Dear #WhatShouldWeCallMe, thank you for this clip. It is a perfect example of what led me to my utter humiliaton today.


Dear Newks worker, Thank you for attempting to be patient with me while I ran around like a chicken with my head cut off and made a complete fool of myself in your presence.


Dear Common Sense, WHERE ARE YOU? 

Dear Pimento Cheese Sandwich and Fire Roasted Tomato Soup, Thank you for, at least, being worth the humiliation I unfortunately embraced to purchase you.

Dear readers who are intrigued by my daily idiocies, So if you haven't figured it out already, I ate lunch(soup and sandwich) at Newks today where I completely embarrassed myself because my "favorite thing" was on the menu (hence the #whatshouldwecall me clip). I love Newks tomato soup, so much that, embarrassingly enough, last night at a friend's birthday extravaganza, I was asking people what Newks Soup schedule was. Yep, I am that awkward and food-oriented. So, when Amanda and I arrived there today and I saw that the tomato soup was indeed on the menu, I was elated. I was in a state of euphoria as I ordered and did not calculate in my head that I had spent money last night and did not have much left in my wallet. Therefore, when it got to the total of my order, $10.30, I opened my wallet to realize that I only had 9.00. I hissed at Amanda, who was in the line beside me, but she didn't hear me and began to walk towards a table. I counted my money again. Nine dollars. Once more for stubborn me- NINE dollars. Simultaneously, I bit my lip, wanted to melt into the tile floor, put the nine dollars back into my wallet, gave the Newks worker the biggest smile I could manage, asked her to cancel my order, told her I would be back momentarily, and dismissed myself from the line of onlookers. I chased Amanda down, borrowed her card (you're a gem, Roomie), and returned to my scaffold of humiliation. As I approached the same worker (don't you love irony?) for the second time, I tried to smile and reorder only for her to tell me I left my keys at the register. By this time she thought I was a descendant of Mr. Bean/The Three Stooges.  If you are wondering, I didn't let my pride stop me. I ordered that soup and sandwich and ate every last bite.

Happy Friday, friends!

Red-Onesie Moment



Is this not absolutely hilarious yet so unfortunately true?

So, if you have been around me long enough, you know that I have a slight tendency to worry/put on a dramatic performance about absolutely nothing. Unfortunately, this is a weakness of mine, but fortunately, I have wonderful friends and family who love me anyways and help bring "Anxiety Girl" back from her conclusion jumps. One recent "jump" has resided in the back of my mind for the past few weeks, and I feel like there's a lesson to be taken from it.

It all started Christmas Eve. Megan gave me a new WHITE (if you have a person in your life who is the slightest bit accident-prone, DON'T buy them anything white) Coach watch that I absolutely LOVE. I was so excited and naturally wore it the next day on Christmas. Well, Santa has a sense of humor, at least at the McKenzie house, and he brought Megan and I red monkey onesies (Yes, if you are trying to remember- Megan and I are almost 25 and 21). Like I said, sense of humor.

This is the EXACT onesie I have. (monkey feet and all)

So Christmas night, I wore the RED onesie with the WHITE watch and wasn't the yellow in the crayon box to say the least. When I went to take off the watch before I went to sleep, my perfectly white watch now had a pink stain (major monkey business on the onesie's part). Of course, this sent me into a full Oscar-nominated performance as I mourned for my watch and acted like Kim Kardashian when she lost her $75,000 earring after jumping off a pier in Bora Bora. Clearly, someone should have given Kimmy and I a brain for Christmas because you don't wear a new red outfit with a white watch, and you definitely don't prod your monster-sized husband to chunk you off a pier into an ocean wearing $75,000 earrings. Back to the story..

Naturally, the next day I am still trying to get my Oscar and began researching ways to remove dye stains from patent leather (friends, the findings for this research isn't that bright). So I tried a few cleaners, and if you can imagine domestically-challenged me trying to clean a watch, you have an Elmer Fudd imitation. Being Elmer, I was oblivious to the fact that I was driving everyone else crazy (clearly not getting the People's Choice Award) until my sweet boyfriend kindly yanked me from my dramatic, high-horse stage back to reality (the kid has a real talent for this) and reminded me that it was just a watch with one tiny stain on a band that could probably be replaced and nothing to fret about for half an afternoon. Switching roles, Elmer laid down his gun, and Bugs picked up a carrot and began to contemplate the situation.

As embarrassed as I am about my antics, I believe I received a good reminder that day. Life is not going to be a perfectly white piece of patent leather. It's full of stains and blunders that leave marks that can't be erased right away. Yet, it doesn't change who you are nor does it take away from your value. Although the dye left a stain on my watch, it didn't change the fact that it was still a functional watch and didn't take away its signifance as a gift. Also, as my family told me, the stain would eventually fade, but in the mean time, it was up to me how I would view it. Likewise, in life, we can't control the stains or their timing. However, we can change our perspective of the stains and know that they aren't permanent. They may affect us temporarily, but they will eventually fade into the past. We can choose to laugh at the stain and our dumb "red onesie moments," or we can let the meager stain permeate into our lives and rob us of much more than a piece of our band. For me, I'll write this off as a red-onesie moment.

Stormchasers

Once again, I have fallen off the radar for over a month after I pinky-promised not to, and once again, I have surrendered to my fickle ways and changed my blog name yet again. Yet, I think this one is here to stay. Because I honestly couldn't picture a better way to describe my life. Don't get me wrong- I am your typical imperfect human who makes countless mistakes on a daily basis. I am a college student who really has no clue what I am going to do with the so-called "real world" and future. I am your stereotypical girl who can be overdramatic, worry endlessly, and ride the roller coaster called Emotions. I have days where when it rains, it pours. HOWEVER, at the end of the day, when all of the chaos settles, I could not be more blessed. I have the most wonderful family in the world- still trying to figure out what I did to deserve them. I have the greatest friends I could ask for and who each make life all the more beautiful. Most importantly, I have a God who promises to hold my hand as I walk out onto the waves of life. At the end of the day, that is all that matters, and at the end of the day, I could not ask for more. THAT, my friends, is the abundant life, and oh, how sweet it really is.

So, now an update on my life would be good. School is kicking back in full swing, and over the past month, I have moved back to Oxford, traveled to Tuscaloosa, gave a speech, and helped with Alabama's recruitment, back to Oxford, transformed into a "big girl" with suit and all to attend my first "Meet the Firms," flown for the first time by myself, and biggest shock of all- actually woke up to eat breakfast one morning at the House.

Now back to the core of my post. This past weekend (Labor Day weekend) I flew out to Houston to see the boyfriend, and long story short, I had an absolutely wonderful weekend. Three highlights of the weekend 1) I found SMORES in a restaurant. S-M-O-R-E-S. (If you know me, you understand). 2). I struck a gold-mine of a negotiation with the boyfriend and told him that if he took me to a Forever 21 that I would watch the Arkansas football game that night (if that's not the real "Great Compromise," I'm not sure what is) and...

3).Let's just say I was one happy girl :)

Now after my continuous ramble, let's try once again to get to the point. So Saturday night, we were going to Vic and Anthony's in Houston, and when we pulled into the parking spot, it randomly starts raining. Being the girl, I wanted to wait it out, and being the boy, he just wanted to get out before it "got worse." So, in DRESS AND HEELS (new shoes at that), I start running in the rain towards this very nice restaurant. Right as I am passing the HUGE window display of the restaurant I am about to walk into, I trip and fall flat on my hands and knees, in a dress and heels, in the middle of the streets of Houston, in the middle of a rainstorm. Classic, right? Since this is my everyday life, I have learned to laugh, which is what I did on my hands and knees in the midst of a puddle in this street of Houston as a stranger offered me a helmet (no lie), Andrew grabbed my hand, pulled me to my feet, and we kept running yet again in the rain. To add to the comedy show, as we finally reach the restaurant door, it magically stops raining. Great, great timing. So needless to say with my wet-dog hairstyle and scraped knees and his shirt completely soaked to his body, we were a sight to see walking in for our reservation. (We literally laughed out loud about this at least five different times during the course of the dinner.)

So what's my point? My point is that in life, you need Stormchasers. You need people who are going to "run in the rain" with you and aren't detered by the thunder. You need people who are going to lift you to your feet during the storms of life and hold your hand through it all. You need people who are going to stay with you until the rain magically stops. You need to know that no storm is too large. Most importantly, you need to know that there is a Stormchaser who can calm every storm.
"And He awoke and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, "Peace! Be Still!" And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm." Mark 4:39.

What Goes Around Comes Around

"Remember this: Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows generously will also reap generously." 2 Corinthians 9:6

Does this sound like a saucy, spiteful blog title or what? Sorry to get anyone's dramatic hopes up, but I am not trying to be sassy and as Destiny's Child once said "bust ya out on the Internet" because as they also said "my mama (DEFINITELY) taught me better than that." Back to the point- I came across this verse earlier, and I couldn't help but remember an entertaining scenario from a few weeks ago.

A friend and I were just cruising through the Sonic drive-in as I was searching for an open parking spot when out of nowhere the Sonic worker just strolls out into the road. I stopped and waited for him to cross, but he still gave me one of the most venomous looks known to mankind. I was shocked and repulsed. I had politely stopped to let this chap pass, and he not only hesitates in the middle of the road but shoots me a death glare. WELL, if you know me and my quick-to-be-overdramatic-and-throw-a-fit self sometimes, my first instinct was to run the little punk over (ok, so not that crazy) but at least roll down my window and say whatever derogatory statement I found suitable or give him a raunchy look in return. Yet, I gained composure and casually pulled into my parking spot instead. Now to the "what goes around comes around" concept.

Would you like to know who had to come and personally deliver my food to me AFTER he had given me a death glare? OH YES, Mr. Punk himself. As I saw him coming in my rearview mirror, I pondered how I would react to this delivery and the rude boy himself. Yet, after I pushed aside the evil schemes I had rolling around in my head, I- for the first and most likely only time in my life- had a Frieda McKenzie moment and decided to take the "Kill them with Kindness" route. The boy reached my window, and you could tell he was embarrassed that he had just sent me to Purgatory and back with his eyes a few moments before. However, as he handed me my food, I smiled and gave him an extra large tip and wished him a good day. As he walked away looking a tad surprised, I couldn't help but smile. For nothing quite makes the medicine go down like a spoonful of sugar (Mary Poppins reference fully intended), and his medicine was hard to swallow.

Now, you may ask where the "what goes around comes around" concept comes into play because he was rude and still got a tip (miraculous, huh?). Well you see, he was rude then wound up having to come and deliver me my food- which is punishment in itself. He had to come face to face with someone he had mistreated and wait for the verdict. On the other hand, if I had acted out when he first gave me a rude glance, I would have had to feel ashamed when he came to my car window a few minutes later. Therefore be careful of how you treat people in life because what goes around comes around, and people that you encounter at one point in your life may come back around at some point (even less than three minutes later in a food line) when you're the server. Yet, I think that to truly "reap generously" as the verse says, we have to "sow generously" for not only ourselves but for others and others who do not "sow generously" for us in return. We cannot truly harvest life and life in its abundance until we love others fully and forgive those who do not sow for us. Luckily, the "what goes around comes around" concept is not in God's book. He sows generously for us daily when our most generous harvest could never compare to His glory. We received his graceful reap when we had done nothing to deserve it. Therefore, pass on your generous sows even when others don't deserve it.

Because do you want to know who really received the generous reap that day? It wasn't the worker with a few more cents in his pocket. It was me who had the bountiful harvest as I set aside my vengeful plow and purgatory glances and simply forgave.

The Road that Led Home

(I just found this in my drafts. I meant to post this months ago, but I guess it never quite made it. So here's an easy blog to compose today :)

"The friends who grew up with you deserve a special respect. The ones who stuck by you, shoulder to shoulder, when nothing was certain, all of life lay ahead, and every road led home."- The Wonder Years

I absolutely love The Wonder Years- always have- and I especially love its quotes. (I even secretly put one into my high school annual my Senior year- oh, the perks of being an editor). Obviously, I love this quote above then, but it also goes along with some wise words I heard this past year during a weekend at home. My Uncle Rick was talking about friends, and he said that in life, you were lucky if you had two true friends. In the back of my mind, I smiled because this was the exact number that had been beside me throughout my childhood. Throughout elementary school, middle school, and especially high school, two friends were there for absolutely everything. We stood "shoulder to shoulder" in the midst of bad hair days, embarrassing days where one of us spit a carrot across a table and nailed the current boyfriend straight in the face or another hit a parked school van during the middle of the first soccer game, days of celebration when one of became Prom Queen and when another was becoming the next Sharapova, days of trials when we experienced death and loss and failure, days where boys broke our hearts and proved they had no heart themselves in the process, days where the sun couldn't shine brighter and days of learning to dance in the rain- basically days where nothing was certain, all of life lay ahead of us, and days when these girls WERE the road that led home. So without further ado, please let me introduce to you Dos and Tres (we will get to that later).

DOS. She is absolutely going to kill me when she sees this picture, but I can't help it. It sums up why I love her so much and what role she played in our friendship. If you can't tell, she is dressed as a tiger (isn't she adorable?), and this is what Maidee Parker has been for me throughout growing up. If you read my blog back in October, you read where I said Maidee Parker puts you in her box and fights for you when you can't fight for yourself. Likewise, Maidee Parker is a tiger for me in the sense that she is fierce in her life, and this strength permeates into the lives of those she surrounds. Maidee Parker has literally been that friend who has been around since Kindergarten, and she has always been a fighter. From pulling me up a THOUSAND times on a mountain in Lake Tahoe, Nevada, forcing me to not give up and learn how to snowboard as a thirteen year-old to literally sitting in the emergency room stretcher with me as a nineteen-year-old with TWO concussions, Maidee Parker has always been the magnet that held everything together. She was the tiger who wouldn't let you roam the "jungles" of life alone, and she made you strong in your moments of weakness. Looking back at all of the hard times in life, Maidee Parker was always there with an outstretched hand and a hand that taught you how to fight.As I also mentioned in the "Some Things Never Change" post, Maidee Parker has always been the one in the middle of Allison and me, shaking her head at all of the idiotic blunders that Al and I found our way into, not knowing if she should check on the clutz who fell flat on her face first or the one whose rolling in a bush screaming from laughing. I think Maidee's role can be perfectly portrayed through one of our favorite pasttimes- tubing- and as Allison and I would be flailing around about to fly off into the murky Reservoir waters, Maidee Parker would be in the center holding one of us down and reaching for the other idiot who was about to drown. On a serious note, Maidee Parker has been and will always be the tiger in my life. She has helped me find strength in times I couldn't imagine to find it and has helped me face life with a fierce passion. She's my fighter, and I am so blessed to have her in my "boxing ring" of life.

TRES. It is said that pictures say 1,000 words. This picture has one- ALLISON. If Maidee Parker helped me face the world and its obstacles with a fierce passion, Allison helped me laugh in the midst of its craziness. I can just look at the picture and hear her either laughing, screaming, singing (probably the infamous Boom Diggy at that), or a mixture of all three. If you have ever heard Allison's laugh, you know what I mean when I say that it is one of her hallmarks and that it could light the darkest room. No matter what kind of day I was having, if Allison started laughing, a smile instantaneously spread across my face. There are not many funny stories that line Memory Lane that do not incorporate Al in some way. In fact, the craziest stories ALL pretty much centralize around her. From dancing to "Pop, Lock, and Drop It" in broad daylight on the beach in front of a rather large condominium to endless calls from Meredith Minschew and L.A. Nails, Allison has always been the "noise/music" in my life. Whether it was her Spanish rendition of the Star Spangled Banner to her beloved Christmas music, Allison is always singing her own little tune. Furthermore, wherever she goes, Allison is definitely heard :), and there's something special about her that makes her song unforgettable. Allison does NOT meet strangers, and if she does, five minutes later they're automatically a "new best friend." Yet again, she spreads her "joyful noise," as she once called it, to someone else. Allison's "joyful noise" is contagious in that she brightens your day and encourages you to brighten others. Her "tune" is one that inspires and one that draws people to it. She has helped me laugh when I thought that was the last thing possible, and she has challenged me multiple times by the "tune" of her life. Although I am no longer able to hear that laugh on a daily basis, when I do, it still brings an automatic smile to my face, and I know that those who get to hear it are blessed by it.

I don't even remember how old we were when we came up with Uno, Dos, and Tres, and I am sure it was a moment of pure idiocy that we had and one of the multiple names we chose to call each other in high school. Yet, it was more than a ridiculous name. It was more than a pose that we did for every picture in high school. It was more than three best friends. It was growing together when "nothing was certain." It was "sticking together shoulder by shoulder." It was facing "all of life that lay ahead." It was "the road that lead home."

I love yall.

Letting Go of the Boat and Stepping out on the Waves

So I try to include a Lucy moment in each blog, but I easily think this ranks in top 10 at least. I am actually a little mortified that I am seriously including this in the post, BUT I had no choice. I was basically told I had to share this blog with you (I will get to that later). So yes, unfortunately, that is me in this picture. I am sure if my friends are reading this, especially friends that have never seen this picture, you're laughing at me right now. Jerks. So this was my Sophomore year of high school, and our Homecoming theme that year was movies. My class had Pirates of the Carribean, so obviously our float was a pirate ship- and an amazing, float-winning pirate ship at that. So, one night when we are building the float, someone said we needed someone to be the statue on the front of the ship- like how old pirate ships/ships in general had things carved into the front of the boat. Well, everyone's eyes turned and looked straight at me; I guess they knew I was the retard who would go along with this idiocy. A few days later, my entire body is painted gold, my hair in balls on the side of my head, and I held that pose for a good thirty minutes throughout an entire parade where the entire town could see me. Pretty tragic, I know.

So you might be wondering where in the world I am going with this day of humiliation? Well, let's fast-forward four years. Once again, I am a Sophomore, and once again, I am the statue on the front of the boat (but thankfully only on a figurative level this time.) You see, I am the statue on the front of the boat again because for a while now I have been trying to navigate the ship of my own life. I have been trying to handle every situation on my own, and I have been trying to find all the answers and fight all the battles how I thought I should. Don't get me wrong, I had good intentions and did not waver in my faith, but I was not fully letting go of the wheel. I was scared of the uncertainty of the waves and how the waves might change the direction of my ship. Where did this leave me? It left me not behind the captain's seat but clinging to the front of the ship with all that I had. I was so close to the waves but did not want to let go. I tried to embed myself into the ship and be that statue.

Yet, God does not let you stay in the comfort zone and safehaven of the ship all the time. There are times when He calls out to you from the waves and all of their uncertainties, and He is asking you to trust Him despite the uncertainty. The past few weeks, my ship has not gone in the direction I wanted it to go in, and it was not until this past week that I finally heard a voice calling out from the waves to my heart. It was a voice that was saying, "Are you done yet? I have been here watching you try to navigate alone this whole time, and although the gold paint and ridiculous hair looked awesome a few years ago, why don't you come off the boat for a little while? Join me out here on the water." For the longest time I have said "Nope I am good. I have got everything under control here. I like where my boat is going, and I know this is what I need to be doing. Look at those waves anyways. They're huge. No way I am coming out there. Not happening." Yet. this past week, I finally let go of the front of the boat. I finally let go of my pride. I finally let go of my thinking that I was the perfect navigator. I finally started to say, "Ok, I am surrounded by the uncertainty of these waves, and even though I have no idea what you have in store for me, I am still going to let go of the boat and step out on the waves."

Can I tell you that I had an instant feeling of peace like I had never experienced before- or at least in a while, and that was with only one "boat" in my life! Although I have no idea what direction the waves will take me, I know that there's a God who teaches me how to walk on top of the waves and who leads the way. He provides peace in the midst of uncertainty and promises hope despite the uncertainty.

Now, you might be wondering why I said earlier that I was basically told to use such an embarrassing picture in my post or why in the world I am comparing myself to a statue on the front of a boat and so excited about stepping out into the "waves" of life? I had thought of writing this post a few days ago when I was so excited about my new peace. Yet, over the past few days, the peace had begun to wear away and the uncertainty began to set it, and I was not as enthusiastic. However, today I was listening to the radio in my car, and I switched the station to K-love. I did not know the song that was playing, so I went to change it to another station when a voice in my head told me to wait. So I let the song play through, and then the next song started. Do you want to know what the FIRST lines of that song were?

"Oh what I would do to have the kind of faith it takes to climb out of this boat I'm in onto the crashing waves.To step out of my comfort zone, to the realm of the unknown where Jesus is, and He's holding out His hand."

My heart froze. I had thought of this post a few days before, and now I was pretty much receiving the confirmation that I had to share this. More than that, I was receiving the confirmation that God knew I was scared of the "realm of the unknown." He knew that I had been seeing it as "letting go of the front of my boat." He knew that I was still nervous as I tried to learn how to "walk on the waves." Yet, he sent me a message today saying that peace was real. He sent me a message saying that He had a plan for the realm of the unknown. He sent me a message saying that He was holding out his hand. He sent me a message saying you let go. Now just step out. So that is exactly what I am doing.

Saved by the Anne Frank of Oysters

Freshman year of college. I looked to my right. There was a girl in a sorority that I really liked and would be visiting during Rush just a few weeks later. I gulped, and ten thousand butterflies came rushing into my stomach. I looked to the left, and there was a girl who looked like Eva Mendes. The butterflies began to wave their white flags and play Taps inside Shelby's stomach. I was a goner. Just write "L-o-s-e-r" across my forehead because this was about to be a crash and burn display. I looked back in front of me at the man who was interviewing the three of us and anxiously awaited his question. It, of course, was the infamous, "If you could have dinner/ a conversation with any person in history, who would it be and why?" He excluded Jesus, who was my instant first answer, so now I was stumped. Unfortunately for me, we did not have ample time to discover the perfect answer. We simply went one after another down the line. If I could not mention Jesus, a president was the next answer that popped into my head. Well, obviously it popped into Eva Mendes's mind too because what did she say? Thomas Jefferson. I didn't hear her reasoning because I went into panic mode- mad at the girl for taking my answer and thinking Eva just needed to go back to Hollywood and wondering what in the WORLD I was going to say. She ended her probably perfect answer, and then all eyes went on me.
I took a deep breath, and then something along the lines of this came out at a nervous-Speedy Gonzales rate. "I would talk to Anne Frank. She was only a teenager, yet she had such a tremendous impact on the world. Even when she was facing a concentration camp and being persecuted, she said that, "Despite everything, I believe people are good at heart." I would like to talk to someone who was capable of having a perspective like that even in the midst of struggles."
When I finished, I think I looked to the ceiling in awe at the great, great beams of celestial light and wisdom beaming down on me and mouthed the words, "Thank you." On a serious note, I honestly don't have any idea where that answer came from, but I was definitely Saved by the Anne Frank.
I think that in life sometimes I took the Anne Frank concept a little too much to heart. I mean a teacher told me once that she knew I was going to be just like her. I was puzzled by her statement and asked what she meant. She proceeded to tell me that on her wedding day, right before she walked down the aisle, her mother told her that they did not have to go through with the service. They could cancel it all right now. She did not have to do this. Apparently, she was marrying a man with a "bad boy edge," and my teacher thought I was going to wind up in her shoes. Comforting, huh? I suppose in high school, I was drawn to the boys that had a little rougher edge. I will justify myself by saying that Nicholas Sparks and A Walk to Remember warped my mind, and I expected my own "Shane West" to leave his wild days behind and build me a telescope. Once again, this is a joke.
Although I would hate to be the bride who is marrying someone that my own mother is concerned about, I feel as if we have to take Anne's advice and apply it to our lives. We have to set everything else aside and look at the heart. More importantly, we have to believe that there is good in everyone and that no one is hopeless.
After all, a pearl does lie beneath the ugly, ordinary, and at-first-glance useless oyster shells.
In life, we are surrounded by oysters. Heck, you and I both are oysters in a sense. We all can be ugly and hurtful at times. We can all feel useless and be treated like we are by others. We can be written off as ordinary. We sometimes forget that we have the potential to bear something beautiful- to bear a pearl. So to all of you reading this, if you are feeling more on the oyster side and feeling ordinary, know that you are EXTRAORDINARY and have the potential to foster a priceless pearl. Likewise, we must take this approach as we observe others. I can only imagine what our world would be like if everyone had Anne Frank's perspective and if we looked past the oyster and saw the pearl. Wouldn't it be magical? We have to set aside stereotypes. We have to set aside barriers. We have to set aside comfort zones and judgment. We have to set aside the oyster shells.
So the next time you go to judge someone or write them off as an oyster, think again. Who knows, there could be a pearl lingering beneath their surface. Even better, it could be a pearl that was only meant for you to find. The next time you begin to see the oyster, I hope you are Saved by the Anne Frank of Oysters. After all, He saw past the depths of your oyster shells and saw the pearl. He offered you a saving grace. Extend it to others.
-S

Some Things Never Change

You know how people say there should be a theme song for their lives? Well, if there was a concept of a "theme picture" for my life, this would COMPLETELY encompass at least four days of my week. Actually, this picture is my future goal because this man fell correctly (if that's possible, maybe he's a professional goob too and knows how to minimize the pain) and did not nail his head like I have done THREE times now. Yep, you heard me. I just drew one more point on the scoreboard of Shelby's head-games with the floor. If you're keeping score at home it's Shelby's head- 0. Tile floors, brick floors, and bathroom sinks and possible towel rack- 3.
Before we get to the THIRD attack on Shelby's skull, let's get to the serious part. I should at least postpone you laughing at me as long as possible, right? Good, I thought so too. So last Tuesday, I was sitting in class when I got a text from my mom. It told me to call her as soon as I got out of class. Automatically, my stomach went into turmoil mode because my mother never has to tell me to call. I call her at least a THOUSAND times a day to discuss pathetically simple things that I should be beyond capable of handlling at twenty. The ladies at her work laugh at the amount of times that I call- it really is absurd. Back to the point, I was a nervous wreck. When I got out of class and called and asked my mother what was going on, she just casually says that her and my dad were at the hospital since three that morning. I know she said it this way to comfort me, but my goodness mother you weren't taking a stroll through the park to "One Fine Day!" (I am much more dramatic than my mother). She proceeded to tell me that they were at the hospital because my dad had woken up in the middle of the night with chest pains. They were running tests to make sure it wasn't his heart. She kept going, but I was already in another world of whirlwind.
I was in disbellief, and to be flat-out honest,I was a little angry. I thought to myself, "God, have you not seen my past month? Did you forget that I have already had my fair share of rain lately? Sure, I made it through the two concussions, the end of a two-year relationship, and then losing Mr. Miller, but THIS IS MY DAD. I can't handle this one. I made it through the others, don't let this happew now too. It is not fair." I was being selfish, and I was Peter who was hesitant and scared of sinking through the waters instead of listening to the One who was and is trying to teach me how to walk.
Thankfully, my dad's problem was not his heart, and my selfish desires were answered. Yet, God still had a lesson for me the next day. Wednesday, I was so excited because Allison, one of my best friends from high school, and Lindsey were staying with me. This sent me on a mission to find an air mattress that I could sleep on, so I took it upon myself to skip/run down the halls as I was searching. Well, unfortunately for me, my sweet neighbors didn't alert clumsy me that they had sprayed Raid in their doorway. Raid on a floor+Shelby running= a reaction that I am sure you can easily predict. Yes, as I ran into their room, I slipped on the Raid, and I successfully hit my head on the tile floors of Crosby.As I laid in the middle of my friends' door, I quickly pictured the male nurse with his female-function questions, and I quickly stood up and told everyone I was fine. No hospitals for me. But where was my sweet best friend?
I could hear her snorting and laughing from my room. If you know Allison, you appreciate this situation tenfolds more because when Allison laughs she has, well she has some issues. Yep, as my newer friends asked if I was ok, my old friend was sprawled out on my dorm-room floor( hadn't even moved to see if I was alive) rolling in laughter. Maidee Parker, my other friend, was standing in the hall between the two of us, shaking her head, not able to choose which one of us was more idiotic as she always had in high school with every other embarrassing situation we put her through. Although I had just humiliated myself for the 394985985 time in my life, I couldn't help but smile because some things never change. No matter how old we got, no matter how many miles we were apart, no matter what university we went to, no matter WHAT, I was still the clumsy girl that fell while Allison was the one who laughed hysterically and had her issues while Maidee Parker would run and hide or stand in the middle of us and do nothing but shake her head. In the midst of our crazy lives, we were still the same. Nothing had changed.
I believe that if I had listened a little closer to my other Friend the day before, He would have told me the same thing. He would have said, "Hey, I know it's been crazy the past month. I know you think I haven't been listening or haven't noticed. I know you're scared. I know you're tired, but why are you questioning me? I haven't gone anywhere. You're still the one who has to learn, and I am still the one who has to teach. You're still the one who doubts and fears the waves, and I am still the one reaching out my hand. You're still the clay, and I am still molding. You're still the one who sometimes gets off track, and I am still the one who will be here waiting every time. I will never forsake you or leave you. I love you."
Basically, He was saying, "Some Things Never Change."
Although it is comforting to know that my friends and I are still the same retarded people and nothing has changed, at the end of the day, it's a thousand times better to know that there is a God who loves you beyond reason, will never leave you, and will never quit reaching out His hand to you in the midst of storms. So as you go throughout your week and approach Thanksgiving, be thankful that "some things never change."

Undone Puzzles and Stop Signs

Lucy moment for you before I begin my serious train. Yet, this Lucy moment has no relation to the rest of the post, but it's oh so good not to share. For those of you who don't know, I work at my school's radio (I tried out on a complete whim this semester and to my complete shock I made it). Whoever thought giving Shelby two hours a week on a live radio station to say whatever I wanted without supervision was not the wisest person on the block :). Obviously, I have entirely too much fun with it. So tonight, I was working and was reading that it was Matthew McConaughey's (one of God's most beautiful gifts to Earth) birthday, and I was going to share this with my listeners. It was talking about Matthew McConaughey's accomplishments along with his 1993 arrest for "playing the bongos nude and in the possession of cannabis." My first thought was "How stupid are the people who write these news clips? They obviously meant to say cannibals." Of course this made sense to me- bongos, nude people, and cannibals. It sounded like he was in an exotic rain forest country or something. So I confidently got on air and told a 40-mile radius that Matthew McConaughey was arrested for nudity while playing the bongos and in the possession of cannibals. Cannibals. I was proud of my interesting news clip and turned around to see my boss and another grad student (both are boys) staring at me with mischievous yet confused looks on their faces. I asked what was wrong, and they, in return, asked if the sheet said cannabis? I said yes but that clearly was a mistake and meant to say cannibals. They then proceeded to tell me that cannabis was another word for weed. So instead of having weed, I told the radio world that Matthew was with cannibals. Aren't I just the yellow in the crayon box? I fully blame my mother and my school district for not properly educating me on drugs. I mean Shelby does mean "sheltered village" for a reason. (No lie- that's the meaning of my name). I feel like a lot of you are probably laughing right now- and at my expense- I guess I can swallow that horsepill.

So, that Lucy moment took a lot more space than I thought so my serious train might just have to be a caboose instead of the Polar Express (Christmas reference woo hoo!). Back to the picture. I feel like this has been my life lately. I am constantly on the go, constantly trying to run my own life, constantly asking questions like WHY and HOW, constantly trying to stop things from happening, constantly analyzing every teensy-weensy situation, constantly praying for change and for things to go my way, CONSTANTLY TRYING TO PUT THE PUZZLE TOGETHER WHEN ALL I CAN SEE IS ONE PIECE. And God throughout all of it, is screaming

STOP! The light is RED. You have to STOP.

Stop trying to run your own life because I am waiting to guide you. Stop asking questions because I am going to explain it all one day. Stop trying to prevent things from happening because I have a plan and a good plan at that. Definitely stop analyzing because you will never figure it all out. STOP TRYING TO PUT THE PUZZLE TOGETHER WHEN ALL YOU CAN SEE IS ONE PIECE BECAUSE I AM THE ONE WHO LAID IT ALL OUT AND CAN SEE THE ENTIRE THING. I know you don't understand your current piece, but the whole picture would not be complete without it. I gave you all the right pieces. I don't make mistakes.

This is my life right now. Do I have it all together? Heck no. Have I been pedal-to-the-metal trying to run my own life. Sure have. Yet, lately, I have witnessed the extremely challenging yet ultimately beautiful message of God saying,

"Be still, and know that I am God." -Psalms 46:10

So, as hard as it might be, I am leaving the puzzle undone, and I am learning how to stop.

"Letter to Me"

So when you read the title, did you start singing Brad Paisley's "Letter to Me" in your head? If so, then you and I are on the same page- congratulations- kidding, but seriously this is my very random inspiration for a blog post. We all have received letters from others and have all written letters to others, but have we written letters to ourselves? If I could send a letter back in time to my six-year-old self, what would I say? What would I want to know before I started the adventure called life? I could ponder on this for days and rewrite the letter a thousand times, but I think this is the nutshell version of what I would say:
To the world's clumsiest girl,
Get ready to fall. Get ready to fall A LOT actually. Don't worry, I am not referring to just embarrassing falls though- although those are endless- be prepared to fall into the most amazing family you could imagine. Get ready to fall into friends that paint your childhood with the most priceless memories. Get ready to fall into a world that you don't understand and that challenges you on a daily basis. Now, I know you're only six, and you still haven't mastered tying your shoes- don't worry that day FINALLY comes- but listen up there's a lot to remember. On your first day of first grade, don't tell your really sweet teacher that you would have rather had Mrs. Beeman for a teacher because you don't know it yet, but this teacher will introduce you to writing and will encourage you to continously do it which you will still love fifteen years later. When you're in third grade and you really like the boy on the playground, don't tell him "you play ball like a girl." He won't really like that too much. In sixth grade, just don't get up to do the mock cheerleading try-out. Your round-off is just not ready for its debut quite yet, and your face becomes acquainted with the gym mat fairly well. When you're thirteen and you think that boy placed the stars in the sky, I promise he didn't and avoid him. It will save you from crashing into a locker door, falling on the floor of your school hall, and papers flying everywhere as your whole school watches. When you're in the 8th grade, don't try to be a germ-freak and kick the toilet flusher with your shoe. You don't need to helplessly watch your shoe swirl around a school toilet and then limp back to the class barefoot and have to explain to your teacher why you are barefoot which she broadcasts to the classroom. When you're fourteen, don't pick up that McDonald's cup. It's not that boy's coke. It's actually a spit-cup, and you feel sick to your stomach for days. When you get your permit, make sure you drive all the way past the median. You don't want to watch your mother scream and see headlights coming straight at you as you pull into oncoming traffic. Miraculously, your parents still let you get your license, but at that first soccer game your Sophomore year, turn your music down. You really won't like the huge dent you dig into your sweet car as you side-swipe a school work-van and not realize it until you see the van wiggle in your rear-view mirror. Don't get hot chocolate at high school soccer games because at one, a friend knocks it out of your hand as you watch it land perfectly on your other friend's scalp. Your junior year, don't complain about going to the concession stands for your friends multiple times in one game. You meet one of the best friends you'll ever have because of this. At your high school graduation, make sure your heels aren't too big because it will fall off as you're leading your class out of the auditorium and roll down the stairs behind you as the entire room burst into laughter as you walk out with one shoe in one hand and diploma in the other. Your freshman year of college, tape your key to your forehead- you'll lose it a million times. Also, hold onto your Mardi Gras date party date a little tighter when he's spinning you around, or you'll find yourself falling flat on your butt on a bar floor in front of everyone. Your Sophomore year, just don't go to your sorority house the night they have Spaghetti at the beginning of October and definitely say heck no to roller skates. You really don't want to talk to a male nurse about female functions do you? Didn't think so. Ok, so I think you're set. The rest I will have to write later, but brace yourself. It's a big world. Get ready to fall into it all.
Wouldn't it be nice if you could send a letter like that to yourself? Prepare yourself for the bumps, the detours, the rainy days, the heartbreaks, the disappoinments, the embarrassment. Make sure you didn't miss the best opportunities of your life, the dances, the smiles, the laughter, the priceless memories. We all know we don't get these letters, but if we could, would we? Yet, if I held this letter in my hands, I think I would crumple it all up. For what would life be if it wasn't for the bumps, the detours, the rainy days, the heartbreaks, the disappoinments, the embarrassment to balance the dances, the smiles, the surprises, the laughter, the priceless memories. Each day of my life has molded me into the person I am today. I wouldn't trade it for anything. So, that's all I would say in my letter.
To the clumsiest girl in the world,
Get ready to fall. You live by standing up after the falls. You live by who catches your falls. You live by perspective when you hit the ground. Yes, get ready, because life is falling.
Sincerely,
Shelby

Will You Dance with Me?

Boys lined one side of the gym. Girls lined the other side. The Great Wall of China, the Nile River, and the Grand Canyon separated us from one another. We didn't dream of trying to mingle. Oh yes, I am referring to a sixth-grade dance. I was talking to my friends, giggling, in my complete and utter comfort zone when I heard girls whisper and start pointing. Apparently, a boy was bravely making his way across the Great Wall of China, the Nile River, and the Grand Canyon to the girls' side of the room as everyone else watched in horror. I turned around just in time to see that, oh yes, the only boy who is making his way to the girls' side of the room WOULD BE MY DATE. My twelve-year-old heart began to beat wildly as I wished with every inch of my body that I had Harry Potter's invisibility cloak. WHY was he coming over here? Everyone was watching, and of course, he was heading straight towards me. Don't get me wrong, I loved my date. He was a great friend and usually highly intelligent (I suppose he had a brainfart when he decided to walk across the room), but I certainly did not want to be the only boy and girl talking. When he reached me, I am sure my face was the brightest shade of red on the color wheel, and with absolute horror, he said the words "Do you want to dance?"

"DO I WANT TO DANCE?" Was that even a logical question? I was only twelve years old. The only thing I had ever danced around with before was the vaccuum, a broom, or my friends when we made our 1000th Nsync or Backstreet Boys dance routine. Did I want to dance? SURE, let's dance in the middle of the Great Wall of China, the Nile River, and the Grand Canyon while NO ONE else is dancing and EVERYONE is watching. Grrreeaatt idea. That'swhat I should have said. Yet, I couldn't say no after he had voyaged this great, long distance to come ask me, so with the world's population of butterflies residing in my stomach, I weakly said "sure." Yep, that's right folks. SHELBY MCKENZIE, the girl who would two years later fall on the floor at the middle of an eighth grade dance (these were much more lively than 6th grade) trying to bust a move, the girl who tried to do a hitch-kick for a cheerleading dance and literally landed flat on her back trying, and the COLLEGE FRESHMAN whose date party date spun her so fast she fell flat on her bottom on a BAR FLOOR, was the FIRST person to break the ice and dance at the FIRST DANCE. You should be real impressed if you haven't caught on yet.

So, as everyone else watched, my date and I made our way to the center of the room. When we got there, I thought the terror was over. I looked up at my date (he was much taller than me unlike the rest of the boys in sixth grade who were shorter than their dates) to see how he intended to start this ceremonial dance, and then these words came,

"Shelby, I DO NOT KNOW how to dance."

YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW TO DANCE? I was enraged. This was an almost as tragic as Nsync splitting up- I wish I could disappear straight through this floor right now-why in the WORLD would you ask me to dance with you and be the only person out here if you have no idea how to dance- ASHTON KUTCHER WHERE ARE YOU, I WILL GLADLY SAY I AM BEING PUNK'D-situation. Once again, these were the thoughts I had running through my head, but once again, I couldn't have this breakdown in front of the entire sixth grade. So I took a deep breath and said, "just put your hands here, and slowly move back and forth." So right there, in the center of the room, my date and I started the first dance, and of course, we were at complete arm's length apart and quite possibly could have just been touching each other with our fingertips. Thankfully, some of my date's friends follwed suit soon after we began, and others started dancing, and at the end of the night, I do believe it was a success. If you are laughing right now, you are welcome for the Lucy moment. I'd love to share my painfully humiliating experiences with you again just to make your day a little brighter.

So, what's my lesson from this day of the life of Lucy? Although most of you think you have never and will never experience the situation I just described, I promise you at some point in your life you will. No, you won't be twelve-years-old, and a boy won't be gliding across the room to ask you to dance. However, when you're in the middle of your comfort zone, God is going to come gliding across the room, and He is going to ask you to dance. You, like me, are going to panic and wonder if he's really serious. You can't be the first one to step away from the comfort zone. You're only "twelve-years-old." (Fill in with your own personal justification) You're not capable of doing what He's asking. What will everyone else think and say? Please just ask someone else. But, He IS going to ask you, and most likely, if you say no, He's going to ask again. Who knows, maybe He's asking you because he knows others are watching, and He knows people will start dancing if you do. He also may be asking you to dance so you can teach other people how to dance. The point is, you have to be willing to step out of your comfort zone and go to the center of the room with God when He asks you to dance.

Secondly, just as my date made his way across the Great Wall of China, the Nile River, and the Grand Canyon to ask me to dance, God voyages across even longer distances to reach you. The segregation of the room did not stop my date from coming to ask me to dance. Likewise, no separation is going to stop God from seeking you. I don't think that registers with us sometimes. God, the creator of Heaven and Earth, is WILLING and DESIRES to voyage past the Great Walls of your heart, of your sins, of your doubts, of your fears, of your resistance to be with you. He voyages past the separation as long as the Nile. He bridges the Grand Canyon through the cross and comes just to meet with you. If you don't feel humbled and honored and completely in awe of that thought, then I don't know what else to say to you. I know I take that for granted all of the time, but when you think about it, it's life-changing (literally).

So, as you go throughout life living in your cozy little comfort zone, be ready for when God comes asking you to dance. I hope you don't miss out because it just might be the best experience of your life. And more importantly than that, live in the peace and love that comes from a God who will travel any distance just to be with you. Just to dance with you.

Pearl Bump Fever

When I was in high school, we were rather limited to what we could do for entertainment on the weekends. Yes, there was high school football games, the movie theater, and the INFAMOUS McAlister's parking lot (yikes), but what did you do during the winter or on a less eventful weekend? Well you see, my friends and I were fairly easily amused in high school, and we discovered THE Pearl Bump as we lovingly labeled it. Yes, right before you left Pearl High School to turn back onto Highway 80 there was a HUGE (or at least we thought it was) bump, and when we were bored on the weekends, we would all pile into someone's car and go zooming over the bump. (See my picture above :) ). It was even more fun to take someone who had never been and watch their confused expression and alarm when we all began to reach for handle bars or prepare for the launch and to watch as they would helpless fly a few inches into the air and slam back down into their seat. For all you parents who might be reading this, no one was harmed in the process- I promise. Now obviously, we did not get as much air as the lovely DOH car above, but if you loved the Pearl Bump as much as we did, it felt like you were flying every single time.

Here's my Lucy moment for you: Now as you can probably tell, I was extremely fond and proud of my Pearl Bump. So were all of my other retarded friends. Yet, I think you had to be in close connection with the bump to fully appreciate its value. So one night in high school, I was hanging out with a boy that I had a crush on at the time, and I felt the absolute need to show him the Pearl Bump. I ranted and raved about how WONDERFUL and hilarious it was and how I could NOT wait to see his face. I mean you would have thought I was taking the boy to see the Superbowl or the World Series I was so stinking excited, and clearly, I built his expectations up a little too high. As I raced towards the intersection with a huge smile on my face, I am sure the boy thought I had absolutely lost my mind considering the light was most likely turning yellow or red but that NEVER stopped you at the Pearl Bump. Then, we RAMPED (more like eased) over the bump, I screeched with excitement, and he looked at me like Elmer Fudd would look at a two-headed Bugs Bunny.

"That was it?" "That was the thing you have been so excited about this whole time?"

Yeah, he didn't like the bump too much. I was, of course, devastated. How could you not like THE Pearl Bump? I was in shock. All I wanted was for others to see my excitement and share the same excitement as well.

In life, I feel like we have a lot of Pearl Bumps. We have things that we are so passionate about and so excited about, and all we want is for people to share the excitement of the Pearl Bump with us. Basically, we want everyone to get "Pearl Bump Fever." Yet, no matter how hard we try, some people just don't get the excitement of the "Pearl Bump." They don't see the fun in it. They don't want to miss out on the bigger, more risky bumps. They don't want to be bored. They don't want to be limited to just one bump.

This is the hard part in life- when people don't share your same excitement. When you try so hard to infect others with your excitement and to let them see that the life of "pearl bumps" has so much to offer, yet, they still choose a road with bumps that have a lot more consequences than flying off your seat a few inches. They feel like they will be bored with the pearl bump excitement and trade it off for an excitement that is only temporary and leaves not just the gas tank empty but the soul as well. It's extremely hard to watch people abandon the "pearl bump" for their wrong perception of excitement, but you just have to keep your "pearl bump" light shining.

In life, God is the "pearl bump." Those who find Him and are, like I said earlier, in close connection with Him are the ones that find His irreplaceable value. They are infected with Pearl Bump Fever and just want everyone else to share the same excitement. They screech with elation while others who don't fully understand are the Elmer Fudds. Those who find Him completely and fully know that no other road can ever give you in a lifetime what the Pearl Bump offers in a single day, but to those who don't understand, the Pearl Bump seems restrictive and boring. Yet, when you reach the end of your life and you look back on the roads you traveled, do you want to see a life full of the Pearl Bump and the endless excitement that it offers and the eternal joy that it pours out, or do you want to look back on the risky roads that seemed to offer so much more joy and excitement but that left you with dents in your fender, holes in your tires, and no fuel in your tank? Will you listen to the voice who calls out to you and says "Hey, I love you. Follow me, and you will never want again"? Or will you hear the roar of your own selfish engine that says "You have all the time in the world to figure that out. Make that right choice another day. Come joy-ride with me a little while and worry about that later."
Which road will you choose?

Jenny Judy Program

Oh, hermit crabs. Who did not harass their parents endlessly on beach trips with the "please, please, please let me get one- I swear I will take care of it and feed it- which really means I am only six years old and have no idea how to tie my shoes much less provide for an animal-but it's cute and I will pout the entire way home if we don't get this- I won't ever ask Santa for anything again" argument. Well if you didn't, which you're lying and probably bitter because your argument wasn't successful, I did. I was thrilled beyond belief I am sure. So excited that I branded my hermit crab with the name....

.... Jenny Judy Program.
Most six and seven-year-old children pick Sparkles, Princess, Booboo, whatever else is simple and not complicated. I pick Jenny Judy Program, and that was a TRIPLE name. I really don't recall why I chose such an incredulous name, but that's besides the point. The point is, that was such a BIG name for such a SMALL hermit crab to handle. This is probably why she loathed me and decided to pinch my little fingers whenever she got the chance. Once again, besides the point.
My point is that in life, at times, we are ALL Jenny Judy Programs. For those of you who are not very creative-minded or are confused, hang tight, I promise I have an explanation. We all have burdens placed in our lives that are so much bigger than ourselves. It feels like more than we can handle. We all come to crossroads in our lives that are so overwhelming and hold consequences that are so much bigger than our current small steps. We all have big storms in our lives that make us feel like a small ship in the middle of a vast sea that is tossed and tumbled by every single gust of wind. We are a small hermit crab labeled with the enormous name Jenny Judy Program.
Situation sounds pretty hopeless right? Here's one more lesson from J.J.P for you. When you feel small and are overwhelmed by the bigness around you, pull out your pinchers. What does that mean? FIGHT. Be a J.J.P. When you're taken out of your comfort zone and prodded and poked and tossed in a thousand directions, pinch until you find your way back home. Conquer your burden. Find the path most suitable for you. Fight the storm and don't be discouraged by the howls of the wind. Yet, this still isn't enough sometimes is it?
Guess what? You're in luck. Unfortunately for Jenny Judy, she did not have any reinforcement when her pinchers weren't effective enough. However, you and I do. There is a God who takes away every burden. There is a God that guides you through every crossroad. There is a God who calms every storm. He pulls out his pinchers and fights for you when you can't fight any longer. He looks out for the Jenny Judy Programs of the world. (That's you and me!)
I received a sweet reminder of this Tuesday night. I was a Jenny Judy Program with a heavy heart when I walked into Campus Crusades. Yet, the music started, and it was one of my favorite worship songs. I began to feel a little sense of peace. The song ended, and the next song was another song that completely just spoke to my heart. By the third song, God had put a smile on one of His Jenny Judy Programs. I now knew that it didn't matter if my pinchers weren't good enough and if I felt overwhelmed in my J.J.P. world because I had someone a lot bigger than me guiding me and encouraging me. It took away the "Jenny Judy Program load."
So, quit fighting struggles that are bigger than you. Hand over your Jenny Judy Program problems and prepare to be completely encompassed and loved by something else that is a lot bigger than you and your hermit crab world.

When the Spaghetti Comes Rolling Down

Spaghetti. It has ALWAYS, and I mean always been one of my favorite foods. So no doubt about it, when I heard we were having it for dinner at my sorority house last night, I was 110% there. Who knew I would soon find significance and depth in lifeless noodles and meat sauce? I had just finished eating my truckload of food and talking to some friends when out of nowhere I saw and felt NOODLES and MEAT SAUCE rolling down my body.

I am NOT kidding you. A friend had dropped an entire plate of spaghetti down my shirt. Imagine your horrifying scences from a Lizzy McGuire, Boy Meets World, Amanda Bynes, Amelia Bedelia, LUCY RICARDO movie/episode/book and that was me. I think I even pulled a noodle out of my tennis shoe. Yet, these events are everyday life for me, so I laughed it off and said, "IF THIS IS ANY INDICATION OF THE REST OF MY NIGHT, I NEED TO LEAVE NOW."

I should have hit the ground running. Oh, how I LOVE irony.

After dinner, we had practice just like every other Wednesday, Yet, this would be a different practice for good old me. Long story short, my feet came out from underneath me, and I hit a brick floor head-first. The entire room went silent, and when I sat up, people were untying my shoes. It is never a comforting thought when people think you're incapable of taking off your own shoes. I tried to shake it off, but tears were flowing down my face from my throbbing head. I went upstairs and laid on an ice-pack, but soon they told me I needed to go to the doctor as a precaution. So, Maidee and I got in Chelsie's car, and she drove us to the ER. It is a really overwhelming moment in life when you look down on a sheet of paper and see your name with "head injury" beside it.

After the infamous ER wait, me trying to crack corny jokes with the workers, getting taken through two different rooms, discussing my last lady cycle with a male nurse, touching my nose with my fingers multiple times,taking a urine sample that of course the MALE nurse had to come receive, and seeing the actual doctor, I was told that they were going to do a CAT-scan to check for any possible complications like swelling or a brain leak.

Swelling or leaking in the brain. Those are extremely large words to swallow at nineteen.

My mind began to race. I began to think of every possible head injury I had ever heard about, and all I kept thinking was that this could not be the case for me. I was only nineteen. I had to master Accounting 201, convice 900 girls why they should be a DG, successfully park in between two cars without backing up a thousand times, and worry about missing the latest Glee episode. Not a brain leak. I know it seems overdramatic, but I am an honest worry-wart. Then a nurse came in with a wheelchair, and I had to leave my friends behind. As I was slowly pushed towards the next room, anxiety permeated my mind. I had never been to a hospital without my mother there (she did however drive like a bat out of Hades and got there right as I was dismissed), never had to have my head checked, and never heard the possibility of "brain leak." When we arrived in the room, I saw a screen that I had seen a thousand times in Grey's Anatomy and similiar TV shows, but this machine wasn't for a fictional character. It was for me. That's another horse pill to swallow. However, the system was down, and the guy had to leave me for a brief second before the scan began. As I sat in the room alone facing a screen with a diagram of a brain that would soon show my own, I felt like my "spaghetti had come rolling down." My once compact, undisturbed, mixed together, and neat plate-of-spaghetti life had now come rolling down. It was messy. It was chaotic. The noodles were separated from the sauce. I didn't have my friends, I didn't have my strong-as-a-mule mother, and I didn't have the answers either. I only had one place to turn when my spaghetti came rolling down. With tears in my eyes as I was waiting for the man to come back, I started praying out loud. Although I desperately hoped the man did not come back to see me talking out loud to the empty room and think I was much worse off than I was and send me to a mental instituition, I did not care. I was talking to the only One who could reassemble my spaghetti. I was talking to the only One who could comfort me when things were messy. I was talking to the only One who can give hope when your plate comes rolling down.

The CAT-scan results were minor. I had a slight concussion, and the only consequence I received was a very sore head/neck and a week without physical activity. My plate was neatly reassembled. Yet, this would not have been possible without two amazing friends, a God-send of a mother, and faith in One a lot larger than me.

So although my incident is minor compared to a BILLION of other people's unfortunate days, I learned a lesson from it all, and the lesson came from the beginning of my crazy-Lucy day- the spaghetti. When your perfect plate of spaghetti comes unexpectedly rolling down, where will you turn? When no one else around you can help you and you are alone, how will you make sense of the mess? When your noodles and meatballs are scrambled, where will you find strength and peace?

"Cast all your anxieties on Him, for He cares for you."- 1 Peter 5:7

Let me rephrase this for you: "Give me, your dropped plate. Give me every slimy noodle and every enormous meatball. Don't worry. I will make your mess into something neat again.I will reassemble your spaghetti."

So, the next time your spaghetti comes rolling down, remember there is always someone waiting to take your mess, give you hope, and reassemble every noodle.

A Lasting Love.

I seriously feel like I have been on a Lucy/Stupid-train ever since I returned to Oxford. I am going to blame it on the euphoria of being back in my beloved secondary home, but it is beginning to get a tad bit ridiculous. I have said the most off-the-wall absurdities lately- including the one I am about to share. If you know me well, you know I am obsessed with old people and the obnoxiously cute things that they just naturally do. My heart seriously turns into mush when I see an old couple like the picture above. Well, today I was riding in the car with Tate, and we passed by the Square where I saw an elderly couple walking down the street. My heart began its pitter-patter, and I proclaimed,

"Oh my gosh, they are so precious. I want to be like them when I am that old."

Normal reaction right? Maybe a little over-dramatic, but still normal. Well, apparently the money my mother shells out for my contact lenses is going to schmuck because of Tate's reply:

"Shelby, that is two men...."

I tried. Who knew the man just really liked colorful plaid shirts? So, I guess I should say they were precious friends.

My whole point here though is that I saw (or what I thought I saw) a lasting love. A love that had conquered all. A love that persevered in times of trouble, rejoiced in times of triumph, danced in times of celebration, and lasted throughout all of these. The kind of love that changes your life completely.

Although my "cute couple" turned out to be two old men, I was introduced to the true form of "lasting love" this past week as well. As I was reading my Bible, I came across this verse:

"By this, all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have LOVE for one another."- John 13:35.

This is THE lasting love. Our lives are molded and designed to carry out one simple task- LOVE. We are simply asked to love one another. (Yet, this can sometimes be a great challenge- but nonetheless, a wonderfully powerful one). This verse suggests that people will know we are HIS by our LOVE.

And what kind of love were we given that we are now asked to give?

A lasting love. A love that conquers all. A love that perseveres in times of troubles, rejoices in times of triumph, dances in times of celebration, and lasts throughout all of these. A love that changes our lives completely.

Capsized.

So, as promised in my first blog, I have a TRUE Lucy moment to share. It seriously is my everyday lifestyle, but I have an extreme recent Lucy occurrence. It would of course include this:



High heels. The death of me. No, this is not my shoe, (isn't it sassy though?) but it was a similiar pink heel that led me to transform into my Lucy alter ego. I was ONLY trying to enjoy my night with my friends at the lovely KA house, but of course humiliation loves me and chooses to follow me constantly. On with the story, I had almost made it through the night without a blunder, and I had actually gotten compliments on the shoes. Well, the shoes got a little too arrogant and decided to show out.

I walked into the kitchen to find a friend to ask when we were leaving- LEAVING. I was so so close to being out of the danger zone. Well, the shoe obviously had become unbuckled much to my complete lack of knowledge, and just as a group of probably ten people were getting up from a table, I fell flat on my HANDS and KNEES in the middle of the KA kitchen. Mind you, this was not a quiet fall. The room went completely silent, but only for half of a second. Then I was hearing all variations of "that girl is so messed up." While I was searching for my long, lost friends Grace and Composure on the kitchen floor, I felt an arm go around mine, and a boy was helping me back on my feet. I quickly began to issue my "I'm so sorry- I don't know how this happened- I don't even drink even though I look like a raging drunk- I am COMPLETELY SOBER- this is just my humiliating every day lifestyle- thank you so much" spill."

I was completely sober and had fallen flat on the floor. Sadly, I have done this before.

Yet, not many people believed me. They didn't know that I was the clumsiest person they would ever encounter. They didn't know that I had a history as long as the Nile of unlucky and humiliating moments. They didn't know me. All they knew is what they saw- and my fall could have made Snooki look sober.

I feel like in life we judge from the capsize moments. We see the fall, don't give the benefit of a doubt, and write it off as what we perceive the situation to be. No one in the room thought I was clumsy- they thought I was drunk. If they had known me, they would have known it was pure lack of balance. Life is, in a sense, the same. We don't take the time to get to know the large majority of people around us. We live by what we see and hear and don't take the time to find real truth. People around us plead, just like I did, that I'm not what you think I am, I am something completely different. But, if we were honest with ourselves, do we hear them? Or are we living life by our own eyes and our own perceptions and oblivious to the capsize moments of people around us and the truth behind these moments?

Just thoughts from my time on the floor :)

Feels like Home to Me

My new obsession. Seriously. I was obsessed.

Close-up of the pillows (please note the doll :) )

My side :) Half of my side/Maggie's side

This is my new "home," and I love it. My favorite thing is probably my new Oxford canvas. I really did not believe in love-at-first-sight until I saw it, but now, I am a true believer. I literally called my mother in a frenzy, sped to the restaurant where we were supposed to meet, rushed through my meal, drove her back to the antique store, bought the painting, and was ten minutes late for my move-in time because of this purchase. I mean- that is true love is it not? If you are still not convinced, let me illustrate another picture for you. This canvas is supposedly 24 x 48. Now, imagine Shelby, who was not blessed in the common sense department, with a 24 x 48 canvas in the middle of a parking lot at prime-time-scorcher with a loaded down car with only centimeters of empty space. Needless to say, it took me a while to get the painting in the car.

However, the canvas was only the sprinkles on top of my cake, because the true delight was getting to see all of my sweet friends that I had missed so much. Living with my pledge class all on the same floor is indescribable. It has been so much fun, and it has only been a few days. I am sure many, many more stories will be unfolded about this floor during the year.

I also now have a Twitter. I am now a definite technology nerd. It is becoming a problem.

Finally, I went to church on Sunday with some of the lovely Deegs, and I loved it. As I close with this blog, I wanted to share the first thing the preacher said. He started off with "One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind." Of course this is referring to 1969 exploration to the moon, but since the preacher is so amazing, he linked it to our daily lives. Each small step we take can make a giant change in our lives. Everywhere Armstrong's foot landed, he was, in a sense, claiming territory for America and science. Every step we take, we are claiming territory by the life we live. So therefore, what small step will we take tomorrow, and what giant leap could it bring to our lives?

Bicycles and Beaches

So, I just returned from a two-day get-a-way to Rosemary Beach with Maggie and her absolutely adorable family. Although it rained the majority of the time, we did get a few hours in the sun and sand and two days of vacation, so it was perfect. Also, I was introduced to Red Bar which was nothing short of amazing. I will be running for quite a while tomorrow, but it was well worth it.
While I was at Rosemary, I was also reunited with bicycles- this was a Lucy moment for sure. After a rough start and a close call with a four or five-year-old little boy merely trying to enjoy his vacation and bike adventure with his dad, I began to catch on once again. And to be quite honest, I enjoyed it. I wish I had had my camera to document the bike ride because the houses and shops we passed along the way were so cute and all had their own unique, picturesque charm. Anyways, as I was struggling to conquer the bicycle and navigate successfully, I couldn't help but think that I was revisiting part of my childhood (not to mention I probably had not been on a bike since I was ten and thought Lance Bass and I had serious marriage potential). Yes, for that short period of time, I was a kid again. I was riding a bicycle, nervous of falling, but once I caught the hang of it, I was fearless. I couldn't help but think to myself how life would be if we revisited aspects of our childhood and took on that attitude. Like the bike, I was fearless and drove faster to feel the wind against my face and amazed by what I saw along the ride. Or we should be the child who dreams of being a rockstar, an actress, the doctor who cures cancer, or whatever else our heart desires and is not discouraged by the world, others around us, or are grounded by "reality." Or the child who loves quickly and forgives even faster and whose bitter feelings are as easily forgotten as their name on the top of their papers at school. Or the child who takes a completely motionless swing and soars to unimaginable heights by their efforts alone and the child who takes his sole piece of sidewalk chalk and creates a masterpiece even if the rain will wash it away the next day. Or the child who still dances when the music stops and makes his own moves as he or she goes. I think you get what I'm saying. I had an amazing past two days, and I am very glad that I, for two days, was a kid all over again.

Caved.

So, as the title says, I have caved.
I got a blog.
I blame this on all of the other people I know who already have blogs, and I have become obsessed with the idea and more obsessed with reading their blogs. So I shall try my own. I named the blog moderndayslucy (I wanted moderndaylucy but someone already has that blog and hasn't written on it since 2004- I wish you would delete yours so I could have your name!) because I am sure that is what my blog will centralize around. By modern-day lucy, I am referring to Lucille Ball. A cheerleading coach in jr. high told me that my life is one big "I Love Lucy" episode, and quite frankly, it has remained this way since. I mean not many sober people can successfully fall flat on their bottom in a dress and heels, at a date party, their freshman year of college. Also, not many people lose their shoe and watch it tumble helplessly down the stairs behind them as they are leading their class out of their graduation ceremony in front of the entire town and have to walk down the stairs grab the shoe in one hand, diploma in the other, and limp out of the roaring-with-laughter auditorium. Both, sadly, happened to me.

I also decided on Girl Meets World because that is where my life is right now. In the past year, I have moved away from home,experienced an amazing freshman year of college, met so many amazing new people, changed my major, and discovered more about myself along the way. I am beginning to meet the world.

I should probably be short and sweet with my first post, so I will end with a piece of my current world. Now that I am home for the summer- I have received an enormous amount of free time and have found my ways back to leisure reading. I recently picked up Joanna Weaver's Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World, and I highly highly recommend it- although I am only like fifty-pages into it. Anyways, one thing I have really taken from it so far was a definition of true devotion. However, since Joanna credited Robert Boyd Munger, I suppose I should as well. In his article "My Heart Christ's Home" (which she talks about in the book) he says that "true devotion is not a duty- it is a delight. It is not an exercise in piety- it is a privilege. And it is not so much a visit as it is a homecoming."

I love this definition. I feel as if so many times, devotion is another task to add to the to-do-list. We try and try to find the time to do this in our day and often fall short, but we cannot see this as a task. We are to see this as a delight. It is supposed to do something because we love it and want to- not because we feel as if we need to or should do it. It's amazing to think what devotion would be like if this was everyone's perception.

So, this turned out not to be so short. I will work on my rambles next time.

Hello and goodbye blog world,
Shelby