Bring on the Belly Rub.

There's always been one topic I never approach with anyone: politics. I have always seen it as far too controversial to ever bring up in a conversation. For the most part, it's a pretty avoidable topic of discussion.

Don't worry, this blog isn't about politics!

At about 25 weeks pregnant, I'm realizing that pregnancy is a completely unavoidable topic of conversation. Not only that, but it is extremely controversial. Everyone has their own opinion of what you should do and how you should do it. They'll tell you about it whether you've asked or not. I try to take most advice with a smile, a nod, and a response along the lines of, "I'll keep that in mind, thank you." Each topic has a positive and negative side. It's like The Force: light and dark. Without one there cannot be the other. Still, there's one topic that only seems to receive negative attention.

That topic is the bump rub.
I'm here to bring balance to the bump rub.

I have never had much of a personal bubble. I'm a hugger. I like to snuggle animals. Sometimes, I stand uncomfortably close to people. The idea of someone getting in "my space" has never really bothered me. The week before Jim and I left for Louisville, plenty of people were asking me if I was ready for all of the belly rubbing that was sure to take place. Of course I was ready! I understand that most women see it as an invasion of their privacy. Me? It's a trivial matter. I had been fairly ambivalent to the excess touching up until my trip to the Farmer's Store today. Today my apathetic attitude towards the bump rub turned into one of positivity and welcoming...and here's why.

I hate my bump. I absolutely hate it. I make jokes about it, and I know it's only going to get bigger...but I don't like it. Unlike the rest of the world, I don't find it cute. It's not that I don't want to be pregnant. I really have no qualms with it. I'm not terribly uncomfortable. I've been blessed thus far with a very standard pregnancy. I can't wait to meet my little girl. But this bump? Nuh uh. Don't like it. Not. A. Fan.

So why, if I hate my bump so much, do I love the belly rubbing? Because of the joy that it brings those around me. While I was in line at the check-out at the Farmer's Store, one of the cashiers saw my growing belly. She hopped out from behind her lane and came over to rub my stomach. It was the first time I realized how much happiness that small action brings to others. I may not love my bump, but they do! I'm not sure exactly why people get so excited about rubbing a stomach, but I like being able to put that smile on their face. I will take the belly rubbing over the unwanted, opinionated advice any day.

There's a lot of harsh words that float around the internet when it comes to rubbing the belly. I understand that it's a personal choice. I'm not here to try and tell women to lighten up, or convince them to let people touch their belly. Everyone has a different view on personal space. Instead I come bearing this message: if you love preggo bellies then feel free to love on mine. I love that you love the belly! My favorite part of being pregnant is being able to share it with those around me. And maybe, just maybe, this will begin to bring balance to the belly force.

The Rantings of Preggers: "My Husband is Competent" Edition.

Recently we got a kitten. His name is Harley, and he's become a well-loved member of our family. He's a snuggle bug. I really don't know if it's Jim, Packer, or me who loves him most.

Seriously, look at that that. Snuggle buddies for life.

And no, I'm not writing an entire blog about a kitten. When people find out that Jim and I have this new kitten, their first response is usually, "How can you have a kitten? You can't scoop the litter when you're pregnant." This might seem like a normal question. In fact, it's a valid question. When you are pregnant they encourage you not to scoop litter to avoid any issues with toxoplasmosis.

So why does that silly question bother me so much? It irritates me because when people give unsolicited comments about pregnancy they all seem to center around one common theme: people must forget that I am married. Either that, or they believe that Jim is incapable of helping out around the house.

It's true that I don't scoop our cat litter; Jim scoops it. We believe in a division of labor. I absolutely understand that there are many women who do all the housework while their husbands work. It's great! However, we are not that family. Jim and I both do work around the house, and to be completely honest he does more work now that I'm pregnant. I am incredibly thankful for that.

Women do most of the work when it comes to pregnancy; that's no secret. It's a nine-month process of making another human! Maybe this is why people forget that husbands and new dads are just as responsible for the little tyke as the mother is. I have no scientific proof of this. It is merely speculation.

I think these comments are more frustrating when they come from the mouths of medical professionals. I was given a look of absolute horror when I told my nurse practitioner that I was going to pump and bottle-feed our baby. "Oh no," she said, "then you won't get the bonding experience with baby." Why can't Jim get the bonding experience with baby? Why should it just be me? I know so many dads that love the feeding time with their little ones. It can be a quiet bonding time for them as well.

I wish that people would stop forgetting about these Dads and Dads-to-be. Frankly, I find it not only insulting to them, but to their wife. It feels like a slightly nicer way of saying, "oh, you are married to an incompetent male." Ish! I'm in no way trying to berate single-parent households. Everything works differently for everyone! Since I have a job, I'm simply not home every day to accomplish everything by myself. In our lives, we have the ability to co-parent, and I'm extremely proud of the fact that I'm married to someone who's willing to share the labor.

No, I don't scoop my kitty litter. Yes, I asked Jim what he was thinking for nursery colors. Yes, Jim helped me work on our baby registry. Maybe I inherited this attitude from my parents. They were both equally involved in raising Kate and I, as well as doing things around the house. This topic probably irritates me more than it should due to the crazy hormones. Who knows, am I right?

I'm so honored and excited that Jim is eager to be a dad, and do all of the things that come along with that. I just hope that everyone else can get excited about that too! He's ready to do the caring, and he's got our boys to back-up on the protecting. I mean, come on, how could you not put your faith in these faces? 

Nerd: Not What You Love, but How You Love It.

 This post was inspired by what is one of the most important videos I have viewed on YouTube in quite some time. I will post it below, and I encourage you to watch it for yourself. It's only about 4 minutes long. Even though it is titled "Why It's Awesome to be a Nerd", this video is about more than that. So, nerd or not, give it a view.

Also, I just want to point out that one definition for "Nerd" is: "a single-minded expert in a particular technical field."

 

 I've posted this video on Facebook before, but I found it again and felt like I should just write a bit about it. Now, being a nerd, this video speaks volumes to be. For those of you who are wondering who this Wil Wheaton fellow is and why he's wearing a heinously gauche scarf, I can explain. I grew up knowing him as Wesley Crusher from Star Trek TNG, but he's appeared in many other films and television shows. His scarf is a hand-knitted replica of the Fourth Doctor's scarf from Doctor Who.

Wesley Crusher

Fourth Doctor

  

Now that I'm pregnant, I definitely worry sometimes about how to approach the idea of being "different" with my child. I know it's okay but unfortunately I don't represent the entire world. People, especially kids, can be mean. If my kid ends up being the most popular kid in school, awesome. However, having two nerdy parents, I'm not banking on that reality. In this video there are lessons that I think everyone should take into consideration. It doesn't matter what your age is, or what your social status is. Here's how I see it:

Lesson One: "Everything worth doing is hard." - This comes at the end of the video and it is often an important thing that is forgotten in my generation, and the generations after mine. We come from the land of the easy. As a person who loves to read, I get sort of mad when people say, "I just watch the movies because reading is hard." That's what makes it worth doing. The amount of time and effort you put into something generally reflects what you get out of it. Sports are hard. Maintaining a friendship is hard. Being a cooperative family is hard. Shopping for the perfect shoe is hard. Explaining the Vulcan-Human relationship is hard. Working towards something means that it is worth doing to you. Having things handed to us doesn't show us how to appreciate the value of these things.

Lesson Two: "Don't let anyone tell you that the thing that you love is a thing you can't love." - We all love different things. Your age, gender, social status, culture, and society are not things that get to dictate what you love. Love comes from within us, not from the world around us. As Wil Wheaton says, "It might be sports, it might be science, it might be reading, it might be fashion design, it might be building things, it might be telling stories or taking pictures. It doesn't matter what it is. The way you love that, and the way that you find OTHER people that love it the way you do, is what makes being a nerd awesome." It's how you choose to love things that make them so amazing.

Lesson Three: "We can be around people that love things the way that we love them." - The hardest part about pouring our hearts into the things we love is that makes us open to criticism. The beautiful part is that you are never alone. You will never be the only person on Earth to love something. Sports fans congregate to games and tailgating parties. Fashion fans flock to NYFW. There are weekend concert events for almost any type of music. Nerds, of course, have Comi-con. Find people that love the things you love. The World will be a less lonely place.

Lesson Four: "I want you to be honest, honorable, kind." - This shouldn't take any explanation. If everyone started to practice this more, the world would be a better place. Not only that, but maybe we could see that it's okay to love things whole-hardheartedly. It's okay to pour our hearts into something; that is what makes us human.

I hope that this video and subsequent blog weren't just me ranting and raving about something nerdy that I find fabulous (because, let's be honest, that is something that I would do). I don't think that this should just apply to the stereotypical "nerds" of the world, but to the nerds of all kinds. Book nerds, sports nerds, fashion nerds...it doesn't matter. Being a nerd isn't about what you love, it is about the way you love it. To me, there is nothing better in the world.

Death, Sermons, and The Whole Beautiful Mess.

This week has been a whirlwind. It all started on Tuesday when Frank approached me and asked if I wouldn't mind preaching for our LaRoKi conference on Thursday. I said I would, thinking it wouldn't be too bad. Frank then responded with, "Great! Then you can preach on Sunday too!" I wasn't exactly thrilled. I started working on writing that day. It wasn't long before I realized I was very stuck.

Wednesday I continued to chug along at my sermon. After around 4 rewrites, 3 calls to my dad, and a final send-off to Frank, my sermon was fairly finished. I could breathe. Was it perfectly written? No. Would it work? Hopefully. I could finally turn my focus towards the rest of the day's events: confirmation and the Nate Houge concert. Both went off seamlessly. Watching Nate perform was quite a treat. He had a great mix of humor and music: those are my favorite things in life. However, my evening took an unfortunate turn. I received word from my dad that Jim Bailie, a beloved member of the church I grew up in, had passed away. I was stunned. There will be more on that later in this blog.

Thursday I was able to preach at the LaRoKi conference without any issues. We had a great program with lots of meaningful and interesting discussion. After an awesome lunch, we returned home. That evening I, along with Kate and Frank, attended the Outrageous Faith event at The Fritz in Grand Forks. It was just an amazing experience. The music was fabulous, and Nadia Bolz-Weber spoke with honestly and eloquence. I hadn't been to an event like that in ages. It was quite a feeling. After all the stress of the past couple days, it was nice to sit back and enjoy the program. Plus, I got to see the Chester Fritz Auditorium for the first time. I'd heard so many stories from my dad that it felt like putting a face to a person.

Friday was a day of melancholy. I have nothing to add about Friday, except that it was Friday. So, it had that going for it.

Saturday was a day spent thinking about what I was missing back in NKY. My parents had the opportunity to attend the funeral for Jim Bailie, and I felt stuck. I wanted to be there. I wanted to go and support a family, and a man, who always supported those around them. All I could do was watch people post their memories, wishes, and prayers on Facebook. I sat there, waiting for the "stuck" feeling to turn into sadness. I waited for tears. Those things never came. What happened instead was an oddly calm feeling, and I found myself smiling.

Jim was one of those people that did nothing but spread joy. He never had a bad word about anyone, and he could joke with the best of them. He raised three amazing young men, but had the softest heart you could ever imagine. It sounds cheesy, but Jim was the epitome of 1 Corinthians 13:4-8. You know, the "love is patient, love" is kind verse that they always read at weddings? If you replace the word "love" with "Jim Bailie", that is what you get. He was patient, kind, did not envy, did not boast, and was not proud. He did not dishonor others. He wasn't self-seeking, easily angered, and he kept no record of wrongs. He rejoiced in the truth. He always protected, trusted, hoped, and persevered. Jim was someone I should always aspire to be like.

That is why it was, and is, difficult for me to feel sadness. While there is some sorrow, I cannot find myself dwelling in it. Jim lived his life in a full and amazing way. Yes, it's sad that he was on the young side of what we consider "old enough" to pass on. But he has left so much joy in those he's met. To be able to meet someone like Jim, someone who lives their life so fully and so completely, is to know overwhelming joy. It is difficult to mourn someone who provided such exuberance. Instead there was, and should be, immense celebration of the life he had. To spend my time in tears would feel selfish, and it would feel like a disservice to his memory. I need to keep him in my heart, and live love in the same ways he did.

This week was a mess, but it was a beautiful mess. It was full of laughter, sadness, stress, and calm. Even in the hardest parts of my week, there was a beauty in the struggle. It was in the most difficult moments that I found myself the calmest. I only hope that in the future I can remember this week and tell myself to just breathe.

his week of beauty is dedicated to Jim Bailie, who knew how to appreciate life through the joy and the sorrow.T

Social Connections, Not Social Media Connections.

I was born at what would be considered the end of my "generation". My birth year has me falling into Generation Y. Gen Y spans from just before 1980 up to around 1995. I missed what is considered Gen Z by 4 measly years. You can spend hours on the internet researching the social, economical, and technological differences of Gen X, Y, and Z. Having the internet has allowed us to connect generations in a way that we can't always fully understand. Things like Facebook and Twitter allow us to now share whatever details of our lives we choose to disclose. While the generation gap is apparent on these social media outlets, it is interesting how all of them seem to share one common trait: social media is supposed to be your life.

I admit that I am somewhat guilty of this crime. If someone gets married and they don't post any wedding pictures within a month I start to get an itch. Why aren't they posting pictures? I want to see the dress. I want to see the cake. I have to step back and remember that I am not entitled to this information because we are Facebook friends. It is a privilege.

This is where I notice a generation gap. Gen X typically wants to be able to get information from you. These are generally our parents, relatives, and close family friends. They typically don't post a lot on their own accounts. I cannot express how deeply disturbed I get when I hear things like, "Well why haven't you posted that on Facebook yet? What are the details!?" I know I'm 22. I know Facebook is supposed to be "my thing". I'm supposed to post pictures of my Pumpkin Spice Lattes and comment every day on how beautiful the fall weather is. Now that I'm pregnant people expect ultra sounds, frequent updates, and belly bump pictures. Truthfully, I don't find it necessary to share all of this information. Gen X is a generation of communicators. That's where this urge to "Facebook stalk" comes from. It's the new way for them to try and communicate with Gen Y and Gen Z. Here's my plea to the Gen Xers: if we don't post it, you can always nicely ask about it in a phone call or e-mail. Not all of us are Facebook junkies.

Gen Y and Z are entitled in an entirely different way. We generally put everything on Facebook and Twitter. We expect people to "Like" it, comment on it, or "re-tweet" it. We expect you to notice it. There is an extreme lack of personal communication. "Didn't get the party invite? Well, I put it on Twitter and Facebook." We are expected to be linked in and checking our social media every single time of the day! People air out their dirty laundry on social media. It drives me absolutely nuts! However it's hard to decide which irks me more: people who blatantly air things out, or people who give hints that something is bothering them...which is just fishing for comments. I have actually had someone say to my face, "uhg, it's too much to explain this drama. Just check my Facebook feed, I explained it all on there." Really? Has our generation actually forgotten how to have a conversation in person? Can you not just explain to me what is bothering you without a keyboard? I cannot express how bothersome it is to try and have a conversation with someone my age, and they are on Facebook. Ignoring me. It might not bother me so much if I didn't immediately get lumped into that category because of my age.

I know, I know. This post has been somewhat of a rant. However, it comes from an honest place. We are living our lives on our social media.We expect those around us to do the same, and most of us are guilty. I know that I am! We have lives. We are breathing, living beings. We don't need to be plugged in. We should enjoy the moments we are given with the people around us. We should appreciate the art of intelligent conversation. Facebook/Twitter/Tumblr/whatever other social media should be a tool to help us stay connected. It shouldn't be our only connection.

The Importance of (Healthily) Embarrassing Your Kids

Now that I'm pregnant, I'm getting all sorts of advice on how to be a parent. The most amazing part is that most of this advice seems to contradict what the last person told me. Pump. Use formula. Swaddle your baby to sleep. Don't swaddle your baby. They should sleep on their back. They should sleep on their stomach. The list goes on and on. The one thing that I have to say that I will always do, as my parents did it for me, is embarrass my kids.

Embarrassing your kids means a lot of different things. In order for them to feel the shame, they understand the social norms. They understand that what you're doing isn't considered "acceptable" in that situation. What an amazing way to teach your children how to act; show them how NOT to act. Every time they say "oh man, I won't be doing that in public...ever," should be taken as a small victory.

This technique teaches us to keep cool under pressure. As much as I know my mom loved watching me squirm, she liked watching me brush things off with humor and poise much more. As a child of an embarrassing parent, you learn to adapt to any situation. You must be prepared. You never know what they are going to do next. Taking it in stride is a coping mechanism you can use in many other aspects of life. If you're thrown a curve ball, chances are you're going to conquer it.

There were two reasons I started thinking about this topic. The first is I've heard from a lot of my youth in the past couple weeks that their parents are "so embarrassing". The other reason is I saw something on Pinterest highlighting how embarrassing Will Smith is as a father. Seriously. Google "Will Smith Embarrassing Jaden" and give yourself a few minutes worth of giggles. There are some gems, but this is my favorite:

Twofold embarrassment? Check.

Will Smith is famous. He's pretty rich. He's got a beautiful family, and he knows it. He has no problem putting his son in the ultimate awkward position. Although Jaden has taken to wearing those hideous poopy pants, he seems pretty well adjusted. Only time will tell, but I doubt he's going to go full on Britney or Amanda when he hits his 20's. Want to know why? Because his dad is giving him lovies in public. 

I know some people try to be the "cool" parents, but that just won't work for me. I'm far too nerdy, and was far too shamed in my youth to not give my kids the same treatment. The absolute best part of this realization was when I went, "oh my goodness, I said I would NEVER do that to my kids!" Oh well, that was before it was a reality, right? So, to my future children: beware. Your mom is going to be super embarrassing. It's going to be good for you. Consider it your psychological equivalent of vegetables.

30DBC - Three Things You Want to Say to Different People.

I have been falling behind on this! As far as challenges go, I guess this would be a major failure! How tragic. Well, here are some things that I suppose I would like to say. Although they aren't really secrets, sometimes it's good to let the world know.

To Mom and Dad - as much as it pains me to say it sometimes, you guys have been right about a lot of things. I appreciate how loving you are. As I grow, I am able to look around and understand how great you were as parents. There are quite a few times where I find myself bragging about how awesome you are. You've been business owners, volunteers, employees, employers, and most importantly (to me) parents. I've learned the importance of being well-rounded and open-minded from the years you raised me. I am always glad that no matter what I do in my life, there will be endless love and support from my parents. Not everyone can say that. I am truly blessed.

To Jim - You are my better, calmer side. Had we not met, there's no way knowing where I would have been. I can tell you that I am better off now than I ever would have been. Your family was welcoming and loving to me. You allow me to look at things in a different way. It still cracks me up that you think I've put on a full face of makeup when all I put on is mascara. You are a patient shopper. I'll never forget moving into and out of our first apartment. I'd never want to go through these sort of adventures without you. I love you more than Oreos, pickles, girly TV, and jeans. Together.

To America - Yeah, I'm lookin' at you America. I'm not going to try and pick someone else to say something to. I'm going to say something to you as a whole. You are the land of opportunity. There is always a way to "be somebody". Don't blame your family or your money for your problems. There are always ways to change. Stop the hate. Our ancestors came here to be free from the oppression of other countries. Please stop hating on people for being a different race/gender/orientation/intelligence/religion/political party. It is mindless. Doctor Who does an episode where everyone is upgraded to be "better" and it didn't turn out so well.

It didn't turn out well AT ALL.

 I don't know why we in America need to complain about things. If you think our country is so unfair, then go somewhere better. If you think we should be taking care of our country before others, then volunteer. You can start a food pantry. You can start an organization. We live in a country that we can DO that. It isn't all up to the government to fix the problems. Gandhi says, "be the change you want to see in the world." It's not that complicated.

30DBC - What Are Your Favorite Books?

So, I suppose if I was treating this as an actual challenge, I would fail. I can't keep any consistency with daily blogging. Shame upon me.

Ah, reading. So many options for me! I guess I'll try to keep this list short. I'm such a fan of reading that I just don't know if I could narrow it down too much.

 I really enjoy Stephen King's books. If I had to pick a favorite, it would probably be The Green Mile. It's just quite an amazing story, without being too ridiculous. Every time I read it, I find something new in it. That's the mark of a good book to me; one you can't immediately remember every detail of. Misery is another one of my favorites. There's nothing like crazy fangirling. Annie puts Twilight fans to shame, and that's saying something.

I never really got into non-fiction. The older I'm getting, the more and more I'm gravitating towards it. I recently bough Tina Fey's book, Bossypants. I thoroughly enjoyed it. It's full of amazing advice along with some downright ridiculous stories that make you feel a bit better about your life. You can actually hear her voice when you read it. It's the only time I ever considered getting an audiobook.

Finally, I have to pick something from the sci-fi world. I made the absolute best purchase a couple weeks ago. I couldn't believe it. I found the entire Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy "trilogy" (5 books) in one for $20. Best. Purchase. Ever. I haven't gotten to read them all, so I'm pretty excited to get going on that. I have a few other books I have to finish first. However, I know the whole "trilogy" is going to be a wonderful read.

I guess that covers a couple genres. Those books really are some of my favorites. Anything I'm willing to read more than two times is a success. If I know it well enough after the second time, it just didn't make the cut. There's a lot of classic literature I enjoy as well. I like To Kill a Mockingbird, Lord of the Flies, and even 1984. I liked the Harry Potter books, and the Hunger Games trilogy. They're all great in their own ways, but none of them would have to be my "favorites". It takes something pretty solid to catch my interest and keep me reading. I'm always open to other suggestions for the future!

30DBC - What Band or Musician Is Most Important To You?

This is an extremely difficult thing for me to try and hash out. I've always stood by the fact that I don't have a favorite band. I never will. If there's one thing I learned from my dad, it's that music should be taken for what it is. We can't look at country with a classic rock view and label it as bad. It's different, and it should be. If music all tried to fit the same mold, it would be boring.

Music in general is important to me. Anyone who is willing to continue to produce their music, no matter what people think of it, is important. As someone who has written and performed music, it's not easy. I write cheap little 4-chord numbers with Taylor Swift lyrics. I know they aren't the next Free Bird, but I don't want people to discount them.

So how do I answer this question? How can I pick one that is most important? Many genres of music have spoken to me at different times in my life. What is important to me in the music world is someone who fails to lose their integrity. Take All-American Rejects for example. They were extremely popular back in the late 90's/early 2000's. They've lost a lot of their popularity, but they continue to make music. More than that, they continue to make the music that they want to make. They don't apologize for trying something new, or for not changing to fit the mold. I guess in that respect, AAR is important to me.

There are two others that stick out in my head. The first one is Blue October. They create music that they like, just like AAR. The real reason that band is so important to me is because they write openly and honestly. Justin Furstenfeld suffers from bipolar disorder, which has led to a lot of poor life choices. Lyrically, I appreciate what he achieves with writing about extremely real feelings. On a similar note, I also enjoy Macklemore. While he does lots of catchy and silly tunes, he also writes about real life issues. I know that many rappers don't have this issue. Being real in your lyrics is something to be respected. His delivery is what really brings the honesty home. Sure, Eminem raps honestly...but he always sounds angry. I can't focus on him apologizing if he sounds angry while he's doing it. There's a level of sincerity that I really enjoy with Macklemore.

I guess when I look at it, music that speaks to me is honest music. It's written by the artist, it's recorded by the artists, and it's real. There's no Auto-Tune. There's no guest writers that you never hear about. It's not about the superficial things in life. It's just honest.

30DBC - Five Places You Want to Visit.

For those of you keeping track with the 30 Day Blog Challenge, I understand I haven't posted on the weekends. This is due to my lack of internet access. Boom.

This blog is difficult. I really don't enjoy travel that much. It's expensive, it's time consuming, and the water always tastes different. Having said that, this is my travel list if I had a large bank account, plenty of time, and my own supply of water that I'm used to. These are not ordered in any way, just what I thought of.

1. Norway - I hear it's beautiful, and as far as other countries go it sounds pretty appealing.
2. Bora Bora - I'm convinced that if there's anywhere that I would "enjoy" a beach, it would be there.
3. BWCA - I really enjoyed the Boundary Waters trip. It is beautiful and calming.
4. Disney World - I ain't scurred. Last time was awesome.
5. Annapolis - I've always enjoyed Annapolis, and I've found myself wanting to go back and see if it's still there.

So there you are, all of the fantastic places in the world and I find myself wanting to return to places I've already been. Go figure!

30DBC - The Meaning Behind Your Tumblr Name

Here's the deal: I don't have Tumblr. I don't believe in it. I've caved to several social media sites, but Tumblr shall never be one of them. Therefore, I do not have a Tumblr name to explain. Seeing as this would be an extremely lame post if it ended there, I'll explain the meaning behind my Twitter name.

Twitter name = @samthesqueaker (feel free to follow me, I'm very boring)

The first part, Sam, is pretty easy to figure out. My full name is Samantha. My family calls me Sam. Rocket science? I think not. The squeaker part is usually what throws people. This is my solemn confession of tragic childhood frivolity.

My parents and I used to do "sqeakies" when I was younger. Under five-years-old younger. They'd pinch my bottom and say, "Squeakie!" This became one of my favorite games. The incident that later would go down in infamy has two sides. This is my side. If you're curious for another view, ask my parents.

I don't know how old I was, but old enough I barely remember. My parents were shopping around this store, and FROM MY MEMORY (again, this is so fuzzy) we were visiting my grandma. I would like to clarify that my status as being a bit of a troublemaker started quite early. As I was meandering around the store, I came across a woman who was bent over to examine some product. Seeing as she was bent over and I was tiny, she naturally looked like my grandmother from this angle. Nobody said toddlers used logic.

As you can imagine I reached right up, pinched her bottom, and let out a good, "SQUEAKIE!" Imagine my surprise when a very confused, not-grandma face turned around to greet me. I ran to my parents. The lady followed, and explained the situation. She was laughing (from what I remember and have been told) and was very good humored about it. This incident dubbed me Squeaker for quite some time. I haven't fully outgrown the nickname, so I'm learning to embrace it.

There you have it.
samthesqueaker

I hope it was everything you imagined it would be.

30DBC - Describe Your Day, In Detail.

Oy, I work a desk job. I'll try to pep this up and make it sound interesting! Oh, who am I kidding?

This morning started with Jim's phone going off. I'm not sure what time the alarm was set for, but somewhere around 7ish is likely. I heard rain outside. I didn't want to get out of bed. Jim got up to start his day, and the dog immediately took his spot in the bed. He looked at me with puppy dog eyes until I started scratching his ears. He knows me too well.
After brushing my teeth, putting in my eyeballs, and throwing on my clothes for the day, Jim drove me to work. Once inside the building, I had a lovely conversation about the weather with Pastor Frank. He then informed me that some cyclists were climbing a mountain today. Twice. I spent the next ten minutes contemplating why on earth someone would bike up a mountain, descend it, then turn around and bike back up.
Karen arrived a bit later. She came to join me in my office, since Louise hadn't arrived yet. I think Karen deserves her own office. We then discussed the weather and my desire from coffee. After about 20 minutes of convincing from Karen, I took her van and drove to get some coffee. Karen's van smells awesome. I need to find out what kind of smell good she keeps in there. Once I had my coffee and had returned to my desk, it was time to work. I phoned and texted parents, checked my e-mail, and registered people for our upcoming trip to the Twin Cities. Blogging about being a twenty-something was my highlight before lunch. I also enjoyed a delicious Appleberry GoGo Squeeze. Applesauce in a bag should have been my invention!
Jim picked me up for lunch. I had leftover hamburger hot dish. Except we made it with pork, not hamburger. However, the taste hasn't changed much. I then proceeded to lay down and watch American Dad. I didn't move for almost the entire lunch period. It was extremely satisfying.
I got back to work around 1 and turned on my space heater. I get cold in this office, and I cannot explain why. I have on socks and jeans. I had a super awesome chat with Heather Peterson about VBS. I sent some more e-mails. I eventually started sifting through some material to start preparing for the 2nd VBS I'll participate in this summer!
Now, I sit here, writing this blog and realizing how boring my day probably is to hear about. I'm also slowly munching on a Kashi bar. I am so pleased with my totes delicious snacks.

My Thumbs are Tired, I Must Be Getting "Old."

Everyone has profound moments in their life. Growing up is full of those "aha" moments that make us look around and realize that our parents were probably right about some stuff. Learning is something that should be treasured. Life experiences aren't always fun; they aren't always awful. Experience is something we should take in stride.

I have to say, I will never forget this moment of starting to feel "old" at 21. Clearly I'm not at the point of nursing homes, so perhaps "grown-up" is a better term. Anyways, I have always been an avid texter. I used to baffle my parents at how fast I could reply to multiple people without even glancing down at what I was typing. That is our generation: keeping in contact without actually connecting. A little while ago I was texting my parents. It had been so long since I'd given them the "life rundown" that I found myself looking at the epically long text and thinking, "My thumbs are tired, I should just call them." That's when my eyes went wide and I realized that I've heard that same phrase from my dad about a million times. What on Earth was happening?

I've started to settle into that grown-up feeling. Feeling grown up isn't just about having to pay bills or living on your own, although it's a start. 21 is that magical "in-between" age. Some of your friends are just out of college, still partying, and have no idea what they want to do with their lives. A handful of your friends have moved on to better things, started their new jobs, and are planning for grad school. Even fewer of those friends are settling down, getting married, and/or having babies. No matter which point your friends are at, it's okay! There's no answer for where we're "supposed to be" at 21, or at any point in our lives. Society may try and dictate that, but there's no simple answer. It just doesn't exist.

A lot of times I feel awkward in my stage of life. I didn't finish college (but have FULL intentions of starting online classes soon), but I am married and have an amazing job. It's difficult in my job to find a balance between ministering to my youth, as well as finding free time to enjoy myself as a young adult. I'm enjoying every minute of finding that balance! So why is this stage so awkward? It has to do with being in that "in-between" stage I talked about earlier. Twenty-somethings are an interesting bunch, but no matter where they are at in their lives you can break them down into two categories: those who respect the awkward in-between, and those who don't.

Those who respect this odd time are a blessing for me. These are the people who, no matter where they are at, are thrilled to watch/help you go about your life. They enjoy watching those around them grow. They appreciate your friendship for what you can give at the time. There's never any, "Oh, you don't want to go out drinking? You're so boring!" or, "Why don't we hang out anymore, you're so busy!", or even, " I can't believe you're already married. You're SO young!" They understand that you're at a different spot, and they tend to make the best of the time you can spend together.

The people who don't respect the in-between frustrate me. It can be difficult enough to figure out your life at this age. It doesn't help when you have people trying to place you into their spot. This goes between people wanting you to be more mature, and less mature. You're 21 and married? Well you should be making more money, have your college education, and get on them babies! On the opposite side, you get those who wish you'd come out and party more. To push someone beyond where they are trying to settle can be an excruciating process to all involved.

Here's my words to those who are struggling with where they want to be: stay where you are comfortable now. Are you not ready to be married? Don't get married, you'll both be miserable. Do you still want to go out and party? Don't have children quite yet, they don't allow for much "going out" time. Not enjoying your job? Keep working, but pursue a career option that will give you joy.

Twenty-somethings need to stick together. We're all in an awkward boat. Comfortable or not, it's a part in our lives where we're getting life experience and learning what it means to feel grown-up. Questioning and judgement do not ease our process; they only enhance the stress. We can't all be a debutant, and we can't all be a party monster. Wherever you are in life, support those around you. It doesn't matter if you've been on this earth for 17 years or 70, we are not all the same person. We are not all meant to be! And for you twenty-somethings, I feel ya. We'll get it figured out one day.

30DBC - 10 Likes/10 Dislikes.

Day two of this blog challenge is pretty simple, 10 likes and dislikes. Hopefully this one won't feel so much like a personal ad.

Likes:
1. Fresh fruit and veggies. Obviously fresh fruit is awesome, but I also enjoy uncooked potatoes and eggplant. So delicious.
2. Hot, sunny, low-humidity days. I don't mind the heat, just so long as it's a dry heat.
3. The number 3. It's my favorite number because it's a number of strength. Also because I liked the song that taught you to multiply and divide by 3 from Schoolhouse Rock.
4. My study bible. I fought forever against them because I felt they were pointless, but I've been attached to mine ever since I received it.
5. Mixed patterns. It takes skill to wear them with pride.
6. Scattergories, which is probably the best game ever created
7. Animals...this excludes creepy crawlies. I'm just an animal lover. I don't pick sides on the dog/cat argument. I even like snakes.
8. Dryer-fresh jeans, AKA the coziest feeling in the world.
9. The smell of homemade bread. It brings me back to when my dad would make some, and the whole house would smell absolutely amazing.
10. Working with my hands. I love how productive it makes me feel.

Dislikes:
1. Dry skin. It's seriously one of the worst feelings in the world. Minnesota is no help to this phenomenon.
2. Parents who put themselves before their children. Whether you're 20 or 45, a new or old parent, your kids should come first. Date nights and trips are acceptable, but once you're a parent, it's not always about you anymore. If the people around you don't understand that, then find new people who understand that babies mean business.
3. Auto-tune. I need not elaborate.
4. Hot dogs. I've learned to tolerate these nitrate-cicles, but they absolutely just gross me out.
5. Pushy politics. Everyone has their own opinion. Berating people with your opinions doesn't make them listen, it usually makes them tune you out.
6. Building off of that, I dislike when people cannot debate or argue properly. Shouting and using foul language doesn't make your point stronger. It doesn't make you sound more intelligent. Don't repeat the same argument either, it doesn't get you anywhere!
7. Wind. Wind wind wind. It's awful.
8. "Texture food", like cottage cheese, hummus, and oatmeal. Are you a solid or a liquid? PICK!
9. Decaf coffee. What's the point?
10. Cold, sweaty feet. You know what I'm talking about. They're freezing and damp? Ish.

On a side note, I DO like water aerobics. This was something new that I tried today. I found it quite relaxing, yet still challenging. Plus, the other women are kind of hilarious. There's nothing like getting your tush whooped treading water by someone over twice your age. AWESOME. These ladies can work.

30 Day Blog Challenge - About Me.

Blog challenges. I normally don't get into the whole "30 day challenge" thing, but I figured this one wouldn't be so bad. It's got some fun little things in it, so I'm looking forward to it. Along WITH the 30DBC, I will be posting other blogs as well...so don't worry!

Day One - Write Some Basic Things About Yourself.

My full name is Samantha Christine (Longtin) Hudson. I'm short and pale, but I embrace those traits. I work as a Youth Minister in Minnesota. I've been married for 9 months, and our wedding anniversary is one day later than our three-year dating anniversary. We have an adorable dog that can be a brat sometimes, but we love him just the same.

Music is something that speaks to me. I have been playing guitar for about 8 years, and am nowhere close to being a professional. Still, I enjoy both that and singing/making music. One of the worst experiences I've encountered with music was trying to play baritone with braces. Yuck.

My favorite color flips between green and orange; I can't decide. My favorite day shoe is the Chuck Taylor, my favorite evening shoe has to be my pair of nude pumps from Target that I paid $20 for. Worth it. I also can never decide on a favorite movie. I see the good (and bad) in most things. It tends to make me a "fence-rider".

Since I feel as thought I'm writing a personal ad, I feel the need to include that I don't like long walks on the beach. In fact, I really tend to avoid the beach. It's overcrowded, it's kind of dirty, and sand sticks to everything it comes in contact with for the next million years.

You Are My Sunshine -- Light Up the Sky.

I've been seeing this poem circulating around. I had to share it with everyone.

Even
After
All this time
The Sun never says
To the Earth
"You owe me."

Look

What happens
With a love like that.
It lights the

Whole

Sky.

This poem is short. It's so short that when I go back to read it, it's basically memorized. The most amazing part is how I find it absolutely beautiful every time I go back to it. It is only outdone by my favorite piece of poetry, All That is Gold Does Not Glitter from the LOTR books. If you're not familiar with it, look it up. It's perfect.

This poem resonates with me so much because it reminds me of my parents. For those of you who have never met the people who brought me into this world, I will explain. I have those parents that are disgustingly and unapologetically in love. They hug and smooch, they rarely argue, they hold hands in public, and it will always light up my sky. My parents had a very balanced relationship. My mom didn't do all the typical "mom" things, and my dad didn't always do the typical "dad" things. They play on the strengths of the other; they never put a debt in front of each other.

This expands to more than just our romantic relationships. You can apply this to both your friends and family. It can be difficult. We live in a culture that dictates "time is money". You work for us? We owe you money. You need a ride somewhere? You owe gas money. You needed a DD at 3am, after I was in bed? You owe me BIG TIME. We all do it. We value our time and our possessions. When we are asked to give, we expect to be rewarded in a similar manor. It's a cultural standard, and it's damaging. When we are in someone's debt, or holding a debt to someone, resentment builds. Resentment is dangerous; it kills love.

So what happens when we strip away that phrase? Love begins to build. It begins to light up the sky. You start looking at those around you differently. You stop seeing what people owe you, and start seeing who they are. When you do that, you can pour so much love and appreciation into the people around you.

Try to love like the Sun. If you're not sure what that looks like, find two people who love each other so wholly that they exude joy. That's what loving like the Sun looks like. My example is my parents. You may find something else. We'll all have bad days. We'll all want justice and fairness in our relationships. Just give without expecting. That's the kind of love that lights the whole sky.

I'm Down With P. Frank...AKA: Pope Francis

This year when the Pope was chosen, the office was buzzing. It was mostly buzzing due to the fact that Pastor Frank was beaming with pride because, obviously, the Pope named himself after Frank. Frank continued to keep us posted for a couple weeks on all the neat things the Pope had been doing. (By the way, Frank has a really great blog that you should check out: http://pawntoking4.blogspot.com)

After seeing more and more headlines about Pope Francis, I can no longer hold my enthusiasm. I'm a Lutheran who is totally and completely down with P. Frank.

Let me start with the fact that P. Frank is the most jeans-and-tee pope. I understand we haven't actually seen him in jeans and a t-shirt, but he doesn't really like all of the frill. He doesn't wear his stole or cape very often because, he admits, he just doesn't like them. He also hasn't worn the red shoes, white stockings, or cuff links. He even wore a second hand pallium. There are entitled 16-year-olds who won't even wear a hand-me-down.

Fabulous fashion choices aside (seriously, he looks super good without all the extra junk), P. Frank is a Pope for the people. He takes a slightly ecumenical approach to the church. A great example of both of these is when he performed the foot washing ceremony. People were abuzz about the fact that he washed the feet of women, not just men. The custom is to only wash male feet since the disciples were male. That's not the coolest part. Two of the people who's feet he washed were actually Muslim!

That's not the only thing approachable about him. I admire the way that he sort of acts like the petulant problem child to the Vatican. His security detail must go crazy every time he goes out into public. He's ditched the bullet-proof glass on the Popemobile, he frequently goes down into the public crowds to address them, refuses to live in the fancy apartments, and still refers to himself as "Bishop" rather than "Pope". See what I mean about being a jeans-and-tee pope?

P. Frank even took the time to hold a "Blessing of the Bikes" for Harley Davidson's 110th anniversary. That's right, the pope with bikers.

"Maybe I should get one of these..."

While that was one of the coolest things I've ever seen, nothing compares to P. Frank's homily that created some controversy recently in the Vatican. Instead of giving you the "follow-up" from the Vatican on this excerpt, I'm going to let you read it and take away what you will from it...seeing as I believe that's how sermons/homilies should be done.

"The Lord has redeemed all of us, all of us, with the Blood of Christ: all of us, not just Catholics. Everyone! 'Father, the atheists?' Even the atheists. Everyone! And this Blood makes us children of God of the first class. We are created children in the likeness of God and the Blood of Christ has redeemed us all. And we all have a duty to do good. And this commandment for everyone to do good, I think, is a beautiful path towards peace. If we, each doing our own part, if we do good to others, if we meet there, doing good, and we go slowly, gently, little by little, we will make that culture of encounter: We need that so much. We must meet one another doing good. 'But I don't believe, Father, I am an atheist!' But do good: We will meet one another there."

P. Frank is taking his office in a lighthearted and rather relaxed way. I cannot wait to see what other changes he brings about. It's good to see positive role models within the Christian church reaching out to those who are different. After all, isn't that what Jesus did?

Honestly, Why Must We Ask This?

When I graduated, I was gifted with a book titled The World According to Mister Rogers by my French teacher. I've flipped through it a few times. It's just a collection of small quotes that are both insightful and profound. Today I found the following quote:

"The greatest gift you can ever give is your honest self."

Honesty has always been important. We don't often look of it as our "gift" to be honest to those around us, we just look at it as an obligation. Honesty is the best policy, right? This is where it gets tricky. We want honesty. We crave it. We love nothing more than to know exactly how people feel, how things work, and the way things are going to be. Yet, we have this phrase:

Honestly?

I don't know about you, but I say this all the time. I have a very brash honesty about me, so "honestly?" just comes out naturally. I'm never sure if people actually want to hear what I have to say. In our culture there's this huge importance placed on tact. If you're not being tactful people think you're mean. Our honesty is forcibly veiled with a thin coat of bull crap.

"Do these jeans make my hips look big?"

"Yes, but you have big hips, and that's okay!"
"No no! They don't make your hips look big, I just think the other pair is much more slimming."

Is it wrong to tell people we care about how we really feel? Think about this. Your friends and family should love you for who you are. They should love you for your honesty, no matter how tactful it is. When we pull out this "honestly?" phrase, it's almost as if we're saving our skin before we give our opinion. When I hear that phrase, I immediately know that it's not going to be what I want to hear. We ask others for their honesty, but they still feel the need to ask if that's really what we want.

"I want your honest opinion on these earrings."
"Honestly?"
"Honestly"
"They're ugly."

THAT is an honest opinion. While something like, "I think the other ones are cuter," is still honest, you're not talking about the earrings. You're directing to something more positive. There's nothing wrong with positivity. There is something wrong with positivity when we use it to cloud our true feelings. Honesty goes in hand-in-hand with opinions, and opinions can be negative. I find the need to apologize for blunt honesty slightly hypocritical. We can be honest! Just not too honest....

Besides my family, there are three people in this world that understand the importance of honesty: good or bad. I know I'll never have to ask the "honestly?" question, and I hope they know they'll never have to ask me. They give me that great gift that Mr. Rogers was talking about; they give me their honest selves. To Jim, Stephen E., and Michael S.: thank you for giving me your honesty and never making me apologize for mine. There's nothing more I would ever want. The level of respect I have for you is unprecedented, and that's why I care so much for you three. (I care a little more for Jim, sorry guys!)

Give your honest self. The people who accept it are the ones you want to stick around. If someone doesn't accept it, then it's time to move on. Collectively we need to stop having to prepare people for our honesty when it is asked for. Don't push it upon people, but if it is requested then give it. It shows character. It takes courage. More importantly, you owe it to those you love.

Honestly? I don't know why we have to ask.

Dear Sixteen-Year-Old Me

Lately, on Facebook and other social media sites, I've been seeing this topic circulate. At first I tried to ignore it. It's such a cliche thing to do, right? Writing your younger self a letter seems somewhat pointless. It can't change what's happened. What's the purpose? I let this thought roll around in my brain today when an unshakeable realization came: the purpose is to see how far you've come, not to change where you would go.

So here we go.

Dear Sixteen-Year-Old-Me,

Let's get this out of the way now: boys are dumb, high school is boring, and when you graduate none of it really matters. It's true. The guy who dumped you turns out to be a huge jerk (said in the nicest way possible), and your grades are fine just the way they are. Sometimes it's difficult to see past the typical teenage girl things. I promise, it's all pretty irrelevant once you hit college. Boys are still dumb in college, but on a slightly elevated level.

Studying for your driver's test does not help you with the practical part. If you take anything out of failing your test the first time, it should be that human error is the biggest cause of automotive accidents. Sometimes, it's not even your own error. Don't bum out about it, accidents happen.

Color your hair all you want, but know this: you'll let it grow out natural and healthy one day. You'll love it. Then, you'll decide to shave it all off. Yes, you haven't changed too much.

Don't stop reading or writing. Read the books you scoff at. It'll make you appreciate the ones you love even more. Write about what bothers you, or what makes you happy. Just do not quit writing. Write songs, poems, or blogs...but don't give up on it. It makes it that much harder to jump back in! Plus, there's nothing more embarrassing than a spelling or punctuation mistake on the internet. It's actually a bigger deal than Brittany Spears going off the deep end. Seriously.

Stop worrying about what you want to do with your life. You're going to pick the perfect college, and then realize you don't enjoy it at all. Be prepared for the backlash of dropping out of college. Try not to worry about it too much, though. Your parents will, like they always have, support you in everything. You'll try, and fail, at a lot of different life positions. One day, on a whim, you'll take a job offer that will end up being one of the greatest things you could hope for.

It's okay to feel uncertain. Life is uncertain. You can tuck yourself in every night and worry about what will happen next. I can guarantee in a million years that you will never actually dream up the exact journey you will have taken by the time you're 21. Friends come, friends go. The best ones stay in touch. The greatest of them love you for all you are, and all you can give them. They will never leave. Forgive the ones that do. They have their reasons, be that distance or a change in who they are. Growing, singularly as well as in friendship, is hard. There's no promising that others will grow up to love and appreciate the same things you will. It will hurt to see them go, but part of forgiveness is understanding and accepting the decisions others make.

Finally, embrace and love yourself. Tell yourself that whatever you have, whatever you do, whatever you accomplish, it is enough. Don't feel the need to apologize for your sense of humor. Don't feel the need to apologize for anything. Give everything you've been given. You've been dealt your hand; you have to play it. Just know that there's so much of the world you have yet to see, and so many people you have yet to meet. Lastly, please never forget to laugh.

You've made it this far,
Samantha Hudson (what, last name change!?) 21 years old.

Climbing a Mountain and the 5 Stages of Grief.

On our recent trip to the Black Hills, my family (meaning Kate, Frank, Jim, and I) climbed a mountain. When Frank told me we were going to be climbing a mountain, I was amped. A mountain? I've never climbed a MOUNTAIN before. Harney Peak, this mountain, is the highest point east of the Rockies. This of course could only lead to one thing: my constant new phrase of, "I'ma climb a mountain, ain't nobody gonna tell me nothin'!"

While the day didn't start off lending itself to hiking weather (cold, damp, and misty) we trudged forth to the trail head in order to begin the 3(?) mile hike to the top. The climb started off simply. All of us had our slow, deliberate hiking walk down to perfection. Heavy, monotonous steps thumped upwards. The day started to clear a little as we hit our first overlook stop. It was lovely (although still misty and foggy) and was a little over a mile up the mountain. As I stood there, sipping water and thinking about how far we already had come, I was amazed. There was no way we were really climbing a mountain! I was already exhausted. The top simply HAD to be approaching soon. And that's where it started.

My two-hour roller coaster through the 5 stages of grief. In my head. While climbing a mountain.

It starts with denial. "There's no way we're going to make it to the top. I'm already exhausted. Kate's not feeling well! I can't believe we're actually doing this, the trail just keeps getting more and more difficult!"

Then it moved on to anger. "Who's idea was it to climb this stupid mountain? We could be hiking any other trail. Why on earth did I agree to this?"

Followed, very quickly, by bargaining. "God, if you help me get to the top of this mountain, I'll never complain about anything again. I'll work out more! Just make my lungs stop burning!"

Depression kicked in about the last mile of the trip, when the terrain started getting a bit crazy. It went something like, "We're going to be jello by the time we reach the top. We won't even enjoy the view." This was accompanied by me losing my mind and singing excerpts from "The Climb" by Miley Cyrus.

Finally, there was acceptance. This kicked in as we neared the top. "Well, we've come this far, we might as well finish this and enjoy it. It's not the worst thing in the world!"

I never expected climbing a mountain would force me to run this gamut of emotions. However, sitting at the top of that mountain was worth it. Relaxing in the calm on that rocky, albeit chipmunk infested, mountain was amazing. All of the grumbling that I had been doing in my head was immediately gone and forgotten. In that moment, I was just happy to be on that mountain with those three people. I even told them that there's nobody I'd rather be on a mountain with, which led Frank to smile and go, "awww, for cuuuute."

While it wasn't the easiest thing in the world, it wasn't Everest. I lived. I conquered.

I climbed a mountain. Ain't nobody gonna tell me nothin'.

Adventures In Dying

Alrighty. So I downloaded this fancy Blogger app on my iPod. We shall see how it goes!

This weekend I decided to dye this old white dress that I never wear. White isn't my color. So, I picked up a bottle of Rit at Michael's. I went with blue, figuring if anything I could freshen up some jeans with the extra dye. 

After putting  half a bottle of dye and a cup of salt into some scorching water, I was ready to turn that bad boy blue. I popped it in with a pair of Jim's jeans and stirred away for about 20 minutes. Once I pulled everything out and rinsed them in the sink, they got popped in the dryer for a quick cleaning. While I waited, I made an awesome nail polish holder out of an old spice rack!!

When I pulled the dress out of the dryer, it ended up looking great! Since the stitching wasn't all cotton like the dress, it didn't take the dye and stayed white. I thought it was a neat effect!

Jim's jeans also looked fresher. I can't believe I waited this long to try Rit. It is so easy! Now I will actually wear my dress. It was a successful, crafty weekend. I can't wait to see what else in my closet could use a color change! 

CrossFit: A Lesson in Blind Faith.

When I won six CrossFit sessions at our silent auction, I was pumped. I'd heard about it and seen the CrossFit games. I knew it wouldn't be easy. However, there was a slight underestimation of what would be going on. Keep in mind: I'd just started running. Since I'm a little sibling, this small feat in my exercise routine gave me quite a big head. My eight minute jogging had turned me into Samantha, Queen of Fitness. I could essentially climb a mountain.

After my first two Crossfit sessions on Thursday and Friday, I was shaken. It only took two days to turn my faith in myself upside down. What I had been so sure I could handle I was now seeing as an insurmountable challenge. Yesterday was my third session. As I began going through the new torture Crisa had written down on the Dry Erase Board of Doom (DEBD), I actually turned and asked, "What happens if your body gives out before you make it through 5 times?" I'm completely new to this intense of a workout. I actually had no idea if I could physically complete the task at hand. Crisa very simply replied, "You won't. It's not over when you're tired, it's over when you're done."

I believed her! Even though my legs were shaking and I was sweating only slightly less than the time I had food poisoning, I believed her. She knew what she was doing. Even though I didn't believe in myself, I believed in her faith in me. She was never negative; she was honest. Her confidence in me was reassuring.

Faith is something that can be difficult to wrap ourselves around. Faith in anything. Faith in our family, faith in religion, faith in friends, and faith in ourselves. Blind faith is even harder. It makes us feel a little helpless to do something completely new when it hurts or tires us. It's hard to trust when you're feeling weak, physically or mentally. When we fail, our faith can fail. It can be shaken.

So what's the difference? If all faith can be shaken, why is it so much more difficult to give into blind faith? Blind faith means that you don't fully understand what is happening. I didn't fully understand working out, and I still don't. My whole body was screaming at me. Trusting that Crisa knows what I can and can't get through isn't easy...but it's what I have to do. As humans we are so against this principle. We want proof. We crave that immediate, tangible evidence as to why we should believe in something. Sometimes we don't get that proof right away. There are days we must get a little battered and bruised before we realize the blessings that can come from our journey.

The phrase "seeing is believing" can be true, and most often it is. It takes patience to wait for results. We can spend our waiting periods doubting and fighting, or we could do something more courageous. We can trust. We can allow ourselves that blind faith, no matter how infinitesimal. It's easy to cliff dive when you've watched four other people do it, you've tested the depth of the water, and scanned the area for dangerous rocks. But to be the first one to jump? Everyone's done it before, but not today. You didn't get to see it happen. You have to look at them and trust, blindly, that you'll make it. That is what takes the real guts.

I didn't go into CrossFit thinking I would have some crazy revelation about the importance of blind faith, but here it is. I still have no idea what I'm doing there (or why I'm enjoying) every session. I guess I'll just have to put a little more blind faith into my trainer. Oh, and buy a CrossFit tank top so I can show off how great my arms are going to look.

Small Town Living from a Suburban/City Girl.

I was raised in what some called the "suburbs of Cincinnati." I lived about 15 minutes on the Kentucky side of the river in Edgewood, population 9,400. After going to college and falling in love with my husband, I moved with him to Louisville. Louisville's population, within the whole metro area, is over a million people. Then we moved to Hallock, population 981. People keep asking, "how are you adjusting?" Well, here's the answer to that. These are some of the biggest adjustments I've had to come to terms with.

Everyone is extremely friendly. I think I've met two people in my four months of residence here that weren't in a fantastic mood. I attributed the crankiness to the weather.

Everyone knows everyone. This one has both pros and cons. The positive side of things is that you (almost) never have to explain who someone is. You can almost always get a hold of someone. However, this also means that everyone already has their opinion formed about the people around them. That, and you almost always run into someone at the grocery store. There's never a quick trip to the store.

There's no fast food. Nope, not in Hallock. We have the Caribou Grill, and the bowling alley just opened up it's diner-style service. I understand this is a healthier way of living, but sometimes I would really just LOVE to have some Taco Bell.

My gas tank is perpetually full. No complaints about this one. If I don't drive to Grand Forks, my tank needs refilling once every couple months. MONTHS people. Now that the weather is getting warmer, I should be able to walk to work. No more spending half of my income at the gas station...what a comforting notion.

Schools and churches work together. I was pleasantly surprised by this one. When Louise told me to put an announcement about a mission trip meeting into the school announcements, I was sort of floored. Not only that, but the school always forgives students for missing activities on Wednesday nights. They even avoid putting events on Wednesday if they can avoid it.

I rarely get carded. The few establishments that sell alcohol know that I'm 21, and so there's no need for them to card me as consistently as when I'm in the city. It's really nice not to have people raise their eyebrows when I would like to order a drink.

People leave their cars running...everywhere. Going to the store? Not a problem, just leave the car running in the parking lot. Running into the bank? Just park on the curb and keep the keys in the ignition. This one I've had some difficulty allowing myself to do. I'm still in the "someone will steal your car" mentality.

It feels amazing to be outside. Even when it's freezing cold, the air up here is insanely clean. I hate wind, that's no secret, but it keeps the gunk away. Unless you have a south wind, the air is so fresh. The sun is warmer. Now that there's no more snow, I fully intend to enjoy being outside.

While sometimes living in this small town can be frustrating, it is mostly amazing. It's quiet, slow-paced, and friendly. I know that at the end of the day, I can leave my doors unlocked and not have to worry. I love the carefree feeling that comes with the small community. It may be an adjustment, but it's a welcomed adjustment.

The 8 Things I Learned from the Evil Dead Reboot.

Evil Dead (2013) was brutal. There's no other words for it. It's literally one of the most metal things I've ever seen.

 

Besides, of course, this.

Since lots of people aren't into the horror genre (and I don't blame you) I thought I'd compile a list of totally useful facts and hints for life. What kind of person would I be if I didn't share? If you ever find yourself in a creepy cabin in the woods with pure evil after you, you will be thanking me.

Rule #1: Detox in the woods with your friend/sibling is never a good idea - Seriously. Just don't do it. People get nervous enough in nature. Medical care is not easily accessed.  There's no need to add someone who is coming off of drugs into the mix. You are already setting your "weekend getaway to the woods" up for failure.

Rule #2: When you find a disturbing, cult-like set-up in the basement, just walk away - It's extremely simple. You go back up the steps, get back into your car, and go. There are plenty of other cabins that you can rent in this world. It's not worth the money you are saving to stay in your family cabin. It's just not.

Rule #3: Barbed wire is meant to do one thing: keep people out - I'm not a genius. However, common sense would tell me that if something is wrapped in garbage bags and then bound in barbed wire, maybe we don't touch whatever it is. Maybe we just leave it where we found it.

Rule #4: Choose your reading material carefully - If you stumble upon a book that appears to be made out of any material other than normal paper and binding, you may be intrigued. You may be perplexed. You will undoubtedly be curious. If you're so inclined to pop that book open, just read silently to yourself BEFORE you read aloud. Especially when your book specifically instructs you not to speak anything out loud. 

Rule #5: People in detox don't look great...but they don't look like the Linda Blair in The Exorcist - Should you assume that your loved one's eyes changing color is "just a symptom", there may be no hope. One also wouldn't get a blackened mouth, start talking in a completely different voice, or withstand copious amounts of sedative.

Rule #6: Duct Tape should be in your First Aid kit - When they say you can use the ultra-sticky tape for anything, they mean it. It is not only useful for fixing leaky sinks, making prom dresses, decoration, and packing boxes; it can also be used for stab wounds and amputated limbs. Works like a charm, although it doesn't seem to stop possession. Consider yourself warned.

Rule #7: Pat your pockets before you leave - You know how you always pat your pockets to make sure you have everything you need to leave? Yeah, that's an important step in all aspects of life. Because you need to leave. Now. Don't leave your car keys in the creepy cabin. Pat your pockets; it'll save your life.

Rule #8: Ride an adrenaline wave as long as you can - Your body produces adrenaline for a reason. You need the push. So what if you were just possessed, are missing an appendage, and are losing an extreme amount of blood? You keep that adrenaline flowing, pick up your chainsaw, and do some damage.

I hope this helps. I couldn't believe that this movie produced so much important information for one's daily life. In all seriousness, I really enjoyed the movie. It won't be everyone's cup of tea. It's not the original. It was, however, still a fantastic horror movie in all respects.

Oh, and when in doubt, always remember the Zombieland classics: cardio, double tap, beware of bathrooms, and always wear your seat belt.

Couch to 5k progress...

There are two things I despise in this world: running and wind. Somehow, my sister talked me into starting up the Couch to 5k program. It's basically a work out program designed to turn you from a couch potato to someone who is capable of running 5k...just as it sounds.

It didn't seem so bad. Really. I signed up for the Run or Dye 5k in Fargo with a thought something along the lines of, "well, if I can't RUN it, I can at least walk it. No biggie." Not to mention you get colored powder thrown at you during the run. That way, you can be sweaty and colorful at the end. I feel as though "sweaty and colorful" is another way to describe the guy who has to walk around in the Big Bird costume.

I want so badly to say I'm enjoying this program. I want to say that it's incredibly easy. I would most likely be much closer to saying those things if it wasn't for the other thing in this world I despise: wind. That's right. Welcome to Hallock, where there's literally nothing to block the wind. On top of that, it's been insanely cold up here! Nothing like an 8mph wind on a 25 degree morning to make you stop and think, "wow, potato chips never make me feel this awful," or, "maybe the couple of beers I had last night were a bad idea."

I promise to give more updates on this Couch to 5k business. We're supposed to get up to 40 degrees before Wednesday, which is when we have some more lovely snow showers being predicted. Is anyone else ready for spring yet?

St. Baldrick's Day 2014

A few years ago, I heard about one of my friends participating in this event called St. Baldrick's Day. He was raising money for childhood cancer research. In return for everyone's efforts, and in solidarity of those precious little faces, he would shave his head. I thought it was by far the most impressive fundraising technique I'd ever witnessed.

Naturally this burned in my brain. During my time in cosmetology school, I had tried to start an event for this. Sadly, it never got off the ground. I pushed the thoughts down into the "think about it later" section of my brain as my life moved on. I got busy, my jobs changed a couple times, and I had almost forgotten completely about something that had compelled me so intensely a year ago. It wasn't until this year that the desire came back. Scrolling down my Facebook feed, I saw that familiar logo draped across one of my husband's friends in the form of a cutting cape. Suddenly, I just HAD to do it.

I toyed with this idea for a few weeks. I asked my youth if any of them would be willing to participate. I was met with the same response I found in cosmetology school, "are you crazy? That's your HAIR. You'll be BALD!" Immediately I get defensive. Yes, it's hair. Yes, I'll be bald. There are two important things to remember here. One: my hair grows back, and it grows back pretty quick. Two (and most importantly): what about those little girls? Those five-year-old girls and boys who don't get the opportunity to have hair. Hair is just as important to a five-year-old as it is to someone who is twenty-one.

The other night, I got online to sign up. I wanted to set my day to shave my head so that I could commit without backing out. I wanted time to raise money. However, I found out you can't sign up for 2014 online just yet. Now, I get to play the waiting game. That's what this post is all about. This post is my commitment to myself, and to everyone who ever reads this, that I will participate next year. I'll gladly start taking any donations, even if I'm not officially signed up yet. I'm so excited to do this for these kids. I just don't want to forget again.

March 17, 2014. I'll be waiting for it! If you'd like more information on the St. Baldrick's foundation, go to http://www.stbaldricks.org.

Duck Dynasty: The Family That Prays Together

When I first heard about the show Duck Dynasty, I was mortified. Most of the people trying to outline the premise show produced something similar; it's a show about a redneck family who makes duck calls. My typical response to most "reality TV" lately (in the wake of Real Housewives and Honey Boo Boo) has been something along the lines of, "they are really making money off of this? People really want to watch that??"

I was less than excited the first night my husband, along with my parents, talked me into watching Duck Dynasty. Was there really nothing better on? That's when it happened. The more I watched this show, the more I realized that THIS is what "reality TV" should be. Yes, there's lots of redneck hilarity. Yes, sometimes I have no idea what they are saying. However through all of the silliness, Dynasty has a lot to teach.

First of all, no matter how dumb these guys may seem to be sometimes, they are business men. They've made a pretty penny on their products. Secondly, these are family men. Some of their ideas are just extremely off-the-wall (lawnmower races), some are borderline genius (teaching your daughter to drive out in the woods), and some are just insanely sweet (Si letting his granddaughters paint his nails, and building them a "playhouse"). They teach their family responsibility. They teach their family respect. The really impressive bit comes at the end of each episode. The family sits down together and prays before their meal. They pray for each other; they pray for others around them.

The Robertson family may not live like the rest of us, but they certainly act just like any family. They have their tiffs and ignore each other. The parents and grandparents embarrass the kids when they are going on a date. The brothers get into trouble and the wives just shake their heads. That is what makes this show so powerful. They have strong family values, and at the end of the day they love the little flaws in the people around them. That's the power of family, and that's the power of prayer.

It doesn't matter what you believe in, or how you choose to reflect that in your lives. My husband and I almost never prayed before our supper. Now that it's become a ritual in the house, he's usually the first one to remind me that we forgot to pray before we ate. It surprised me the first time he pointed it out. I welcomed it though, because it was a connection he had begun to value. It was something "our family" was going to be doing.

Value your family. They may be crazy and drive you up a wall. They're all you're given. You may not even have a family that prays together. But a family that celebrates each other? Congratulates each other on their wins, and mourns their losses? A family that chooses to love and bless each other; now that is something to value.

Welcome to My Wonderful World.

Growing up with parents from Northwest Minnesota, you hear some interesting phrases. After moving from Kentucky to Northwest Minnesota, you hear them even more frequently. One of these phrases has lovingly taken it's place in my heart for it's laid-back diversity. Welcome to this blog, "Oh, I 'Spose."

This blog is dedicated to all my "'sposes" in life. 'Spose I should talk about this. 'Spose I should comment on that. 'Spose I should start a blog, because that's what everyone keeps asking for.

 'Spose I should explain what a 'spose is. It's just the shortened version of "suppose". The most common place I heard this growing up was the ever terrifying "twenty minute 'spose". The ruling behind this (my parents lovingly explained) was that once you said "Oh, I 'spose..." when you were about to leave somewhere, you were then bought twenty extra minutes at that place. "Well Grandma, 'spose I should be going now!" BAM. Twenty more minutes of cookies and juice. I guess I should add that you can only 'spose like that 3 times, because after an hour you've just extended your welcome. Okay, maybe not at Grandma's, but you get my point.


So here we are. A twenty-one year old youth minister and her infinite 'sposing.