the morning blues

There I stood- staring at the shoe rack in my closet.

Confident at today's outfit selection- black pants with blue stripes and a white short sleeve top.
"All I need is some blue shoes then I really need to hurry to work."

Upon realizing I do not own blue high heels...

"Shoot! I don't have any shoes to wear!"

Words begin to register with the logic in my brain... (it's still early after all)

"Melody, did you really just think that? Just because you don't own blue shoes doesn't mean you don't have any to wear. You don't need a pair of shoes in every color of the rainbow."

I briefly counter the voice of reason...

"But, it'd be nice."

I roll my eyes at my ridiculous thoughts, sigh deeply, and reach for the black ones.

Another day has begun.

I have a shoe fetish. I like almost everything about them. I like finding them in the clearance section. I am intrigued that the world keeps coming up with new ways to design & display shoes. I like using them as the top notch accessory to finish off any outfit.

The love of shoes began young for me. When I started my first job at The Piano Loft gift shop at the tender age of 14, I got to buy my own clothes (and shoes). One particular pair stands out to me...they were camel colored "beefed-up" Mary Janes. I loved them. My dad tried to deter the love of shoes by referring to them as "clod-hoppers", but it was too late. The shoe world had sucked me in and there was no turning back now. I soon became infatuated with looking taller, I found a pair of black & white athletic shoes...with a 3 inch platform. Granted, they weighed 5 pounds each with all that extra rubber glued on the bottom, but I loved them.
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One of my first memorable moments of confusion as an adolescent involved shoes. I guess I looked up to my sister for some things. I was amazed at how she could make different outfits with mixing different clothing items. But she had a pair of black, velvet-like Mary Janes. I loved them. I'd wear them in secret and put them back where I found them before she got home. Then- one fine day I saw the same pair on clearance and bought them. When I brought them home, she was angry. I tried to reason with her and promised to never wear them on the same day as her, so we wouldn't match. (Apparently that was a bad thing for sisters to do.) But she exclaimed, "I don't care if we wear them on the same day or not! I don't want you to have the same pair of shoes as me! I'm never going to wear mine again." And she didn't.
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My shoes tell different stories. I think that's why I have such a hard time getting rid of the ones I don't wear anymore. It's a size 8 memory.

stop the madness

Status: My brand new life has been canceled/postponed until further notice.

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This is the part where I refer back to the Lord's last direction to me... "Wait on the Lord." I am beginning to see how very much of our lives is "Hurry up... and wait." Honestly, it's a difficult medicine to swalllow. Here I thought all the chips had hit the floor and landed with specific direction- only to be blindsided with another updraft of turmoil. Sigh.
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But here's the latest development...
I'm applying to GRAD school!!! Of course, if I am accepted into the program I'd still have the option of turning it down later. But for right now, I am super excited to pursue a Master's degree in Marriage and Family Therapy from Argosy University (Twin Cities). It's a two-year program, taught by practicing therapists (networking is k e y), and would take 2 years to complete. Naturally, there is another year of intense supervision before I could get a license to practice in the state. I really hope this works out because I'd love the challenge of this profession- not to mention being a part of people's healing processes. So, say a prayer and keep your fingers crossed for me.

litter po-po

Often I have glanced at those Adopt-A-Highway signs on the sides of the road and wondered, "What is that all about?" I have attempted to take a picture while driving of one groups name- Upper Midwest Pagan Alliance. (unsuccessful & blurry) Apparently they have taken time outside of themselves to care about issues of litter control. On the way to work today, I noticed our local pagans did an excellent job cleaning up their section of road.

Here are some little known facts:

1. Apparently pagans are okay with referring to themselves as... p a g a n s. (I guess political correctness didn't flush that one down the crapper.)

2. YOU TOO can Adopt a Highway! A minimum committment of 2 years is required.

3. Your group cleans up 2-mile sections of freeway only 2-3 times per year.

4. The state will post a lovely 3'x 5' sign with your group name on it.

(I hope you'd get to keep it after your time expired...otherwise I'd have to accidentally stumble into the illegal pedestrian zone & trip with a chainsaw in the middle of the night. A crime? Yes. But a pretty sweet momento.)

5. This litter control volunteer service is only available in certain states that love the planet...hmm, maybe shoulda saved this post for Earth Day.

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Now, perhaps you are wondering why you'd take on this volunteer endeavor?

1. Too feel warm and fuzzy.

2. To get a sign.

3. To help "the earth"...or whatever.

4. To get free safety reflective vests and hats and gloves. Maybe boots too. If you get boots with reflective tape- that's a win-win situation. I am SO in.

5. To go on one of the biggest treasure hunts ever. You'd probably be surprised at the random junk that shows up on the side of the freeway. I often wonder about items I see as I drive...like, how does someone lose one shoe? or a mattress? or a bag of tiki torches? Not to mention the stuff that flies off of semi's that could be used creatively for a backyard fort. You gotta think outside the box, people!

invisible people

Can You See Her? by Lisa DePalma

Can you see her? Will you let God show you?

Her face instead of her clothes? Her eyes instead of her body?

Can you see her? Will you let God show you?

She has a name instead of a label, a broken heart instead of a hard one.

Can you see her? Will you let God show you?

The image of God instead of an object of scorn.

Her worth to the Savior instead of her worthlessness to the world.

Can you see her? Will you let God show you?

His heart of forgiveness instead of your heart that judges.

His blood that covers instead of your rules that condemn.

Can you see her? Will you let God show you?

And when you do see, what then?

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What happens when we open up our eyes to see those who cross our paths everyday?The ones who pass us in traffic, scurry in & out of the grocery store, or wait at the corner bus stop while we sit at the stoplight in our car.

Our heart grows.

It breaks.

It's uncomfortable.

Do we feel compelled to show and share the Love of Christ?

What if they knew we possess the hope of the world, the meaning of life?

Would they reach out and ask?

Or would they shrink in fear of knowing the truth?

Our heart grows.

It breaks.

It's uncomfortable...and inconvenient.

Jesus' command to die to self and to live as Christ

begins to make a little more sense.

As it turns out- it's not about you.

Our pastor has been doing a sermon series entitled Compelled.

We are compelled-

To love others

as Jesus did

See others

as Jesus did

Take time for people

as Jesus did.

But what do I do when the love for strangers grows to be bigger than I can bare? The passion literally wants to explode from my inside? I think, just maybe, it is a mere glimpse of the heart that Jesus had which drove Him to bridge the gap on the cross just so He could be in relationship with His lonely, lost, misdirected sheep.

When you begin to feel your heart yearn & strain for strangers jogging past your house, you have discovered...

A heart that has grown.

A brokenness for the lost.

A discomfort that will compell you to share the message of Hope.

...This is a good thing.

the female cycle

In the past, I have heard that you are more likely to conceive a boy or a girl on certain days of the month if you time it out correctly. For whatever reason (probably my line of work), this thought has often floated in & out of my brain over the past 10 years. Yesterday, I decided to google the ovulation cycle and see what kind of info it gave me. Turns out, it's true. You literally can try to plan the gender of your babe if you are that determined to conceive a boy vs. a girl or the other way around. Anyway, the link I clicked on from google took me to the Ovulation Calendar and it tells you the most & least fertile days of the female cycle. I found it all very educational. This morning when I logged in to my computer, this box popped up and said, "You are not fertile during this time..." I laughed super hard because I didn't know it had downloaded a little desktop icon. So for the next 45 days, I will have a free trial version of the software on my computer, and I will be very informed about the inner workings of my body.

proud to be a pill popper

itchy eyes, sneezing, sore throat, coughing, headache only on the top of my head, congestion.Thus begins another round of, "Do I have allergies? Or am I getting a cold?"
Wanting to be in my best health since I'll be visiting family & friends this weekend, I stopped in at the local CVS Grand Opening & bought some Claritin-D non drowsy off brand to see if this does the trick. It's already been in my system for 30 minutes, and my sinus' are starting to "breathe freer" as the box promises. This should be a good day.

Rastafarian paradise

i overslept today. the sunshine shining through the windows for the first time in days didn't even help. i seriously rolled over and had one of these mental exchanges with myself, "Seriously?! It's morning already? *grumble grumble* I hate this! Being an adult is SO DUMB. Just 5 more minutes." In my personal opinion, waking up is like the worst invention ever. It's always like trying to motivate the sleeping dead. The usual incentives (Looking put together, Having time to shave, Swinging through the Starbucks drive-thru, or Listening to good music) start to not work after a while.

Perhaps it has something to do with the extremely bizarre-o dream I had in the wee hours of the morning involving... One animal abuser lady, Two chihuahuas who were crazed, and A routine the dogs were trained to perform at a strip club. Except for I kept doing the signal that triggered the dogs to perform. Their performance was biting down super hard on my calves and leaving bloody tooth prints.

When I was Melody-in-a-junior-high-body, I use to pretend to interpret dreams for my friends just for fun. A majority of my friends knew I was making it up, but I did have one friend (Tracy) who really believed I could do it. Years later, she called and asked me to interpret a dream about her fiance.

If I were to interpret this bizarre-o dream, I'd say- I've had incredibly too much salsa the last few days. Delicious & nutritious. But messing with the psyche. And- strip club would indicate a need to perform in my life. (not necessarily stripping, but just a performance of some kind) I'm being forced to perform because there is pain involved.

If I could be a scam artist, I would become a dream consultant. HA! There's that word, consultant....not so boring after all. (See previous post Re: possible careers) I would make big bucks off of the associations that people make in their brains while they sleep. I think I'd name my storefront shop- Dream Weaver: What your dreams are saying about you. I'd get a little bell on the front door that makes a delightful jingle when you walk in. I'd decorate with all sorts of mythical, hodge-podge, and strange objects that would just make a person stop and think "Hmph. I wonder where you'd buy something like that." (It would be Papua New Guinea, by the way- or IKEA. Nevertheless, definitely a land from down under)