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Monday, December 15, 2008

What am I Doing?

Chris and I had a very serious discussion the other day about our purpose in life. No, I still haven't figured it out and neither has he. I asked him if he felt like he was doing what he was made for. For some reason we both struggle with the notion that we need to be missionaries in a foreign country in order to truly live up to our purpose. I wonder if we would still feel the same unrealized potential if we actually were missionaries in a foreign land? Probably.

It is somehow humbling to know that I probably won't be converting heathen tribes any time soon...that my purpose is smaller than that. Wouldn't it be fun to have a big purpose? Where thousands of lives are touched because of you? Wouldn't it be fun to be so passionate about something that there was no doubt in your mind that that particular need is why you were created? Sure, I feel passion about certain causes, hurting babies and animals come to mind, but I'm not rescuing them or caring for them so much that anyone would ever notice. And maybe that is the crux of the matter. I want a calling that is note-worthy. One where people tell me that I am doing great things for the world and what did the world ever do before I came along? I don't imagine I'm alone in this. It's kind of a pride-deflater to realize that probably won't ever be me.

But it is easy to look around at those I love and tell how their lives have changed mine. Feeding the homeless, or adopting orphans, or digging wells for clean drinking water may seem infinitely more important than calling a friend to see how they are doing, or offering to help when it's not convenient, or telling someone you love them, but maybe those things are undervalued. I know what it means to me when someone willingly carves out some time to just be with me, or when my husband makes a meal because I don't want to cook, or when someone asks me how I'm feeling and they truly care about the response. I'm not hungry or suffering or hurting right now, and so I might not seem like a likely candidate to receive someone's care...in fact, I can think of many people who are more deserving and more needy than I. But, I'm grateful for all those around me who might feel like their purpose is "small" but who are making a big difference in my life by teaching me what it's like to give.

Monday, December 8, 2008

6.75 Months...


This is the newest and latest picture of my belly. It feels like I've been pregnant forever, and I still have 3 months to go! Life has been super busy lately so I've been neglecting the blog. Chris told me to post something controversial, but I lack the energy. Maybe I can drum some up in time for everyone to be angry at me for Christmas : )



Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Mmm, Cranberry Sauce

I love cranberry sauce. Especially the kind straight out of the can. It kind of goes against the high maintanance food persona that I try to exhibit, but I don't care. When around family you should always be yourself.

My Thanksgiving was quite wonderful this year. It was very girly. That's not a slam on being around men, per se, but rather than sitting around watching t.v. or rolling around on the floor punch drunk from too much turkey (this never happens to me as I usually don't even eat the turkey--it's all the sides that I love--but I've seen this behavior from people that I really respect and it kind of worries me...who would even want to fill up on white meat when there are dinner rolls and mashed potatoes?).

Anyway, Chris suggested that I ride with my parents to Amarillo instead of waiting until Wednesday night to go with him that way I could spend some time with my grandma since we weren't staying with her for the holiday. It sounds very sacrificial of him, but I assure you, his motives were impure. At the best of times I am not a good car rider. I HATE sitting still for very long. And now I have back pain and an ungodly urge to use the lady's room frequently, which, incidentally, can never compete with my dear mother's pressing desire to check out every rest stop from here til we reach our destination. So, my dear, sweet husband unloaded his wife and two dogs onto her doting parents who were already traveling with their cat who likes to puke if he's unwrapped from his traveling towel. No one ever accused Chris of being a dummy. We were all well-behaved, however, even Sydney the puking cat. At least he has the decency to make this weird, gurgling noise before he's going to actually unload. I think it's considerate of him. My dogs were angels, I was an angel, we were all undervalued and under appreciated, but I think we made a good impression in the end.



One of the reasons that I decided to take Chris up on his offer to leave before him was because my great aunt's son's wife (ha!) offered to give us all pedicures. What woman would turn down a free pedi? What sane woman that is? My unattended toes became cute little Christmas stockings in a mere 5 hours. Yep, you read that right. Dear Lou, the great aunt son's wife, tended to five of us by herself. You know how I mentioned that I have a problem sitting still for that long? It doesn't change in or out of the car.

Thanksgiving day was slightly busy decorating deviled eggs with my father-in-law, Allen, kicking Sophie out of the kitchen ten times, and waiting impatiently to eat. It seems like I'm perpetually waiting impatiently to eat. We had a wonderful, small Thanksgiving that I thoroughly enjoyed with just Chris's brothers, his parents, and their respective spouse/girlfriend. I like small groups much more than big ones.

On Friday I decided to leave Pampa town and head back to Amarillo where there was more girl time to be had. Chris was nicely settled in a book, and since I'd offered to take the dogs with me, he was once again fine to let me be. That night my aunt, who had worked a full day at her job, got suckered in to doing everyone's hair. Including mine. Apparently my hair was sub-par since my mom told me to let Brenda cut it. So, I did. I wasn't ready to chop it off, but I told Brenda if she would wait 5 minutes and let me come to terms with it, I'd be OK. And I was. So she did.

And so, in the spirit of the holiday, I would just like to say how thankful I am for the women of my family. For my grandma who presented me with a bag of vintage baby clothes and blankets because she knows how much I love vintage, for my great aunt who gave up her bed so that I wouldn't have to sleep on the couch, for my mom who encouraged me to chop my hair off and is always fun to have around, for my aunt who was up til midnight doing all our hair, my cousins who are giggly and fun, and my mother-in-law, who made me green-bean casserole and bought me canned cranberry sauce because those are two of my favorites. I think they are all pretty special.