells her to go back, to name her baby Ishmael (i.e. “God heard my misery”) and then prophesies that Ishmael will be a “donkey of a man” and will forever be at odds with his brothers. Then Hagar says, “You are the God who sees me. I have now seen the One who sees me,” and goes back to Abraham and Sarah.

A couple of years later, Isaac is born. He and Ishmael don’t get along, and Sarah wants to kick Hagar out again. God assures Abraham that He’ll take care of Hagar, so he sends her into the desert. Once exiled, Hagar becomes so desperate that she hides Ishmael in a bush and walks away, sobbing. She doesn’t want to see her bastard son die of thirst. She is truly alone. Then God talks to her from heaven, tells her that she shouldn’t be afraid, that he heard her son crying, and that Ishmael will be ok. The story ends with God providing her with a well of water, and being “with the boy as he grew up.”

The first time I read this story, I did not get it. At. All. I mean, couldn’t God have prevented all that conflict??? Why does He create Ishmael, when it’s clearly a point of contention with everybody? Why does He let Sarah drive Hagar out into the desert – not once, but twice? Why does He let such bad things happen to Hagar? And why does He tell Hagar that her son will be ugly and disliked? Ruuude!

If I were Hagar, I would be pretty bitter towards God, wouldn’t you? It seems like she gets majorly slighted. Sarah has a husband, wealth, and the unwavering covenant of God. Isaac’s son is Jacob, who God literally nicknames “Israel.” Ring a bell? Hagar… Well, Hagar has a donkey for a son.

But Hagar worships God. And she names him – the first person in the Bible to so, a servant and a woman, no less. Why?

This story has everything to do with what God does with bad circumstances and with people who are outcast and aimless. The story of “sin and redemption” is pretty common, so it’s not difficult to understand why God blesses Abraham and Sarah regardless of their pride. God forgives them. Done. But Hagar didn’t really do anything wrong. She was dealt a bad hand. What does God do about that?

God doesn’t make Hagar’s situation all that much better, nor does He ever really promise to. He personally sends an angel to basically tell her, “Hey. You have a baby. You both are not very well liked and that’s probably not going to change, but you’ll live. And I’m here, and I’m God, so everything is ok.” He knows that He is better than Hagar and Ishmael’s physical and emotional needs. And He’s right. And Hagar gets it. She understands that meeting God face-to-face and hearing His voice come down from heaven is worth more than the thousands of descendents that He promises. Sarah only interacts with God from the inside of a tent, but Hagar sees and is seen by God. Lucky lady.

I mean, can you say that you’ve seen an angel of God? I think that if my kid died and I looked God’s angel in the face, that I would still worship Him in spite of everything. Which brings me to my point – the presence of God is more significant that the presence of anything else in life.

It’s a gritty reality. Sometimes life deals you a bad hand. Like an off-suit 2 and 7. Like a “this couldn’t possibly be any worse” hand. Or even a “I’m going to have to watch my baby die. Alone.” hand. (I’m not a mother, but I’m pretty sure it doesn’t get worse than that.) Hagar shows us what matters most: Christ. She shows us where hope is: Christ. She shows us who will give us directions, if directions need to be given: Christ. She shows us who will provide water when we are most thirsty: Christ.

God can let bad things happen, because he knows how good He is. That’s the key to understanding the gospel: He’s way more good than the bad is bad. It’s the only explanation that doesn’t leave us desperate.

So, I’ll admit: not getting to go to South Africa this year is a pretty bad hand. And unlike Hagar, it wasn’t the result of someone else’s sin. But God’s good. He gives me the water I need, and He sees me.

So I guess I’m a lucky lady, too.

Pray for:

-God’s presence & direction

-Some well water, so to speak