Still I Will Thank You

It's 9:30 on a Friday night -- I'm sitting at the kitchen table of my parent's house, drinking my 4th cup of warmed up coffee and enjoying the silence. It's been well over a year since I officially moved out on my own and more than 5 since I left for college and yet there's this unmistakable familiarity about being "home." Every tick of the clock, every bang and clatter of the furnace, every blast of the train goes virtually unnoticed for when I walk through that front door, I am home.

It was here where my sister and I would stay up 'til all hours of the night planning our weddings to various members of New Kids on the Block. It was in front of this kitchen door where my mom would line all three of us up to take a picture on the first day of school. It was at this very table where I fell in love with Charles Dickens. It was here where I emptied an entire box of powdered laundry detergent onto myself and blamed it on dandruff. It was here where Kevin Hurta and I would play baseball in the street until our moms would call us in for dinner. It was here where I flushed my glasses down the toilet, forcing my dad to take off the entire thing to fish them out.

As I got older, I wanted to escape from here. It was here where I felt as though no one understood me. It was here where I would sit for hours on end on weekends because I was grounded....again. It was here where I would call my siblings every name in the book and ignore their tears. It was here where my mom and I had knock down, drag out fights and wouldn't speak to each other for days. It was here where I let my anger manifest in broken dishes, broken glass, and broken bones. It was here where my parents drew the line in the sand -- and I chose to cross it.

And yet, it was here where I turned when all else failed. It was here where I would return with my tail between my legs. It was here where I would finally feel safe from a world that had its way with me. It was here where I learned that my God will never fail me. It was at this very kitchen table where I realized that my mother loves me with an inexpressible, unconditional, and boundless love. It was here where I learned how to love. It was here where I decided to trust my faith rather than my feelings. It was here where I chose to align my life with His will. It was here where my parents welcomed their prodigal child home with open arms.

So to some this may be just a simple, run down (though ridiculously over-decorated) ranch on the South Side of Chicago. And it's true -- in its strictest definition this is just a house. But within these walls lay my life's story...a story whose last chapter is yet to be written.

I'll Have My Embarrassment To Go, Please

Most of my embarrassing moments occur when I least expect them: getting caught in the revolving door at Macy's and spilling my Starbucks on a complete stranger, breaking the elevator at the Shedd Aquarium, or ripping my pants in the middle of teaching a horseback riding lesson (all of which are true, sadly). I can usually handle these situations because I do not know they are coming -- however, today I welcomed my embarrassment with open arms.

This afternoon I stopped by my friend Faith's office (please see previous post) to pick her up for lunch. When I walked in, she immediately starting laughing and told me she had a surprise to show me. Turns out she had purchased a karaoke machine for our office Christmas party -- so of course I needed to try it out. Before long we were huddled in the back room singing Garth Brooks on the top of our lungs and let me tell you.....we were good. Right around the second chorus of "Wrapped up in You," we noticed the other human resources clerk was standing in the doorway horrified. Apparently she had tried to get our attention, but we were too busy belting out wicked harmonies and our best twangy "bow wows" to notice her. We quickly turned off the machine, composed ourselves as much as we could, and walked directly into the Director of Business Operations and a potential employee. Luckily the head of HR is used to our antics and just shook his head at us while we tried to make a semi-respectable exit. Olivet is so much more than just an Education with a Christian Purpose -- we're pretty darn fun.

(And in case you were wondering, Faith and I will be headlining The 2008 Miller Christmas Party. All are welcome -- bring a friend. Or a potential employee. Or your boss.)

One of "Those" People

Never in my life have I been one of those people who are hopelessly addicted to a television show -- until now. I hate to admit it, but I am truly, madly, deeply addicted to The Biggest Loser. I'm sure there are worse shows out there to be addicted to (Grey's Anatomy, Family Guy, All My Children, etc), but still -- blocking out a two hour window every Tuesday evening is a bit much. And it's not just that I refuse to be interrupted, but my dear friend and fellow addict Faith and I act as though we actually have an opinion on the outcome of the show. We scream at the players, throw things at the TV, make sarcastic comments towards the trainers, flail about the living room in angst over a poor voting choice, and so on. To make matters worse -- and I can't believe I'm admitting this publicly -- we eat ridiculously unhealthy food and comment on how disgustingly obese the players are. We've even gone to such lengths as commenting on the eliminated players blogs and creating the Heba-Hater's Club here at work. Shameful, I know.

The saddest part of it all is that I'm completely unwilling to stop! I've thought of dozens of other activities I could do within that two hour time frame -- like finishing (er, starting) my Christmas shopping or cleaning out my garage -- yet nothing seems to fulfill my Tuesday nights like a vicarious workout session with Bob & Jillian. So until the season finale, my couch will continue to take a beating, Little Caesar's will continue to receive our weekly business, and my blood pressure will continue its roller coaster ride. Go ahead and judge me -- I'm too busy commenting on Coleen's blog to even notice...

Matzeltov, My Friends

Needless to say, in the past 5 1/2 years of being a part of the Olivet community I have attended my fair share of bridal showers. I have set up dozens of tables, created countless centerpieces, prepared hundreds of finger sandwiches, and played upteen rounds of Bridal Bingo, but nothing could have prepared me for my own. We decided to host a co-ed "His and Her" wedding shower instead of the typical "women only" so that Billy could have some friends, too (and to keep the estrogen levels at bay). So while the women gathered to watch us open presents, the men entertained themselves with cornhole and the Bears game. One of my favorite moments of the day was when my Aunt Jane unveiled the cake,

After doubling over in laughter, and explaining to Billy what it said, I knew at that very moment that Billy and I were meant for each other. My family had gone to great lengths to help Billy feel accepted, loved, and part of our own. We may be a crazy family, but we love each other and have supported each other through Hell and back. When my parents gathered around us and prayed for our future, I couldn't help but cry in joy for what God has done in our lives. This love is real -- and we are going to make it.

Disturbia

Much has happened in the month or so since my last post -- our economy continues to spiral, we've elected a new President (God bless him!), my fiance quit his job and started a new one, and due to rising gas prices, I've decided to see how long I can survive winter without heat. But one thing that I've seen time and again on the news, in newspapers, on the internet, and particularly on Facebook, is the protesting of Proposition 8 in California. I have remained silent on the issue for a while in fear of being labeled a hypocrite. As an American citizen, not just as an evangelical Christian, I cannot stay silent anymore. A friend of mine gave me a link to a Keith Olbermann video clip in which he states,



"What is this, to you? Nobody is asking you to embrace their expression of love. But don't you, as human beings, have to embrace... that love? The world is barren enough."

(view the complete article here: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/27650743)



Maybe this world would be a better place if people ignorantly "embraced" each other's choices of love -- if by better, you mean completely tolerant and utterly amoral. But why stop at gay marriage? If nobody is asking me to embrace their expression of love, then why do we fight so hard to prosecute pedophiles? Why is incest considered a heinous crime? Who's to say that one cannot find true love in their schnauzer? Olbermann continues to argue that interracial marriage was once illegal. True. However, this was still between one man and one woman-- race did not determine that very simple fact.



Please understand that my heart is extremely sensitive and open to the gay community -- more so than many of my fellow pupils. I'm not out to criticize or judge anyone; but I do believe that America desperately needs to maintain some sort of standard. This is so much more than just James Dobson pointing his finger and refusing to "accept" homosexual rights. If gay marriage is legalized now, then who is to say NAMBLA isn't next? Just think about the long term consequences, that's all I ask.