I See a Pattern

Brenda wakes up to find her little red car buried underneath the cold, wet snow.

Brenda braves the cold, wet snow to clean off her little red car.

Brenda turns around to find her little red car buried underneath the cold, wet, and totally relentless snow.

Brenda braves the...oh, FORGET IT, and has decided not to clean off her no longer cute car again until tomorrow morning. BRR and GRR.

A New Home

As I sat in the back pew of Bethany Lutheran Church on the eve before Thanksgiving Day, I found myself most thankful for my new church home.

I was becoming increasingly unhappy with the services at my former church. I've been wrestling with whether or not I should start looking for a new church for over two years. I was so sad that I couldn't look forward to Sunday mornings anymore. I even joined the Sunday School team in hopes that maybe I'd find a new reason to commit to this particular church.

I enjoy a traditional church service. One where there is a litany to be followed, hymns to be sung, and a message from the Bible to be delivered. I look to the leaders at my church to provide this kind of experience, and quite honestly, it just wasn't happening. The sanctuary was just another room in the building, parents were allowing children to run around and talk throughout the worship service, the drum beat was rather obnoxious during the Gloria Patri, the pulpit was just another place to pass along an announcement....you get the point.

I know it seems like these objections are such a paradox to who I am - I love children and I love music. You'd think that I would enjoy their presence in the service. The problem was, these issues were beginning to be distractions, and taking me away from the real purpose of being part of a church community - God.

I grew up in a church that provided a traditional service, and once a year we would travel to an exciting retreat spot, where we would have a more contemporary worship experience. Lights, projectors, guitars - it really was exciting! Each year, I looked forward to this rather public re-commitment to my faith.Along with these yearly treks came the appreciation for my more solemn, reverent weekly services. Being a musician, I enjoyed a quiet service, without the stigma of a performance, without the bells and whistles. I'm not a person who easily reflects or relaxes into deep thought (I know, big surprise), so I always welcomed the chance to quietly focus.

I can also appreciate the power of a more contemporary service, and the people it helps bring closer to God. I can't deny that the contemporary church services are full of families, and I am happy that they can find a faith experience that fits their needs. What I finally realized is that I needed an experience that fit MY needs, and that this was something I could do something about. Changing jobs or careers is much more difficult than changing church congregations, no matter how strong the ties are. I couldn't let my guilt over leaving good people overshadow a decision that was ultimately in my hands.

This has been an intensely personal journey - one where I needed to find my own path and still listen to God at the same time. That's hard for one very independent Brenda. :)

I'm so happy to say that I have found a wonderful new congregation. One where at 8:00 am, the doors of the Sanctuary are closed, and the worship experience begins. There is reverence, there is respect, there is peace. The pews rattle with the power of the organ. There is a definite devotion to quality music. The message directly relates to the Scriptures.

So, I am very thankful for my new church home, and I've only just begun to explore this church and congregation!

Total Glass-Hole

Rarr. Just when I think I'm back on track (I'm feeling healthy again, ready for the next concert series, etc.), I encounter the world's largest pile of broken glass on the road. You know, the pile that looks bigger than your car, but is probably only as big as your hand.

There it was, shining in the sunlight, taunting my tires. Thankfully, I knew better than to swerve to avoid the pile, as I would have taken out the car next to me. Oh, no - the glittering glass wasn't in THEIR lane. They drove safely on by, "Baby on Board" sign waving as they maneuvered on down the road. Best wishes.
Meanwhile, only 1 minute from home, my perfectly fine rings of rubber drove directly over the lustrous lump of doom, crackling and hissing upon direct contact. Rarr. I quickly drove into my parking lot, found a spacious section where I could swap out my injured tire for a tire meant for pygmies, and got to work.
Nine - yes, nine - minutes later, my car looked like a three-legged dog with a strange-looking eye patch, and I was back in business. I'm sure my garage will have plenty of openings to make my tire good as new. Thank goodness it's not a holiday week or anything... Glass-hole.

The 16th of the Month

Today, it occurred to me that I'll only be in my twenties for 3 more months. Not that I mind moving to my thirties - the date just reminded me of this random fact.

Gingerbread and Iron Butts

Robin, Wren, and more SUGAR than 2 children should EVER have access to: we worked forever on this Gingerbread House. Note to self: there is not enough frosting in the world to get a pre-frosted roof piece to stay in place. I was contemplating super-glue... If you decide to create a gingerbread house for yourself or family, be prepared - the entire process of making the house is an absolute MESS. The girls had a blast, however, which was the whole point! Yum!

Mom and the Giant Tree: She's the tiny little figure at the bottom of the picture. She made my dad pull over alongside a road near Door County, WI to take this amazing picture. Autumn in Wisconsin is always beautiful! Later that day, they visited my Grandmother's brother, who revealed that I had decided to move to Colorado (and had told them all about it before telling my own parents). Whoops. Apparently, really good memories can be found on my dad's side of the family!

Dad has an Iron Butt: That's the fancy name of an association that is dedicated to the sport of safe, long-distance endurance riding on a motorcycle! He's holding a certificate that certifies that he rode a total of 1,035 miles in less than 24 hours, starting in Sheboygan, WI continuing on through Minnesota, South Dakota, and ending in Wyoming. Sweet!

WOOHOO! President Obama!

In Repose

"I write that Andréa remains with us in spirit, but his body is finished with living on Earth. He passed away this morning, All Souls’ Day, at 11:05, with family surrounding the bed ..." PC

In Repose...

• temporary rest from activity, excitement or exertion

• the rest given by sleep
• a state of peace

May Andréa find eternal peace, while Penelope finds peace within her soul.

Painting by Andréa Cecchini

Colorful Colorado

Here are some pictures from a restful weekend in Estes Park, CO.

Ann and I at Lake Lily
And by restful, I mean scaling the walls of a chapel...St. Malo
Ann's Dad caught this ice in running water by the Chapel
Another picture captured by Ann's Dad - beautiful!

Twist and Shout

Ah, the annual tie-dying of the shirts. Our school colors are tie dye (ok, that's more of a style than an actual color), and we are wearing tie-dye shirts at a big, city-wide concert coming up in November. Wanting to give my kids the opportunity to own a tie dye t-shirt without breaking the bank, I actually make the shirts myself in my home. I charge them $7, which is way less than what the normal school spirit wear would cost.

First, I take the color orders from the kids. They choose any kind of combination of orange, blue, and purple. Most kids choose all three colors. This year, I made over 60 shirts. The entire process completely takes over my home, as seen in this picture. The shirts are so white and clean before I start!

I learned the hard way last year that unless you put on super-protective gloves for the entire process, your hands will turn purple and become very raw. (You also cannot touch your face, or you will have have red, irritated skin. Forgot that one. Ouch.) I had a nice pair of YELLOW gloves, but I tore a hole in them on the first day. Consequently, the fingers on my right hand are purple, and I was forced to purchase these PINK gloves in order to save my remaining digits.

After the shirts have soaked in a really nasty chemical bath, you ring them out like there is no tomorrow. Next, you put the shirt face down on a clean surface and twist. This seems like a really simple step, but those dang sleeves always get in the way. The swirled shirt pictured here is an example of a perfect roll. It was my 57th shirt....about time!

Here is one batch of swirled shirts, ready to be blasted with color. It's so hard to squirt dark dye onto white shirts. Goes against everything I know about clean clothes. I squirt the color into 1 quadrant of the shirt, making sure it is really saturated. Extremely technical term: dripping.

Ah, the after picture. Once the shirts soak over night in a plastic bag, I wash them twice to get rid of any excess dye. They are dried, folded, and put into clean plastic bags, and are ready to give to the kiddos. I love seeing the shirts all over the school, as the kids wear them often. They don't have any specific markings that say 'choir' or our school name, so they can wear them for any occasion.

2 Days. 62 shirts. And I thought I was on vacation.

At a Loss for Words

I'm desperately trying not to jump in a car, and drive to Eau Claire, WI. My dear friend and former piano professora has begun at-home hospice care for her husband. We speak to each other weekly, mostly by phone, sometimes by e-mail. I know that there is absolutely nothing that I can say or do - the distance from CO to WI is achingly far.

She seems focused on her task at hand - enjoying the time she has left with her husband, making him as comfortable as possible, and prioritizing what does and does not have to be done right now. Family members have volunteered to assist her in caretaking, which is a relief. Still, you can hear the hurt in her voice, and it absolutely tears me up. I'm guessing the woman is all of 5 feet tall (at the most), yet carries herself like a woman twice her height. Where she draws her inner-strength, I'll never know - she has always been an amazing rock. Her love and adoration for her husband is evident, and my heart breaks to think of her angst.

This woman has made an indelible mark on my life, my music, my heart. Her influence shaped the teacher I am today, and the musician I continually aspire to be. I write these thoughts to spread a sense of warmth and comfort to her family, as all I can really offer right now is hope, support, prayer, and love.

Oops!

Not exactly what you want to hear from the nurse who is holding the flu shot needle that is protruding from your arm.

"Oops?! What exactly you mean by Oops!?" I ask, as the needle is withdrawn from my arm, and the blood begins to drip from my now-forming wound.

"Well..." the nurse says, as I turn away from the long line of my students who are watching their brave teacher get a flu shot before them. "I think that's going to leave a bruise."

A bruise. A lump. A puncture wound. An incapacitated left arm.

I deflated the nurse's tires as I left the parking lot. I feel much better.

An Abundance of Thanks

I have a lot to be grateful for today:

• My pastor made it through quadruple bypass surgery, and is on the mend,
• I was able to use my fabulous, frequent flyer miles for a WI trip in January, thank goodne$$,
• I was given beautiful flowers and candy by a darling student, in thanks for "keeping my mom and I safe in the crosswalk each morning", and
• I've been asked to give the Benediction at my Masters Commencement Ceremony at Regis University in December! Amen!
  

Woohoo! Now THAT is a great Monday!

Just Keep Swimming

I think now would be a good time to tell a delightful story from my childhood. Why? Because I believe I have fully redeemed myself by keeping my 2 Betas alive and well. Four weeks and counting, thank you.

Once upon a time, there were 2 friends named Brenda and Kim. After a fun over-night sleepover, Kim's mom bids the girls adieu, tells Brenda to head on home, and leaves for her job. Brenda, not wanting to leave quite yet, goes downstairs to see Kim's magical, tropical fish. (Technically, they were her stepdad's fish, but I digress).

Brenda, always wanting to be the helpful little smurf, decided to 'assist' Kim by feeding the fish. Taking the entire fish food bucket - yes, bucket - into her hands, she proceeds to slowly pour the flakes into the large, perfectly-cleaned, temperature-appropriate, tropical aquarium. Now, the aquarium was the stepdad's pride and joy, and was filled with tens of pretty, shiny, expensive tropical fish. Fish that are fed by one person and one person only: the stepdad. Children, especially with names that rhyme with "enda", are not allowed near this aquarium.

Unfortunately, (wait for it), the bucket did not release the fish flakes one by one, as Brenda had hoped. Oh, no...they POURED into the aquarium like a child on a Slip-n Slide. A nice, steady stream of fish flakes. Many, many fish flakes.

Kim, having watched helper Brenda from the sidelines, proceeds to move directly to Panic Mode, screaming at her less-than-helpful friend. She runs upstairs to get a kitchen strainer, in the hopes of rescuing the many, and might I add once again, expensive, tropical fish, from their sure-fire death. Brenda, who has an innate ability to begin laughing upon impending doom, stands to the side, giggling. Not very helpful.

Having not found much success with the strainer, Kim calls her mother, who rushes home. Not very happy to have found Brenda still present, Kim's mother tries in vain to rescue the expensive tropical fish. Having realized her husband will be very angry, she turns her wrath on Brenda, yelling and screaming at the still-giggling blond. Fearing for her life, Brenda bolts upstairs, out the front door, and runs down the block. Kim's mother runs after Brenda, gets into her car, and chases the fugitive through the streets of the neighborhood.

Being a fast little delinquent, Brenda runs until she is out of breath, stopping only to see how close the KimMomMobile is. Knowing she cannot outrun the ever-nearing V8 engine, Brenda spies her escape in a large, evergreen tree. She dives under the large, pointy, scratchy branches of the tree, and army-crawls it to the trunk in the center. Kim's mom parks the car, and starts yelling at the now-unreachable girl. Even at a young age, it occurs to Brenda that Kim's mom must look like a total goon, yelling and screaming at a tree.

Long story, story long...Brenda was banned from Kim's home for 2 years, no evergreen trees were harmed in the telling of this story, and 13 tropical fish now rest in peace.

A Letter from my Pillow

Dear Brenda,

Thank you so much for trying out Ambien this past week. It's so nice to have you near me again, hour after hour. No more tossing and turning. No more abandoning me for the couch at 2 am. You are with me for a good 8 hours straight. It's great to have your company - I've missed you!

Sincerely,
Your Pillow

The Great Entanglement

Ever have one of those days, where everything seems to be going completely wrong? Where people are mad at you for no reason? Where you have a ton of things to do, and seem to get nothing done? Where people try to run you over in the parking lot (ok, this one might be unique to me)? THAT was my last Thursday. Just when I was ready to throw in the towel and sit at my desk, pouting for the rest of the day, the following happens:

I'm teaching my second-to-last class of the day. My first graders, who always cheer me up, are rip-roaring, ready to go, dancing and a-singing with me in a circle. Everyone but one little guy, who is hopping around, but not really dancing. Now, having taught for 7 years, I happen to know this particular look - the one where the knees are close together, hands are usually in the pockets, and there is a look of panic in the face. Add a couple of little hops, and very little eye contact.

Now, I know from past experience that when you see this little dance, the best course of action is to excuse the kiddo, and FAST. Let them go the restroom immediately, because, by about now, they'd held it longer than they should, and REALLY have to go.

SO, I excuse the little guy to the restroom, and he proceeds to HOP to the door. Yes, HOP. Not dash like the rest of the kids do...HOP. Only then do I notice that he doesn't need to use the restroom at all. Rather, he is doing the new "I've Tied my Legs Together with my Shoelaces and can't seem to Pry the Knot Apart" Dance. It's all the rage. He has literally taken the shoelace from one shoe and tied it around his other leg, rendering him less-than-mobile. It took everything in me not to laugh out loud. Part of me wanted to watch him hop over to my desk, but decided against the all-class humiliation. My mood was certainly improving, however. I got the class going on a partner activity so they were occupied, and went and swooped up the little guy to bring him to my desk for some serious knot-untying.
Apparently, right after lunch (which mind you, is 3 hours prior to my class), my little friend was playing around with his shoelaces. By the time he made it to music class, his legs had been tied together for hours, and were rubbing a raw spot in his leg. Poor guy! After struggling with the knot for a while myself, I finally removed his shoe, un-threaded the lace, and freed my entangled friend. He gave me this big old sheepish grin for setting him free. Off he scrambled to catch up with his classmates, happy as a clam. Seriously, who could possibly be grumpy after that!?

Say again?!

"Ms. G. - my mom and dad asked me to ask YOU if you've ever Puffed the Magic Dragon."
---Second grade boy responding to the question "Did you tell your parents about the fairy-tale we learned about yesterday?"

"Can I just go call my mom and have her bring you some of her best homemade cookies? I mean, they are usually pretty good...sort of."
---Second grade boy who was in a heap-load of trouble with me after smacking both a classmate and a xylophone - his attempt to get in my good graces did NOT work, although his attempt was certainly amusing!

Projectile Snowmen

First graders are great. They still look at you in awe, curious about what you are going to do or say next. The music room is still a room of wonderment, and they are anxious and excited to learn. They are most receptive to the message of "be careful with the instruments" and "these are not toys" and "sharing is a good thing" - all things we covered last Thursday upon handing out the new instruments in our class.

We had no sooner begun our first song + instruments selection of the day, when the click-clack, talking Snowman head goes F-L-Y-I-N-G toward my face! The kiddo using that instrument got a little bit too excited, and really had his snowman head clicking to the rhythm. The snowman head flies across the circle, and lands right at my feet, just as the picture above shows. Note the eyes, staring right at me, ready to attack.

There was that great moment of complete silence - where the kids were in emotional limbo. They clearly didn't know what I'd do next, having just given them the 'be careful' speech. I put my hand to my mouth to disguise the fact that I was CRACKING UP - I mean, really, who knew I'd have to dodge a projectile snowman head! Eventually, I couldn't hold back my laughter, and the kids breathed a sigh of relief. I LOVE MY JOB!

The Square Chair Goes Over There

Oh, the sweet, happy feel of NEW FURNITURE. Love it. I inherited two new pieces of furniture over the weekend. What a happy living room I now have. Out with the old leather couch (might I add it was mustard colored - blech) and in with the new, calm, comfy duds. I LOVE square chairs. I can curl up in every which direction, and be ALL that more comfortable while watching my Murder, She Wrote. The Zelem Moving Crew helped move - correction....helped HEAVE the new stuff up 3 flights on stairs. Bless them! After countless re-arrangements, I'm happy to have my new, cozy arrangement.

That's It!

The Cheese Stands Alone

Drum roll...I finally figured out the true name of my blog. Nothing earth shattering here - just a sense of THAT'S IT! I enjoyed "When You Wish Upon a Star", but it always felt just-so to me. Kind of a 'you need a blog name, so pick one, darn it' decision. Not anymore - THIS is a good fit. Be it my fierce adoration of CHEESE, or the fact that sometimes my pals seem to go make plans with others, leaving this cheese to ultimately stand alone, I now have a blog name I can stand behind.

(oh, and palin has nothing on biden - a couple of funny quips won't a vice-presidency make)

So Proud

My little Adam WALKED into my classroom today! That may not seem like a big deal to most people, but for Adam, born with cerebral palsy, it was HUGE! He's a third grader now, and has always used this big, cumbersome walker. Only this year has he started to use his crutches. As he arrived for music today, his aide told me he had a surprise - I waited for Mr. Adam to enter my room, and did - without wheels! That little boy walked into my room! The world has done everything to work against him, and there he was - overcoming so much just to walk into my room! I was crying too hard to go grab the camera, but heaven knows I will snap a picture before the week is over! I'm crying again now, just thinking of the memory! His classmates were so proud of him, encouraging him as he joined our group, cheering him along! THIS is why I'm a teacher! THIS is why I work with children! THIS is why I love Adam! He has a power to unite children that extends far beyond his physical abilities. Unbelievable!

(Note: many fun photos removed from original post...)

YES WE CAN!

Friends and Funnel Clouds

We were SUPPOSED to have a nice, outdoor staff picnic last Sunday, but NOOOOO. The heavens opened up after a mere 45 minutes outside, rain POURED down, forcing us to hang out in a stuffy, non-air-conditioned school. We thought we could just wait out the weather (welcome to Colorado), but then the sirens started to sound, and we had to move to the gym (you know, that safe, shelter area in a school!). Thank goodness I had inhaled a hot dog while still outside, as the food disappeared as soon as the rain made its appearance. Here is one of the many amazing pictures of the week. Three tornadoes actually touched down in and around Castle Rock. So much for our outdoor picnic!

Happy Family

What a wonderful week, what a wonderful family. GO OBAMA!

Stride Trainer 300

That's right, I am now the proud owner of a Gold's Gym Stride Trainer 300. Grandma Dot gave me some $$ for graduation, and this is how I wanted to make it sustainable! I swear, once I get an idea in my head, it's only a matter of hours until I figure how how to bring it to life! shopped around for a day, narrowed down the list of things I want, and bought myself an Elliptical. I don't like to run (even though I really REALLY tried last year to be a 'runner'), so a treadmill wasn't very helpful. I'm sure nobody is surprised that I like to MOVE, SWING - be ACTIVE when working out. The elliptical has met the test of time (Brenda time - I bore easily), and is now a part of my home!


Unfortunately, the poor guys that lugged it into the trunk of my car chose not to come home with me (slackers), so I unpacked the huge and heavy box, sitting inside my car! Took all the garbage to the dumpster, and piled all the smaller parts into a laundry basket to lug up the 3 flights of stairs. The heaviest part had to wait until I grabbed a neighbor (former student), who owed me for being so dang loud in the hallways the night before. :)

In a mere 160 minutes, I tightened, pounded, and twisted that baby together, and it now happily sits in my living room. Correction - it IS my living room... Okay, it's not THAT big, but it certainly takes up a bit'o'room. Happy Brenda, though - no more beating the other renters to the apartment gym, and no more monthly fees. Now, I can happily jump on my new friend during commercials (that sounds much worse than intended), and swing away the calories.

Speaking of...gotta go swing!

WOOHOO!

That about sums up the last week! While I could write a blog and a half about the process itself, the best part is this: I HAVE MY MASTER'S DEGREE. Past that, it's all details! Ma and Pa came from WI for the big event, as shown in a couple of the pictures below. The day itself (Thursday, August 7th) was great: the presentation went smoothly, the feedback was overwhelming, and the celebration yummy!

The first day my parents were in town (after I had literally missed 2 exits on the highway trying to get ourselves to a simple restaurant), gave me a GPS system (a Garmin Nüvi) for graduating. Perfect timing!

We visited a ton of spots south of Castle Rock throughout the week: Royal Gorge Bridge, Cheyenne Mountain Zoo, Garden of the Gods. Thankfully, My Nüvi really helped us figure out where to go!

Here's an awesome picture from between the wooden planks of the Royal Gorge Bridge! Sweet!

I really love zoos, but I had no idea how MUCH I loved Zoos until I visited this mountain zoo! And giraffes - did I mention giraffes!? I could have stayed there all week!

After my big ole Master's presentation (my CAP), we went to Buca di Beppo, an awesome Italian restaurant with a celebratory ambiance! There were pictures of Sinatra everywhere (the focus of my CAP), so it was a perfect end to an amazing journey!

WOOHOO!

PAUSE

I'm going to apologize right now, for I'm about to become the most boring Blog on the block. I am CHAINED to the computer right now, preparing for my final Masters Presentation. I will happily begin blogging again around 08.08.08, the day I am finally FREE! See you then! BG

National Lampoon's Sunday Morning

Good grief. I just wanted to go to church, enjoy the music of the new organist, and have a calm, peaceful morning.

I woke up cranky, knowing I had a ton of things to do, no new e-mail (strike 1 for the male species), and the sky was gray. (That's enough reason to be cranky, right?!) Anywho, headed to Starbucks for my Iced Green Tea Latte. The old guys at church usually tease me about my strange green drink. I've just told them that it's guacamole. That usually stops the teasing.

Bjørk, the new Starbucks goon, has no idea what this drink is, where to find it on the keypad, and refuses to ask the more seasoned employee behind him for help. Men. Strike 2 for the day. He rings me up with the wrong price, which I can't let go. He was going to charge me $1.80 for my $3.80 drink. While I wouldn't mind the extra change, I can't begin a Sunday morning by ripping off the local Starbucks, even if Bjørk can't figure things out. Good karma, right?

Off to church. Green drink in hand, I whip around the Round-about twice, narrowly avoiding the approaching cops. I'll consider that the instant karma payoff, as I wasn't seen or stopped by Mr. Police man.

The service was supposed to start at 8:00, but the promptness was delayed by the TWELVE minute prelude by the new organist. Now, while it was nice to actually hear the instrument being played happily for once, 12 minutes? Ladies and gentlemen, the ego has entered the sanctuary. ARGH. Strike 3.

I tried to pay attention today, but was really distracted. Why, you say?

• Gophers. Yes, gophers. They kept popping up in the field next to our church. Pop. Pop again. Hysterical.
• 18 fans. All running during the service. Not sure I heard more than 3 words.
• Retired pastor. 100 years old, maximum speaking speed: 10 mph.
• Sound system. Off, on, off, sort of on, crackle, off. Lovely.
• Nose ring. Mentioned in the Scriptures today. Again, hysterical. Genesis.
• Mumbler. What we were called by the 100 year old pastor. Perhaps it was all the fans.
  

COME ON. No one can be expected to focus under THESE circumstances. And please don't forget the gophers. Pop.

A Journey of Faith

A dear friend bravely shared her personal faith journey with me over the weekend, and below is a collection of faith thoughts that came to mind when responding to her. Apparently, amidst all the members of her congregation who have shared their faith journeys, not a single one has ever experienced doubt about their faith, and she is hesitant to share her personal thoughts.

When I read this, my first reaction was disappointment. I do not believe that people of faith never have doubts. I think that's impossible. Goodness, think of how many people in the Bible had doubts about their faith, and then watch how they grew through those moments of wonder.

I think back to when Mother Theresa's diary was published. Now, I don't think ANYONE'S diary should ever be published - the person who found that diary should have done her a service, and burned it. But rather, it was shared with the world, and I remember the 'outrage' when people discovered that she doubted her own faith. For me, the discovery and subsequent publishing of the diary did just the opposite. Knowing that a person like Mother Theresa had her doubts and reaffirmations about her faith only made her works, her deeds, and her words that much more powerful and meaningful to me. I admired and respected her ten times more knowing she had worked for her faith, and that it did not necessarily come easily to her. It made her all that more human to me.

It's that old adage of it's the JOURNEY, not the DESTINATION. Sounds cliché, but is rather relevant in this context. I don't mean to put down those who have shared their journey at her church, I just wonder how truthful and honest they have been with themselves not to share the whole story. Someone people can only share the happier, more complete parts of themselves with others. They leave out the holes, the struggles, the parts that portray them as anything but completely together. I believe that my friend will bring a unique perspective, as she's only been a part of her congregation for a short period of time. I think what's different for her members is that they've known each other for a long time. I know that sharing my story with my congregation back in WI would be a whole lot different than sharing it here in CO. My story wouldn't change, but I know the reaction to it would.

She mentioned that she didn't censor herself at all in her written faith journey. I think that censoring is a unique way to spin "I'm omitting details that are truthful, and important." That wouldn't be authentic, and it wouldn't change any of the facts. I think about how much more powerful her story will be to those who are listening if they, too have struggled. I know I would be comforted to hear of her struggles, her moments of weakness, only to still see her standing in front of me, still ok, still human. It's all the pieces that make the whole, and sometimes the pieces aren't always whole to begin with.

My heartfelt kudos to a brave soul who is only beginning her journey of faith. What an amazing example she is to us all!