Top Tens on the Tenth

I love lists. To-dos, favorites, shopping lists, wish lists...ah...Something feels so satisfying about writing down the jumbled mess that's bouncing around in my head in a loose, concise, free form. If you've been reading me long, you may have observed this in my writing pattern. I like how things sound together. Take three things that I love:  Wrestling, dresses, and movies. On their own, they're nice. But together, beautiful. So here's my latest idea. Every month on the tenth I am going to blog a Top Ten list. And since today is the tenth here is my list of...

...Top Ten reasons I am going to blog my Top Tens monthly:

1. It'll keep me blogging consistently.

2. It will be refreshing to have some short, easy to read blogs as a break from my novel-length musings.

3. I love lists.  :)

4. It will help me reflect upon things I love, hate, want to change etc.

5. It's cute. Top TENS on the TENTH. Cuteness is a priority.

6. I can display my original photos along with my lists.

7. It gets my creative gears 'a turnin' and opens me up to new possibilities.

8. I will have to prioritize (something I'm not always good at) and be decisive (something I'm never good at).

9. I write these sorts of things naturally, and I want this blog to reflect who I really am.

10. I feel like it. Gosh.

Once a wrestler, always a wrestler.

Yes, I was a wrestler in high school. Once a wrestler, always a wrestler. Wrestling is more of a family than a sport. I hate telling people I wrestled because the conversation automatically shifts and lingers on me. Why are people shocked that I am a wrestler? Maybe YOU can answer that for me. I guess it's hard to picture someone "sweet" and "petite" pushing competitors' faces into a sweaty mat. People that think that don't know me very well. Probably to no fault of their own. It's harder to share that part of myself because it's more controversial. I let people know the me that's easiest to get along with. Who wouldn't like a female version of Mr. Rogers?

Anywho, if you don't know the back story, my friend Evelyn and I started the first ever women's wresting team at Warden High. It was a battle since people in our small, conservative community had a hard time accepting girls being a part of the program. Our team policy was to wrestle girls only in practice and at matches. And eventually, we were allowed to compete.  That first year there were just two of us, plus our coach Valerie Hernandez. Wrestling is physically, mentally, emotionally EXHAUSTING. My senior year, with some recruitment (mostly foreign exchange students), our team grew to six. People thought the girls wrestling thing might just die off. But each year it's grown and last year the team took 6th place in the female division of the state tournament.

It's hard to invest so much into something and then leave it behind. When I go back to wrestling to help coach the girls in practice or watch a match I always feel awkwardly out of place. I wonder if they even know who I am or want me there. I'm a fatty (the wrestling term for out of shape) and most of them have surpassed the skill level I acquired in those two years. But after my mom and I drove to watch the girls wrestle in a match all those worries faded away. The team found me in the stands and in a single file line they shook my hand and hugged me. They thanked me for coming to the match and for giving them an opportunity to wrestle. Wrestling changed my life. It helped me battle my fears and self-doubt. I relied on God for the strength it required. I got to be a leader and an encourager for my teammates. But beyond that I didn't have a ton of success. I competed in, but didn't place in the state tournament. My experience reminded me what wrestling was really about.  I'd rather have the arms of those girls around my neck than a state medal any day.

How many gods would pour out their heart to romance a world that has torn all apart?



(Original photo)

 Are there any stories that you've heard a thousand times that you somehow discover have caverns of meaning you've yet to explore? For me, much of the bible is this way. I grumble to reread that cliché parts: the cross, Jonah and the whale, Adam and Eve, Noah's Ark, and especially the birth of Christ. Even people who don't believe in the bible know about that one, thanks to Charlie Brown's Christmas. Yet this year, when I heard that same ole story once again, sparks flew. The implications of the age old tale, the babe in the manger, the angels, and the shepherds echoes into our lives today. The baby changes everything. Maybe you recognized the story's greatness the first time you heard it, maybe you think the story was made up to help sell Christmas cards, but play along with me.

Just a little back story to the nativity scene: the world was separate from God. Because of sin. Because in that first Genesis story, people decided that God was holding out on them. Eve chose to take things into her own hands but then Adam rushed to rescue her from sin...oh wait...no. He stood by and did nothing. He actually took part in disobeying God's only forbiddance. Since then the world was sick. It was rampant with the sin disease. People gave God the finger and did whatever they wanted or they straight ignored His existence. Death crept into the world and brought with it sorrow, pain, grief, anger, destruction. God didn't just sit back and watch this new, broken world. He gave them guidelines, that would keep them safe, and make their lives better. But people ignored those too. God made appearances, but He kept a distance because when something is pure, it cannot touch something impure or it too will become impure. It was painful to be apart from what you love, and God could not imagine His treasured creations spending eternity without Him. He had a rescue plan.

God decided to come to Earth. As fully man, and fully God. That way He could touch man's heart. Now, God could have made a grand entrance. He had thunder, lightning, earthquakes, volcanoes, tornadoes, chariots of fire, plagues of locust, kings and queens all at his disposal. Instead, God came in the quiet of the night. And the only sign that pointed to His arrival was a bright, beautiful star. Those who'd listened to God's messengers knew exactly what was happening. People had been talking about this for years. But who would have expected a young, scared couple gave birth to the God of the Universe, in the form of Jesus, God's son? The mighty being, left His throne in heaven where he'd never felt the cold, never seen a dark night, never had to sneeze, to come to disease-ridden Earth. He came as the most dependent of creatures: a baby. He had to be fed, He had to be protected, He pooped His pants. Did he come to the grandest places on Earth? Was he born in a palace? Or perhaps a Macy's parade. No. God had so much humility that His son was born in a stable. The place they keep farm animals. And who did God send to tell the news that His son had been born, that God had come to earth? A grand choir? A professional motivational speaker? The president? Nope. Nope. And nope. God sent angels to tell a group of grungy old Shepards. Shepards weren't exactly the cool kids of the time. In fact, they were looked down upon. They were poor, simple men of trade. Yet God chose these nobody specials to spread the greatest news the world would ever hear.

I bet Mary didn't know as she held her baby that He would grow up to live a perfect life, loving people while spreading the good news about relationship with God, and die to finally give people the power to be free of the bondage of sin. He would bridge the gap between God and man that had been created by sin. He would rescue the world. He would rescue me.

Thanks

When I heard that my campus' branch of Campus Crusade for Christ was hosting a mission trip to East Asia during Thanksgiving break my first thought was, sign me up! You see, this was a special trip in hopes to help build world vision that the individuals who went would spread to the rest of our movement. Coug staff kept these things in mind as they selected a few students to accept this challenge. I know that I would have said "YES!!!" If they'd asked me, and couldn't understand why they didn't.

I was SO BLESSED to be able to spend 5 weeks in Costa Rica this summer, just serving God. Sure there were a few large bugs, weird foods, and lonely, uncomfortable situations along the way. But for the most part I got to spend my time loving God, loving my team, and loving Costa Rican university students. What could be more fun than that? So naturally, when a similar opportunity came along, I was cock-eyed enthusiastic about it.

God and I reconciled about me not being called to go on the trip. I decided that what I really needed was a week of rest. I would hit ministry hard when I came back feeling refreshed and renewed. And God was calling me to be a part of this trip through prayer and finances. I loved being on my friends' support teams. My heart needed to give more than it needed to go.

Well, after living out this week I am so thankful to have had it. Inspired by Amanda Laplante's list of things she and Eric are thankful for, here are the things I'm thankful for--Thanksgiving break edition:

Sleeping in til 10. Staying in my pajamas all day. Sledding. Harry Potter. Jordan. Connor. Joey. Late night tv + talk with Joey. Mom. Big girls night out. The Grinch. Hot chocolate. Popcorn. Tea. Muffins. Banana bread. Snow Angels. Dad. Turkey. Mashed Potatoes. Ellen. Kelly and Rose, just like old times. Mischievous dogs. A warm cat. A bed that seems HUGE compared to the one in my dorm. Weddings. Wearing pretty dresses. Philip Arnold. Dance parties. Strobe light app. Rice-a-roni. Jesus music. Taylor Swift's Speak Now CD. Snow plows. Peppermint bark. Pizza with jalapenos on top. The game of things. Jill's jello. Just dance 2. Rudolph the Red-nosed reindeer. Glee Christmas music. Cousins. A tank full of gas. Free meals. Family. Jesus. Love.

Conclusion: God is smarter than me.

Goodbye hunting season! See you again next year.

*Disclaimer* I have nothing against hunting. I actually think it's great that Philip, my boyfriend enjoys it. Granted, I resent the fact that my dad snuck strange elk and deer meat into my diet against my knowledge growing up. I know Phil likes bonding with his dad and uncle, being in the woods, getting away from Pullman for awhile. And when I went with him, I actually enjoyed it for the most part. Hunting is a perfectly good hobby. Here's my issue. I hate that it takes Philip away from me for 6 consecutive weekends each year. I've seen people who make hunting more important than anything else. They neglect their families, and invest excess amounts of time and money into the sport. Phil is definitely not one of those. He proves it by skipping hunting when my birthday, or an equally important event falls on the same day as season. It's just that as busy college students, most of our free time lands on the weekends. We've been good about sneaking dates into Wednesday afternoons and making an effort to be active in each other's lives throughout the week. And his absence has given me the chance to have extra girl time! But I am so ready to have our normal hangout routines back. As of this weekend I am a hunting widow no more! (I wrote this poem while Philip was out shooting things and I missed him.)

Hunting

You are shooting deer
and my heart
drops.
Lifeless,
with the body,
into a crunch of leaves.
Sift through wafts of burnt candles
I catch your scent
freshly wetted bark
like a butterfly in my hands.
I peek at it,
it flutters away.
I run through trees
And see only wrinkles in the
blanket of green
that might be you.
Like fireflies,
the first snow of winter
falls.