Osama Been

The recent event involving the death of Osama Bin Laden has had me thinking.

Let me preface a little: I've been thinking a LOT about charity lately and what that type of Christlike love really entails. How it applies to me in my life, how I should be treating others and feeling about others, how God feels about me and everyone around me and what that all means, etc.

I have to say that my resonating feeling on the matter is one of sorrow. Not a hopeless sorrow, because I believe that Heavenly Father rewards and protects and has plans of His own that none of us can even begin to imagine, but sorrow in the fallen expectations I've held in mankind. Those aren't the exact words I mean, but maybe I can explain a little better. After my initial shock on hearing about Osama's death, my second reaction was sorrow. My heart went out to all those familes that lost loved ones in the 9/11 attacks. To all the soldiers and soldiers' families that have given up their time here in the homeland to be abroad and help fight against the terror that has enveloped our world. My heart was full. But it seemed that many others felt differently.

I was saddened to quickly see the boisterous hatred of my fellow countrymen toward this man. Fellow Christians even, who are loud and almost giddy in their contempt and make no attempts to filter their bitter, often crass, opinions. I understand that what Osama Bin Laden condoned and led were greivous and highly inhumane. I understand that our world is still under heavy attack from similar bands of people with similar ideas. What I don't understand is why we don't leave it up to God to decide how to sentence this man? It's out of our hands now anyway. Why continue to abuse and rejoice in slandering? Lest anyone think I am defending Osama, or even sympathizing with him, please understand I am in no way intending to.

Perhaps my feelings on the matter are naive. Maybe we are perfectly justified in glorifying over the end of a man. But I don't feel confident in myself to make that judgement. For me, it is easier to love. I feel that our time and energy would be better spent on remembering those fallen Americans. To take a moment to let the reality of the world we live in sink in for a moment. Allow ourselves to spirutually leave ourseleves for a moment and travel to those lands that aren't as priveleged as we are and pray for them. Hope that things might become better for them soon. our time would be better spent, I feel, in thanking our dear Father in Heaven for the many, many blessings we have pouring into our lives each day.

I am a selfish person. I don't believe I am that way naturally, but I feel that I have let myself, through lazy habits become so. I know that I am of God and that I am at my core good. This experience has helped me see how destructive that selfish tendency can become and has helped me resolve to be better, and truer to that nature in me.

I know God is a loving God. On an incomprehensible level. I trust that whatever judgement may come to Osama Bin Laden and his sins will be just and true and done according to that love. That is just how it should be. Osama has been and now is completly in God's hands. I am glad that I do not have to make those decisions. Decisions that are so everlastingly heavy and complex. I find joy in the simplicity of love. I find relief in not having to feel badly toward this man any longer.

I know that there are bad things and bad people in this world. But when I think of them I don't feel hatred. I feel sorrow that they have sacrificed the most wonderful blessings that come from being good because of their selfishness and that they have mercilessly hurt innocents in their wake.

My thoughts are trailing now and leading into more abstract planes away from my focus of this post, I just wanted to clear my mind of these jumbled thoughts and explore how I'm feeling on this matter. I pray God will forgive me of my sins and help us all to find focus in our lives.

Friendship is Unnecessary

Sunday night I got a phone call from a good friend. A friend I've known for almost a decade. Despite our distance in logistics, and the fact that we only talk about every other month (at best) for an hour or two at a time, I consider him one of my absolute best friends.

As we were talking, I had an overwhelming sense of gratitude. It was such a refreshing conversation, it all felt so natural. What's more wonderful than the ease in which we fell into discussion was the undeniable connection I felt to him. I realized, from our conversation, that there are very few people in this world that I have a true soul-to-soul connection with and I am so grateful for those few souls.

One of my favorite quotes is from Robert E. Lee and says, "Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person; having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but to pour them all out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, knowing that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then, with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away." I particularly like this quote because I've always struggled with opening up and showing my true colors to any and all who meet me. When I do it usually comes out in a muddle, imperfect and somewhat discombobulated, not expressed as purely as I feel it. Its something I've long wished to conquer but unfortunately have done little to actively overcome. The handful of people throughout my life that have somehow found a way to break through are some of my most cherished treasures. I attribute it mostly to their pure sense of self and large hearts.

I'm so lucky to have them, though few, in my life. They are the ones I can be just as confidant as ever around even if its been years since we last saw each other or spoke. Its hard to describe the ease and comfort I feel around them, its something I rarely have with most people. I often feel guarded and unsure about what is expected or how to act and since that is more often than not the case I appreciate these soul mates all the more.

It is amazing to love and be loved completely.

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"Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather is one of those things that give value to survival." - C.S. Lewis

Falling Hard

I adore Autumn.

Absolutely love it.

Please, please, PLEASE Utah let us have a decent fall this year. One lasting longer than the length of a sneeze would be ideal.

Cross your fingers for me.

Bradford Strikes Again!

Bradford came to my work today for a brief moment. Brought me these:

He completely ruined my day. I mean, I was all armed and ready to hate the world today. I even had the perfect glower set. Then he had to traipse in here, all gallant like, and ruin it all.

Dang.

How can I be mad now with these things staring at me?

Thanks Mr. Bradford.

"Hi. It's Me."

I called up an old friend the other day. And I mean old. This person has known me forever. They know everything I've ever done, everything I've ever said, everything I've ever felt or thought or pretended not to feel or think... Everything.

As we were talking I wondered why I had let so much time pass since I had last checked in. Admittedly, I kind of thought that since it had been so long and so much had happened it might be a little awkward at first to get conversation going. Heaven knows I'm awful at conversations, especially on the phone. But she knows all that.

I was relieved to find that the conversation was easy. Of course it was. Isn't it always? Don't I always feel comfortable talking to her? Isn't she always the best listener, the best advisor? I instantly felt that long, worn, intangible thread that was tying our existences together, tighten and pump life-giving energy into my psyche.

One of the things I like most about her is her ability to be perfectly honest and clear with me. No minced words. No cushioned cirticisms. She says it like it is. But never once has she offended me. Sometimes I don't ask her things because I'm afraid of what she'll say. Not because I think it will be hurtful or anything. It's because I know she'll be right, and maybe the answer isn't something I'm ready to act on yet.

She's also wonderful at appreciating me and telling me the good things about me without making me feel weird. I never know what to say when someone says something nice to/about me. She's always been so good at that. I still am not quite sure how she does it. She also seems to value my in-put and my spin on things. It's nice feeling like I mean as much to her as she does to me.

My biggest goal in life is to be like her. Honestly, everything about her I admire. She's patient, kind, funny, intelligent, humble, adventurous, brave, diligent, genuine. But mostly I admire her because she reminds me more of God than any one I've ever known.

The best part is, she's only a few words away. I should remember that more.

I Love Lucy

I love Lucy.

Or... I love I Love Lucy.

Either way you say it, it's true.

I am a bit of an insomniac. Especially on Sunday nights for some reason. Maybe it has something to do with the dread and anxiety of another Monday unavoidably dawning, but Sunday nights are brutal. That's where Lucy comes in.

On those nights, when no matter how sleepy I am I cannot for the life of me fall/stay asleep, I turn on some Lucy (thanks to Bradford's nifty media server that houses an abundance of movies, tv shows, and music).

Lucy keeps me company and lulls me to sleep when I would otherwise be staring at the ceiling for hours on end painstakingly listening to the clock tick.

I guess if I am having a hard time falling asleep I could always read my old Biology textbook too. I swear that thing had sleeping powder in between the pages because without fail I would fall asleep just about any time I opened the dang thing to read it.

I like science. However, Lucy soothes me just a little bit better than the dynamics of a cell's structure.

So thank you Lucy and Ricky for your marital woes, your sometimes all too predictable plots, and your inevitable reconciliations with the Mertz's. You are the best thing about my insomnia.

Bye Bye

I am not ashamed to admit I have a blankie.

I am sad to inform you that I have now decided to bid farewell to said blankie.

I think he has had one too many stitch-ups and it is time to finally go.

Bye Blankie. You’ve served me well. You’ve protected me from spooky monsters in the closet. You made the best princess skirt ever with the help of a few safety pins and dad’s belt. You dutifully caught many tears shed from an emotional Julie on more than a few occasions. And you kept me warm and safe when all I needed was a good night’s sleep or a Sunday afternoon nap.

I’ll miss you Blankie, but I’ll keep part of you to remember you by.

Thanks for the snuggles.

He's Done it Again

That boy, he's gone and done it again! I came in to work today and what should I find waiting for me on my desk? A beautiful bouquet of roses, that's what.

Bradford is so sweet. I don't care what people say about flowers being a waste of money, yaddy yaddy yadda... I think they are wonderful and they make me blissfully happy. Especially when they smell so delicious.

I am kinda a dummy though. Once I got to work and bubbled over my gift for a little bit, I looked online to find the snowboarding helmet Bradford told me to look at so I could order it, and I called him to ask him a question about it and I didn't even say a single word about the flowers!!! I felt like a jerk. I then proceeded to text him and tell him I was sorry for being so daft and that I loved him and his beautiful flowers (Thanks again Bradford! You're a gem).

Anyway, everyone should have a bouquet of fresh flowers by their desk. Especially from a loved one. You just can't have a bad day with them sitting next to you.


*And here's a picture of my helmet. Its lovely too.




And still stay tuned for Savannah/Charleston stuff. I know you all are just DYING to know all about it ;)

You are Loved

Yesterday I had the precious opportunity to hold a 3 day old baby boy. It wasn't just a beautiful experience because he was so soft and warm and smelled the sweet way only a newborn baby can, it was also beautiful because I found it touched my soul. Here is this pint sized human being who is the most innocent and pure person out of anyone I've been in contact with for a long time and I couldn't help but love him. Not only did I feel overwhelmed with love for him, but I felt very loved myself. Not necessarily by my little friend, but by someone who saw me and my worth in the way that I saw the baby in that moment. I couldn't help but get teary, and I tried to stifle my sniffles as best I could in fear that his mother would think I had a cold or something and retrieve her darling son from my euphoric moment. Luckily, I was able to disguise it and I had the most wonderful few minutes sitting with him.

I Have Been Blessed

Today started out ok. I didn't get up early like I had planned and instead I rose out of bed at 7:00 from a very shallow and restless night's sleep. I did not feel refreshed at all but I scuffled to the bathroom, forcing my eyes open against the glaring lights and commenced the beautifying process. My hair was ok, my make up looked fine, I scrounged something out of my closet to wear that wasn't fabulous, but work appropriate and comfortable at least.

At work I set up for the day, had everything ready for the arriving patients, and waited for the day to begin. Its a Tuesday and Tuesdays are a lot less hectic than most so I started to write a card to my Grandpa and Grandma out in California who were angels and gave me a much needed loan for Dental Assisting School about a year and a half ago. Not long after I finished the note the first patient of the day arrived. I don't know why but I was in statue mode. Unfeeling, uncaring, and yes, maybe slightly curt. I had no reason to be, except I was tired and apparently didn't try at all to break myself out of that grumbly mood. The next few patients arrived and checked in and I went through the motions with barely more than a semi-friendly greeting and only addressing the necessary.

That's when Mr. Dobson came in. Mr. Dobson is a 75 yr.-old new patient and needed to have his insurance cards scanned, a packet of paperwork filled out, and apparently slowly repeated instructions. For some reason, especially in the mood that I was in, I expected to be irritated by this gentleman's requirement of patience. Instead I felt the exact opposite toward him, much to my astonishment. My spirits glowed faintly brighter when he stepped up to my desk. Mr. Dobson does not write well. It took him a full 3 minutes to sign his name and date on the sign in sheet and he mistook his friend's business card for his insurance card, and he very seriously told me that he wasn't able to write when I handed him the paperwork. He asked if I could fill it out for him and I surprised myself by saying, "Yes, of course I can do that for you," before I even had a chance to think about how inconvenient it was for my schedule... (it was a very self centered start this morning...). I grabbed my favorite pen and the clipboard of paperwork and then Mr. Dobson and I sat on one of the couches in the waiting room and I read him the paperwork as he gave me the appropriate information I needed to fill in. Throughout the course of the venture I learned that Mr. Dobson is a widower from Washington who, at the age of five, had an iron accidentally dropped on his face, smashing the bones across his nose and sinuses. Unfortunately, at that time, there wasn't the resources to surgically correct his injury and he was left to the mercy of mother nature to heal on his own. What they didn't know, what no one could really have known, was that due to that injury 70 years ago, Mr. Dobson was to suffer a myriad of health issues, from skin cancer, a kidney transplant, heart problems, a foot long and very protruding hernia, to severe sinus infections and fevers, all stemmed from that one incident as a child, believe it or not.

I don't remember exactly how it happened but somehow I mentioned that he had a good life despite it all. He very assuredly agreed with me and affirmed that he indeed had a very fulfilling life and a wonderful family, and with tears in his eyes he said that he was glad for the life he's had and grateful for the things he's been able to expereince. He said that now, he's ready to go home though, and he's just waiting for when the Lord is ready for him. It wasn't sad though. It was such a peaceful statement. He's lived and he's ready now to go home. With no hesitations. What a wonderful way to "end" life!

Mr. Dobson touched my heart today in a way that I don't think I'll ever forget. After we'd finished his paperwork and chatted for a little while longer I decided I needed to pull myself from this wonderful man's presence, stop any tears that were welling, and come back to my responsibilities. As I walked to my desk I noticed my step was lighter. When the next patient checked in I was warm and congenial. When I answered the phone I had a smile in my voice. Little common annoyances that have always been in the workplace were evaporated. This sweet, unfortunate man, was my angel today. He cured me out of my selfish mood. He resolved me to a better outlook.

Since then I have noticed the blessings more acutely in my life, even the ones in just today. I recieved a raise at work, as well as an unexpected bonus just for a job well done. A man came and brought me handfuls of goodies because, "receptionists just don't get appreciated enough." My wonderful, amazing boyfriend has made me feel so loved and cherished. I am healthy and strong without any physical defects to speak of. I have a great job in just about every aspect of it. I have a wonderful family and friends that have loved me despite everything I may or may not have done. I am blessed. Anything I have to complain about is a factor of my own making or my own selfishness. I need to always remember dear Mr. Dobson and the lesson and feelings he has brought to me.

Thank you Mr. Dobson and I wish you a smooth transition back to your sweetheart.

Chaff and Grain

I love being loved. Really loved, in that unique way that only a few seem to be capable of. Knowing that there is someone in the world that truly loves and enjoys me with all my ins and outs and ups and downs, I can't imagine anything more satisfying. Its like, an external part of me. A part that is me but isn't at the same time. Its incredible having someone that can get into my brain and mull around in it with me. Yet we're still seperate entities. With seperate emotions and reactions and thinkings. I love it . Everything about it. Now... the only thing that's missing is the hardware. Oh you know I'm teasing... kind of.