If you know me, you know that I suffer from what I like to call, “Annoying clean office phobia.”

That is, I do not function well in messy environments. Ironically enough, I’m not all that tidy of a person, so this especially paradoxical. See those piles on the corner? Yeah, trying to ignore that. See that stuff on the space in front of me? Yeah, that’s driving me crazy. Oh, and if you look closely, you’ll even see a black leather jacket laying on the floor next to my bookshelf. Embarrassing, right? Calendars falling off the wall… coffee mug from Wednesday… it’s getting ugly, people. There are even remains from Halloween in my office–that blue dress draped over my black chair–I was going to wear that for our GAG Night and decided not to, in which case it circulated the office and has now landed back in mine, and I have not put it back in the Costume closet yet. It has come to this.

This morning, however, I am living in my mess. My office has imploded on itself. If you know me at all, you know that while many other rooms of my life may be disasters, my office–hardly ever. Clean, tidy, and put together. It’s a façade, really. I know it. Because this–this is how I really feel this morning. Too excited about this weekend to care about cleaning my desk. Too many people to talk to, events to plan, and things to do. Too enthralled with the snow falling out my window and wondering if we are going to make it up to Michigan alright to sort through that pile of endless paper.

Today I choose mess. And I am okay with it.

2.Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I did. I failed. Hah! My resolution was to run the mini-marathon, but that didn’t work out. HOWEVER, I did join the YMCA and am working out routinely, so although I didn’t complete my resolution, I got creative.

This year, my goal is to have balance in my financial life. I want balance everywhere (who doesn’t?), but financially, we are making some adjustments. We want to give more. Save more. Spend less.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Yes, yes. I am in a season of babies & weddings, and I love every minute of it.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
Yes. Kyle’s grandfather passed away this fall. One of my former students, Tessa, died this past Spring in a car accident.

5. What countries did you visit?
Zilch. As in none.

6. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?
Time and space.

7. What dates from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
March 1-First day of Nick’s Sabbatical
March 5-Tessa died
April 30-First GO LOVE INDY. Loved watching our community that day. Rumor has it that I drove around from site to site with some tears.
September 24-Officiated Emily & Brince’s wedding in Eatonton, Georgia
October 23-Celebrated my mom’s 60th birthday in Chicago.
November 12-Stood beside my friend, Katelyn, on her wedding day
December 7-Kyle’s grandfather passed

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
There are lots of little things. I grew a lot this year–in personal maturity, my job, as a wife, sister, daughter, and friend. I just stinkin’ grew!

9. What was your biggest failure?
Taking out anger and frustration from work on my husband. I truly regret that.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Well, yes.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
Definitely my iPhone. Life changer!

12. Where did most of your money go?
Bills, student loans, bills, student loans, bills… welcome to adulthood!

13. What did you get really excited about?
Durham Family Vacation in Florida, haven’t seen most of them since our wedding!

14. What song will always remind you of 2011?
Sigh No More by Mumford & Sons, I’ve Got This Friend by The Civil Wars

15. Compared to this time last year, are you:
– happier or sadder? Happier.
– thinner or fatter? Same. 
– richer or poorer? Same.

16. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Time and energy in the Word.

17. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Checking email and being on the internet.

18. How did you spend Christmas?
Drove all over the place visiting family, led worship at Chapel Rock, and then drove all over the place again. :) Hoping for a more relaxing year in 2012.

19. What was your favorite TV program?
Mad Men, Parenthood, Parks & Recreation

20. What were your favorite books of the year?
Cold Tangerines (Shauna Niequist), Blue Parakeet (Scot McKnight), Making a Mess and Meeting God (Mandy Smith), Radical (David Platt)

21. What was your favorite music from this year?
Mumford & Sons, Adele, The Civil Wars, Over the Rhine, Brooke Fraser

22. What were your favorite films of the year?
The Help

23. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I turned 24, and I had a relaxing day with my husband and then went over to a friend’s house for dinner. Low key and perfect.

24. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Deciding early on that I cannot control other people’s choices and decisions. That would’ve saved me a lot of anxiety and stress.

25. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?
Dressy/Casual/WannabeHipster

26. What kept you sane?
Laughing with my husband. Cooking. Funfetti Vacation with my closest friends.

27. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011.
People are capable of tremendous amounts of good, and tremendous amounts of evil. We desperately need a Savior. Also, chocolate really does help. :)

(mumford & sons, sigh no more)

When we first moved into this house (over a year ago), if there was one room I was dying to change, it was our guest room. Lime green walls, very obscure stencils across the top. . . yes, you are getting a mental image by now. Instead of my grand plans to make it into the most feminine room in our home, it became a storage dump. And slowly (or not so slowly), junk piled up… and pretty soon it became sheer embarrassment. So yesterday, my darling mother came by with one goal: clean out what I don’t want, organize what I do, pick out and buy paint, and for goodness sake… get those hideous stencils off the wall! We accomplished EVERY SINGLE THING. That’s just how Sandy works.

Here are some photos for your (but mostly my) enjoyment.

Is she not the cutest mom you’ve ever seen? And if you look closely in that beautifully organized closet, you may notice there’s a letter-jacket (or two) hanging. And maybe a cheerleading uniform. Hey people, I got rid of 6 very large trashbags of personal belongings… I just couldn’t do it. I know. I know. I know.

So, there you have it, my Christmas gift from Momma: quality time, laughing (mostly at my hoarding abilities), and a super clean space. Still lime green walls, but hey, I think we did pretty good for one day.

Well, let me tell you, it’s probably not a pretty sight. 

Last night while attempting to dance like a Latin Diva bustin’ a move at Zumba, I glanced in the mirror only to realize the image in my head looked nothing like that which appeared before my eyes. Instead, what appeared before me was a pale-skinned, sweaty-haired disaster who clearly thought she looked way sexier than reality has sadly proven.

This is, of course, not the first time I’ve felt unsatisfied with reality. It happens every morning as I stare into the mirror and tug on my stomach, arms, cheeks, eyelids, and wish for something different. Or when I stare into a closet full of clothes and say, “I have nothing to wear.” Never done that? Well, either your identity in Christ is so rock-solid that you never feel the weight of insecurity, or you’re lying. Because as far as I can tell, every woman I know has a body part she’d freely trade.

I remember listening to a speaker in college say that nothing drives us to more bad decisions than insecurity. Insecurity drives us to jealousy, overeating, pride, drunkenness, terrible relationships with men, vanity, the list goes on. Insecurity, is–yes, certainly another form of evil. But… insecurity can actually be a gift. 

What’s that? Insecurity? A gift? Yep. A gift.

What happens when we  feel insecure? We push ourselves to find validation making idiotic choices, saying jealous things, spending money we don’t have on things we don’t need, find our worth in what we can achieve and know, and again… the list goes on. But what insecurity also does is push us to find credibility in things that actually matter. Whether or not we allow this to happen is not the point. Insecurity is a gift… in that it drives us to our real source of credibility: Christ. We are nothing without our Creator.

I am–quite slowly–learning to put my moments of panic-stricken insecurity into the hands that created me, to say over me, “You are more than this.” When we choose anxiety, we forget who we are. We forget where security comes from. And not just in external things, but internal, as well. We forget that our personalities are really just a reflection of God, that our circumstances are temporary in light of who He is, and we all bear the image of Christ in some way because He lives inside of us.

And so, today, I am thankful for insecurity. Insecurity that drives me to an identity in Christ, that pushes me to seek and trust Him deeply. Thank you, insecurity. . . you are an unwelcome, but motivating, gift.

Last night, up lurking on Facebook, I intentionally stalked stumbled on an acquaintance from high school that recently hiked Mount Killimanjaro. Yes, you read that right. Girl hiked highest mountain in Africa. Immediately my interest peaked, as I 1) Hardly remember this person and 2) Am not sure how we became Facebook friends. Either way, she hiked Mount Killimanjaro. I lurked through hundreds of photos of tents, hiking poles, making food over a campfire, sites you only see in movies and then looked over at my bulldog snoring on my bed. Hardly close to hiking 19,000 feet above sea level.

I post photos of Christmas trees, driveways, my husband, food creations from our  little kitchen, friends having coffee, concerts that no one else cares about, birthdays, holidays with family, and weddings of beautiful friends. This is how my morning went today: I woke up, chowed down on Special K, made coffee, watched the previous night’s episode of Parenthood because I didn’t want to stay up until 11pm, fed and let my dog outside, dolled myself up only to slip a hat over my frizzed out hair, and drove two miles to work. Pretty thrilling, right?

But last night around 9pm, as I was standing near the window and looking out at our backyard covered in snow, my husband came over, wrapped his pale arms around my waist and simply said, “I love my life with you.” And we slow danced to silence. Corny? Yes. Do I care? No.

On the outside looking in, my life looks pretty simple. And it is. If someone wanted to make a movie about my life, there’s a strong chance that many would fall asleep. But that’s because it’s only boring to the outsider. On the inside, it’s pretty extraordinary and beautiful.

It’s taken me a while to realize this, but life doesn’t have to look extraordinary and unique to be so. And I’m not bashing, by the way, hiking Killimanjaro. That’s freaking incredible. But my guess is in between the photos, there was a lot of ordinary wrapped up in that hike. Lots of campfires, processed camping food, bug spray, tent making, blister-repairing, laughter, tears, awkward relational moments, forgiveness, loneliness, sore muscles, and maybe even a little regret. Ordinary.

I believe God is visible and present in the crazy, Mount-Killiminjaro-moments. I also believe He is undeniably present in the small, ordinary moments. The bowls of cereal, arguments with our spouse, mortgage payments, making snowmen with children, bad recipes, raking leaves, tithing, tutoring a struggling child at a nearby elementary.

All of us are full of ordinary. But that’s what makes life so beautiful. So today I am thankful. Thankful for grocery bills, weekly menus, friendships that never change, and ordinary moments that are absolutely Divine.

A few years ago in New Testament Seminar, I attempted to tackle the unfortunate misunderstanding of feminism, specifically within the Church. This woman, Dianna Anderson, nails it. She explains how stereotypes mischaracterize feminism as a matriarchal movement instead of an EQUALITY-based one. This is something I have struggled with for a while but cannot figure out how to eloquently state it in an environment that so readily pushes back to the fem-word itself. Thanks, Dianna! We’re actually not crazy!

———————————-

Article taken from Rachel Held Evan’s blog, which you can find at http://www.rachelheldevans.com
Written by Dianna Anderson

It was bound to happen at some point or another. Somewhere deep in the internet’s recesses, practically back into Gollum’s cave, I found her: the one person I could ever say actually fits the definition of what most people think feminists are. This was a woman who truly believed, deep down, that men are evil, disgusting pigs, and you’re not a true feminist if you’re not a lesbian.

I encountered this blogger over a year ago when a friend sent me a piece she wrote condemning Joss Whedon’s Firefly for being anti-feminist and anti-woman (say it with me: “WHAT?”). The comments section was ablaze, and the piece was some of the worst literary criticism I had ever read (and I have an MA in English). I had to close the window when she suggested that, because of the heterosexual power structure and the patriarchy, it is literally impossible for a man and a woman to have sex without it constituting rape (don’t ask…I’m not even sure I understand).

I tell you all this to say: feminists who hate men with a fiery passion do, in fact, exist. But, they exist in such a way that you wonder how they function in real life – they might just be a horse with a cone taped to their head instead of an actual unicorn. If you have encountered one of these women in your life, then I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the trial your sanity had to undertake in order to have a conversation with that person and I’m doubly sorry if you happen to be a man having that conversation.

But here’s the thing: 99.9% of the feminists you encounter? Not man-haters. Indeed, for those of us who are heterosexual, we could even be called man-lovers. Many of us have married men or are in  relationships with men or have crushes on men. Many of us look upon Ryan Gosling and George Clooney with great affection.

It is sad to me that I even need to make this disclaimer, but the stereotype of feminist as “man-hater” is so engrained in the populace and the church that reality is frequently ignored in favor of dismissing an argument. I’ve been accused of being a “man hater” while sitting next to my then boyfriend. Many women in my life have warned me that identifying as a feminist will “turn men off” from me and “don’t you want to get married someday?” I’ve had men dismiss the possibility of friendship (not relationship, mind you,friendship) outright when I explain that my blog is about feminism and the church (often in no fewer words than that). The silencing and dismissal that comes along with the stereotype of man-hater is annoying at best and hurtful at worst.

All of this was brought to mind when Rachel blogged her “13 reasons I’m a lousy feminist” the other day. Having being on the receiving end of the “man-hater” comment more times than I can count, seeing it listed as number one – in the form of “I like white males so much I married one”– rubbed me the wrong way. Being called a man-hater is often unfairly used as a way to silence women and dismiss their arguments outright, which is troubling, especially when it happens in the midst of a theological discussion. I’m grateful Rachel has given me the opportunity here, in her space, to address the “man-hater” issue.

Not only does the stereotype mischaracterize feminism as a matriarchal movement instead of an equality based one – you’d be amazed at all the ways in which women are still not equal (we still make 77 cents to every man’s dollar for the same work. Oh, yeah, and it is 2011) – but the stereotype erases the ways in which men and women have worked together for the cause of feminism.

Not a lot of people know this, so forgive me if I delve into a bit of a history lesson here: the US women’s suffrage movement wasn’t entirely women. Indeed, the suffrage movement actually extended out of a network of church-based Moral Reform Societies that were led by men, but composed mainly of white, middle class women. The concept of feminism as an official movement (first wave feminism in the late 1800s) was borne out of the concept of solidarity and sisterhood. The women of the Moral Reform Societies rejected the idea of woman as property and wanted to find ways to help women of ill repute – yes, the prostitutes. In one remarkably progressive instance, the New York Moral Reform Society (NYMRS) published an article in their newsletter – the Advocate of Moral Reform – calling out the double standard between men and women in terms of sex, mainly that men were allowed to have it whenever where-ever, but if a woman worked as a prostitute (pretty much her only option for many lower class impoverished women), then she was the lowest of the low.

But these moral reformers were not just upper crust white women realizing the link between themselves and those women on the street. They were also a remarkable example of women working together with men for a feminist cause. The heads of the societies and the publishers of the newsletters were men. Women, in alliance with the men in their lives, worked together to argue for the cause of women everywhere because they recognized that their battle could not succeed without the support of men. Men were integral to the moral reform movement, and they were extremely helpful in terms of suffrage.

Feminism was born out of an alliance between men and women, out of a gracious and mutually beneficial relationship where both sexes worked for the cause of women. And, I would argue, it has maintained that alliance. Other voices have entered into the movement and there has been disambiguation of the varying causes – the recognition that feminism has been pretty racist in the past, and pretty homophobic and transphobic in the present and still has a lot of issues. But one issue we don’t have is man-hating.

Feminism is a vast umbrella that can be best summed up by the idea that “women are people, too.”This means the stay at home mom. This means the Christian woman blogger. This means the girl who politely says “no” to you on the bus. This means the prostitute on the street corner.This means your worst enemy and your best friend are deserving of equal treatment under the law and by their neighbors because they are human beings. For most feminists, this means no strict gender roles or a hierarchy that demands a man be the authority over a woman just because he’s a man and that a woman be submissive and quiet just because she’s a woman.Feminism means allowing both women and men to be themselves as God created them to be – as individuals, not defined by their reproductive system but rather by their personalities, their relationships, their definitions of themselves. It is a movement that prizes people being who they are without being reduced to what equipment they do or don’t have.

It is because we love our brothers that we are feminists, not because we hate them.

Back to said, vague situation. One of the agreements we made as a couple was to never ride in the car by ourselves with someone of the opposite sex. I realize to some people, this is extreme, over-the-top, and a bit intense. And I’m fine with all of those things. I don’t believe riding in the car alone with a guy is sinful. I just think it could be a starting place for a relationship I should only have with my husband. And that guard rail was questioned and mocked, making an awkward situation that I’m perfectly fine with.

So… I’m curious, before going into some of our other “guard rails,” what are some of yours? Do you and your spouse have guard rails you’ve established in your marriage–subconsciously or consciously?

To start out the season of greatness, this happened.
Nate and Brooke Reeves tied the knot and well, it was a Christ-honoring wedding that will only continue in their marriage. Love it.

On a whim, Caitlin, Christy & I drove up to Chicago to visit our friend, Emily.

Then, we Kyle & I ventured down south to Eatonton, Georgia for his stepsister’s wedding, which I officiated!

It was my first time performing a wedding ceremony and I loved every minute of it. The preparation, rehearsal, wedding day. . . it was all such an honor and I loved getting a front-row seat to two people committing to love each other ’til death do them part. Plus, I’m kind of a big fan of Emily and Brince, so that part was easy. :)

Up next? I got to spend quality time with some precious (I really mean precious) high school girls at the end of September. And it was beautiful.

Are you envisioning a suitcase getting worn out yet? Because it’s only just begun. A few days later, I went out to nowhere, Indiana with my best friends from college for a few days of laughing, Funfetti cookies, reading, music videos, hot-tubbing, and a lot bit of crazy. We’re weird. We know it. We show it.

PS-If those backgrounds look eerily similar, it’s because… they’re in the same place.

That next Saturday morning, we drove up with the Reeves’ to Evanston, Illinois to watch the Michigan/Northwestern game. Nate and Brooke have become such close friends of ours this past year, so we’re a little excited that they’re married now. :) They’re in ministry, too, and work at a church about 10 minutes from us. So not only do they “get it,” but we’re honest and encourage each other, too. 

Last weekend, I got ordained. I haven’t taken the time to write about it yet, but all I can say is I was overwhelmed by the amount of people God has placed in my short journey so far. It was humbling to say the very least. My friend Caitlin took some photos of the ordination service, but I don’t have those yet, so for now… all you get is a photo of me with the cake one of Chapel Rock’s youth leaders made. PS–Stacy (the woman who had the cake made), told me that she told the baker to make it “sassy, not cheesy, and funky!” I take that as a major compliment. :)

Yesterday, I drove up to Chicago with my mom and her best friend, Debbie, to celebrate her 60th Birthday. We went to a Dinner Theatre last night and shopped for my mom today. Debbie has been apart of my mom’s life since before I was on the scene, so their friendship is comfortable and familiar… and definitely gives me a picture of something I want for my friendships as well. 

Here’s a look at what’s to come in the next few weeks: Gungor/John Mark McMillan/and someone-named-David-Crowder concert, Crawfords’ Celebration, Youth Ministry Fall Hayride, The Civil Wars Concert, Congregational Dinner, and the Marks/Drye wedding in Winston-Salem, NC.

When I got home today, Kyle had dinner ready and knew I’d want to lay around all night in our pajamas watching football. Well, he did the football watching, I did the Sunday prep. But you get the idea. So now, after a few deep breaths, I’m feeling a little like this:

Happy Fall, to one and all.

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