snatchlings

Homemade babyfood the Nellie way

2011-03-06T09:33:00.018-05:00

I've been making my own babyfood for my daughter and it's so easy and incredibly less expensive than all those little jars. Plus I know exactly what's in it and can add my little "remedies."

Some friends and I were talking last night and I thought it might be helpful to share exactly what I do so others can get ideas.

Sweet potatoes are the base of every meal because they are filling and packed with nutrition. And easy to make a huge batch of! Mostly, they have been one of my daughter's favs, and that was super important when I thought I might have a picky baby (but now she likes hummus, salmon, tuna, and basically anything off Mommy's plate!). I get a bag of organic sweet potatoes from Trader Joe's, peel, cube, steam, and blend them in the filtered water I used to steam them in, where all the vitamins have jumped-ship into during the steaming process.

Butternut squash is probably her all-time favorite. It's so easy to buy TJ's organic already-peeled-and-cubed containers of it for $2.29 each (I do two in one batch) and steam/blend with the steam water. I thought they would only have it available in the Fall, but there it is, still on the shelves (but not since the Fall!).

So for all of these I steam and blend with the filtered "steam water" and add more water if necessary. Then I spoon or pour into ice cube trays, and when frozen store in gallon freezer bags labeled with the contents and date.

Peas: bag of organic peas from TJ's. These are harder to get a perfectly smooth puree of; one website suggested soaking in cold water immediate after cooking, which oddly enough seemed to help.

Carrots: peel, chop, and steam raw carrots...so good for babycakes!

Green beans: bag of organic (I think) green beans from TJ's. I would find an occasional fibrous string in her food after thawing these, but other than that they pureed well enough for my baby (after being cooked to death), which is saying alot (her gag reflex has required the ultra puree).

Spinach: I think frozen spinach may be pre-cooked, but I cooked it a little myself in some water and then blended. It doesn't need much water since spinach is so watery already.

Broccoli: fresh or frozen organic broccoli florets, also watery when cooked/frozen/thawed

Pears: to keep her going! At first I was cooking these and then remembered that the ped said to eat them raw for best keep-'er-going effect. So I've done both and they both seem to work. However, when pureed raw, they get brown, and I wonder if some of the vitamins have oxidized, so I think I will cook them lightly next time.

Lentils are apparently very good for you, so I cooked up some with water in the crockpot and pureed.

Chicken/broth: I read that dark meat is best for babies, so I buy a pack of organic drumsticks from TJ, cook them in water to make a nice broth as well, debone and puree the chicken with some broth, and freeze the broth in cubes as well. I've started adding some sea salt and minced garlic, for flavor and nutrition, to the chicken/broth when it's cooking and then strain the garlic out later.

So we have all these colorful squares of frozen food in our freezer and every night (when I remember), I combine them for the next day in little Libby glass bowls with lids so they can start thawing in the fridge (I like to microwave them as little as possible).

For the first few months that my daughter was eating solids, I would give her one food at a time (straight sweet potatoes, straight squash), mostly because she would spitup if I mixed things it seemed. Once she got older, she was able to tolerate a "casserole"! For example, in the morning I give her one square each of sweet potatoes, squash, and pears. After putting it in the microwave for about 30 seconds on 50 percent power, I add whole milk plain yogurt (which I add to almost everything!), Earth's Best baby oatmeal (thickens it up), and whatever "remedies" I choose. For lunch I give her sweet potatoes, lentils, pears, some chicken, and then make it more palatable with a few squirts of organic butternut squash soup from Costco, which "takes over"the casserole and gives it mostly its own (the soup's) taste. Then I add the oatmeal or rice cereal to thicken it up.

When she finishes the "main course," she can have some TJ's organic unsweetened applesauce (sometimes with some mashed banana) with more plain yogurt in it than applesauce. Well, she doesn't like things very sweet anyway.

My "remedies" are designed to boost my daughter's health and immune system. They include coconut oil, baby vitamins, little dustings from one of my probiotic capsules, little dustings from one of my Juice Plus capsules, and this Chinese herb tincture I got from my compounding pharmacist. It's so easy just to add these things to her food, and she's been sick only 3 times in 13 months!

Now that she's able to tolerate more finger foods, we are doing grated cheese (her fav!), Puffs of course (mostly on the go), freeze-dried and now fresh strawberries, puffed brown rice, avocado, peas, or bread spread with almond butter or hummus or tuna salad (yup, she's picky no more, thank God!).

When we moved to cow's milk from mama's, I started her on non-homogenized organic whole milk from a local dairy, which I can get from David's health food store down the street. I feel so good giving this to her, and will continue to as long as we can afford it. It's $6/gallon, which is actually the same price as TJ's organic, which is homogenized. Homogenization is when they force the milk through tiny holes so that it doesn't separate (fat/nonfat) but it changes the molecular structure and your body has to work harder to digest it. It's bad enough that they've killed the vitamins through pasteurization and have to add them back in.

Few things give me more deep satisfaction as a mother than giving my child the best food I can!

After one year of mommyhood

2011-01-25T12:19:00.002-05:00

...I have the following recs:

breastfeed your baby: nothing beats it for nutrition, weight loss for the mama, and snuggle time!

make your own baby food (few things give me as much satisfaction as a mom and fill me with warm fuzzy feelings that I'm giving my child the best possible start in life)

take lots of walks

don't stress too much about anything...it'll change in two weeks and you'll have a whole new set of problems

give an exorbitant amount of kisses (which, as my Mom says, are all on loan!)

take care of yourself: your baby needs a mother more than anything else

extreme sleep deprivation notwithstanding, enjoy every moment when they are small because they really do grow so fast and they'll never be small again

try your darndest not to get mad and take out your stress on your hubby those first few weeks after giving birth...it is SUCH a sweet time for the two of you (of course, in the subsequent months, it's allowed...jk!)

let your baby sleep on your chest and snuggle every chance you get...it's here and gone and all you have is warm fuzzy memories

don't try too hard to figure out the next phase of nap schedules or how you are going to wean, etc; do what planning you can but know that it will just happen when the timing's right

ask your mommie girlfriends what they did, and adapt it for your family...why reinvent the wheel? and believe me, other mommies are happy to share all that they've learned!

And I'm happy to share too. If you are a new mom, I can find the answer if I don't know it myself. I've learned so much this past year, and being a mommy is by far my funnest job yet!

On the other side of the door

2010-10-14T16:29:00.002-04:00

Last night I was feeling the glass ceiling of seemingly unanswered prayer. Annelise has been spitting up (a euphemism for full-on puke) much more the last several days, and teething is my new hypothesis after much mommy-research of which I'll spare you. (But if your child is suffering a like malady, feel free to contact me to commiserate!) I finally hit my limit, which happens now and then, and took it out on Steve, which also happens now and then, poor man.

Later when I semi-apologized, I said, "Actually it's God I'm mad at. I just feel like He's not answering my prayers. Why does He have to answer some and not others? Why can't He just do it all?" I can be as young and pouty as my baby sometimes. But, that's how I was feeling, and thank God I can voice my feelings, however childish, to my sweet wise husband.

Later still, when Annelise was whimpering in her bed, the teething-I'm-trying-to-go-to-sleep-but-can't whimper, it was late, but I kept getting out of bed to go listen to her and pray by her door. Steve had tried to close our door and listen himself, to help me go to sleep, but I just can't sleep, I told him, til babykins is sweetly sleeping. Then came the revelation from on High, that usually follows a particularly childish but honest blurt from my lips:

Annelise probably thinks I don't care, because I'm letting her whimper in her bed and fall asleep on her own. But I have no choice...it's the only way she's going to fall onto a happy sleep. (We had already rocked her.) And she has no idea that I can't sleep until she does. So with our Heavenly Father, who loves us even more (really? wow) than we love our own children. We think He doesn't hear, doesn't care. But He's perched, listening, waiting, watching, hanging on every breath, just on the other side of our door.

Silly for a smile

2010-09-24T23:35:00.003-04:00

I've been compiling a vague mental list of why parents need children, why they are a gift from God, besides the obvious of course. One reason we stodgy adults need little people in our lives is to get us in touch with the whimsical, impulsive, nonsensical side that surely everyone has, buried at some level.

My favorite memory from today is of "dancing" to and fro for an audience of one chubby cherub propped up among the pillows on our enormous sleigh bed. Leaping along the footboard with arms waving back and forth, and an arabesque thrown in for good measure, I then ran up and jumped onto the bed with a "boo," all for the smile on her formerly whimpery face and the "you're silly but very entertaining, Mommy" look in her eye. It was all I needed to make my universe complete, and to motivate still sillier exhibitions in the near future, I'm sure.

Fear not

2010-09-05T12:52:00.002-04:00

I was feeding Annelise yesterday of a gorgeous morning, after flinging the windows open around the house and letting the fresh air blow in. She is very alert to sound and gets easily distracted while eating, pulls off and looks around, then goes back. It's almost like she's having a stress dream sometimes, as she startles and tries to sit up, all in one motion, and figure out what's going on and what she's supposed to do about it. Which is strange because she's so relaxed and chill most of the time. Of course I try to reassure her in my best mommy voice that everything's okay and can we please keep eating.

Yesterday, the cool breeze kept blowing in to my delight, and consternation. The blinds in the kitchen kept banging around every time the wind blew, and babykins would startle, stop, look around, and finally go back to eating, over and over again. And of course I would reassure her each time and explain what it was she was so unduly afraid of. Finally, while I was burping her I said, "You don't need to worry, honey. I'll tell you what to be afraid of."

And then it happened. As happens even more often now that I've entered the land of parenthood, where God's voice rings louder than ever, a parallel flashed into my mind, a mind increasingly receptive with increasing life experience. "Do not worry, Janel. Do not be anxious. I will tell you what to be afraid of." Just as I know the blinds banging in the wind is harmless and irrelevant to Annelise, and completely unworthy of her energy, because of my knowledge and maturity compared to hers, so God sees me worrying unnecessarily, expending precious energy on trifles so far beneath my status as His child. Oh that I would listen to His reassuring voice and get on with what matters most.

Mmmm, toys

2010-05-14T18:40:00.003-04:00

This week she is relatively cognitively holding toys and, so begins the endless procession, putting them in her mouth! I may not be excited about this in a few months, but I am now.

Just call me Thumbelina

2010-05-14T12:02:00.007-04:00

So I have DeQuervain's Tenosynovitis, which is thumb and wrist tendinitis (read, pain) that young mothers often get from picking up their babies etc. I'm not kidding. And so the old adage that you take something for granted until you lose it is wreaking havoc in my daily life.

I had no idea you need your thumbs for virtually every routine activity:

You need your thumbs for turning on the faucet,
twisting a bottle top open (had to wait for Steve to come home),
and catching your baby so she doesn't fall over, plop, on the couch.

You need your thumbs for holding the steering wheel,
opening a Chick-fil-a tub of honey mustard sauce,
and picking up a full water bottle, ouch.

You need your thumbs for grabbing a spit rag to wipe your baby's spit,
grabbing the baby carrier and the diaper bag and another bag,
and basically grabbing anything.

You need your thumbs for cupping your hands to wash your face,
brushing your teeth...
yes, ouch, brushing your teeth!

You need your thumbs for clicking the garage door opener,
laying your baby down in the crib and picking her back up again,
and laying her back down again.

You even need your thumbs to massage your thumbs.

You really need your thumbs for texting,
and for changing the channel,
and, unfortunately, even for typing. So I'll say adieu.

And all that was just yesterday. Thank God for your opposable thumbs today, and use them wisely. You can be sure I'll do the same!

Singing

2010-05-13T21:49:00.003-04:00

Every time I put Annelise down for a nap (which, since she's still on a 3-hour schedule, is alot of times in a day), she's all swaddled up in my arms, and we rock, and I sing to her whatever hymn or praise song or little ditty (that maybe my Mommy sang to me) pops into my head. And this week, she started "singing" along. And so did my heart.

Reaching out

2010-05-10T17:39:00.005-04:00

Today she reached up to touch (hit actually...kids are so violent these days) the octopus! She's been hitting her "friends" in the bouncer that hang down, and sometimes grabs them and holds on. This is all very exciting when all she could do just a couple weeks ago was stare at them. She hadn't tried to touch anything in her "gym" though until today. Here's a picture to prove it!

An attempt to capture each new thing

2010-05-07T14:24:00.003-04:00

So our little girl, Annelise, is growing up so fast (she turned 12 weeks yesterday!), and last week she "woke up" to the world, and started "talking," halfway touching things, and using her killer abs to try to sit up from a reclining position. She did that on the whole walk pictured above. While having an advanced child is of course gratifying, I have to tell her to slow down (and Grandma in Atl echoed with a resounding "cool it") so Mommy can catch up. Can we just be a baby for a little while?

Yes, everything is happening so fast, I don't want to miss a moment of it! Furthermore, I want to capture it all, every toothless smile, every gurgle, every new milestone. I'm going to attempt to do that on this blog, just jot down the new thing of the day...until baby takes over my blog and needs her own (like I'm writing so much about anything at all...).

Today Annelise is noticing her clothes as I'm about to put them on, which to Mommy means she must be able to see color now. Or at least pink. [wink] But this morning I put on a multicolored dress that she caught sight of and stared at, and then later I changed the spit-soaked dress into a bright pink onesie, which she also stared at with great interest. (I decided she's going to need to wear two outfits a day to be able to show off all the adorable hand-me-downs we've been given!)

And yesterday she kicked her feet in the bathtub and splashed for the first time. This is all very exciting!

A little thank you, and a big one

2010-01-13T13:18:00.003-05:00

Dear Jason,

Happy New Year! I want to commend one of your employees, Laura Polzin, for her time and attention yesterday. I brought in a 5 year old Powerbook, and she treated it with reverence and me with respect and kindness, and was very attentive while I explained the problem.

After a few minutes, she determined my power adapter to be the problem, not the laptop itself, much to my relief! It seems she had the same laptop years ago and it was her first Mac, so we had that in common.

Anyway, she brought out a new power adapter, and gave me a moment to think about purchasing it. I had just bought a new one two years ago and knew how expensive they are, and was on the phone with my husband discussing the option of looking online for a cheaper one. Laura came back and offered to give me the brand new adapter for free, in exchange for my old broken one, saying she was impressed I still had an older Mac and wanted to make it last as long as possible. I was amazed!! And speechless, and extremely grateful. I could not believe it, and neither could my husband. "She can do that?!" he said.

I left the store floating, and incredulous, and more loyal to Apple than ever. And needless to say, my “PC” husband was also quite impressed. Thank you so much for the generosity of your staff (who hopefully didn’t break any rules ☺), and I ask you to publicly commend Laura for making my day and making yet another diehard loyal Apple customer out of me than I was already!

Thank you very much! Janel

Dear Heavenly Father,

I want to commend your Son for making Himself a "little lower than the angels" to identify with me, for giving me His undivided attention whenever I call on Him, and for being kind and understanding as a Shepherd to His little sheep.

Thank you that He knows me and my problems, and sees beyond my petty weaknesses to my true need for a Savior. He also correctly diagnoses my soul sicknesses and carefully explains to me how to fix them. We have so much in common because He walked this same earth that I do, inhabited this same dying flesh, and He sympathizes with my infirmities.

He presents to me the answer to my biggest problem, and also reveals the price tag, and tells me to consider before purchasing. Then, when this has sunk in somewhat, He says to me "Surprise! It's free. All you have to do is give Me your old broken power source, and I will give you this new one, free of charge." How can this be? Of course I don't want the old one that doesn't even work, and I can't believe You'll give me the New One, this new life, new heart, new body, new power...for FREE! I can barely grasp this, and I can't wait to tell others. "He can do that?!" they will say.

Thank you, Father, for the generosity of Your Son in gladly and freely dispensing the good gift of Himself, and I know that You have exalted Him above all powers and authorities and given Him the Name that is above every name. And I look forward to witnessing that with my own eyes on the Great Day.

Thank you so much! Janel

From wonder to wonder

2009-12-27T18:36:00.003-05:00

What a miraculous process this is. I don't understand how anyone having a baby can not believe in the Creator God. In reading week by week about her development, even a cursory pondering of the growth process reveals that only God could knit together a little human in the womb.

What does the heart form out of? Where does that first beat come from? How do the ears stop at the right place when moving up the head, and how are they always symmetrical? The eyes as well? Where do the ligaments and tendons start, at one bone or muscle and amazingly reach across to the right place on the other muscle? How does the placenta form from the baby and why does the baby not become tangled in the cord? How do all the organs form in the right place? How is our baby basically the same as every other in structure but completely unique in look, personality, fingerprints, and umpteen other distinguishing factors? How is this all possible? It can only be a miracle and the direct handiwork of God Himself.

My Dad has also been pondering these things more than usual as grandfatherhood has finally become a reality. He contests, and I agree, that the creation and development of a baby in the womb is even more miraculous than the creation of Adam from dust, but that because it happens every day, we miss the miracle. On Christmas Day after breakfast and before gifts, he read to us an article on all that happens with a baby's first breath outside the womb. The lungs, which have been maintained by the fluid-submerged body without yet conducting their function, expand and suddenly work the way they are supposed to for the rest of the infant's life. But the real mystery is how the heart changes its flow and very structure when the "hole" between its two sides closes over and fuses shut. You will be blown away by all that happens during the first minute after birth, and the ramifications of God's intricate design and His Son's confidence in it to become His Own creation.

The more I learn about our baby's development in the womb, the more I stand in awe (i.e. can't find words to express my wonder) of...God.

Prep for motherhood

2009-12-20T21:13:00.003-05:00

Last summer, during my first trimester, when Peanut was still a secret and I was too icky-sick to be on my laptop for long, I had a few insights into how pregnancy was preparing me for motherhood, and I am finally writing them down.

The first one was Sacrifice. All of a sudden I am appreciating my Mom even more than I did, and according to my Mother-in-law that will only continue as I journey through my own motherhood experience. One day when I was feeling overcome by nausea, I witnessed a girl back-talking to her mom in a typically ungrateful teenage voice, and thought, "How dare you?? Do you realize how much that woman has done for you just in carrying you in her body for nine months?!" But the depth of sacrifice determines the heights of joy later when it brings forth good fruit. "I have no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in the truth" (3 John 4) was a cross-stitch hanging on my Grandma's wall.

The second was Worry. Amazing how worry starts with conception, or the awareness of conception anyway. As soon as we know we're pregnant, there is something new to worry about, something we women think we have control over. If you forget to take your prenatal vitamin, you worry that the baby will be born with only one arm. If it takes more than 30 seconds for the doctor to find a heartbeat, you mentally prepare yourself for bad news. If I don't want to be the worrywart mom who can't sleep at night, I need to start now taking thoughts captive, surrendering my expectations to God, and coming to terms with even the worst my imagination can conjure up. "He knows what we need; He knows what we can handle; He will do what is best for our family."

The third came to me as I was walking out of the grocery store on a fine day in June and is my favorite. The better I take care of myself, the better I am taking care of the baby. It is so obvious now while she is in the womb, since she eats what I eat, breathes what I breathe, feels what I feel on an emotional and spiritual level. But I don't think God means that awareness to stop after birth. Moms need to take care of themselves, and to the degree we do, we are taking care of our families as well. "She makes for herself coverlets, cushions, and rugs of tapestry. Her clothing is of linen, pure and fine, and of purple [such as that of which the clothing of the priests and the hallowed cloths of the temple were made]" (Proverbs 31:22).

I pray these lessons can flower throughout my motherhood, and that you, my friend, will help me stick to 'em!

Happy in Millerland

2009-05-15T17:45:00.005-04:00

I thought I'd include a recent picture (taken by the renowned photographer Garrett Reid) of me and my fabulous husband of 10.75 months! This was taken at Kerry's wedding on March 7 in the little chapel at Simpsonwood Retreat Center in Atlanta. It was a beautiful wedding and lots of fun! I was honored to be the matron of honor.

Time management and me

2009-04-15T12:07:00.006-04:00

I have a strange relationship with Time. I hope no one else suffers from this constant struggle, but I imagine I am not the only one. I don't think I've actually put it into words in a significant way, but I wonder if the effort might effect some degree of freedom and release. So I will try.

A race. That describes my relationship with Time. (Is it strange to have a relationship with an inanimate object, if in fact that is what Time is?) I never have enough of it. The day is gone way too fast, the week, the month. My list is rarely finished, and in fact has few check marks because of interruptions of others' or my own making. Whenever I'm doing one thing, I feel like I should be doing another.

Of course this robs me of being fully engaged in the moment, of doing something whole-heartedly and thus well, of peace and patience and joy. Not to mention the stress that abides deep in my soul, weighing down my heart, stealing my life.

This problem is complex and deeply rooted (and sounds kind of silly put into words), but I wonder if the cure is simple. First of all, I am fighting a losing battle against Time. When will I give up and learn to live with unfinished tasks, enjoy the process, be satisfied with whatever I "got done" on a given day, rest in God's sovereignty, and...rest in God's sovereignty? I wonder if there the problem lies.

How can I still be dealing with this, even after a two-year rebuke called adrenal fatigue, that taught me so much about slowing down, about "being" vs "doing," about the imperative of rest and how it is not a state of inactivity, but an attitude, a letting go? It's as though as soon as I get much of my energy back, I'm at it again. Taking back control. I was so out of control before, so obviously weak, that it was easier to throw up my hands and not care as much. The depression and helplessness I felt perhaps freed me in some respects, but is that real freedom? Truth be told, I think I still obsessed over how to use my time most wisely, with the things I was still able to do.

That's it: obsessing over using my time most wisely. Most...productively. What is it I'm supposed to be doing? Is this activity worth the time and will it take me where I'm supposed to be going? Where AM I supposed to be going? These are the thoughts that haunt my solitary hours. Not as much when Steve is home, though sometimes. Not when I'm hanging out with friends or doing something scheduled and social (most of the time). But during my "free time," when I am supposed to be making the most of my precious time.

(I think bringing these thoughts to light really is helping, or will.)

Am I OCD? Why can't I just be a simpleton and enjoy the moment and whatever my hand finds to do? Or maybe not a simpleton, but a child. Oh for the joy of a child's "life in the moment"! When did I lose that? Was I any more or less out of God's will then than now? Oh for that childlike faith, the faith to play, the faith to let go, the faith that doesn't even presume it has control and leaves the timeline to Mommy.

But I am a responsible adult, and need to have something to "show" for this time. And I do. But somehow without the obsessing. And the faith that says, "I will do this now because it seems best to me, and I will focus all my energies on it, and I will leave the rest to God." Whatever your hand finds to do, do it wholeheartedly, as unto the Lord.

At the risk of a very long post, I will share some of what I learned, or rather God showed me (Oh help me to learn it, Lord!) yesterday and today. I got a massage yesterday, and it was a reminder to "be kind to myself," as my "Other Mother" told me when I was stressing over my handwriting on our wedding invitations. Her perceptive words found a place in my heart, and I wish I would remember them every day. (Aha, I predict the appearance of a note on the bathroom mirror.) God has put good things all around me. Don't miss them, Janel. Don't rush past them in pursuit of some other "good things" that you think He has.

What is His directive for how to use my time each day? "This is the day that the Lord has made [He controls Time; He has made it and dispenses it to His creation, second by second]: let us be glad and rejoice in it." He is the only god who wants His children happy. Not slaving away to earn their salvation, or replacing Him (what am I really doing? what's really going on in my heart, Lord?) with control, or doubting His ability to direct my path.

Doubt. I guess my basic problem is unbelief (wow, what a revelation). It's all there in Scripture. "The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord and He delights in his way." Psalm 37:23-24. "The lot is cast into the lap, but its every decision is from the Lord." Proverbs 16:33. "In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your path." Proverbs 3:6. I have had these verses hid in my heart for years, but perhaps I need to take them out and meditate on them again. Perhaps I have been "leaning on my own understanding" which naturally happens if I am not constantly renewing my mind with God's truth.

Our Bible study is starting Proverbs this week, and God had some follow-up nuggets to the Lesson of the Massage for me in the second chapter. "...for He guards the course of the just and protects the way of His faithful ones. Then you will understand what is right and just and fair--every good path." So often He shows me that He is doing this. When some crazy coincidence happens that only a caring and intimate Designer could design. That convinces me I'm in the right place at the right time, doing God's will, doing exactly what He would chose for me to do.

Or maybe He's just blessing me regardless. Maybe I need to sit under Glenn Hoburg again and be reminded that God blesses us because of Jesus, period. The decisions I make with a pure heart, He will bless, even if I make a mistake. Even my mistakes are made right through His redeeming power! "Though he falls, he shall not be utterly cast down, for the Lord grasps his hand in support and upholds him." Psalm 37:24. Perhaps I should start living by my life verse: "The Lord will accomplish what concerns me; Thy lovingkindness, O Lord, is everlasting; do not [surely You will not, you can not] forsake the works of Thy hands." Psalm 138:8.

A week with Frodo

2009-04-04T13:16:00.006-04:00

I have been taken to task by a girl in my Bible study for not blogging enough. "I want to know what you're thinking!" she cutely scolded. That and my own inner scolding, plus a week of being sick with the accompanying slow-down and unconscious mental sifting to reveal what's really important, was enough to move me to click the "new post" button just now.

The hardest part is always starting, for me anyway, and the longer I put something off, the more monumental it grows, and the more profound that back-in-the-saddle piece has to be, says the Perfectionist inside.

Thus, I am going to turn the Perfectionist on her head by starting out with some simple observations from my week...on the couch. I was sick all week, as those I've complained to know, with a mysterious sore throat that did not develop into other symptoms, nor would it go away. The doctor said "virus" and "they usually last 5-7 days" which means that the virus germies are either getting stronger and aim to take over the world, or I've just been very lucky for the last 34 years. I've never worked so hard to kill the germs with such slow progress. So, my friends, watch your back.

Of course, one friend had a very bizarre explanation for my symptoms, right Jo?, but I won't weary you married people with that one, as I'm sure you've heard it before.

Now that I've finished (maybe) venting about my sickness, I'll tell you what the couch and I did all week. We watched all three Lord of the Rings movies of course. How I love them! And it was a treat to watch movies during the day. These observations stuck me upon this viewing.

Perseverance. That was how evil was defeated by far-outnumbered and out-sized (as in Frodo's case) good. Perseverance, and a hope that certainly defied reality.

Those who least wanted the power (Aragorn) and responsibility (Frodo) that were fated them, were most fit for the tasks before them. Humility is certainly the precursor for true leadership.

I could not get over how those on the "good side" with the power to force their will--wizard, elf, king-to-be--still allowed men, esp kings, to make their own decisions, and worked within their decisions to bring about victory.

Gandalf uses strong language with his enemies but especially with his friends. "Better is he who rebukes than he who flatters with the tongue..."

Thank God for stories so rich in colorful lessons for the "race of men."

Marriage is . . .

2008-09-16T14:08:00.000-04:00

. . . wonderful!

wedding slideshow!

2008-07-26T20:35:00.004-04:00

www.janmichele.com/JanelSteveWedding

wedding recs

2008-07-26T19:30:00.011-04:00

I also wanted to make sure to recommend all the major vendors we used for our wedding. They MADE it! And affordably too (as weddings go). Each of them come with my highest recommendations. Spread the word.

Photographer
Jan Graves
703.975.1761
www.janmichele.com
Jan is a personal friend, since we worked together on the Hill five years ago. But she's definitely found her true calling as a photographer. From start to finish, Jan was responsive, patient with all my questions, professional, and so easygoing and fun to work with. Everyone who sees our wedding pictures exclaims, "Great pictures! Great photographer!" and our parents could not be happier with Jan and her work.

Florist
James Cox
202.232.5011
I couldn't say enough about James. He does flowers OUT of this world. And he has no set prices because will totally work with your budget. The amount and variety of flowers he used, many of them rare and costly, and the time and heart he put into each arrangement are unparalleled. Plus he saved us hundreds, maybe thousands of dollars, for the quality he gave us. He works out of the basement of Church of the Holy City on 16th St, so he's able to keep his costs down. He's also a pleasure to work with.

Caterer
Menus by Mary
703.669.6525
God guided my fingers as they "walked" through the caterer phone numbers I had in front of me that day. Mary took hold of the vision for "our fav foods" instantly and made it work within our outrageously low budget. She even added extras along the way, like a lovely wedding cake we could cut and display, and spent more time researching napkins and plates than I would have! She not only was very concerned with making me happy with each little detail, she wanted my parents to be happy as well. And we certainly were.

Wedding Coordinator
Katie Kuperus
I had Katie "locked in" as my wedding coordinator months before Steve even proposed! She was thoroughly organized and helped with ideas and research, meetings at the church, keeping track of finances, and all the myriad details that go into wedding planning. She'd be worth anything she charged. Email me if you're interested in her services.

Makeup
Tanya Curtis
443.739.4629
Tanya was recommended to me by some of Steve's friends since she has her own business doing makeup for brides. At our consultation, she had creative and beautifying ideas, but also listened to my input and preferences. On the morning of the wedding, she was timely, poised, and added a spirit of relaxation. My makeup "stayed put" the whole day and I was thoroughly pleased.

Venue
McLean Presbyterian Church
703.821.0800
www.mcleanpres.org
Available for weddings to members of PCA churches, this newly renovated church building was gorgeous and perfect for our needs, and is relatively affordable for the DC area. The church assigns a wedding and reception hostess to help you. Just make sure you read their Wedding Handbook before you decide to book with them, because there are no exceptions to the rules.

Hotel
Courtyard by Marriott, Tysons Corner VA
Mary Ann Navarrete
703.584.2132
They gave us a great deal at $89 and $109 per night, and threw in some other perks as well if we reached a certain number of rooms. Mary Ann was a delight to work with.

Bridesmaids Tea
Henley Park Hotel, Chinatown area
Megan Showers
202.414.0509
www.henleypark.com
When the original venue for my bridesmaids tea fell through, I called the Henley Park Hotel in desperation, and they were such a breath of fresh air, being professional and friendly get-it-doners. The lower level of their tea room is perfect for parties of 10 or so, and the food/drink was yummy. Ahhh, so lovely and relaxing.

Attire
David's Bridal, Rockville MD
www.davidsbridal.com
I know David's can be hit-or-miss, and many of their locations are ghetto, but Mom and I had a fantastic experience with the Rockville location. Make an appointment to try on dresses during the week, as the weekends are too hectic. We went on a Friday morning; there was only one other bride trying on dresses with me, which added to the fun and valuable input; the staff was responsive; and if you need alterations, Maria with 30 years of experience is your lady. Plus the prices for the quality really are unbeatable. Who needs those stuffy boutiques? (no offense)

Name changing
www.missnowmrs.com
So easy! All you do it pay $30, plug in your information, and print out all the forms you need. Done!

DC recs

2008-07-26T19:25:00.002-04:00

So my old roommate just asked for recommended doctors in DC, and of course after six years, I've found some super ones and am happy to pass them on. Thought I'd let the whole world in on this important info, just in case you or a friend live/work in DC.

Dentist
Dr. Thompson or anyone at
Capitol Dentistry
412 First St SE (near Bullfeathers)
202-863-1600
Everyone's so nice, and they do nifty stuff like measure your gum recession and take pictures so they can track over time...oh wait, TMI : }

GP
Dr. Linda Assatourians
2141 K St NW Ste 606, Washington, DC 20037
202-223-2283
Just really nice and fun, "our age," chatted for half an hour after my apt about life...like a friend

Gyn
Capital Womens Care
2141 K St, Suite 808
202-331-9293
Even the man doctor is very disarming and nice (but there's women docs too)

Eye
My Eye Doctor, in Friendship Heights, right next to the Panera and Chipotle on Willard
Dr. Berry
301-951-3373

Hope this is helpful!

"We just got engaged!"

2008-03-05T11:35:00.014-05:00

“Working hard. Thinking about u a lot.” Such was the thoughtful text I got from my boyfriend on a particularly mundane day at work two Thursdays ago. Mundane because we weren’t google-chatting every five seconds. This was unusual, but he had told me he had some stuff to get done, and he’d won my trust too well for me to think anything otherwise. Little did I know that what he was working hard on would affect my weekend and my future so drastically.

“Planning of my own. Think you could wait till 1130 for brunch? I'll make it for u.” That was his text to my “whatcha doin?” the following Saturday morning. He said he wanted to get a jump on my birthday and celebrate it with me before my friends and family did later that week. Make me brunch? What better bday gift could there be?? Of course I can wait, especially if you make it for me!

So he drove down from Columbia, paid his respects to the Giant in my basement, and brought up all the fixin’s for a mega-pointage brunch...and flowers, of course. Pink gerbera daisies. That was all too usual for thoughtful Steve.

After a yummy brunch and a couple games of Sequence (the only game I can regularly beat him in), we set out to go ice skating, as I’d been wanting to do all winter. The ice skating rink in the Sculpture Garden on the Mall is small and round, with white lights swooping from lamppost to lamppost all the way around, and they play love songs while you skate. Equals...romantic. The last time I had gone there I was very single, and vowed never to go back alone. Which made being there with Stevo even more special for me.

When we parked the car, he got his backpack out and was carrying it to the rink with us. “I need this for something.” It occurred to me after several blocks that this might be It. There could be a ring in there. Oh but wait, a ring is much to small for a backpack. He would just have it in his pocket. Nope, don’t be silly, Janel. There you go again. It’s only a birthday present.

He took the backpack out on the ice with us, but within minutes the ice nazis were on the loudspeaker reminding the blissfully ignorant crowd that no cameras, cell phones or backpacks were allowed on the ice. Back we went to stash the backpack with Steve’s shoes, out in the open with everyone else’s.

During the zamboni break, I suddenly realized the significance of the neighborhood we were in, as many of our first dates took place around there, and said, “This hood has been good to us.”

After skating, Steve wanted to walk around the Mall a bit. I’m always game for a walk, even in 40-degree weather, and the Mall is one of my favorite places. The sun was setting and we got a picture with the Capitol in the background because, horrors, we didn’t have one of those yet. As we kept walking, and walking, finally Steve said, “I’m looking for a place to give you something.” It’s a birthday present, Janel. Don’t get any ideas. Birthday.

So we ended up back in the Sculpture Garden, finally found “the right” spot, and Steve whips a 2-page poem out of his backpack and starts reading. It’s entitled “Thirty-two” and in true Stevo style details the past year and our story. It included allusions to our first dates in that “hood” and he pointed them out as he lyricized about them. It was poignant, and funny, and I was crying, and laughing, in turn. But, this could still be a birthday thing, so I still wasn’t sure where he was going. However, the poem climaxed with “Janel, I will never forget when you were a young thirty-two/For it will forever be the age when I first loved you.” And he said “I love you” for the first time. (And so did I!)

Now for the out-of-body moment, the “this can’t be happening to me”/“I’ve waited my whole life for this”/“he’s actually proposing” five seconds of surreality. He kept reading, a third page of prose where he said he believed “God has prepared us and brought us together to weather the storms of life and to know His love for us even more.” And then he was fumbling with a (very pretty) ring box and getting down on one knee (I somehow wondered if he would do this, in all my confusion of thoughts and emotions), asking me to marry him. I said yes, but not the way I wanted to. Not with profundity or all the excitement I felt or the grace that should attend such fateful answers. Such is life, right? We were both giggling uncontrollably, and I was crying alternately, and we were perfect in our mutual nervousness and joy and beside-ourselves-ness.

We called my parents, who were ecstatic and had been ready to burst all week. And that’s when Steve told me what he’d been “working so hard on” two days before. He had FLOWN down to Atlanta FOR THE DAY, to talk with my Dad, and I’d seen him that night and had no idea! In fact, he’d gotten back to the office to g-chat a “have a good trip home” before I left the office, as he always did, and I was clueless! My dad had given him some pictures of me growing up, along with an “intelligence test for those wishing to marry Janel Lynn Reid” which consisted of such conundrums as connect-the-dots...with two dots. This was all contained in the now-famous backpack, along with a letter to me from my dad. As if I weren’t crying already...

We got someone to take our picture in front of the ice skating rink at dusk. I hesitated after he took it and then blurted out, “we just got engaged!” He beamed and shook Stevo’s hand. My fiance...my fiance’s hand! (Whaaat???!!!)

We celebrated over hot chocolate in the café there in the garden, and compared stories that we couldn’t tell before. “I thought this...” “I was really doing that...” And I watched my ring sparkle as I tipped my cup.

I love stories with a redemptive theme, and ours is in so many ways. Even down to where we got engaged. Last May, I was supposed to meet Steve and Whitey and Kara for lunch in the Sculpture Garden, but I got randomly sick with a 24-hour bug and was stuck on the couch all day. Instead, almost ten months later, we got engaged in that very spot.

A Nellie year-in-review

2007-12-31T12:56:00.000-05:00

This morning I remembered my verse for 2007. I was so down a year ago, and with good reason. It was the season of "breakup and breakdown." I was heartbroken and body-broken. My first real boyfriend had just broken up with me, and I was so exhausted I missed almost all my Christmas parties, and my doctor could only say "eat better and exercise more."

Life was so depressing as it was, that I needed to believe that things could change, for the better, that God could still do miracles. That He was the God of Surprises. That when my life felt over and the future was like gaping into a black hole (I'll never forget feeling that way), that somewhere God was working in secret, cooking up a surprise for His beloved. So I chose Ephesians 3:20 out of sheer desperation and willed it to be true.

God always fulfills the verse I pick for a new year, often, if not always, with a twist I never expected. I would think the verse meant one thing, but by the end of the year I'd realized a deeper meaning that usually involved less of earthly stuff and whatever I'd wanted it to mean, and more of God and receiving more of Him.

Once again that happened this year. In this very moment actually. I looked at the verse again a second ago and a different set of words stood out to me. Ohhh.... I always focused on the "do far above my hopes and dreams" part. But the Amplified Version says just before that: "is able to carry out His purpose...." Hmm, that is it, isn't it? Not that by trying real hard God can muster up enough might and goodness to bump reality up a few notches above my dreams and desires. But that He has a purpose, and it's already way out in front of my slummy mud-pie dreams, and He is able to bring it to pass. His purpose. And He will!

And He did. He's redeeming my body: I've regained much of my energy, and can't believe how much better I'm feeling (as I recover from adrenal fatigue and low thyroid). And even more exciting, He's redeemed my heart, in the person of my "superabundantly, far over and above" boyfriend Steve. And even more ginormous, He's proved Himself to me yet again, that He is enough and all I need, and if I just hang with Him I'll be okay. He really does give strength for each day...or each shuffle down the metro platform when I thought I was going to faint.

But His purpose is still far above mine. I didn't expect to have to make such radical dietary and work and lifestyle changes or become such an introvert this year. But He's using those changes, those little deaths actually, to set me free from obsession over my weight, over-commitment, basing my worth on performance, and people-pleasing and insecurity. The first time I met Steve, I didn't see in him the "man of my dreams." But he has consistently surprised me with his affectionate ways, uprightness and desire to guard my heart, ability to see and know the real me, openness to saying and hearing whatever needs to be said, sense of humor, willingness to enter my world, desire for accountability and instruction, and...unexpected visits at Christmastime!, etc.

His purpose is to set me free. His purpose is to give me joy. His purpose is to enable me to become what He created me to be.

A few nights ago, our family was watching a Christian "movie" called The Perfect Stranger, where Jesus invites this woman to dinner and over the course of the meal she goes from antagonist to convert. We eventually had to fast-forward because we couldn't handle the cheese. But one thing "Jesus" said has stuck with me ever since: "There's a difference between 'heaven' and 'eternal life.' Heaven is a place. Eternal life is a Person. Heaven is the place where God lives, but eternal life starts when God lives in you.... When Jesus offered eternal life to His followers, He was offering Himself."

If that's God's purpose, and He is able to do it, then I'll take it!

Now to Him Who, by (in consequence of) the [action of His] power that is at work within us, is able to [carry out His purpose and] do superabundantly, far over and above all that we [dare] ask or think [infinitely beyond our highest prayers, desires, thoughts, hopes, or dreams]--

To Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations forever and ever. Amen (so be it). Ephesians 3:20-21, Amplified

p.s.

2007-12-03T17:49:00.000-05:00

And an hour later I burned my tongue on the chicken soup. Back to earth for Nellie. I guess we still live in a fallen world afterall.

Thankfulness soup

2007-12-03T14:13:00.000-05:00

You know those moments when everything in your life combines just right and for a solid minute your heart is caught up in the praise to God it should feel constantly? Like when the last ingredient gets stirred into the soup and the aroma fills your nose until you can't inhale anymore. And you want to just keep smelling, but it's not the same.

That just happened for me. I'm still in my pajamas, making chicken soup and discovering again how much I like to cook, how therapeutic it is, and getting those fuzzy feelings of well-being every time I chop another carrot or catch a whiff of broth.

As if that wasn't enough to thrill my heart, I got a job today. It's official. I start my office/receptionist job at Eagle Publishing next Monday. I needed another part-time job after nannying comes to a sad end this week (baby's mom's job is ending), and this one is perfect: just afternoons 5 days a week, with nice people and low-stress work, an easy commute and great location (by Union Station), a chance to learn more about publishing and conservative ideals and support an organization I believe in.

The best ingredient in my soup however is the fact that Steve is taking me out to dinner tonight for our six-month (dating) anniversary. He's the best! And God's sweetest surprise of this surprising year.

Add Amy Grant's "Grown Up Christmas List" (while reading The Kite Runner) to the mix, and an extra dash of God's presence, and you have the perfect recipe for happy tears and a thankful heart.

Redemption is better than perfection

2007-11-08T16:07:00.001-05:00

...otherwise God would never have put the tree in the Garden of Eden, or allowed sin into His perfect world.

How can I be more of a perfectionist than God?

Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers

2007-10-30T12:27:00.000-04:00

Have y'all read this book? I guess it came out a decade ago, and I'd heard people rave about it, but I just hadn't gotten around to buying and reading it.

That's what sisters are for! Kerry read it and raved about it, but she was also generous enough to lend it to me and leave me with no excuse for not reading it.

I thought it might be another cheesy Christian book, but I opened to the first page...and never put it down (except to do all the necessary things in life). My boyfriend Steve can attest that I have become it's biggest raver of all.

I have never (and I grew up in a Christian home and worked for two churches) seen the Gospel portrayed so vividly. And I do mean seen. It takes a story to paint the Gospel, doesn't it? And this story, an allegory of the Book of Hosea, of a pure and upright man marrying a prostitute, comes close to doing Redemption justice. The contrast is so stark between innocence and defilement, humility and stiff-neckedness, selflessness and self-loathing. And when you see God in the former and yourself in the latter, over and over, it breaks your heart.

I think I shed a tear for every 10 pages of this book. There it was again, the love of God! Seeing me in the brothel, binding Himself to me, taking me home with Him, washing me and caring for me, anguishing when I go back to my sin, and going out to find and rescue me again (and again, and again).

Now that I'm finished, I miss Angel and Michael and Miriam, and I wish I could find out how they're doing. If you haven't read it, read it. If you have, read it again.

(Thanks B!)

Don't be so

2007-10-17T10:09:00.000-04:00

It hit me this morning. Finally.

I'd had a horrible morning yesterday. One bad thing let to another, that seemed out of my control. I couldn't get up in the morning because I have fatigue. So I was late leaving for work. So I got stuck on construction traffic on Rock Creek Parkway. So I had to make up time when I finally broke free 45 minutes later. So I had to yell at the slow driver in front of me on Spout Run, and race around him when we finally got two lanes. So I got a ticket. So I melted into hot tears and blamed God the rest of the way to work. And all morning. I'm such a victim!

It was annoying that I instantly realized that slow car was "mercy"...God's direct intervention to KEEP me from getting a ticket, because He knew the cop was around the corner, sitting in her mustang cop car. But that just rubbed salt in my wound.

I felt like life was caving in, and I just couldn't handle being sick with fatigue anymore, and God was rubbing it in my face.

As the day went on, I mellowed of course. And by evening at Bible study, we were on speaking terms. But it finally hit me this morning...the lesson He was (lovingly) trying to teach me.

DownHere has a song called "Don't Be So," and it was written for me. Stevo put the intro on my phone as the text alert, so it's been stuck in my head for the last 24 hours. One line struck me this morning as I made breakfast. "...Cuz it's not we, and it's not you who's going to save the day." Oops, I was trying to save the day again.

You know how at work when a coworker takes over part of your job description and totally disregards that that task belongs to you, you know how you feel? Threatened, angry, disrespected, not to mention convinced it will fail in their hands. Well, God must feel the same way when I try to save myself. When I take on my problems (that He allowed) as my own. It's just so obvious now, that all morning I was looking to myself to get me to work on time and save the day for everyone, never pausing to look up and ask for help.

Thanks Lord (through gritted teeth and reluctant heart) for saving me from false-savior Nellie.

Tribute to three years at Grace DC

2007-09-08T13:00:00.000-04:00

[this third and final essay I dedicate to my beloved fellow staff members with
Grace DC]

Select some experience from which you have derived exceptional benefit and describe it, explaining its value to you.

It’s 1:35, and I’m hustling along my favorite strip of Pennsylvania Avenue SE. But its cafes and bookstore and happy lunchtime crowd of Hill staffers is lost on me as I scurry to my appointment, late again.

As I enter the Starbucks on the corner, “our Starbucks” as labeled by me and my coworkers, I breeze past the ever-present line and busy baristas. Up the back stairs I climb to the second floor, and voila, I’m only the third person there. Phew, beat the boss.

It’s that time of the week again, staff meeting.

Staff meetings in my experience have been as varied as the organizations and bosses I have worked for. Often they have been stiff, tedious affairs where only my enjoyment of my coworkers’ individual personalities and my own optimism has kept me coming. Not that I had a choice.

But staff meeting at Starbucks has been different. The church for which I work did not own office space for its first three years of existence, and I and my coworkers officed out of our homes. Where else would we meet but the coffee shop? And what better place would represent the whole staff meeting experience for us?

It was the highlight of my week, and my coworkers became my primary community in DC. We would gather together, banter and laugh, share stories and reports of the workweek or from our personal lives. Our boss would assign books at various times that we would read during the week and discuss together, books about Washington DC or about personal growth. And later we would go over the business at hand.

It was this group of true friends to whom I could voice struggles that I could barely admit to myself. It was to them I went for help and advice and prayer. More Starbucks napkins wiped tears than coffee spills, and that’s saying a lot.

“What stood out to you in this section of the book?” Glenn, my boss would ask, creating a freedom to expound disagreements and insights. This freedom carried over into our prayer time where we could share what was going on in our lives under the surface of efficiency and smiles. Such authenticity on a leadership level trickles down to the entire church congregation, not to mention the healthy staff culture and strong friendships it sustains.

Our Starbucks days are over now that we have office space, but staff meeting and the “coffee shop atmosphere” are going strong. And now that we’re thrown together in the office five days a week, the foundation of respect and openness is showing up in compatibility, equality, and true enjoyment of one another. I may be sick of Starbucks coffee by now, but thanks to their store on Pennsylvania Avenue, I’m by no means sick of my coworkers.

Gift of limits

2007-09-08T12:12:00.000-04:00

[this one is ironic, considering it talks about limits and my adrenal fatigue, which very things led to my withdrawal from the College : }]

Choose some book that has been important in shaping and deepening your thoughts. Discuss and develop a single aspect of it (not the book as a whole) that you consider to be particularly significant.

...Among the most influential books I’ve read, The Emotionally Healthy Church by Peter Scazzero is a recent example of a book that changed the way I think and thus live my life. I have adopted it as my “life manifesto” and purposed to reread it regularly. One chapter that was revolutionary for me a year ago when I read it, and has continued to bear fruit in my life in the form of some considerable breakthroughs, is “Principle 4: Receive the Gift of Limits.” It explains how in our desire to help people and make our own lives significant, human nature tends to take responsibility for the people around us beyond our own abilities, schedule, priorities, and even health. And we overextend or misapply who we are and what we are meant to do in this world by trying to prove something, maintain an image, please people, and right all wrongs. In short, we end up playing God by thinking we can “save” ourselves, the people around us, and even the world. We deny our limitations or try to overcome them in our headlong rush to fix everything, not realizing that limitations are a gift to remind us that we cannot fix everything, and are not expected to…and will die trying if we do.

This was a revelation to me a year ago because during the last decade of full-time nonprofit work and volunteer service, I have largely labored out of those misapprehensions. I allowed myself to be controlled by other people’s needs and neediness, instead of deciding what I could give and where to draw the line, and sticking to it. Guilt and fear were among my motivations for service. I compared myself with those around me for my sense of approval and rightness. I sacrificed my body on the altar of whatever I thought, or my boss thought, needed to be done and was the willing subject of Tyrant Urgency.

For someone to tell me it was okay to have limitations, that they were something not simply to be borne but embraced, as a source of peace and direction and dependency on God and others, was radical and refreshing to a weary soul. And I let this truth begin to change my thinking and renew my mind and perspective on life and service. Not only did I start letting myself off the hook and stop trying so hard, but I had the freedom to do the same for others, and allow those around me to fail, be human, be late, be messy, and basically be accountable to God for their lives alone as I was for mine alone. The control freak loosened her grasp.

In recent weeks I have been relearning this lesson, but on a deeper level than a year ago. Although I have made progress in embracing my limitations and letting go, I am now realizing just how extensive and deeply rooted is this tendency throughout my personality and lifetime. I am appalled and amazed. As the oldest child in my family, I tended to overprotect my siblings or take on my parents' burdens that were too heavy for me. My seventh grade birthday party was a flop because I was so worried my friends weren’t having a good time and it was my job to make sure they did. In high school I felt so responsible to be a good example to my peers that reputation management and fear constricted my personality. Even now, I find myself apologizing too often, blaming myself for unmet needs outside my jurisdiction, and rushing around as if the world depended on my perfect and timely execution of everything on my to-do list.

Thus enters upon the stage a limitation enemy turned friend: Janel’s Unconquerable Fatigue of 2006. In searching for remedies and answers for an exhaustion I could not explain or overcome, I started reading The Hidden Link Between Adrenaline and Stress, which surprisingly built upon the principles in The Emotionally Healthy Church. Also surprising is a change in my thinking that it brought about, which strongly influenced me to consider attending college at this season in my life. As arrogant as it sounds, deep down I believed the world “needed” me to stay in full-time nonprofit service because of my contributions to it and its needs. Suddenly I am not only set free to pursue personal enrichment (which will hopefully benefit others someday of course, but not “right now” as Urgency demands), but I see it as necessary to discovering who I am and developing my gifts and proving to myself that the world will get along just fine “without me.” Yes, my well-meaning arrogance is glaringly exposed when I put it like that. And how freeing exposure can be!

Road less traveled

2007-09-08T12:08:00.000-04:00

[reading back over my college application essays from last winter, I realized they tell my story pretty well, and thought I'd stick them on Snatchlings just for kicks. this is the first one.]

Explain in detail why you wish to attend St. John's College; please evaluate the strengths and weaknesses of your formal education to date.

First of all, allow me to say thank you for recognizing the pressures inherent to academics and the filling out of applications, and for putting prospective students at ease in saying that perfection is not expected. I find that attitude refreshing, humanizing, and further confirming that St. John’s is uniquely intentional in fostering an atmosphere truly conducive to personal growth and enrichment.

Speaking of unique, I myself would undoubtedly fall into that category. I took “the road less traveled,” and it certainly has made all the difference. In my outlook on life, experiences, relationships, values; most of who I am today, actually. I am thirty-one years old, and have not yet been to college. I have worked for a Georgia State Representative and for a Member of Congress, advised and developed programs for mayors and city leaders on innovative community initiatives, compiled and designed an 80-page book that has been translated into six languages and has sold 85,000 copies worldwide, mentored juvenile delinquents and tutored inner city kids, and helped start a thriving church in the District of Columbia. All without a college degree.

However, I had no idea where my road would take me, and certainly never envisioned the above. I was simply acting on faith and the information I had at the time. Upon graduating from high school, I had been accepted to five good colleges with partial scholarships from each. Nevertheless college tuition would have been a financial strain on my family, since my dad had lost his job the year before, and at that same time my family was becoming involved with a nonprofit organization, which college-aged students were dropping out of college to attend. So I decided to put off college and join this nonprofit program for a year. During that time I was more happy, free, and fulfilled than perhaps ever before. Thus I chose to stay in that program for what turned into eight adventurous, growth-inspiring years.

Several times have I applied to various colleges, and several times have I been accepted only to be suddenly rerouted by the hand of Providence into some unforeseen adventure. In honoring God and His timing for my life, I believe He has honored me by providing enriching relationships and opportunities I would not have had by “following the herd” to college or high-paying jobs, simply because the “herd” was doing it.

However. However. I loved academics in high school, and my Latin teacher was appalled that I wasn’t going to college. Although I received an outstanding high school education, there is so much I want to know about the history of the world, the great minds that shaped it, and the why’s of things. I would originally have majored in English and minored in history, and find that I would still do just that, except that my interests have grown to encompass government, philosophy, psychology, and language. Sometimes I wonder where I am deficient in knowledge my contemporaries may have, and sometimes, honestly, I wonder if I made the right choice that summer out of high school. Most of all, I have a lust for life and learning. While recognizing that the latter comes through infinite media in the world around us over the span of a lifetime, I acknowledge the value of an intense, set-apart season of study and discussion in the universe of the university…as long as that universe is not divorced from the real one.

I do not “need” a degree in the sense that I have gotten along quite well without one for over thirteen years, and do not currently intend to pursue professional or trade certification. However, I need to develop and use my gifts to the fullest. I need to enrich my mind and soul for enrichment’s own sake and for the journey ahead. And suddenly I need to devour great books and write papers and discuss and form opinions and listen and grow and change and become!

St. John’s is both the beginning and the end of that recently-felt need. Its unique curriculum has reignited my passion for learning and will also fulfill it, should I be admitted. Its approach to learning and love for freedom and connection to reality all combine to convince me that perhaps this is what I was meant to wait for. And I trust it will be worth the wait.

Cast all yur cares

2007-06-29T14:39:00.000-04:00

I hit forward on my email and pass the problem on to the next person and delete it from my inbox, never to trouble myself about it again. All the time. Every day.

Why can't I forward each of my problems to God and hit delete?

The streams on earth I've tasted

2007-06-23T12:05:00.001-04:00

Perhaps the more I learn to see and hear and appreciate beauty on earth, the more wowed I will be by heaven. Perhaps earth is an art appreciation course for heaven.

I feel heaven at the most random times. It's always a surprise, and can never be contrived. I can't demand a sign, but I can wait for one, hope for one, be ready for one. A sign that beauty is all around us, and there's so much more to be discovered, and that I'm not crazy to look for it, and that it's seeking me and wants to enrapture me.

That part of the Pirates II soundtrack bursting through my iPod and adding a spring to my jogging steps. The lushness of my "babies" blooming away in their pots on the balcony. The curiously random yet orderly spread of elm branches which can only be seen by one who dares to lie in the grass and look up. Beauty is found in the smallest of things. The cracks in heaven's wall are tiny slivers and require creeping up close and pressing one eye to the hole.

We were made for euphoria, but for now we get crumbs and teasers. Let us feast on these and follow our noses for more.

The way of escape

2007-05-29T11:11:00.000-04:00

I was at our staff retreat this past weekend (no work, all play, don't worry!), and we were reading and talking about suffering, as many of us have had a very hard year. We'd read a piece by Joni Erickson Tada about her accident and subsequent journey from anger at God to peace. The turning point for her was not the gobs of friends who sat by her hospital bed and read the Bible to her, but when her friend Jackie snuck into her room after hours, snuggled up next to her in her bed, and held her hand...holding it up so Joni could see her squeeze it, since she couldn't feel it. It was love that opened Joni's heart and suddenly she didn't need answers to all of her questions.

We started highlighting the points of the story that were meaningful for us. True to (awkward?) form, I wanted to make the discussion real, so I blurted out (through tears, ugh) something about how on Thursday I'd been so done with the work day
and I'd lugged the bulletins all the way to Kinkos
and stood there for 10 minutes (because they always take so long)
and then they told me the folder was broken
and I just stared at the guy
and...it was the last straw
and I had a meltdown with God
and told Him exactly what I thought of my life and how He was treating me,
and then I somehow found peace.
But my real question had nothing to do with bulletins but life: “how do I deal with suffering when life doesn’t let up and I can’t seem to find rest for my soul?”

We all kind of sat there after my blurt, until Glenn said something to try to comfort me. And Jean Baldwin sought me out afterward with words of deep understanding and wisdom. But I spent the rest of the weekend obsessing about how I'd made things awkward and piled my junk on other people and should try to be more sensitive next time.

However, blurts get God's attention. And His help, His breakthroughs, His peace. David knew it, and I am learning it.

During Glenn's sermon Sunday night God whispered “the answer” (really just His love, like Jackie) through I Corinthians 10:13. In every trial and every temptation, He not only has measured it out according to what I can handle, but embedded in the trial is a “way of escape.” It’s there. He always puts it there. And I can look for it. I must look for it. It will get me through. Kind of like a treasure hunt, the search for the golden Way of Escape. Follow the yellow brick road.

But the main point is...His love. I get most upset because I think the trial reveals He doesn’t care, that He’s trying to hurt me, that I really am all alone in this world and have to fend for myself. But if the trial is a Hand-crafted work of love for my benefit, how much more is the way of escape? How much more would He be designing a specific mercy, or a heap of mercies—and lessons and truths and illuminations—to lavish on me through the ordeal and afterward. I was so humbled by my lack of faith, attributing to God un-love, even indifference and malice (though it sure feels like that sometimes, eh? How to balance His sovereignty with the presence of evil...another question for the universe).

“In all their affliction, He was afflicted; and the angel of His presence saved them...” (Isaiah 63:9)

Constant entertainment...for free

2007-05-23T20:51:00.000-04:00

I think I'm gonna keep a running list of the bizarre people I see on the street every day in DC. (You inspired me to do this tonight, T...not because you're bizarre, but because we talked about it.) Feel free to add yur own in the comments section! (obviously some of you feel freer than others...T!)

[at 9th and Penn] a lady with hiking/skiing poles, just walking along the sidewalk and using them to help her hike the sites

[by the Washington Monument] a guy riding a bike that was three times as tall as any person walking by, like a clown...how did he even get up on the seat, let alone keep his balance?

[at 7th and Indiana] a perfectly normal college-aged guy in t-shirt and jeans quoting Hamlet's soliloque (or something Shakespeare) with drama and passion, to no one

[walking up 7th to the Chinatown metro] one of those Vikings from the Capital One commercials...I'm seeeerious

32 year old freshman!

2007-05-18T12:32:00.000-04:00

A week ago yesterday I got a call that changed my life. And a week ago today I made a road trip that will become my daily commute.

Every 3-5 years I apply to whatever college seems best for me. Just as I did my senior year of high school, although at that time I decided to forgo scholarships from five schools in order to do full-time ministry. And I kept making that decision.

So this past winter I applied to St. John's College in Annapolis because they have the best "great books" program, and I am all about great books. However, the tuition was super steep, and if I didn't get a miraculous chunk o' cash, I knew the whole idea was preposterous. Then, I was diagnosed with adrenal fatigue, so my entire life appeared to be on hold for years to come.

So I tossed aside the letter from St. John's saying I was eligible for a humongous grant...if only they had the money in hand. And I checked the box "stay on the waiting list for this fall" because it was the only free option, and I wasn't gonna pay a $300 deposit for something that wasn't gonna happen anyway.

Then, two weeks ago, the call came. I even ignored the call and said with disdain under my breath, thinking it was a work call, "don't bother me on my lunch break."

It was St. John's telling me my patience had come to fruition and I'd received the humongous grant. Patience? I had totally given up. And once again, God resurrected my dream and got all the glory.

So I decided I should probably visit the school, did so the next day, and by the time I left I knew I couldn't turn down this opportunity.

So here I go!

Annapolis is only 30 minutes from DC, with no traffic (the wildcard). So my plan at least for now is to commute and keep living in DC, going to my church, maybe working PT for them, and keep getting to hang out with my friends. (I'll need some my own age!)

It is a unique school (why else would I be going there?) in that everyone goes through the same program and comes out with a BA in Philosophy. You read all the great books of philosophy that have shaped history, starting with the ancient Greeks (and learning the ancient Greek language to boot) up to the present day over four years. Everyone reads these books, or portions of them, and gathers to discuss them twice a week with the same group of 18 or so fellow students. The rest of the curriculum revolves around that core with the philosophy of math and science, language, and music. Oh and there are no tests or exams, just lots of papers. The professors are called "tutors" and the ratio is 8 to 1 as they strive to be super-accessible for one-on-one discussion. The goal of the college is to expose the student to the great works and allow him to hammer out for himself what he believes and learn to articulate it.

This is my college story so far. And I'm sure they'll be lots of entertaining mini-dramas to come.

His care in my carelessness

2007-04-22T21:24:00.000-04:00

When I pulled into my parking space at church tonight, there was a wallet sitting on the trunk of my car. On top of the trunk. Teetering on the edge. It was mine.

Right where I'd left it.

I exploded in a short nervous laugh. Then a sober, "whoa...Lord...uh, thank You..."

Then I remembered. I'd placed it there four blocks ago when I was putting the bulletins in the back seat of my car outside the Kinkos at 7th and K. I can't believe I left my wallet on top of my car. I mean, a starbucks cup is totally understandable, but my wallet. Well, maybe I can believe it.

Anyway, I'd made three sharp turns, one of them pretty fast (as I tried not to hit this poor Asian couple trying to cross 8th Street, right in front of the church no less). And I'd circled my way down the parking garage ramp. Nobody swiped it as I was waiting for the light at 7th and H. And that place is crawling with pan-handlers begging for a quarter.

I needed that. My faith is weak. I think I have to take care of myself, hold it all together, keep track of my stuff. But God was looking out for me, as He always is. As I force Him to work overtime to do. I think I require two angels these days.

Thanks Jesus. Not for covering my butt this time, but for the reminder that You are ALWAYS doing it, whether I realize it or not.

I love free stuff

2007-04-13T20:23:00.000-04:00

I just found out tonight why it is hard for the rich to enter the Kingdom. They don't like free stuff. Or they don't take it anyway.

I was at Whole Foods, treating myself since there's alot I can't eat right now as I recover from adrenal fatigue. My book said, "enjoy your recovery." And I intend to!

In the checkout line, the man in front of me set down asparagus, oranges, soup, red roses, and a lovey-dovey card. I thought, "How sweet." And the checkout lady said, "How sweet."

Then she ran away with a "Wait, I know what she really wants!" leaving the man and I standing there, speculating, waiting, making those two-word semi-witty comments you make to strangers in the checkout line when something unusual happens. (Or not so unusual, like the person in front of you at the self-checkout line getting confused, needing help, taking forever. But I'm not going to get sidetracked in my story by all my checkout line peeves.)

Finally the lady came back with a round clear plastic Whole Foods-ish container. "Grapes and cheese...that is what women really want! Try some." He said they had cheese at home and no thank you. "Oh, just try it. You don't have this at home. She'll love it...it's on the house." Nope, no thank you. We're fine.

What?? Did he understand it was free stuff? You never turn down free stuff, mister (especially gourmet free stuff). FREE...STUFF...

He walked away, and he took away. He took away the joy of giving his wife free stuff, a gift from Whole Foods for their anniversary (I would have been impressed if I were said lucky wife). He took away the checkout lady's joy of recognizing his anniversary and giving him a gift. And he took away my peace of mind because now I felt bad for the lady but was unsure how to make her feel better.

Until she offered it to me. Then we were both happy again. Ha!

As I walked away, I was glowing. And I glowed all the way home. Jesus had just given me free stuff! He had taken from the rich and given to the poor. Those who don't need anything turn down free gifts. They'd rather pay for what they take and not accept charity. Those who are open to charity and to surprises are open to God showing up, in stuff like grapes, and cheese, and stables, and mangers. Lord, open my heart and keep it open.

New eyes

2007-03-26T21:40:00.000-04:00

Lord, help me turn my gripes into thankfulness, my negativism into praise. Give me new eyes to see Your good and beautiful gifts all around me.

Beneath a sickly surface

2007-03-21T20:20:00.000-04:00

I have a rare opportunity. To be a voice for the sick. Because suddenly I am one, and I want someone to tell my friends for me...

That it has nothing to do with them when I'm irritable and impatient. It's the sickness talking. Or, all my energy is required just to sit up or walk or keep pecking away at my computer til 5:00 and I can crash on my couch, having made it through another day, and I don't have anything left for being nice. Or, I'm actually irritable and impatient with the monster inside that's sucking the life out of me, but somehow it gets taken out on those around me. Or, my world has shrunk so small to how I'm feeling right now and how to take care of myself, that I can't help but be petty.

That I really do feel bad most of the time. When you have the flu, you can't remember what it feels like to have the strength and joy to run around and play outside. When you get better, you can't remember how you felt when you were sick. To understand me, consider that I have the flu all the time, and try to remember what it felt like. You could barely walk from your bed to the bathroom, and all you wanted was to get better (and your mommy).

That sometimes I want someone to ask how I'm feeling, and sometimes I want to be left alone. And I'm sorry if you tried doing one when I wanted the other.

That I hate it that I can't be myself. I'm just sick enough to have lost my vivacity, but not enough not to be painfully aware of its loss. I know you miss me, and I miss me too, which makes it even harder. It's like an out of body experience when I see a person on the sidelines, for example, and *I* know that I would reach out to that person and include him in the conversation but I simply don't have the strength to do it. It's a constant letting go. A constant prioritizing, where stretching my strength too far now will come back to haunt me later (and everyone else). A constant self-preservation. Constant sacrifice. Constant little deaths. How do I keep from becoming self-consumed?

That "showing up" is a victory for me, and sometimes it's all I can offer. The door to the office, the church, the friends' house is the finish line. On a tough day, anything extra is icing.

That I never know what to say to "how are you?" Do they really want to know how I feel right now? Do I really want to explain it? Will it just be a downer and make me feel worse for being negative? It'll probably be awkward in the end, and force me to put on a happy face to rescue the conversation anyway, so maybe it's easier for everyone if I just keep the happy face on from the start. After all, I am happy, I'm just not "fine."

That despair is always lurking. Around every failure of my body or mind. I'm getting used to depending on other people, something I've never been good at. But only to a point. I've always had little patience with my own limitations, which is what landed me with adrenal fatigue* in the first place. Whereas normal was running at 125 percent, the new normal is 75 percent on a very good day. I've always expected perfection of myself, with a few mistakes allowed here and there, the ones that I can rationalize. Now the quota of mistakes has been bumped much higher as I swallow reality, but it's still a quota and is closely tied to a humble heart which often isn't there. One more mistake, let alone one that affects hundreds of people (our church), and I'm a failure with no hope for recovery. I've let myself fall into that hole a few times, and believe me, it is bottomless. But thankfully, so is grace. And the instant that I fi-na-lly receive a free gift--lunch for my birthday, a bowl of popcorn from my roommate, a parking space from God--I melt. And I'm wisked back up into the sunlight with my feet on solid ground.

That I wish they would take care of themselves and not end up like me.

That I may look fine and healthy on the outside, but inside I feel hollow. Consider me the chocolate Easter bunny. I'm just that weak. There's nothing inside of me to draw from. Whatever makes human's "go" is not getting to the right places in my body. My batteries need to be changed. I'm pushing the gas pedal but there's nothing in the tank, regardless of what the meter says.

If none of this is resonating and you think I'm blowing everything out of proportion, just know that these are the tormentings of the sick. This is what is going on just below the surface, but there aren't words, there isn't time, there isn't energy. Somehow simply writing this and sending it into cyberspace makes me feel so much better. This is the real burden I carry, the festering germies.

If this is discouraging, I'm sorry. I'll write the benefits of illness in the next blog, don't worry. It just really helps me to get this off my chest, and I trust I speak for other fellow sickies in turmoil.

[*Severe fatigue, weakness, and low immunity that results from living on adrenaline for too long, to where the adrenal glands are depleted. The best book I've found on the subject is The Hidden Link Between Adrenaline and Stress by Dr. Archibald Hart. I'm happy to answer any questions you have about my symptoms or yours if you think you may have this illness as well.]

Dwarfed

2007-01-25T22:38:00.000-05:00

My life is a crazy work of art by God.

Why do you take that time with me?

Why do you care?

Why can't I lose my care for my life in Yours?

Three fingers pointing back at me

2007-01-08T10:57:00.000-05:00

We look with disdain on the Iraqis for sqandering their hard-bought freedom, and yet doesn't Jesus' church do the same? He came to set us free from the ruthless dictator of sin and death, although we didn't ask for it, but how often do we live under a dead dictator's thumb? Do we express daily gratitude for precious blood spilt? Do we receive what we've been given and use it responsibly? Do we grow to maturity and imitate our Savior, for our own best interest if nothing else? Do we blame Him for our sufferings, and make Him sorry for saving us, sorry that He ever got involved?

Allowing the helpless to help me

2007-01-04T23:05:00.000-05:00

I love living in the city for many reasons, and one of them is that you never know what you're going to see or whom you're going to run into on a given day. Which leads into my mini-adventure of the day, and how I met my angel in disguise.

I'm still very much learning to be more dependent on God and other people. I don't want to impose on others and think I should do everything myself, secretly believing I can. Perhaps that is the reason I lug a heavy box of paper seven blogs uphill once a week to Kinkos (our dear bulletins, Grace peeps), all by myself. Other reasons may include my desire to break the churchlady stereotype with my bulging biceps, my lack of planning, and the fact that Bed Bath & Beyond did not have the correct cart size for my needs (I'm not bitter).

So tonight at 5:00 I set out from the office with a heavier-than-usual box of bulletins and other printed items. I hadn't gone two blocks before even my "one step at a time" mantra failed me. I passed a homeless man who stuck his cup in my face, and I thought, "How insensitive. Doesn't he see the contrast here? I'm sacrificing my body for a nonprofit wage, and he's lying around asking for handouts." And then an idea was born: I should snag some dear homeless person (there are plenty around the office 'hood) to carry my box each week and pay them for it.

Just then, another homeless person, a woman this time, noticed me and was about to ask for spare change when she saw my pained expression and The Heavy Box. She wisked it out of my arms and offered to carry it for me...for a small fee of course was the unspoken understanding between us. I gladly relinquished it, praising God for His help and mind-reading skills.

I'm not sure which abused substance enabled her to carry that box like it was nothing and plow through the crowd so I could barely keep up, but I was not complaining, or preaching for that matter. "I'm gonna work for my money!" she gladly chortled. And I gladly agreed. "I don't do drugs, they kill ya. I just drink beer....I'm gonna carry this mother ___ up the street for you. I'm gonna work for my money." "Yes you are," I laughed. "You are my angel from God today." We made quite a scene in crowded pre-game Chinatown, her loudmouthing obseneties, me praising her strength and laughing at the whole situation.

She found out I worked for a church, and I tried to invite her since we practically passed right by the building we meet in. She can join Gloria, one of our few needy regulars, and maybe bring some friends. Pray for Vanessa...she'd make a fun Christian.

Interesting how when I acknowledge my helplessness and don't struggle against it but look to God to provide, He does, in surprising ways. When my all-sufficiency steps aside, His rushes in to fill the void. I think that's a good trade, don't you?

Where am I?

2007-01-01T17:03:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I think I was kidnapped at birth from another universe. Why else would I regularly ask myself questions like who am I? Where am I? How old am I again? What time of year is it? Why do people get so excited about things like football?

That or I've lived alone for too long.

"Rescue me"

2006-12-30T00:57:00.000-05:00

Today I was walking along the sidewalk from my apartment building to the Giant just a half block away (yes, be jealous...unless you don't live in DC and thus don't know what Giant is--it's a grocery store--or how hard it is to lug groceries down the street).

This guy was walking toward me and then turned toward the office building on my right, which seemed strange since the work day was over. When I looked at where he was going (confession: I was really watching him because he was cute), I saw an elderly lady sitting on the driveway, surrounded by grocery bags. He went over to help her up, which was nice (points for cute boy!), and then another man walked over to help as well. But what struck me (besides their kindness and chivalry) was that the sweet old lady was calling out "rescue me!" in a way that only old ladies and children can get away with. Or have the guts to say.

Rescue me. It was so honest and humble and endearing. It was also a demand, as if society owed her a lift. And in a way, we do. We should pick each other up when we fall down, especially if we want someone else to do the same for us someday.

I thought of how I feel "fallen" right now. Stuck. Helpless. Needy. I'm a little old lady in a skirt with my groceries strewn around me on the sidewalk. But usually I just sit there and feel sorry for myself and watch the world go by. Or gather up the milk and unbroken eggs I can reach and try hoisting myself up, only to fall back again and create more spillage and breakage. Or start whimpering and whining, or blaming myself for tripping over my own feet. If only I had worn different shoes, or seen that twig in the road, or hadn't bought so many groceries.

Why can't I simply look up and cry "rescue me!" And not timidly or ashamedly, but boldly. Belt it out, Janel, to a loving heavenly Father Who has bound Himself to you, Who has long ago promised to be there whenever you fall, Whose favorite pasttime is wandering along beside His kids and discovering life with them and picking them up when they go bum. Why would He do any less than a stranger on the street?

Lord, increase my faith. Rescue me.