Slug Sex

Go with me, here.

It may sound weird, but just watch the video.

If you didn't catch on, let me fill you in on some details from my recent research: slugs are hermaphrodites. As in, they have girl and boy reproductive parts. They are also hatched from eggs.

Why my sudden interest?

Well, slugs have always been on my radar - ever since my brother, Mike, told me that they could jump six feet in the air and attack me. At the age of five, I believed him. So much so that there was a pant-wetting incident due to a banana slug. True story.

Aaaaaannnd, I've always enjoyed pouring salt on the little guys to CREATE THEIR DEMISE!!! Bwahahahahaha!!! In fact, Kevin and I have gone slug hunting in the evenings when we take MacDuff down for the last potty trip before bed. There are several different kinds of slugs out there, some of which have been eating my MIL's garden like crazy (sneaky little buggers)! It seemed like the perfect symbiotic relationship: we get to salt the slugs and the garden gets to grow.

And while I admit to hating any type of animal suffering (I'll tell you about the dying opossum I "saved" another time), this doesn't usually extend to bugs and slugs. But for whatever reason, I started wondering about the lives of the slimy little guys. I would see baby slugs and wonder how old they were.

How are they born? How do they reproduce? What's inside the sticky exoskeleton? 

So I looked it up. Wikipedia and YouTube. How could I go wrong?

The video above was the first I found. And since the narrating voice matches the one from the Planet Earth series, I'm going to say it's legit. 

Watch it again.

ISN'T THAT CRAZY?!?!?! I'm so fascinated! Now I really want to build a terrarium of some kind and watch slugs mate, reproduce, and grow up close. Seriously, this might just happen.

Truly, the creatures of this world amaze me. How did God think of all of their intricate details? Even flies, which I detest, have a distinct pattern on their back. Worms move way more quickly than they should. Spider webs are one of the strongest materials made by a creature.

It's amazing and awe-inspiring.

You don't have to go Hug a Slug now, or allow one to touch you in any manner (yuck!), but at least show the video to someone. It's just too awesomely gross and weird not to!

So tell me: What strange detail of nature fascinates you?

Ruth.

The past two weeks I have begun delving into the book of Ruth with a woman's Bible study group. This isn't the first time I've read through this story, but it is the first time I've really pulled it apart with the intent of truly learning more than the surface list of events.

No matter the subtext, the truths behind the story that we cannot truly know, her emotions and motives, it is clear that Ruth was an incredible woman. As the tagline of the devotional by Kelly Minter reads, this is a story of loss, love, and legacy. Ruth lost a husband, and her brother and father-in-law. She was left with the choice of returning to her people of Moab or continuing back to the land of Judah with her mother-in-law, Naomi, who had renamed herself "Bitter" (Mara in the NIV). Not an easy choice, if you ask me.

As the story goes, she clung to her MIL and followed her back to Bethlehem. Naomi's people and God would be Ruth's people and God, as she firmly declared. Perhaps Ruth chose Naomi and an unknown land because she had little to return to in Moab. Perhaps she felt the call of the one true God on her heart. Perhaps she felt a deep sense of loyalty and obligation to Naomi, who was left without her husband and two sons. Perhaps she was afraid to travel the road home alone. In my opinion, there's no way for us to really know.

That said, I think Ruth was following her gut. The overall story paints Ruth as a woman of courage and ingenuity. Whatever the catalyst, she followed her heart in the face of immense change and validated fears. 

I find myself basking in the irony of studying about a woman facing fears, change, and moving to another land in this time of my life. How easy it would be for me to feel more like Naomi, wallowing in self pity and, now I'm taking a guess here, blaming God for my trials. 

Been there, done that. Some days, I am there, doing that.

But I strive to rise to the challenges, choosing attitudes of thankfulness and patience, much like I envision Ruth doing. I'm also blessed with a living husband who buoys me when needed, never letting go of my hand through this whole process. 

Moving three hours away from my communities, living with in-laws (wonderful, though they are), choosing a church together (an issue all in itself, but more on that another time), needing financial miracles to keep afloat, looking for work, and still battling myself and my food addiction to be healthy. It feels like a lot. It has been. And yet, God is providing. Day by day. 

In fact, given that the probational period pans out (like that alliteration?), I have a job as a barista here in town. I'm so excited! God put contacts in place, and without even an application or resume turned in, I was offered a job (again, if the next month proves the right chemistry for us both). I love making coffee! The hours are flexible, I get to be home with my hubby at night, and I get to love on people while getting paid. Such a tremendous opportunity and blessing.

And through this Bible study, I am making more friends. That is huge for me. The finances? Well, given all of God's current and previous provision, I have to believe that He will give us the opportunity to solve that as well.

There are so many instances I have to look back on proving God's hand in my life; how much harder would that be for a woman like Ruth who had little more than ten years married to a man who came from Judah, the land of God's people? If she could follow her gut and heart to God, so can I. 

So tell me: What inspires you to follow your gut and heart?

Weekly Update, and the 4th

Weekly Update


Exercise: Umm... didn't happen.


Weight Loss: No idea. Didn't check. (Probably a good thing...)


Victories/Struggles: Well...

• I felt fat for a few days
• I felt bloated most of the week
• I ate lots of junk
• I actually don't feel too terribly bad about it, because
• Because there are more important things sometimes
• I spent time with friends, family, and kept my house clean
• I am feeling (again) like I can't reach my weight goal

I don't have the results I want. I can't seem to really stick to anything. As my husband so wisely points out, I have to have motives that will last me through the whole process; the good times, the bad times, the hard times, the easy times. I'm thinking about a Dickens novel... "It was the best of times and the worst of times..." Anyway...

I'm not super happy at size 14 (pants) and 180 pounds, give or take a few depending on the week.

When I'm really on it, I'm working out three times a week for about an hour at a time. I even have a gym membership, remember? Paid in full through August, even if the budget tightens later on...

And that Weight Loss Competition? Oi. 

I don't know, you guys. Why is this so hard?

I feel like Eeyore. He was pleasantly rotund. Well, not pleasantly, I suppose.

Today has been a good eating day so far. That's something, right? And the 4th is tomorrow... Burgers. BURGERS!!! Chips. CHIPS!!! Oi.

I don't want to make some proclamation about getting through yet another holiday without falling off the wagon. I'll be too disappointed when it doesn't happen. I get to be with my parents, my in-laws, neighbors, friends, and one of my beautiful little nieces (from Oregon) who isn't so little anymore. That's more important than a pant size in the long run.

But I can't ignore the fact that I have indeed felt a calling to be healthy, to treat my body as a temple, to battle food addiction, turning to God instead of food. My resolve does not hold up to temptation most days. Novelty, excitement, new goals, that can last for a while - but never long enough.

Come on, God.

Let's be honest, He's here. 

So, come on, Nicole.

Oi. Today is an Oi day. 

Oi.

So tell me: How do you keep going? How do you keep up your resolve?

And, HAPPY 4TH OF JULY!!!! (A day early). Despite my current Oi-ness, I am a thankful American, joyfully celebrating this nation and the God who has blessed it so abundantly. And fireworks make me so happy! Pretty colors!!!

The Swing of Things

"Getting settled" is a bit foreign to me. How does one get settled? How does one get the swing of things?

When I moved away from my childhood hometown to my high school and college hometown, I cried a lot and had a rough time adjusting.

When I moved to college, a whole five minutes from my parent's house, I cried a lot and had a rough time adjusting.

When I moved to Mexico for a semester, I cried a lot and had a rough time adjusting.

When I moved in with my new husband forty minutes from home, I cried a lot and had a rough time adjusting.

When I moved to Washington one week ago, I cried a lot and I'm having a rough time adjusting.

Apparently that is what "getting settled" means to me. 

In every single situation, what helped me to move past my roller coaster of emotions was routine. A purpose. Something I had to focus on. When I literally don't have time to think, to focus on the change, to project all the horrible (and usually unlikely) possibilities of the future, I fall into routine and feel just fine. The reality of my world seems right and much less frightening. I usually find that everything I've been so afraid of is much better than I had thought. Isn't that how it generally goes?

Well, I'm not at that point yet with this most recent move. But I want to be. Rather than waiting for my surroundings to miraculously give me that settled feeling, I'm being proactive this time. 

Yesterday, I drove to town and ran errands all by myself. One of my big fears about moving is always getting lost. I'm terrible with directions. Simply awful. So when I was able to get to the gym and to Safeway and back home again without getting lost once I was pretty excited. For me, that is an accomplishment.

[Side note: I'm also afraid of the gym. There are skinny, buff people there. When I went to the one at our apartment complex, I went with Kevin - and it was small. Baby steps. So yesterday, walking into the gym was so intimidating. I found the ellipticals. I scouted out the situation. There, in between two gym goers was the machine which most closely resembled the one I used at our old place. Usually I would choose a machine at least one space away from anyone else. You know, like at the movie theater or church? You don't want to sit by people unless you have to or you know them well. So, even though this elliptical was sandwiched in there, I marched right up and claimed my vehicle to future fitness. Once I was on there for a while, I was feeling pretty good! I was moving right along, actually faster than the gal to my right. I glanced at Keeping Up with the Kardashians on her TV once in a while and silently rocked out to my Workout Playlist. I even noticed an awesome rock wall in the middle of the gym and decided I would climb it someday. I was feeling fierce and on top of the world. Then, some blonde, with legs for days, waltzed over to the elliptical machines and reminded me of my noob-ness. She pumped on that thing like an expert. Perfect rhythm. She would do some two-step move each time she switched directions, without missing a beat. And she was moving at least twice as fast as I was. She was tiny, fit, and tan. I called her a not-so-nice name in my head. And possibly out loud when I was telling Kevin my story later on. But I won't tell. And he won't either. Spousal privilege.]

Driving around our new town, figuring out how to get to Safeway so we can eat, how to get to the gym so I can torture myself, and back home so Kevin's State Trooper brother-in-law won't have to come looking for me- all good things. Especially good for helping me to get the swing of things. But that's just part of it. I need more routine than that.

So I'm making one. I don't have a job right now (possibly the first time since I was a senior in high school or living abroad) and therefor don't have a schedule made for me. Kevin is studying for the bar exam everyday, so we are making a schedule for that - but that leaves hours for me to use up. The little things help. Tuesdays and Thursdays are our laundry days. Since we are sharing a well with two other households, we had to schedule out laundry so it doesn't dry up. And since I want to go to the gym at least three times a week, I'll go the other days: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. I'm sure there will be variances once in a while, but this is a good start for a Planner like me.

We get up, let MacDuff relieve himself, make coffee, eat breakfast, do a short devotion, and Kevin goes to study (in the spare bedroom/office) until lunch. There are always little projects for me to do. Picture frames to fill and hang, laundry, exercising, grocery shopping, dishes, sweeping, vacuuming, managing our budget, meal planning, playing/dealing with puppy... 

And part of why I'm not working this month is so that I can relax a bit. I'm so bad at that. But I will give it my best shot. I'm thinking reading, blogging (of course), making our wedding albums (prints and scrapbook), Facebook (duh), that kind of thing. It turns out I'm not very good at relaxing. I feel like there's always some chore I should be doing instead. How very much like my mother I am. So, like my newly retired Mama, I'm trying to allow myself moments of rest and relaxation.

I'm not great at spontaneity. I like plans and routine. Shocking, I know. But I also know that I crave down time that isn't planned down to the minute. Those are the times that I see God best, when I see the blessings in our life, and feel fulfilled and not so drained. But, as our verse from yesterday morning reminded me, "tomorrow will worry about itself", so I need to calm the hell down today. God agrees, I promise.

So tell me: How do you adjust to change? What helps you get settled?

Exodus in Genesis

Exodus 5. Read it here.

The point: A couple guys on mission from God ask the head honcho of the Egyptians for a time of rest and seeking God for their people. He says no. And punishes the slaves instead. He makes their labors even more difficult. They have to produce more brick with fewer supplies. Sounds like a nice guy.

The people, unable to keep up with the new conditions, blame the Mission Guys for their troubles. Just days earlier, they had been praising God and ready to follow the Mission Guys to Deliverance. Now, however, their world has become more difficult and they want to point a finger.

One of the Mission Guys, the one with the stick and aptitude for raising walls of water, feels crushed and asks God if He made a mistake by sending him to do this.

Here's what I got from it: The world, this society, makes us believe that their answers, their rewards are the only way to live life; and that their punishments and disciplines will end that life. That the world's values must be our values. That the loudest voices in society must be right, no matter what. Pharaoh made the Israelites believe that only he could grant and take life. That the threat of physical pain was worth avoiding - even if it meant rejecting True Peace and Deliverance.

Lately, Kevin and I have been feeling the need for rest. Time to seek God, if you will. Time to be together. Time to let down, relax. The world tells us that we don't deserve rest, that we don't have enough money to slow down- even for a little bit.

That husband of mine has been going none stop for over three years. For me it has been almost two years. We are tired. We are in need of rest. We try to take time to rest each week, but we need some extended time. Not just a vacation, a time book-ended by stress and work, but a season (short though it may be) to slow down. A time of Jubilee.

Just like the Israelites, that time appears so beautiful when my focus is on what my heart and soul need. Then, when the world tells me that I haven't produced enough brick to slow down, my worries and insecurities flare up with reckless abandon.

My husband and I need time to settle into our new home when we move. He needs time to study for the bar exam. I need time to set up our apartment and get acclimated to living outside of Oregon for the first time. MacDuff needs to pee outside. Always. But that's a different story.

What better time to rest? Slow down? Take it easy?

In fact, I think that is what God is asking of us. [I could write a whole other post (series, even) about seeking God's will and how NEBULOUS that is, but I'll save it for later.]

Last week, I was notified that I would not be interviewing for a job I had applied for in our new city. It would have required a harried and early move and a whirlwind of stress, but it would have offered security. And I was qualified. And who doesn't want to be told that someone else thinks they're awesome enough on paper to talk to in person? Isn't that what the world says we have to have? Isn't that what the world values? Won't the world beat me up if I don't pursue its values?

Well, it didn't happen. And I'm sort of relieved. Weird, right?

God will take care of our finances. I believe that. The truth is, our finances will be fine for several months. But even seeing a possible struggle in the future makes me crave that no-doubt security. Having trust like that is probably the hardest thing I face. I want to control it. I want that security. I want to know Pharaoh's men aren't going to beat me.

Sometimes all I can focus on is fighting off the world's beatings, even at the cost of the rest my soul needs - that my little family needs. Even when all True signs point to the Deliverance of rest, I want the world to tell me that it is okay to slow down. But it never will.

The world will never tell me what I want to hear, not what I truly need to hear.

It tells me to be skinny, but to do it quickly with fad diets. It also tells me to pursue convenience and decadence at the same time.

It tells me to value money and objects over time with loved ones and time of rest.

This time, I'm not going to listen.


So tell me: What does the world tell you that flies in the face of what you truly need?

Why I Love "Friends"

I love the TV show Friends.

In fact, I got my husband addicted to it.

I like to speak "Friends" with my own friends.

I actually feel like the main six characters are my friends.

Yes, I am just that silly, but I also see the humanity and reality of these characters. I can see myself in every single character. Do I like that porn and casual sex are treated with levity and portrayed as commonplace? No, not exactly. But both of these are part of this world. That doesn't make it okay, but it doesn't do any good to pretend that the world isn't full of sin, and really, struggling humans.

You see, I love the writings of people like Don Miller, Anne Lamott, Brennan Manning, and C. S. Lewis (thinking of his memoirs). These people tell it like it is. These writers understand how I interact with Jesus. The books, movies, stories that shout "JESUS" after every sentence leave me bruised and annoyed. What I love, what I relate to in works such as Blue Like Jazz, is that Miller chooses Jesus. He tells stories of his life. Adventures. Struggles. And at the end, he still chooses Jesus. That resonates with me far greater than a Christian How-To book.

Don't mistake me. I enjoy those books too. They also have a place. But they do not speak to my soul in the same way. A good friend of mine briefly detailed why she loves Brennan Manning's work, specifically his newest, All Is Grace. This friend of mine speaks my mind. Read her reactions here. (And seriously, while you're there, read it all. She is a fantastic writer.)

My soul, my spirit, resonates most with music and story. I see Jesus in every story I hear. Stories are about us, us humans. Stories, good stories, tell the truth. That is also why I love theatre. Theatre is about storytelling.

So I watch a show like Friends and see myself, the broken pieces of my human self. I see the brokenness of our world. I see a world in need of Christ's healing, His grace and mercy.

And best of all, I hear laughter. LAUGHTER! That is the other component that sets my soul afire. When I watch Joey and Chandler hug it out, when Ross covers his legs in lotion and baby powder, when Rachel and Monica bicker, when Phoebe (well, Lisa Kudrow) almost laughs at her own jokes, I LAUGH!!! Sometimes my sides ache from it. 

It is not derisive or ironic laughter. It is the ability to see our humanity and find the humor in it. The humor, not the guilt. 

Kevin and I had a four-hour conversation one night of our beach trip all about the focus of the Church, especially what is preached. I was being really hard on myself, beating myself up, again, and he told me to stop it. "What? Why? You are too easy on me! Being hard on myself helps me to get better! To be better!"

"How?"

Crap. He did it again. Focusing on my guilt, my mistakes, my failures, my humanity - all that does is keep my eyes away from where they truly want to rest - on Jesus. My history with the Church primarily involves feeling badly about anything and everything I do wrong. (The definition of wrong could be a whole other post.)

Yes, we are to evaluate our mistakes, learn from them. I believe we need to be self-analytical enough to track our patterns, figure out where we go wrong. But guilt? Why does guilt always accompany this process?

Is it learned?

Is it taught?

Is it right?

Is guilt from God?

Is it bad to watch Friends, laugh at the jokes, the antics? Not to me. I don't plan on letting my future four-year-old watch Joey woo some poor girl with "How YOU doin'?", but I do not believe it is wrong to acknowledge the humor in our humanity - without guilt.

If I see two men kissing in a play, I'm not going to walk out. 

I'm not going to boycott The Golden Compass, the movie or the books, because the story is "against the Church". In my experience, this story points on many truths about the Church. It is a wonderful story. As everything, take it with a grain of salt!

If we, the Church, bury our heads in the sand and refuse to laugh at ourselves, we are lost. We lose our relevance to a world in need of compassion, grace, mercy. This is why I love Stuff Christians Like. It's true! It's funny!

Naming my issues, mistakes, failures is productive. Dwelling on them to the point of self-loathing does nothing. That is not of Jesus. That is not acting in the freedom brought by His grace and mercy. So, as ever, I will laugh. And move on.

And go watch some Friends.

So tell me: What makes you laugh?

The Head and the Heart

Alaska, summer 2011.

This just in: I am a new wife. Okay, so that may not be news, but it is certainly true. After a few months of marriage, I am no expert - but I do care a great deal what kind of wife I am to my amazing husband. (Note: I will use almost any excuse to brag about my husband. He's humble enough for us both.) :-)

One of my wedding presents was the book The Power of a Praying Wife, by Stormie Omartian. I had heard of her books, and even have a dusty Graduate version somewhere, but had never read one. A few weeks ago I started having weekly solo devotions. My New Year's Resolutions were certainly a catalyst for this, but I have been wanting to make room for extended God time for a while.

You know that feeling you get when you sit down to have God time and it has been a while? I had cleaned up a bit in the bedroom where I do my devotions (because I cannot focus in a messy space - yes, I am becoming my mother), grabbed a snack (yogurt with grapes), and settled in to enjoy some alone time while Kevin was at class. And that's when that feeling hit. Somewhere in my chest. It's that feeling I get when I spend time with a friend who I haven't seen in a long time. It's not that God and I have been at odds, more that I let the busyness of life take over and forget that I need time with my Creator. Time to rest, heal, and listen. Time to learn more about Him and His Word.

[Tangent: I have struggled with devotions since I was little. Growing up in a Christian home and environment, I always wanted to be that "Perfect Christian Girl". I can still remember who I thought that was as a twelve-year-old. She was always the best at Bible Quizzing, she knew every Bible story our Children's Pastor talked about, and she came from a Perfect Christian Family. At least that's what I thought. So when I went to have devotions, I thought I would need to read my Bible every day for at least 15 minutes, hear God speak to me, pray for everyone I knew, and feel something special each time. If I didn't get the feeling, I obviously didn't do it right. With all that pressure to be "perfect", I never stuck with the habit for more than a few days in a row, a week tops. This was true up until my college years, when I discovered something incredible: God doesn't care if I have the feeling each time, He just wants me to show up. Whether it is praying in the car, in the shower, on the treadmill, or on my knees - He just wants me to show up. Spending time with God every day, living my life according to Scripture, that is my devotion. I'm sure God wouldn't mind if I spent those 15 minutes reading my Bible every day, but I also don't think I will be struck by lightning if I don't. I have been a bit more disciplined about my devotional time over the last several years. Trust me - I'm no image of perfection - but I do try. One thing I've found that really helps me is journaling. It focuses and centers my prayer time.]

For the past several weeks, I have been reading and praying through one chapter from Stormie's book as part of my devotional time. Praying over my husband, and not just my needs and wants, has been eye opening. So often I see him as a pillar of strength and source of wisdom; he certainly has these attributes, but he also has moments of weakness and insecurity. Praying for him in such a diligent and pointed way forces me to think of him first, before myself. And that's the goal, right? During our pre-marital counseling we constantly came back to this model for our marriage: to put God before each other and each other before ourselves. 

The first section of The Power of a Praying Wife goes over many things, but what stuck with me most was the idea of the husband being the head and the wife being the heart. Stormie stresses that these are the roles husbands and wives are to play in marriage. For the most part, I agree with her. I feel the most in my element when I am creating a home that provides sanctuary for my husband and me. And Kevin feels the most in his element when he is protecting me and our home.

The roles of husband and wife have to be learned, I think, and altered to fit the needs of each couple. I'm not talking about who has the job and who takes care of the home, many times it's both! What I'm more talking about are the emotional and spiritual roles that men and women often fall into naturally, or have to fall into to meet each other's needs.

(I have also been reading Esther during my devotional time. What a courageous woman. That would not have been an easy life to live.)

So tell me: What are you reading these days? What inspires you? What do you do to center and focus?