Faith, Hope, and Love

So... I've figured out 63 things to add to my 1001 list . Thanks to Texas Monthly . Apparently they've done issues like this here and there in the past. And maybe, if I find the time and go through all of them, they can help me add to my list. I forgot I bought this one and just found it as I was packing and purging my apartment. And reading through it again, I probably don't have 63 things on my list because while I do want to take the ultimate road trip from Dalhart, Texas to Brownsville, Texas (apparently nearly 850 miles!), I do not really want to play Chicken Sh*t Bingo in Austin. Nor do I want to eat calf fries. And since I don't like beer or Dr. Pepper, I'd be willing, but highly reluctant to drink a free beer at the K. Spoetzl Brewery in Shiner or drink a Dublin Dr. Pepper. And then some things I've already done. Like visiting the State Fair of Texas in Dallas (duh, that's my hometown! or region... Fort Worth is really home). And while ...

I'm in the process of packing up my stuff to get ready for my move in a few weeks and I've been unearthing quite a few things that have brought back tons of memories and tons of laughs. One thing I seem to have a surplus of is notebooks, notepads and journals. One I recorded interview notes from my active journalism days. Ones I wrote down plays or Biblical vignettes for church. And of course, the journals with all my thoughts and dreams. I found my most recent journal. The last entry was dated a year ago. It's incomplete. I'm not sure why I never finished it. Although, it doesn't really surprise me that I didn't. But reading over this last entry made me smile... A year ago, I was offered my teaching job at YES. And much like with my magazine job, it all worked out at the last-minute. A blessing poured out when I was ready to give up. The job at CURE came right on the heels of my internship with the Dallas Morning News. I remember, it was ...

The short burst of fun and excitement, bookmarked between stretches of infinite boredom, a constant reminder of the loneliness. Distant friends, and nearby strangers. Unshared sorrows, broken heart. Hollow laughter masking hidden sobs. Solitude is overrated.

I own a lot of books. The four bookshelves in my apartments are almost completely full, and this does not count the ones I have stacked on my desk, the piano or the floor. These also do not include the five bookshelves I took to my classroom, or the half a dozen or more milk crates I've converted into book storage. In both places, I've run out of space... and I just keep buying more books. I can't help myself. It's like an addiction. When I'm feeling blue, the best pick-me-up is going on Amazon and with one click, filling my basket. It's even better to walk into an actual bookstore, flip the pages, and take in that new-book smell. I've had to ban myself from both in recent weeks. While my bank account is thanking me, my habit isn't. The funny thing, perhaps, is that I actually haven't read all the books I own. I'm like a collector that way, I suppose. I buy books just to have them... although, unlike a collector, I actually do wa...

I haven't been to church in what feels like, and probably is,  months . I just got tired of church hopping. After living in Houston for almost a year, I had been to at least eight different churches. And while there were a few churches I went to for weeks at a time, I hated the awkward, out-of-place feeling I had while there. I just wanted the whole thing to be over with. I just wanted to belong somewhere. And then one Sunday, there was an excuse not to go visit a new church or go to an old one. Can't remember what it was. But oh, what a slippery slope that became. Suddenly there was an excuse for every Sunday. I was out of town. I didn't feel well. I was going to be late. And then the day came when I decided, why bother until I know where I'm going to live next? I was ready to put an end to the church hopping routine and settle down, but I couldn't do that until I was settled, right? If my dad ever reads this, I know he'll be appalled. As would probably my...

I still have weeks before I get the keys and can move into my new place... but that doesn't mean I can't dream of all the things I'll do to it once I get there! Headboard is Big Project #1 . But another thing I'll definitely need to work on is the bathroom. Cause, it's tiny . Yup... that's it. Super narrow and not a lot of space for anything besides what's already in there. There is a small linen closet (which you can't see), and there is a little bit of storage space under the sink, but that's more or less it. So, I'll need to utilize the wall space as much as possible. Solution #1: Creative and Space-Saving Storage I have tons of little buckets already, and tend to buy more from the $1 aisle at Target all the time (they are just too cute to resist!). And since there really is no counter space in the bathroom and the vanity/medicine cabinet isn't really usable, I thought this was a fun and cute solution. That fits my style, too. ...

It's so easy for me to put things on the back burner in my life. Even if they are important to me. It's what I've done with playing the piano. Off and on lessons since I was six, a whole year of lessons in college, some months in grad school... and now I'm in group lessons. Am I any good? I wouldn't say so. Which is what frustrated me. And why it is easy for me to put practicing on the back burner. I mean, I'm never going to be a prodigy pianist and I'll probably never wow anyone with my skills with Tchaikovsky. But... I miss playing. Which is why I'm taking lessons again. And while my longing to play might stem from nostalgic memories of Mrs. Potter's home recitals, that longing is still there. Now that I'm taking classes again, I still probably don't practice as much as I should though. Having a roommate made me nervous to play and make mistakes in her presence. And even making mistakes on my own is frustrating and I feel angry and asham...

I grew up in the church. My dad was my very first pastor. He gave me my first Bible. He baptized me. Most of my childhood was spent living in (or very close) to a seminary and therefore between home and church, I was surrounded by other Christians. In fact, it probably wasn't until I hit high school that I had any close friends who didn't believe in Christ and didn't go to church every Sunday (and most likely on Wednesdays, too). I don't really remembered the day I definitely asked Christ into my life. Although, I do remember something about a 5,000 piece puzzle. Walking into our bedroom and watching sunlight filter onto the unfinished piece, illuminating it in a way I thought was beautiful. Somewhere in that moment, I knew. There definitely was a God and I wanted Him to make me just as beautiful. Whether that's a figment of my overactive imagination, or how I really came to "accept Christ," I really don't know. But I do know that over the yea...

I have a friend who keeps an ongoing "bucket list." Her name is Lizzie. She's quite eccentric for barely being over 25, but that's one of the things I love most about her. In her life it seemed that every day was a dream being lived out and fulfilled. She made plans... and she executed them. I always got a slight chills whenever she'd pull out her journal full of things she planned to do before she died. And I'd love listening to some of the bizzare things, as well as the mundane ones she had written down. The chills came whenever she was checking things off. I noticed a similar "bucket list" of sorts on a blog I follow... allison writes: 101 in 1001 . And now I really want to make a list of things I'd love to have done by the time I'm 30, or 40, or just before I'm dead, haha. At the moment, I can't think of much. So... wanna help? Leave me a comment with some things you think I should add to my list. Adventures. Travels. Creati...

In exactly a month, I'll be getting the keys to my new apartment. And I can't wait . It's in the Heights, which is one of my favorite neightborhoods in Houston. The houses have such old charm and I love the bright exterior colors. There are some newer builds, too, but even they have quite a level of charm. I drove some friends around the neighborhood over the weekend and we "oohed" and "ahhed" at the wrap-around porches and the stately exteriors. Example of a Heights Home My little home lacks the same level of charm on the outside, but once I saw the inside I was sold. It's hardwood floors throughout, which are old and in some parts a little uneven, but obviously in good condition. And while the bathroom is kind of tiny/narrow and there isn't a lot of cabinet space in the kitchen... it's a place I can make home . And home isn't something I've had... well, since 2006. The other day, my brother compared me to a Fulani. I...