the thursday thirty, issue four.

30 [or a maybe a smidge more!] blog posts i adore - with links, of course.

• top ten things to know as a woman pastor // anna meadows
• i like to think. // cindy beall
• nineteen easy ways to serve others // curtis honeycutt
• beautiful pain // brandi
• i can't get over my past. // lori boucher
• scandalous // anne jackson
• He held both. // alece van rensburg
• here, hold me. // kristi
• smackdown: tornadoes vs. earthquakes // natalie witcher
• insecurities and acheivements: what johnny cash taught me about identity // jeff goins
• filled // amy beth bullard
• protect that good thing. // amy beth bullard
• when i think of a portrait... // addison
• el-roi // addison
• elohim // addison
• God is not always likeable... // steven furtick
• hungry // steven furtick
• sunday night reflections // perry noble
• reflection // alece van rensburg
• sharing your passion // swerve
• living with me // stiletto army
• she's seeking sunrise. // the noreaster
• the differences i'm thankful for // swerve
• the new porn addicts // brad ruggles
• the strip church // brad ruggles
• tale of the pranked floor leader // rachel rowell
• they're not real. // mandy thompson
• we're not all that. // carlos whittaker
• how obama as president will leverage God's word. // jayma winters
• when i open my clenched fists // heidi cassadas
• why do we go through pain? + your prayers for widows & orphans // seth barnes
• worshipping giftedness // pete wilson
• cinnamon rolls // amy beth bullard
• simple truth // alece van rensburg

twenty.

it's true. as of yesterday, i am no longer a teen. :-D and i owe an extravagant and joyous birthday weekend to my dear friends here at obu - and my sweet mama who sent me a gorgeous bouquet of flowers. i cannot wait to snap a photo of it once all of the buds bloom!

well, in case you ever wanted to know what goes on during one's birthday in our circle of friends, here is the inside look.

a lively bunch at abuelita rosa's serenaded me friday evening. i could not contain me glee!

kelly and addison are perhaps two of the most precious people i know. after pigging out with jake and some new guy on the baseball team, we retired to watch an andy warhol bio that left us puzzled.

even the colonel decided to get in on the fun.

mmhmm.

last night capped off the elaborate weekend, as we cheered on our obu bison at the basketball game, then took over the local chili's with kelly, addi, moi, sebastien, anastasia, curtis, kyle, katie, and taylor d. [yes, i am aware you know none of these individuals, but listing them like that makes it look like i have an entourage.]

i am so blessed.

the thursday thirty, issue three.

30 recipes i'm dying to try! [with links, hip hip hooray.]

• veggie pizza appetizer
• asian salmon cakes with sesame-wasabi cream
• avocado chicken salad
• balsamic glazed butternut squash
• creamy chicken/turkey stew
• lemon basil chicken salad
• new potato & green bean salad
• pastitsio
• key lime cocounut cupcakes
• homemade egg rolls
• mahogany broiled chicken with smoky lime sweet potatoes & cilantro chimichurri
• homemade pizza (<- here's a ton of recipes just for starters!)
• peanutty somen noodles with shrimp
• toasted walnut pasta
• beet, onion, & orange salad
• garden pasta
• ham & spinach turnovers with cider-mustard dip
• pasta with spinich-hazlenut pesto
• penne-wise pumpkin pasta
• root vegetable chowder
• spicy sausage, chicken, & bean pot
• red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese icing
• turkey tacos with cranberry salsa
• vietnamese bistro burgers
• baked sweet potato fries

have you tried any of these? what are some recipes you're ready to give a whirl?

someday.

it is hard to believe how quickly a year can pass, how four seasons can complete their cycle in what seems like a flash. it has been a year since brady passed away, a precious little boy who words cannot do justice. my first love's baby cousin touched a multitude more than i can ever hope to touch, and on february 3rd - his sixth birthday - he was released from the pain and obstacles which had plagued him during his short time here. i attended his memorial service on my birthday last year, which i have often described as the most horrific and most precious day of my life. i dearly wish i could detail it much further than that, but his legacy really speaks the loudest. hundreds of friends, family members, nurses and doctors, even news anchors, were present to celebrate brady. the following night i posted this note, pleading for prayer for this wonderful family i came to love. tonight my plea is the same.
-
oh great God, be small enough to hear us now.
my heart has never ached so uncontrollably for another's anguish, and i'm astonished at how unaware i once was of what it means to mourn with those who mourn.
it isn't right to hear a mother and father wail for their child.
it isn't right for this beautiful, brave woman to acknowledge my birthday on the very day she's burying her youngest son.
yesterday was amazing, precious, and devestating.
i witnessed how one quiet but mighty soul touched thousands of individuals - something few of us will ever accomplish, but a feat brady conquered within six years.
i rejoiced for a boy who i only had the chance to be in the presence of for a handful of occasions, for a man among children who required only one brief encounter to make you fall in love with him.
i smiled at the thought of all the foods he is finally getting to taste, all of the songs and laughter he is finally getting to hear, all of the races he is finally getting to win.
and i continue to weep for the matchless family that had to give him up to Heaven.
they are all i see when i close my eyes at night. this heavy, horrible feeling consumes my chest when i even begin to think about it. i always thought there came a time when one was all cried out.
i now know that is only an awful myth.
i beg, i plead with you to pray for this group of people i love. if i could only ask you one thing for the rest of time, this would be it. pray for peace to be imparted tonight. pray for joy to show its face soon. pray for comfort to surround ripped and torn hearts. but i think this beautiful boy would also beg you to celebrate, celebrate all of the tiny things we so constantly fail to give a second glance. to celebrate the balloons and flowers he cherished in his tender hands, celebrate life and love itself.
the Father labored and toiled for six days to bless and cultivate everything that is around us, and rested when He saw His work was good.
brady labored and toiled for six years to the very day, blessing and cultivating everything that is around us. it was good. and he is finally resting.
someday all that's crazy, all that's unexplained will be beautiful, beautiful. someday all that's hazy through a clouded glass will be clear at last. and sometimes we're just waiting for someday. we're just waiting.
now we see things imperfectly as in a cloudy mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. all that i know now is partial and incomplete, but then i will know everything completely... // 1 corinthians 13:12

the thursday thirty, issue two.

my last 30 purchases, in no particular order:

• wild honeysuckle lotion @ bath & body works
• sweet pea shampoo & conditioner @ bath & body works [hey, there was a good sale.]
• scrumptious lunch @ katy's pantry
• gas, gas, and more gas
• a venti shaken iced tea with two splenda @ starbucks
• an iron
• an ironing board [i am so my mother's daughter.]
• textbooks [i sobbed when i bought these, believe me.]
• cookbooks [!!!]
• build-a-bear gift certificates for my sweet nieces
• a chalupa @ taco bell [eek!]
• make-up
• frosted mini wheats [yum!]
• milk
• a belt to hold these pants up, yo
• a cute basket to hold magazines for our suite bathroom
• kyle & katie's wedding gift [no one can have too many casserole dishes.]
• a bow to adorn said wedding gift
• postage for sebastien's book order [i love that boy.]
• a black ink cartridge
• red diamond tea [!!!]
• bread
• mad church disease by anne jackson [can't wait to read this.]
• a braum's burger [eek again!]
• a haircut
• nutri-grain bars
• stamps
• sushi from sum wo in edmond [yessss.]
• thai chicken pasta @ zio's [yessss again.]
• socks [who can have too many?]

any of these purchases look familiar? what would your list look like?

anger, plain and simple.

this will probably be the most difficult entry i've written thus far.
i cried, and sobbed, and sniffled my way through this ten minute segment of oprah last night. it was late, i had just gotten out of the shower, and was checking channel 5 one last time for school closing updates - and certainly wasn't expecting to watch an intervention. i wish i could find the actual video for you to watch. i wish you could see the raw emotion in these teenagers' words and cries. because i see so much of myself in their stories. from first grade through this morning, pieces of my struggle are echoed in theirs.
as a part of the obesity intervention being conducted with a group of teenagers and their parents, the kids were asked to come to the middle of the circle and complete this statement: "i'm angry that..." you cannot imagine what poured out of them from there. i wept for their sorrow, i wept for how liberated they must have felt as they let these things escape their lips for the first time. i wept for their parents who were stunned and heartbroken. "i'm angry that i had to ask someone to prom." "i'm angry that my mom is my best friend, my only best friend." "i'm angry that my dad left on my birthday." "i'm angry that when i see pictures of myself i just want to rip them up." "i'm angry that i'd rather be dead than overweight."
i crawled in bed after having seen enough, and couldn't doze off until i rolled through my own mini mental list. please don't misunderstand me: i know as one who is free in Christ that anger should not rule my heart, and i assure you it no longer does. but i'm still scarred by instances in the past, and i absolutely feel that a stage of anger is necessary to heal and move forward. in order to know me authentically, you must understand where i have been. if you're ready for that, then the following list may give you a glimpse. and who knows, it may even free you up to vocalize your own. :] 'cause believe me, it feels good.
-
i'm angry that there are no pictures of me smiling during my middle school years. i'm angry that there are barely any pictures of me from then at all. i'm angry that my mom had to cut out the tags of my t-shirts to stop the girls at school from reaching in to proclaim my size to everyone. i'm angry that i had to ask someone to prom too. i'm angry that when my co-workers begin talking about looks and what it means to be attractive, that i shrink in my chair and shut my mouth for fear they're all thinking the same thing: taylor wouldn't know anything about that. i'm angry that i fear my husband will take one look at me on our wedding night and change his mind. i'm angry that i constantly fear i'll never even get married at all. i'm angry that i gave in because i thought that was the best it would ever be for me. i'm angry that i loathe shopping for clothes because nothing ever looks good in the dressing room mirror. i'm angry that i lost thirty-five pounds my senior year of high school but still haven't met my goal weight. i'm angry that i have the tools and knowledge to change that, and yet i don't. i'm angry that i allowed comments and torments from kids at school to influence my opinion of myself. i'm angry that i never feel full. i'm angry that i gave up basketball because of the things people said to me during practice. i'm angry that my gorgeous senior photos were taken before my weight loss - making them not so gorgeous to me sometimes. i'm angry that i assumed being thin meant being happy. i'm angry that i feel out of place in most of my classes. i'm angry that i rarely left my house on friday nights. i'm angry that the people who were so mean to me in school would pretend to be my friends when they wanted something. i'm angry that i let them. i'm angry that i make jokes about my weight for fear i might not beat someone else to it. i'm angry that i rely on others for affirmation. i'm angry that i wasn't a star athlete like the rest of my family. i'm angry that the only think i'm good at is making great grades. i'm angry that even today, kids i serve at church tell me i'm fat. i'm angry that i've wasted so much time thinking about my weight.

thanks for the slice.

i love pie. boy, do i love pie. a nice, piping hot slice of any kind of fruit and crust with ice cream on top just can't be beat. but humble pie? eh, not so much. i'm definitely not as apt to order that off any cracker barrel menu.

back in november, amy beth at ministrysofabulous.com shared an entry on this very theme here - and let me tell ya, could i relate to it. now, a little over two months later, i feel compelled and prepared to share my own humility diddy - complete with a photo. your dream has come true! i walked in my first race for the cure last october with my sweet family and the many great gals that work with my sister at oklahoma breast care center. it was a gorgeous day full of courage, wisdom, and laughter. as we gathered to snap our team photo, i thought to myself, "shoot, i'm lookin' good for being here at the ballpark by 5 am. we're gonna have a smokin' team picture." mmhmm. that's right. and everyone did indeed take a fabulous snapshot before we began our mile or 5k trek. but there was a little surprise i didn't at all notice until my sister emailed the picture out to our team several weeks later: my barn door was wiiide open, there on the front row. yep. that's meeee.

thanks for the slice, Lord. :]

tell me about a recent embarassing or otherwise humbling experience. don't worry, no pictures required!