Sunday, September 12, 2010

I hate doing laundry.

I hate doing my laundry.  It is one of the many indulgences I truly miss from being a child.  I miss the way your clothes just magically showed up in your drawers clean and then you played in the dirt with no cares that they would inevitably get dirty.  So here I am, sitting on the washing machine, missing the simplicities of childhood.

My dear friend Erin Niles sent me a lovely letter today.  In our handwritten correspondence, we ask each other questions.  For instance: "If you could have dinner with anyone, living or dead, who would it be and why?" And, "If you ruled a country, which country would it be."  And now my favorite for which I will spend most of this blog discussing, "What does the perfect day look like for you?"

My perfect day?

I wake up at 7:00 perfectly rested and wide awake.  I take a shower.  Pull on a freshly dried pair of my favorite Gap jeans.  Fix my hair, put on my favorite Fossil t-shirt and yellow cardigan and head to work on my bicycle (which I made).  I show up to work on time and ready to go.  I start working as a barista, making coffee for the locals.  Oh, did I mention I'm in Guatemala, speaking Spanish fluently to all who enter?  Seeing as it's a pretty relaxed joint, I get to play whatever music I like.  Naturally, I play some Dave Bruebeck, Melody Gardot, Miles Davis, Jamie Cullum, Madeleine Peyroux.  You know, that jazzy stuff.  I then get off work around 2:30 and take a nice ride across town on my bike, to the orphanage(Or Boys and Girls club.  This part is subject to change).  I change into more fitting apparel and am greeted by dozens of children after school.  I then play until I'm joined by a handsome young man, who can't be much older than me.  He and I continue to play with the children until just after dinner time, all the while unabashedly flirting with each other.  We share dinner with them, tuck a few of the younger ones into bed, help the older ones with their homework and then proceed to leave the building.  We both get on our bicycles which are parked next to each other.  Then I take a nice, leisurely ride home with my husband; side by side, ready to take on the big adventures of the next day.

That's my perfect day.

So, as I sit here, waiting for my laundry to dry, I realize I have a horrid stomach ache and a hurting back.  But I was so lost in my make believe story of my perfect day, I quite lost track of time.

This blogging thing is really growing on me.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Coffee Shop Night!

At the union there is this coffee shop called Caribou Cafe.  It's a sweet little place that's really popular during the day but not so popular at night when people actually have something to do.  So here I am with nothing to do, best friend on a date, and uninterested with my hallmates.

So I came to the coffee shop.  All day, it was just kind of a coffee shop day.  It just felt like a good night to go sit, write a blog, read my Bible, do some thinking and people watch like a total creep.  I think my brother would think that's a very trendy thing of me to do.  But I don't mind.  

And here I am.  I came to a few conclusions:

1.  People are weird.  There's an asian chick working the cash register and I swear she's apologized at least 5 times in the last 2 minutes.  She can't go through a full sentence without an apology.  Also, there is some sort of tai chi/dance class going on in the bottom half of the Union in the open area where there are normally chairs and tables.  The only annoyance I find is that their music is so loud it's competing with my head phones.  Also, there is a guy who has walked around the ground floor of the Union fourth times.  He is currently on his fifth go around.  What's weird about that?  Oh, maybe the fact that he's walking BACKWARDS.  He's probably my future husband.  That's his gym membership.

2.  I'm eating an apple fritter.  It's making the crappy things slightly better.

3.  Jill Chatfield sent me a letter in the mail.  I received it today.  I love getting mail.  Seriously, love it.  

4.  I'm sick of girls.  Not to say I don't love girls.  But I like on a wing full of them.  I would like to be around some males.  But not just any males.  I am longing to have guy friends who love Jesus and are dedicated to moral things.  And lovely things, noble things, righteous things.  I'm sick of douche bags.  Don't you dare misread what I'm saying.  I am not referring to how much I'd love to be married.  No.  I am only saying, "Good grief!  I miss hanging out with people who do stupid things just to see if they can and who hide in my trunk to scare me but then fail and who will have coffee with me and talk about Jesus and life."  Is that too much to ask for?  Apparently it is.

5. I saw a sign for a Pumpkin Spice Latte and got super excited.  It sounded so good and perfect for writing a blog about how excited I am that it's fall!  But they don't serve them until tomorrow.  I hate pre-advertisement.  So then I thought, hey, I'll get a Rooibos Lemonade.  Nope.  I won't.  They're all out.  Chai?  Oh good.  Something I like.

Also, I hate it when people ask me if I'm "going home after class."  I always say no.  Because I do not refer to the dorms as home.  I won't say it.

Jesus, please send me some friends that love you.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

It's Wednesday. And I'm inspired to write.



That is TOO exciting!

Anyway, it's rainy here.  And I'm writing letters.  3 down, lots to go.

My blessed thought of the day:

"You are Christ's." - 1 Corinthians 3:23

What a crazy verse!  It is action packed in every sense of the phrase!  You belong to the Creator of the Heavens and the Earth.  He made me.  He knit you together.  He thinks about you.  He prays for you.  He loves you and you are His.  That is not light.  That is so precious and wonderful!  I can't even type that without smiling!

I want to strive to show the world that I am the servant, friend and bride of Jesus.  Immortal principles forbid the friend of Christ to sin.  Stand firm against sin saying to yourself, "I am Christ's."  I'm reading an amazing book, this is a little part of it:
        "Are you placed where others are sitting down idly, doing nothing?  Rise to the work with all your powers; and when the sweat stands upon your brow, and you are tempted to loiter, cry, 'No, I cannot stop, for I am Christ's.  If I were not purchased by blood, I might be like Issachar, crouching between two burdens; but I am Christ's, and cannot loiter.'"

Christian, your conduct should be so redolent of heaven, that all who see you may know that you are the Savior's recognizing in you His features of love and His countenance of holiness.

If I am tempted to smoke, drink, use foul language, think ungodly thoughts, look down on people I must stop myself and say, "I am Christ's!"

How honorable to be Christ's.  You are His bride.  And you are called to act as such.  Just like a child reflects the parent, so you reflect Christ.  Let it be evident:  YOU ARE CHRIST'S!