My girl

The story really started almost twenty years ago. Standing in line at Hardees waiting to get some biscuits and gravy with my dad. I was around 7 I think. He probably doesn't remember this conversation but I do. Vividly. You see, in my neighborhood, there was this high school girl. She drove a red 1965 mustang. I am pretty sure her name was Stephanie Hawkins and I thought she was the coolest person alive. I wanted to be just like her so that morning in Hardees I asked my dad if when I was in high school if I could have a red 1965 mustang just like her. He said, "I tell you what if you are valedictorian I will buy you a 1965 mustang.

Fast forward to senior year. I realized that I wasn't quite going to be valedictorian (only months later did I realize I was 1 little point in calculus away from it but that's another story) so I decided to remind my dad of the conversation and see if I couldn't negotiated a new deal. We agreed that I would get a new car based on scholarship offers. December of that year I wrecked the car he had gotten me at sixteen and got a nice scholarship letter from my #1 school. So on January 1, 2001, my dad bought her for me.

She was beautiful. Perfect. Even if she was a few years old. I instantly fell in love. This week, Clay and I will most likely be getting rid of her. In ways I am very happy but part of my heart is breaking.

She was with me the week my 12 closest friends and I headed to the beach to celebrate the end of high school and the beginning of our "real" lives -- you know, back when 30 sounded so old. I still treasure that picture of my two best guy friends asleep in the back seat cuddling each other and a teddy bear of mine.

She was with me the day I drove off to my #1 school. Complete with a letter in the dashboard from my dad telling me how amazing he thinks I am and how proud he was. (I just removed the letter yesterday) And she was with me the day I drove home to transfer schools.

She was with me for more camps than I can count. She has hauled everything from vats of salsa to more dish washing liquid than they sell in Walmart. Unfortunately, we had some spillage with the soap and to this day if you put some water in the back, the carpet will have suds.

She was there when I realized I loved Clay. He was driving when I looked over and then looked to the backseat. I could literally see our future kid seating in his carseat. It was then that I knew he was it for me.

She was there the day we packed up our world, waved goodbye and moved to Texas. She didn't carry much on the trip. She just transported the two most important things --- our dogs.

After just over 8 years, I have put over 96,000 miles on her. These days she is far from perfect. In fact, she probably has more things wrong than right.

But I still love her. And hate to see her go.

I feel just a tad guilty.

I had lots of great plans to type a wonderful, beautiful year in review post. But I just didn't get around to it. I had all the intentions in the world to write an amazing, inspiring post detailing my 2009 to do list (I prefer "to do list" to resolution) Instead, my blog sat alone and un-updated. I think it feels a bit neglected and I feel a tad bit guilty. Unfortunately, my blog is probably going to continue to feel that way.

On Monday, I officially start grad school. If you are reading this blog, chances are you are know that I am going back to school. If not, don't feel bad...I kinda forgot to tell my mom. Ooops. Thankfully, she was pretty understanding. In fact, she informed me that she once forgot to tell her mom that she was pregnant. Boy, I hope that was when she was pregnant with my brother...

Anyways, I am taking two classes over the next eight weeks and hope to finish my masters (in counseling) in about 18 months or so. I may try to significantly reduce that time frame if I am able to balance work, life and school better than I anticipate. I never was one to take school slowly. I am really excited about going back -- just slightly nervous that I won't be as smart as I once was.

I am so excited that I have already started reading and am about one week ahead of schedule. Oh, and tonight, Clay and I made a special trip to Wal-Mart to gather all my school supplies. I think Clay had to remind me two or three times that I was in grad school not elementary. At least I didn't purchase the Jonas Brothers folder!

So all this to say, if my blog doesn't have tons of updates it is because I am busy learning about ethics and human development. And I don't think you really want updates on that.

I think I can, I think I can...continue repeating

So somehow we are only six days from Christmas which means I really gotta go get Clay's gifts. Yet, my spot on the couch with Clay's old sleeping bag and a little puppy curled up beside me is just so comfortable this morning. 10:24 still counts as morning, right? Just not early morning.

I had such high hopes for today- clean the kitchen, workout, get all the shopping done. So far, I haven't lifted a dish or if we are being real here, brushed my hair. I think if I would just get up right now, I still have enough time to get it all done.

See friends, this is why I can't have a kid-I get zero done and have no one else to take care of but myself. My mom friends do like a thousand things with kiddos dressed in mostly clean clothes and attached to them at the hip or leg or wherever their little hands can grab onto.

Sorry this post is a little boring but I am hoping it provides me with the motivation to get going on my 3 item to do list. okay, here I go...

p.s. hi Uncle Wally....so glad you found my blog!

My Christmas Wish List

Normally, this time of year I am begging Clay to go up to the attic and pull out of all my Christmas decor. Normally, I love to decorate the tree. Normally, I love to put all of the other decorations in the perfect spot around my house. Normally, the James Taylor Christmas album can be heard throughout the house. Normally, I can list several things I would like to receive and spend hours picking out gifts for people on my list. Normally.

This year none of that seems to be the case. Granted if I could find that cd James Taylor would probably be playing but it must have gotten lost somewhere between Knoxville and Keller.

I don't know what my deal is. I just can't get geared up for Christmas. I seriously asked Clay if we even had to put the tree up. To which he replied, "We don't have to, but I think we should." Can some elves just come set it up and twist and turn every pre-lit light until there are all working? I just don't feel like it. All I want to do is fly home.

It has been a year since I have seen my friends. It has been a year since I have sat in my mom's house. It has been a year since I have played with Tyson (my dog that is really more of my mom's dog these days) And it has been a year or really more than that since I have ate at Steamboat, Wasabi and some other places near and dear to my stomach.

I miss it all. I miss it all A LOT.

So if I skip all of the decorating, can I just fast foward to Dec. 25 at 11:05 when my plane lands at home? I have zero desire to move to Knoxville at this moment, but that doesn't mean I don't want to spend a few days there. A few days spent enjoying the comforts of home. A few days playing with that dumb dog and eating at all my old favorites. A few days spent laughing with friends until the wee hours of the morning. Friends who know me. I mean really know me. You know, the ones who can tell stories that get you fired.

That is what I want for Christmas.

The Bigs and the Little

A couple of videos of the dogs playing...the last 10 secs of each are pretty boring. I wasn't quite sure if they were done fighting.

November Cakes

Another Amy Beth Post

Several months ago, I wrote a blog about a girl I knew in high school who took in a friend who was having a baby. Well, the young lady had a beautiful, healthy baby boy. I have the blog on my links...it is entitled Ministry So Fabulous, but I thought I would repost her blog post from today just in case you didn't have time to click the link:

All her scarlet letters.

On Monday night, right before Roomie began pushing, I got as close to her bed as possible, looked her in the eyes and, with tears rolling down my cheeks, thanked her for not having an abortion.

Listen to me. Please, please listen to me.

If you think that Christian girls in their twenties are not having abortions, you are dead wrong. I could give you a list of girls I know who seriously love Jesus and have seriously had an abortion. When you are “caught” in actions that you shouldn’t have been in, you would be amazed at the choices that suddenly seem applicable to your situation. Things you never thought you would do can suddenly seem like the only option out.

This is the ugly truth, you know. It would be so sweet for me to be able to tell you that Roomie never considered that option, that I would never consider it if I was in her situation.

And it would be a lie.

About two months ago, I began literally laying myself before God every morning and asking Him to show me how to best love Roomie. Through tears, I would beg Him to let me experience some of the emotions she was feeling simply so I could understand what it felt like to be her at this time in her life. Once He began letting me feel them, I wished I had never asked in the first place.

I’ll never forget driving to a meeting in another city for Starlite when God began granting my prayer to feel what Roomie felt. As I drove, I thought about what she must have felt like. She was 23, just like me. She was highly educated having just earned a master’s degree, just like me. She was planning a vocational career in ministry, just like me. She was wanting love from her family, just like me. She was lonely, just like me. She believed he meant it when he said he loved her, just like me.

And in one moment, with one bad decision, the rest of her life was changed.

When I hear Christians talk about wanting to put an end to abortion, I sometimes just want to scream. I want it to end, too, but if it became illegal today, I am convinced that we would be in one heck of a mess unless the body of Christ suddenly wakes up and gets a spirit of adoption, of fostering, of being willing to take these babies into our own homes.

We are asking for something that we are not prepared to receive.

When we get down on our knees before God and beg Him to put an end to abortion, we need to also beg Him for hands that will reach out to all the babies that would suddenly have a legal right to life. And listen, I’m speaking to myself here, too. A year ago I would have never believed I would have done this, that I could have done this. There’s nothing glamorous about this experience, no big amount of thanks at the end of the day.

But there is a baby, swaddled and asleep at this very moment, given a chance to live.

And a girl who can take all her scarlet letters — S for sin, A for alone, U for unwed — and trade them in for a new letter: W.

Because, in His eyes and mine, she is wanted.

WOW. Amy Beth, very well said.