Expecting the Unexpected

Currently setting the mood with: Elizabethtown Soundtrack

The more I live, the more adventure I find. I am learning to be ok with not knowing where my next step will lead me. Or why it's there?

"My bags are packed" I guess you could say and "I am leaving on a jet plane" very soon. A day. I have commited a summer to the high mountains of Colorado where I will bask in the glory of God's creation. I will meet new people and experience a time of simple living. Of serving. Of purely loving. And I am excited, particularly because I don't know what's going to happen. i am ready to learn what God has to teach me.

I write this blog simply to take a deep breath....

*BREATH*

And proclaim that I am ready for my next......

Some wild rice

It's 9:00 p.m. and I am thinking about going to bed. So I thought I would take this rare occasion to capture the current state of mind of the Lizinator (thanks Becca). Because considering it's 9:00 p.m. on a nice summer night, there has to be something weird going on inside of me. I will investigate this with you.

Today I felt like a mom. I wanted exercise + to be outside = let's go for a walk. By myself. This part is fine. But at a glance I think my new haircut can look like a mom in her thirties...the short flippy-ish hair. And I didn't have an iPod to look like I was on a serious venture for burnt calories. I just went on a casual spin. But I don't like my neighborhood. Do you know how many teenagers drove by me? It reminded me of high school and I suddenly realized that I was pissed, not enjoying my rejuvenating movement. I thought, "Oh my goodness, these kids I graduated with are going to think I am an overweight drop-out walking around the neighborhood while they speed off with their evening plans." While on my walk, I also reminded myself of the fact that I do not want to be old. Or overweight. Neither one of those look good on women. But by the mothers I saw on my walk, it's the way things fall into place? Figuratively speaking of course.

I then came home and sat on the couch with my parents. They read the paper. I read a book. Please stop being jealous of my rambunctious party life.

So my new favorite food is the sweet potato.

I read 90 pages in a book today. Tim Keel's Intuitive Leadership. I never read books. But I think the book caught me in a contemplative, receptive, studious mindset. Lucky thing.

God's been really good to me lately. I had the chance of being diagnosed with sickness, but God spared me. I am taking this second chance at health to conquer and rock at it. And in the midst of some crappy circumstances, I have been in tune with God more clearly than ever before. I guess you could say I am pretty sold out on the guy.

Here's to an early night.

Hidden Veins.

My thoughts right now are as follows:

The doctor is putting me on steroids. How should I react to this? I just read a book where the guy taking it for the same reasons had hallucinations.....next time you see me I might look like Hulk Hogan.

Hospitals are awkward. There's nothing pleasant about a gown, moaning patients in the room next to yours, having hidden veins so the nurse has to poke you 45 times, hospital food, nurses that don't speak English, having to drink foreign liquids so that your intestines can glow for the x-ray. Everyone in the Emergency room suffers from "pitty eye syndrome." I have made this diagnosis. Everyone that comes in is convinced they are dying. They come in with an exaggerated limp or groan. They want to convince the nurse at the front desk that they are the one that needs the most urgent care. The patients all sit there, moping in their problems, staring at each other, figuring out what everyone else is there for, giving them the "pity eye," that he or she is far more in danger than the other. And the verdict is announced when the nurse comes to collect a patient. Since the ER goes in order of emergency, the boy with the gushing blood running from his forehead gets to go before the girl with the soar throat. Who knew.

The poor nurses that tried to insert my IV must have hated me. Because I have the worst IV veins ever. I am convinced that upon arrival at the hospital, they get scared and bury themselves as far away from my skin as possible. And they shrink to the size of thread so that they have to bring in 4 different people to try to do it. In the end, I get a few blown out veins and a bruise.

I have spent enough time in the hospital this weekend to make the funniest observations. I should write a book.

In the midst of a very frustrating situation, I am learning to take joy. I know that the Lord has His hand upon me and will continue to provide all my needs according to His riches and glory.

He has never broken his promises. And I know He won't this time.