Food for the Mood

It’s been an interesting week…a roller-coaster of being fired up, pressed to dig deep, forced to admit weakness, and filled with shame and humiliation that I don’t have it all under control. One of the things that I love most about our church is the encouragement of and commitment to authenticity. I thought I was getting better at being real, but now I'm not so sure. I'm finding that I don’t let go of concerns and inadequacies on a regular basis; and so, I’ve see-sawed from “everything’s great, got it all under control” to asking myself “what the heck happened, what in the world is wrong with you?” True to form, I found myself questioning whether I should publish this post. Might as well go for broke.

I was unprepared for what would follow a very real conversation this week (thank you to the folks that spent some very real time with me and encouraged some soul-searching). You’d think it would be a relief to let go of something. But, I found myself eating caramel dip straight from the container (YUM-O) and heading straight to bed to sleep it off. I got angry with God for the first time ever; I should be able to at least be real with Him. I’m finally forced to deal with some junk again when I’d rather just shove it in the closet and slam the door. Dang…this is gonna take some getting used to. I despise cleaning out closets.

Today, I’m at peace for the first time in a long time. My mind is not racing. I spent some quality time with Lenny this morning (thank you for going in a little later!). I have something to accomplish. I’m making pies. I’ve never made a pie before (it’s ok, I’m good at following instructions). I thought that I really didn’t like cooking. But how therapeutic! It’s a beautiful day outside. I’m hanging in the kitchen, having some coffee, watching leaves fall, and marveling that my pies actually look good. Taste is still to be evaluated. However, they smell good.

I needed a white shirt to serve at a special dinner tonight, but didn’t have one. A dear friend let me borrow one (check out her and her hubby’s blog here). There’s something about soul-searching followed by the hubs lingering, leaves falling, the sun shining, pies baking, cats meowing, coffee-drinking, and a friend’s sharing that just feed my mood and my soul. I’m happy, full, and feeling better about just being me and being real. Onward to the weekend…

Stories

I have a terrible habit of making things up. I’m not talking about lying. I’m talking about making things up in my mind. You know what I mean. Someone doesn’t smile as big at you, so that must mean that you smell or you said something to offend them. You’ve been called to a meeting, not told what it’s about, and so you quietly step into your hand basket and assume you know exactly where it’s going. It’s a habit many of us possess. I’ve met others, so I know I’m not the only person with a tendency to write stories in my mind.

Last night, I found myself writing a mind-novel, in which I ran from scenario to scenario and jumped from conclusion to conclusion. It was exhausting, draining, completely ridiculous. So, this morning, I decided to see what God says about it. Through a not-so-direct path, I found myself in the book of Jeremiah, strangely enough, reading the exact same passage I read earlier this week but from a different perspective:

“But blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD,
whose confidence is in him.
He will be like a tree planted by the water
that sends out its roots by the stream.
It does not fear when heat comes;
its leaves are always green.
It has no worries in a year of drought
and never fails to bear fruit."
– Jeremiah 17:7-8

Wow. If I’m any remnant of a tree, it certainly isn’t this one. Worrying, making things up, jumping to conclusions…that’s not trusting in my God. Letting go, trusting HIM to work things out as HE would have them…I’ve been there before and it saddens me that I stepped away, even if briefly. So, my prayer today was to let go again. I found a verse that I keep marked. Search me God, know my heart. I stand in awe of you and I’m letting go…again. You’ve got my full attention and the story is Yours to write.

“Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me and lead me in the way everlasting.” – Psalm 139: 23-24

Child of the 80s

Yeah, that's right. It's Friday night. I'm not out dancing or doing anything super cool. I'm on a date with my blog! I've MISSED you blog! It's been an unbelievable month since I last visited you. Lenny has crashed, so it's just me and you. Unfortunately, I have nothing profound to write about, BUT I am inspired tonight.

So, I’m blog hopping. I’m actually getting a tummy workout from laughing so hard at one blog. Talk about nostalgic. I'm loving the references to Prince and Purple Rain. I’m starting to accept and take pride in the fact that I am a child of the late 80s. This is the part where you’ll do one of three things: smile and reminisce with me, laugh because I’m such a dork, or throw your hands up in despair because I’m such a dork. Here we go.

A Brief List of Things I Remember About the 80s

• Saturday morning cartoons
• Pen pals
• No cell phones
• No internet
• No call waiting
• Skating rink! Couples skate, couples only please, couples only.
• Braces
• Big, permed hair, crimping irons, banana clips – I miss big hair. I always felt like I was accomplishing something with that stuff!
• Neon, slap bracelets, jellies
• Madonna, Prince, Mariah, the Electric Slide, Roxette, Wilson Philips, En Vogue, Lenny Kravitz, and DEF LEPPARD!,Oh yeah, and really awesome R&B music
• Tapes!!!! My “ipod” was a boom box and a massive case of tapes.
• MTV when it was really Music Television
• Dirty Dancing, 90210, Saved by the Bell, and for some reason, I always think of Die Hard. Go ‘head Bruce Willis, get down wit ya bad self.
• Nintendo (yes, I have experienced the brain numbing powers of video games)
• Lots of great friends and lots of time on the phone or visiting them (versus connecting via computer)

Yes, it’s fun to look back and laugh. Holla back 80s peeps! Now let’s move on.

Splatter

It’s been a couple of weeks since my last personal blog entry. I don’t like being away from my blog. So, I’ve given myself a little challenge. It’s very late and I should really be getting some sleep. I have LOTS to do tomorrow. However, I NEED to write. So my challenge is to create this post in ten minutes or less. I’ll apologize in advance for anything it’s lacking, due to less time for thoughtful word choices. For the sake of time, the following bulleted list will be a super swift splatter of some thoughts that have been speeding through my head in the last two weeks. Ready. Set. Go.

• It’s not that I have nothing to write on this blog; it’s just that I am completely and utterly overwhelmed with inspiration, information, heartbreak, happenings, new developments, and emotions. I don’t know where to start.
• My heart hurts. So many people are really, really sick or have passed on. I learned today that a former coworker is terminally ill. I can’t find words. Lump in my throat. He’s a wonderful, wonderful man.
• Lenny is traveling so much. I worry for him. He’s so stressed. I wish there was something I could do to help him with his work.
• Just about all of the females in my family and everyone I went to school with have had babies. I’m 30. Time is passing me by. Plus, my skin has become incredibly oily over the last few months and now I have acne like a teenager. I digress from babies. Nevertheless, all of this worries and frustrates me.
• I don’t call or visit my parents enough. I would be mad at me if I were them. I love you mom and dad.
• The Leadership Summit was awesome. So inspiring. I heard a whisper. DO MORE. I jumped on in. I’m scared to death, but this time, I’ve got my God. Forget the frenzy. Just remember to be drawn along the journey by God.
• The staff retreat was a blessing. I love those people so much that my heart wants to explode. Thank You God for your incredible providence.
• Wow, it’s already been 12 minutes. So much for my little challenge.
• This week has been overwhelming so far. I got to worship TWICE on Sunday. I got to help lead worship Monday night at a tiny little church in Partlow, VA. Tonight, I got to make some more music and prepare for this Sunday. I am filled with worship music and my heart is about to burst. I think I’ll end on that note and with a song. Until next time…

Turning On the Lights and the Mic...Again!

Join us on Saturday night, August 21 at 6:30pm at PCC’s Powhatan campus for our second Summer Saturday Nights open mic night! Coffee-house setting, no pressure, just come share your talents! If you play an instrument, sing, have a band, read poetry, or would even like to display your art, this is for you! Also, children are invited. If your child has a talent to share, please encourage him/her to attend.

• DO I NEED TO BRING MY OWN MUSIC? WILL SOMEONE BE THERE TO ACCOMPANY ME? There will be someone to play piano; however, please contact me no later than Tuesday, August 17, to discuss accompaniment so that we can prepare. You can also bring an accompanist of some sort if you'd like, a track, or sing a cappella.


• WILL THERE BE AN AUDIENCE? Consider this like any other open mic night. There will be food, coffee, and everyone is welcome. It will be incredibly relaxed and a great opportunity to share your talents!


• WILL INSTRUMENTS BE AVAILABLE? SHOULD I BRING MY OWN? We'll have the piano, a drum kit and a basic acoustic guitar (without a pickup). Other than that, bring your own. The sound board will be on and we'll have DI's for guitarists if you don't bring an amp.


• CAN I SING WHATEVER I WANT? Sure! Any style, any genre - it doesn't have to be a "Christian" song. Make it something that you love!

Please contact Lindsay Harris with questions at lindsay@pccwired.net. It’s going to be an awesome Saturday night!

Lindsay...Cupcakes?

Oh snap! That’s right! Lindsay Cookies has expanded into Lindsay Cupcakes. Introducing the original Lindsay S’mores Cupcake. Graham cracker bottom, triple chocolate fudge cake with chocolate chips, and chocolate peanut butter icing with a marshmallow treat under the icing AND on top. I’m drooling just writing about it.

I said I wanted one, so I made one. Actually, I made a bunch. This little cutie wanted his picture taken. Alright, now say goodbye. He won’t last until tomorrow!

Twinge

Music has been a huge part of my life since I was a wee preschooler. I was the weird kid (this is where I expect you to gasp in disbelief, but my gut tells me you’re nodding in agreement). While everyone else played nicely together in the sandbox, I was alone, on the swing set, sailing to and fro as I sang my current favorite song repeatedly. My mom can vouch for this. She often yelled at me for coming home with “black stuff” on the sides of my shorts. “Black stuff” cannot be washed away. I guess black rubber melts off and leaves stains when you swing long enough that your clothing is becoming “one” with the swing. Sorry mom.

So it’s dark out, I’m much older, and there’s no swing set. Instead, tonight, I’m watching Palladia. If you love live concerts and don't get this channel, you’re missing out. Of course, everything is pre-recorded. However, the footage is fantastic and I find myself ready to put on my favorite concert attire, open the windows for that amphitheater “feel,” and start cheering.

This is one of my favorites from tonight. I’ve heard this song many times before. It’s one of the few songs that literally make my heart ache from the moment it starts. It’s not complicated. However, it’s steady rhythm, poignant lyrics, and haunting melody will flood my heart with a bittersweet twinge before my mind has even recalled a memory. I have always been floored at how a song can invoke such a response, so I just thought I’d share…

Frowning on Bedtime

It’s late. I’ll let you in on a secret. While this post will probably be time stamped around 9 or 10pm, it’s actually almost 1am. I haven’t yet figured out why the time stamp is weird. In my haste to create a blog and write my first entry, I probably decided I was on Pacific time.

11pm is the magic hour for me. So, why is it after midnight and why am I still ticking? I hate to go to bed when Lenny’s not here. I don’t know why. Well, yes I do. I hate sleeping alone. Let me rephrase that. I hate sleeping without Lenny. He’s my snuggle buddy. When I don’t want to put my electric socks on, he kindly serves as the warmer of the feet. Lift Lenny, place feet under Lenny, experience incredible warmth while Lenny winces in the darkness and refrains from unkind expletives.

After the feeling returns to my feet and his core temperature has dropped, we continue to dent one side of our mattress by settling in on the same side. That’s right. We could fit a family of four in our bed, but we choose to sleep on the same side. When I’m gone, he holds a pillow. When he’s gone, I just can’t sleep. So, since I am not a fan of watching tv, I find other things to do. Tonight, I’m writing this blog. La la la. I am frowning on bedtime like a kid that doesn’t want to lay down for a nap. Foot stomp (cold foot, that is). Pout. Deep sigh. Not going. Hmmph.

Meet the Kids

News flash…if you don’t already know, Lenny and I do not have human children. We’re now both officially in our thirties and no, we’re not surrounded by drooling babies. I honestly believe that this is by God’s design. We went through a rough patch, our marriage continues to grow stronger, and I’m ever so thankful that kids weren’t caught in the middle of our mess when it was happening. I have nothing against kids. In fact, I’m currently dating a fine fellow named George (otherwise known as “Small”). You can check out George and his lovely family here. Lenny is perfectly fine with this “boyfriend.” In fact, they’ve been seen watching baseball together.

Notice that I said we don’t have human children. I am not ashamed to say that I have two cats and they are like children. If you’re truly going to know me, then it’s time you meet the kids. My mom calls them her “grandcats.” I only have two, so you cannot yet label me the “cat lady.” However, I do love these critters, their little personalities, and the way they have become such a huge part of our family. Meet my kids.

Boo
She is my first-born. Given to us by a friend, we brought her home in 2003 just after Hurricane Isabel. For some odd reason, we named her Isabel and have NEVER called her that. Shortly after she joined us, Usher’s duet with Alicia Keys, “My Boo”, became a hit. I started calling her Boo, Boogie, Boo Nuggets, Boo Boo, and probably many other forms of the name. Boo she became.

She was the only child for two years. Prissy, independent, and incredibly sassy, she became a unique playmate. Nightly, even now, she waits around corners for me to appear and then dashes off, in the hopes that I will chase her. What’s the game? Hide behind the shower curtain and run again when I find her. Next hiding place? The living room window sill, behind the curtains. And then? Hide at the top of the steps. When I creep up the steps, pounce on me. We have repeated this routine over the years. She considers it great fun. I continue to be amazed that this sleek little feline is so smart and gets such joy out of a game.

What else is there to know about Miss Boo? Lenny is her man. She is definitely not a lap cat, but you’ll find her in Lenny’s lap. She occasionally allows him to hold her like a baby, with her head on his shoulder. She loves to drink water out of the bathroom faucet and she often cries for someone to follow her and watch her eat (very strange, but very true). She’ll spend ten minutes munching on food if you watch her. If you leave, she’s done. I love this little odd ball.












Buddy
Oh, Buddy. This little guy is my boy. He is also called Bud-DAY, Butternut Squash, and Buster Douglas. It was midnight, December of 2005, and I had just spent my very first practice with The Great Unknowns. I stopped to get gas at the Shell Station that sits on the Midlothian/Powhatan line. There he sat, eating trash. He was very obviously starving. I had no plans to have a second child and I’m not usually the type to bring home strays. But I spoke to him, and he spoke back. His little teeth were worn down and he had no whiskers. I decided he was coming home with me. And so he did.

I’m fairly certain that he thinks I’m his mother. He follows me everywhere. If there’s not a computer in my lap, then there’s a Buddy in my lap. He gets very annoyed when the space is not available. If I need a break and don’t allow him in my lap, he’ll reach out a paw and touch my shoulder as if to say, “Hey you, you need to pay some attention to me.” He also loves to be held like a baby.





We do not let either of them sleep with us. However, every now and then, when I’m waiting for Lenny to come to bed, I’ll leave the bedroom door open. This little golden ball of fur will hop on the bed, sniff my face, and then lay down right beside me with his head on the pillow. I’ve had other dogs and cats. This is the most unique animal I have ever encountered. If you don’t believe it, come on over and meet him.













I love these critters. I’m hopeful that there will be real children some day. However, these two fur balls will always be my babies. Meow.

My Eyebrows and My Happy Place

I've never been the type of woman that fusses over my nails. I don’t get them done often. However, there’s something incredibly relaxing about sitting in a massage chair with your feet in warm water while someone buffs your fingernails as you chat with a favorite girlfriend. So I indulge myself on rare occasion. Ladies, if you’ve never done it, treat yourself at least once. It’s good for your soul.

Last time I went, they offered to do my eyebrows and rightly so. Eyebrows are another thing I don’t take adequate care of. My eyebrows tend to resemble the forest floor. You know, that area off the beaten path. You would never wander there for fear that some furry, never-before-seen critter will swallow your foot. Granted, no one is going to step on my eyebrows (I hope). Nevertheless, my brows are pretty scary.

Back to the story. They offered to do my eyebrows. I declined. They kept asking if I was sure. My heart sank a little as they reaffirmed what I already knew about the rugged terrain on my face. I declined over and over, as I was already splurging on the nails.

Fast-forward to this past Monday. Lenny and I slept in, had sushi for lunch, and decided to walk around the mall versus heading home to pass out in a food coma. And behold, what do we find in the middle of the mall? An eyebrow threading stand! That’s right, for just a few bucks, you can get your eyebrows threaded in the middle of the mall. Never heard of eyebrow threading? Check it out here. Of course, most sane people would glance briefly at this and keep moving. However, the sodium-laden soy sauce from lunch must have given me an extra dose of looney-tune-like courage.

Lenny looked at me. He’s so kind about my lack of grooming. Yet he looked excited. How cool was this stand? Wouldn’t I like a break from the wildlife on my face? Feeling ever so bold, I agreed. In the middle of the mall, I sat in a chair and smiled as a lady I’ve never met came at my face with some harmless looking thread. She said that it would be similar to plucking, however, the thread would remove more hair at once and with less pain.

I have a high tolerance for pain. So, I wasn’t worried when she mentioned that it might hurt a bit since this was my first threading experience. Then she began. PAIN. Searing, repeated pain. It was like my eyebrows had grown teeth and decided to attack me for what I was doing. There were people gathering to watch before she started, so I was determined to avoid the fetal position and crying like a baby.

Happy place! I had to go to my happy place! It hit me immediately…I have no happy place. I’ve never really needed a happy place. What is my happy place? I thought of my Granny. She always makes me smile. She's so calming and wonderful to be around . But as I pictured her, she was laughing at me. Despite the pain I was trying to forget, I wanted to laugh with her. So, all at once, I was suppressing tears, laughter, and utter disgust with myself for submitting to such torture.

I swear it took her ten minutes to do one eyebrow. I’m sure it was really three minutes, but it felt like ten. She handed me a mirror. I opened my eyes and the tears escaped. No, I wasn’t crying, but the pain had produced waterfalls behind my eyelids that I couldn’t prevent. My one eyebrow looked lovely. The other was growling at me. Nevertheless, I closed my eyes and laughed with Granny for three more minutes.

What’s the point of this story? I’m not sure. Might I try it again? Who knows. Maybe it won't hurt so much the second time. I just know that when my furry facial friends return, I will likely embrace them for a little while and I will never again eat sushi prior to a mall walk.

Friday Night Mindless Nuggets

I have never been so excited about receiving a free mini funnel. It fits in my purse. I’m ecstatic.

I haven't danced in forever. They're playing a Ricky Martin song. 4000 people in the room. I will practice chair dancing with my new friend Samantha.

New Purple Champs. Serving size - 3 to 4 per day. Had 7 while standing in line last night. Yummy. Two days of DHA. I feel so healthy.

Drew Brees. Enough said.

It’s pink. It tastes like lemonade. It’s Spark. And it’s pink. I only knocked over one lady and a small child, but I got my canister. Not really.

Karaoke bar on the walk back. Piano bar. Night clubs. I don’t miss them.

I miss my electric socks. See you soon my favorite fiery feet toasters.

Perspective

For those who don’t know, I market nutrition and wellness products via a company called AdvoCare. I use them, they work, I feel better than ever, and so I share them. I am NOT a salesperson, so no worries. If you want to know about them, I’ll tell you. If you don’t mention them, then I won’t either.

Twice each year, AdvoCare has a huge training conference called Success School in Texas. Thus, I find myself in Texas today. I arrived at 9:00 am and the first session doesn’t begin until 7:37 pm (no, that time is not a typo…it’s a tactic).

I didn’t want to come on this trip. I truly wasn’t in the mood. I love the company. I love the products. I believe in the business model. However, my passion and motivation has become focused elsewhere and what once was a fiery desire to get people healthy is now a heap of smoldering ash. I still go through the motions. I still love helping people. I love seeing that sheepish grin when they succeed. However, I no longer feel the need to preach it and offer health advice with every other utterance out of my mouth.

So, after assaulting my tiny suitcase with scissors this morning when the zipper got stuck, I arrived at the airport rolling a half-empty suitcase big enough for a family of four, full of contempt for the coming weekend and arriving at the gate just as my row was called. I was at least able to crack a smile when I saw two awesome PCC people getting on the same plane.

My mood shifted considerably as we soared over the sleepy-eyed early risers on the ground. Despite the fact that I probably could have zonked out and drooled on the lovely elderly lady next to me, I chose to read a book some of us are studying at PCC, “The Heart of the Artist,” by Rory Noland. I had my Bible on hand as well and for two and a half hours, I dove in.

Upon landing, I felt fed, inspired, and at peace. I’m now looking forward to the next couple of days. I truly believe that this trip was a gift from God. On a plane with over 100 people, I felt like I had some serious “alone time” with Him. I felt reaffirmed, once again, that the choices I’ve made over the last year were what He wanted for me. My motivational "dip" is by design. This trip was not a mistake. I may not be here to “nerd-out” over AdvoCare, but I’m here for a good reason. Can’t wait to see where this weekend leads. Thank you God for the fresh perspective!

The Multicolored Mane - Day 7

Around Christmas time last year, Lenny brought an orchid home for me. It was beautiful. For the horticulturally-challenged, such as myself, I have to say this was the easiest plant I had ever taken care of. Give it three ice cubes once per week and it lives.

Notice I didn’t say it flourishes. It maintained its gorgeous purple flowers for over a month and then the petals fell off. Before I knew it, I had two bare stems and some hearty leaves sticking out of a pot. It was pretty ugly. Lenny was convinced I had murdered another plant. He kept telling me to throw it away. But I couldn’t. As hideous as it was, I had nurtured it and I was not about to give up on it. So, I kept icing it once per week.

A little over a month ago and all of a sudden, little acorn-sized buds started appearing again. Then they got bigger. Take a look at my orchid now…

I don’t understand my orchid’s growth pattern. But I found myself thinking about my orchid today as I reflected back on this week and this series. I started off describing my creativity as some annoying animal that could grow into something fierce. Perhaps. However, as I’ve moved through this week, I’m leaning more toward my orchid versus some animal. It’s alive and vibrant; then it loses its luster for a while.

I wanted to give up on myself earlier this week. After long days, lots of work, and oodles of thoughts tumbling through my mind, the last thing I wanted to do was turn it on again and try to create something late every night. However, giving up would have been failure for me. No matter how ridiculous my ideas or posts were, I couldn’t give up. I knew I could produce something worthwhile. Here’s what I got out of this week:

• It takes time to create. Give yourself room to think, something to look at, tools to express your ideas and something valuable will come of it. It may not be exactly what you set out to accomplish, but that’s the beauty of letting the process work.
• It is a process. In its simplest form, LAMSTAIH. Look-At-More-Stuff, Think-About-It-Harder. To take it further, you can look at stuff and think all day long, but if you don’t get thoughts and ideas out of your head, your brain will swallow them back up.
• Never reject the wacky factor. My favorite part of this past week was spending time with my tree. The whole time I was doing that, I was thinking to myself, “You’re an idiot. It’s a tree.” Now, that tree has a history for me, it means more to me every time I see it, and through a series of thoughts and exercises, I arrived at some art for my office. Who’d have thought? That certainly wasn’t what I set out to accomplish. (PS...my second favorite part of this week was writing a rap song. That's right, go ahead and laugh. It's way cool.)
• You make the rules so don't quit if you falter. I skipped Day 6 for my own health (thus the reason there is no entry). I felt bad about it for 0.2 seconds. However, at 1:30 in the morning, I wasn’t about to make something up for the sake of having an entry. Today was better for it and I still feel good about this past week.

All in all, I’ve got office art, two new songs (my favorite is called Warrior), a list of projects I can continue to work on, and a sense that this was a good thing for me. Thank you for indulging my week-long journey into the abyss that is my mind. Poodles and lions and orchids, oh my! Let’s wrap this up with a goofy picture. I had to break out the lion at some point.

The Multicolored Mane - Day 5

Wow, it's hard to believe it's already Day 5. Today happens to be Tuesday. That's right...I love Tuesdays! But they are busy days, so I'm sitting down very late, once again, to try and get creative (outside of the regular Tuesday meeting).

I spent all day today working on PCC services, team meetings, and upcoming events. So it seemed fitting tonight to think about household items that could potentially be used for set design. I looked around for a while and found this link. I am especially fond of the Plastic Water Bottle Jellyfish. Not that we need a jellyfish on our set; however, seeing everyday items used like this certainly makes you consider your personal items much more carefully.

So, I considered a couple of my own items. I am absolutely NOT an artist. However, here are some possibilities:

Magazine Art - somehow, I have too many magazines laying around my house. This is just an example using 4 magazines. Boring, doesn't seem incredibly creative, but imagine the possibilities if you had enough magazines to choose colors and truly create art? If you crumpled pages to create depth, you could make shapes on a solid background.

Grocery bag bow - again, not incredibly exciting, but I save grocery bags. How could they be tied together or manipulated to make shapes?

Just ideas. Glad to have at least a few today.

The Multicolored Mane - Day 4

Music. I love to look at the word and hear it spoken. I love to listen to it, make it, vocalize it, write it. Today, I did a little bit of all of that. Today was a good day. I don't like to post unfinished work, but hopefully I'll have at least one to share before the week's out.

For now, I'm off to spend some time with my Lenny. He's heading to Chicago in the morning and we'll cross paths briefly Thursday night before I head to Texas for a three-day conference. So the only thing I'll post tonight is a favorite. Love to hear it, play it, sing it.

The mic will be on; we just need YOU...

Join us on June 26 at 7:00pm at PCC’s Powhatan campus for our first Summer Saturday Nights open mic night! Coffee-house setting, no pressure, just come share your talents! If you play an instrument, sing, have a band, read poetry, or would even like to display your art, this is for you!

•DO I NEED TO BRING MY OWN MUSIC? WILL SOMEONE BE THERE TO ACCOMPANY ME? There will be someone to play keys; however, please let us know what you need accompaniment for in advance so we can prepare. You can also bring an accompanist of some sort if you'd like, or a track, or sing a cappella.

•WILL THERE BE AN AUDIENCE? Consider this like any other open mic night. There will be food, coffee, and everyone is welcome. It will be incredibly relaxed and a great opportunity to share your talents!

•WILL INSTRUMENTS BE AVAILABLE? SHOULD I BRING MY OWN? We'll have the piano, a drum kit and a basic acoustic guitar (without a pickup). Other than that, bring your own. The sound board will be on and we'll have DI's for guitarists if you don't bring an amp.

•CAN I SING WHATEVER I WANT? Sure! Any style, any genre - it doesn't have to be a "Christian" song. Make it something that you love!

Please contact Lindsay Harris with questions at lindsayh28@gmail.com. It’s going to be an awesome Saturday night!

The Multicolored Mane - Day 3

I am learning to do what I said I would do. LAMSTAIH. Look-At-More-Stuff, Think-About-It-Harder. This afternoon, I was exhausted. We had an awesome morning of worship at PCC, I had lunch with my dad and my sister, and by 3:30pm, I wanted to crash.

However, I was determined to make some real progress on this project, so instead of curling up with the cat for a Sunday afternoon nap, I decided to think about what inspires me. Don't worry...I have not prepared another list. My immediate thought was the tree in my back yard. LAMSTAIH. I stepped outside with my camera, my crayons and some paper, and I went to work. Take a look at this magnificent thing that sits just outside my back door.

Here's what I learned about my tree today:

• It's a Willow Oak. Some would call it a Pin Oak due to its leaves, but I believe that is incorrect.
• It's over 100 years old. While the only true way to determine the age of a tree is to cut it down and count its rings, you can also get a rough estimate by measuring the circumference of the tree and doing some calculations based on a growth rate. So, what the heck. I did it. The exact number was 126, so for rounding purposes, I'll just say it's over 100.

I sat for over an hour, just studying and thinking about this tree. What has it seen? If it's truly over 100 years old, what was standing here in the early 1900s? Here sits this source of life, beauty, shelter; but has it ever caused pain? Branches fall. Some have already fallen in the year that we've lived here. How many different people in different stages of their lives have sat with this tree?

I decided to draw a tree. I'd say I drew my backyard tree, but I am not an artist and I'm not that talented. Mine looks more like a palm tree. Nevertheless, I created it today and I will not be ashamed (no laughing):

As I was looking at and thinking about this tree, it crossed my mind that this had absolutely nothing to do with any of the goals I listed yesterday. And then it came to me. There are so many beautiful things right within my grasp. Why not take pictures and see if I can create some art for my office? I was off and running. Here's one of my favorites from today. I am no photographer. However, my office will be very personal to me, so I just might hang this up. I'm on my way to meeting at least one of my goals. LAMSTAIH worked. Today was a good day!

The Multicolored Mane - Day 2

I want my blog to be fun to read. Right now, I’m finding this series incredibly annoying and that makes me sad. I already gag at the name of it (but I’m sticking with it). I was not thrilled with yesterday’s final entry. I had big plans for today, I was going to put time into this, but plans changed and time is running out. I’m sitting here, it’s late (for this old lady), I want to create, do something fabulous, be able to look back at this and say, yes! That project was a success right from the start. But my eyes are tired and I’m determined to get in bed at a decent hour tonight so I’ll be ready for worship tomorrow. That gives me about 15 minutes to do something.

My dad came to visit today. He loves to cook. He’d much rather have dinner at home than go out. So, I cooked him dinner. Steak, baked potatoes, grilled mushrooms and eggplant, and roasted asparagus. It was dang good. So I can say that I created dinner (Lenny manned the grill, so I must give him credit also). Not only that, but I’ve already prepped lunch for tomorrow: I marinated the honey mustard pork chops, washed the sweet potatoes, trimmed my spinach. It used to be a challenge for me to boil water. Now I feel like a kitchen guru. That makes me happy.

So, back to this series. I feel like I need some goals. That’s my “big” accomplishment for today: a list of goals that I will use to spur some serious creativity over the remaining five days:

• What else could I name this series?
• Items around the house(anybody’s house) that can be used for set design at PCC
• My own personal logo
• I want black & white art for my office – can I create it?
• Can I write a song?
• Can I draw my lion as a memory of this project?
• My master bathroom is incredibly tiny and cluttered. Can I figure out a way to create more storage space using stuff I already own?

Not a terrible list, but enough with the lists. I’m excited to start tomorrow.

As goofy as it is, I’m including a creation here anyway. Pointless? Yes, for now. However, the following collage is a tribute to being circular, not square. These are a few circular things I found in my house.

The Multicolored Mane - Day 1.0

Whew! Today was difficult. This IS an exercise in improving my creativity, so I'm not going to be too hard on myself for not feeling ecstatic about today. So, here goes...

On my trip to the store today, I tried to notice EVERYTHING. Here are my notes:

1. Clouds. They're like art. They're like snowflakes. No two are the same.


2. My car makes a wha-wha-wha sound - perhaps something wasn't attached right when I had my tires rotated yesterday?


3. Tires are circles. There are so many circular things. Not-so-creative people are considered "square." I will try to remain circular.


4. Do you know how many objects, signs, etc. you can find a cross in? Give it a try.


5. A 4-way stop is an exercise in being polite. What a great way to practice patience.


6. While unsuccessfully fishing a pen out from in between my seats and thinking of odd items I have in my purse that could help, I wondered, how many things have I "rigged" up in my life time. Hmmm. A quick one that came to mind for my musician friends...I've cut a Food Lion MVP card (key chain size) in half to make a guitar pick. Worked quite well.


7. I love the smell of sweets baking. Other things I like the smell of: my cat (she always smells like peanut butter...creepy), new tires, new home, new car, permanent markers, Febreeze, roasted nuts, coffee, Carabbas.


8. How can we use smell to stimulate ideas?


9. Grocery shopping is almost the same as driving to the store, except there are 4-way stops everywhere you turn. I was thrilled with how patient and polite the shopper traffic was today.


10. There are so many logos out there. If I had my own logo, what would I want it to look like? Hmmm...perhaps I will pursue this one later.

So, not sure that I accomplished anything today. However, I did look at lots of stuff. Did I think about it very hard? Well, I at least got the wheels turning.

The Multicolored Mane - Day 0.5

Every Tuesday, I am blessed to spend the morning with Beth Brawley Stoddard, Brian Hughes, Jackie Heberle, Lori Vaughn, and sometimes other folks, as we brainstorm, pull together PCC services, and make everything "click" for the week. I'm still awed by this process. Sometimes I'm able to contribute and sometimes I just observe as ideas are tossed on the table like puzzle pieces until we can make the right ones fit. When they fit, the entire team smiles, "gets it," and we’re off and running to make it happen. It’s awesome, amazing, and I LOVE TUESDAYS.

On Tuesdays, my creativity is unleashed. That sounds so powerful. Unleashed implies a roaring lion. Right now, my creativity is more like a yippy little poodle. My point is that, I feel liberated on Tuesdays. I LOVE embracing my right brain, throwing in some color, stepping outside the “lines” so to speak. I want so badly to vaporize my creative poodle and replace it with a fabulous lion with a beautiful, multicolored mane. (Hey, it’s my lion. It can be whatever color it wants to be.)

I think I can do that. I take that back…I KNOW I can do that. And I invite you on a short journey with me. Let me give you the background…

When I was getting my MBA, we were required to take a creativity course. Every week we saw, heard, experienced something different. We also had to keep a journal, but not just any journal. It had to be creative. It couldn’t be just words written about the day’s events. I jumped into this like my life depended on it. I left that course more convinced than ever that I am right-brained, I am creATIVE, I AM MEANT TO BE DOING SOMETHING OTHER THAN MATH, SCIENCE, BUSINESS, SOMEBODY LET ME OUT! Uh-em. Moving on.

This blog has been one of my attempts at tuning my creative engines. But I’ve let it slip over the last month. Inspired by this awesome blog series from Beth Brawley Stoddard, I’m starting a 7-day project today. The goal? To force me to keep my eyes open, be creative, LAMSTAIH.

That’s right, LAMSTAIH. Look-At-More-Stuff, Think-About-It-Harder. That’s from the class, not from me. It works. I don’t know what I’ll post here yet, but I’m calling it The Multicolored Mane. Why? Because it makes me smile and I love that picture in my head.

My posts this week could be incredibly wacky, make absolutely no sense at all, or perhaps inspire. I may cheat and pull in some stuff from my old journal, but always with a new twist. I may use all KINDS of mediums, from others’ blogs, to videos, to pictures, to random thoughts. So, look for the first one this evening. For now, I’m off to the grocery store.

What a Week

It’s not over yet, but what a week. Lenny took some much needed vacation from work and has been off since last Friday. We spent last Friday through Monday visiting my grandmother, aunt & uncle, and three cousins at Myrtle Beach. A vacation trip masked as a visit to grandma? I think not.

We spent exactly one hour on the beach. We did play putt-putt, eat at a seafood buffet, and visit the outlets. However, the majority of our time was spent eating Granny’s home-cooking and just visiting with family. Oh how I have missed my Granny! Last time I saw my cousins, they were in high school. Now, the oldest has graduated from college, the next just started college, and the youngest just finished seventh grade, is almost 13 but looks 18, and is a whiz kid.

That was just our long weekend. Tuesday was our eighth anniversary. Simple, but incredibly sweet. We made the 7am PCC planning meeting, caught a rerun of Criminal Minds at home, worked a little, had lunch, caught a movie, had a late dinner and talked forever, and just enjoyed being together. We had a similar day today. Tomorrow, we might make a day trip to VA Beach.

My Lenny is the most important person in my life, my best friend. To spend so much time with him this week has been such a blessing. I’ll be baptized on Sunday. Lenny will stand with me as I publicly tell the world that Jesus is my Lord. Our lives have changed SO dramatically in the last year. And it’s all because of our precious God. My heart is swelling just thinking about it. WHAT A WEEK.

Conversations with Jesus

I am on a journey to build my relationship with God. Everything finally clicked for me last August. I remember exactly where I was. All of a sudden, it was like God pulled back the curtain and said, “Look what I did for you.” It brought me to my knees and my life has not been the same since. I thank Him every day for that moment.

However, my biggest struggle over the past months has been feeling close to Him. As a child, I was taught to bow my head and pray. Whether it was taught directly or I learned it from reading and the general idea that God is “up there” in heaven, I always felt like I was praying or talking to someone unreachable. It never felt real.

I wrestled with this a lot as I tried to start praying again late last year. I saw God working every day. I watched people talk so passionately about their relationship with Jesus. I learned that we can talk to Jesus and He will relay our joy, love, praise, and concerns to God. I knew He was there. He just felt so out of reach for me personally. I finally confided in Lenny about this a couple of months ago. What he said felt so profound, though it was so simple.

He told me a story he had read about a man who had always felt that prayer was “over his head.” He didn’t know how to do it and didn’t feel comfortable with it. He was encouraged by a friend to sit down, place an empty chair in front of him, and picture Jesus sitting in the chair. Then, just have a conversation with Jesus.

Wow…it had never occurred to me. He is with me, not necessarily above me. So, I started trying. In the car, Jesus was my passenger. Sitting up in bed at night, cross-legged, He was my friend sitting the same way, at the end of the bed, leaning in to listen and share in my joy and pain. Walking into an uncomfortable situation, He was my Father, walking by my side, lending me His ear and letting me pour out my fear and concern.

Not only has this become easier, but it has become essential. I am finally feeling the closeness I craved and it is very real. Jesus is with me everywhere I go and I always look forward to our conversations. He’s my driver, passenger, friend and Savior. Today was the best day I’ve had with Him yet…and we’ll talk again tomorrow.

I LOVE MY SISTER

I love my sister, Lauren. She’s six years younger than me. She’s gorgeous, opinionated, and knows how to take care of herself. We are so different. I’ve always been the quiet one, the people-pleaser, teacher’s pet. She was always the rebellious one, determined to get her way, the one with the devilish smile (she’s the evil looking one in the picture below, LOL). Yes, you’re welcome to make fun of the hair. We’ve heard it before. Did I mention that Lauren has the best hair in the world? I was always jealous of her hair.

I remember how annoying she was when we were growing up. She wanted to be everywhere I was. I wanted the exact opposite. She was so cute. So sassy. A sure firecracker. We had many heated arguments, we slapped each other around; we were the types of siblings that fight and claw our way to a loving, sisterly relationship.

We’ve both been through some terrible times already. We’ve both fiercely defended each other and taken care of each other during those times. I love knowing that, even when I’m at my worst, my sister will love me. I love knowing that, no matter where her life takes her or what joy and struggle may await her, I’ll love her as well.

I love knowing that she looks like mom, I look like dad, but people so often say, “Are you sisters?” I love it that, if she answers my phone, people can’t tell our voices apart. I have a picture of her that I kept on my desk when I worked in an office. I had to put her name on the picture because so many people kept asking if it was a picture of me (who would put a picture of themselves on their own desk?). I love that. I love all the little things that make her different, like the fact that she’s not crazy about pizza or chocolate. She adores animals. She’s broken her arm eleventy-flaven times. She has a crazy arm for softball and is an excellent writer. She can play the piano by ear. She can sing…she just won’t. ;o) She’s always supported me and been proud of me, even when it was she who needed the support.

I just got off the phone with her today and had this overwhelming need to talk about how much I love her. She works at a bank just five minutes from my house. Some days, she’ll come to the house to have lunch with me. Just about every day, she calls me during her lunch break. I love talking to her. I love knowing that we are fortunate enough to talk this often, to live in the same town, to be getting older together.

I know things will change eventually. She may decide she wants to live elsewhere, she may get married, who knows. But I will always love her dearly and look forward to seeing her face, hearing her voice, and experiencing the utter joy of having her as a sister.

Happiness Machine

Thanks Chuck Vickers, pastor at Stokesland Baptist in Danville, VA (my hometown)...he posted this video on his Facebook page today. Not only did it make me smile first-thing this morning, but it immediately made me think about our upcoming series at PCC - Free Stuff - Getting into the Radical Generosity of God (the series graphic, shown here, was created by our very own Beth Brawley Stoddard - she's so awesome!).

What if, in place of this machine, God was standing there handing out free stuff? Isn't He already? Why aren't we all gathering around, rejoicing, and laughing like children? I know for me, personally, I fall short all the time because my priority becomes MY day and MY list of things to do. ME

In reality, it's all HIS. It's all about HIM. Every bit of it...and He's turned it all over to us. Giggle. Get excited. Tell somebody else. Guess what else...if you think about it, we're all happiness machines. I don't want to wait for someone to pay me before I dole out some joy, before I tell them about God's ultimate gift. I'm working on being generous!

I'm so excited about our upcoming series. We start this week, May 9. I hope you can join us!

Naming the Firstborn

This is my first real blog. Not that I've written a fake one. However, I'm not itching to share my only other attempt.

I love to write. My thoughts move much faster than my mouth. Luckily, I can tap the keys almost as quickly. Conclusion: keep mouth shut...blogging is for peeps like me!

I like to plan things. So, I thought carefully about the topic of my first blog. It was supposed to be about creativity and how I hope to use this blog to expand my creativity, blah, blah blah.

Then I had to setup this account and actually name my blog. I laughed so hard through this process that I decided I'd write about. I'll try not to write a book. However, my thoughts are SPEEDING.

I wanted my blog name to be meaningful, catchy, and something I wouldn't look at in three weeks and wonder what the heck I was thinking. I love the word "puddle." I started with "Puddles of Love." Gag...plus the name was taken. Thank you person that took that name.

This blog will likely be a creative outlet for me and a place to dump my very random thoughts. So, I recalled our small group discussion last night about what it's like inside my head (yes, somehow that was a topic of conversation). My wonderful husband proceeded to bang his hands together and ask everyone if they remembered the toy monkey with the cymbals. Ha ha. Very funny.

So, I tried "Monkey Cymbals." Bingo. It was available. Of course it was. It will make me cringe every time I see it. Next please. "Crash of the Monkeys." Yep, also available. However, I wasn't rejoicing. There's something about referencing monkeys in your blog title that screams "weirdo."

My brain is like swiss cheese. Thus, the thoughts that will fall through the holes into this blog. So, I looked up something more elegant than swiss cheese. How about "Holy Jeans." Play on words, cute, explainable. Also TAKEN. That's ok, you can have it. Not thrilled with it. Slight gag factor.

So, what about my favorite words. I love the word "critter" for some reason. I love biscuits. "Critter Biscuits." Also available. I'm still laughing. Funny, but not really. I must be getting sleepy.

Then it HIT me. Thank you my dear food-loving friend, Holly. At Christmas, I made these funky little cookies with Fiber One cereal. Chocolate Chips, Fiber One, and Peanut Butter. They're tasty, look a bit like reindeer droppings, and we called them Fiber One cookies. That name is really NOT fun. So, Holly renamed them Lindsay Cookies. Cute. I laughed. But it just came back to me. Presumptuous to use my name in my blog title? I dunno. Not sure I care right now. Perhaps I will in three weeks.

The firstborn blog has a name folks. Say hello to "Lindsay Cookies." Stay tuned for the next batch (gag).