Many of you have asked about the bumper sticker on my car.

Not the one that says Republicans for Voldemort, but the more mysterious one that says Andrew Peterson Is My Friend. I have explained that he is a singer/songwriter who writes songs that make me cry (which is saying something), or that he reminds me that there is hope in the midst of pain and melancholy, or that he is an artist whose work reflects that of his Creator in such a way as to bring the rest of us closer to Him. But what it really comes down to is that Andrew Peterson is someone with whom I know I would be friends. Read this to understand why.

Look here to see some more of our Princess Louisa Inlet pictures.

Both Justin and I were Young Life kids. He went to Malibu as a camper and on work crew. He drove the boat for a whole summer at Beyond Malibu, the summer after we met. (I sent him a package. He doesn’t remember this. Obviously he made more of an impression on me than I did on him. It was a good package containing candy and a toothbrush. But I digress…) I went on a Beyond Malibu trip the summer after high school that, to this day, is one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life.

I know that God is not confined to a place. I have struggled over the years with the idea that God only exists at camp, or at church, or in some separate place that contains Him, keeping Him absent from the mundane, day-to-day existence. I remind myself that God is present at all times in all places and that I do not need to escape in order to find Him. But it is also true that God reveals specific parts of Himself when we do escape (or maybe we are just more able to see them) and there is something about the Princess Louisa Inlet in British Columbia that reminds me to think of God, just like Andrew Peterson’s writing.

So you know how I said things were good?  Well, they were.  And for some reason that I honestly can’t figure out, those things are no longer good, or fine, or even ok. 

I am grumpy, snippy, tired and unmotivated.  None of my expectations are being met (I don’t care if they are unrealistic they should still be met dammit!).  I have forgotten where I find my peace and worth and I have started relying on circumstances and flawed people to provide those things that can only come from God.  I feel depressed.

In the midst of it though there are other voices, tiny little whispers in the back of my head that speak the words of truth.  They speak and even when I choose not to listen to them they are still there.  So for my own good, and maybe for yours, here are some of the things they are saying:

-”Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak.  We are half-hearted creatures, fooling around with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like and ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea.  We are far too easily pleased.” ~C.S. Lewis

-”One of the myths about depression is that we have no control over our mental or emotional state.” ~Mike Gunn (in a sermon on depression last Sunday, it’s funny how the timing works sometimes)

-”For even though they knew God, they did not honor Him as God or give thanks, but they became futile in their speculations, and their foolish heart was darkened.  Professing to be wise, they became fools, and exchanged the glory of the incorruptible God for an image in the form of corruptible man and of birds and four-footed animals and crawling creatures. Therefore, God gave them over in the lusts of their hearts to impurity, so that their bodies would be dishonored among them.  For they exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever. Amen.” ~Romans 1:21-25 (thanks Alecia)

And so there is it.  For the first time it really hit me that I have a choice.  That, in choosing to wallow and hide in my depression, I am choosing to exchange truth for a lie.  I am choosing to worship my own emotions and thoughts over those of God. I choose the things that will numb the pain and give me even five minutes of so-called happiness over the peace that God promises to those who trust His plan and His timing.  I am far too easily pleased.

And so I am pushing through.  I am getting up and dressed.  I am leaving the house. I am listening to truth and holding it in my heart so that it will pop up when I need it. I don’t feel great, but I feel like I am still in control - or maybe that God is.

But it’s so shiny and pretty and bright!

I love my new camera! (and my photogenic nieces)

The weather this week has been beautiful, until today. But it’s alright. We had a fun time playing outside yesterday (until the nice garbage man honked his horn and Andrew had a 35 minute meltdown) and we are having a fun time playing inside today.

A few years ago I was talking to Justin about how he stays off the emotional roller coaster. He said something to the effect of, “it’s not that I stay off the roller coaster it’s that I am still in control when the roller coaster goes up and down. I can choose to ride or to stop.” This did not make sense to me then (and it still doesn’t), but that same message seems to be popping up everywhere I go.

Sermons that I listen to say “live your life well, not because you have to but because you get to.” And I think, well, that sounds reasonable. As though maybe I were a part of something bigger and that it life is a privilege to participate in, rather than another chore that must be crossed off the To Do list.

Another conversation revolves around the balance between what God does as His work in our lives and what we do, trusting that God is working even when we can’t see Him. That maybe He sees the whole picture and I only see a part. That maybe the reason He seems absent so much of the time is because I am working so hard trying to save myself that there is no room for Him.

That is where the roller coaster analogy comes in for me. Not as a rigid, law-abiding, pull myself up by my bootstraps sort of thing, but as me taking control of some of the things in my life in an attempt to give God room to do His work, trusting that His work is good.

Look here to see all of our shed moving pictures.

One of the thorns in my side since buying this house has been the fact that some crazy person put this amazingly large, well-built shed in the freaking middle of the yard. Why?! No good can come of a shed in the middle of the yard. Last summer I proposed moving the shed in to a sensible location like the back corner of the yard. Justin gave me a dubious look but promised that he would think about it.

This weekend my dreams were realized (well, my dreams regarding the shed at least, the rest of them are still waiting). A glorious combination of the largest come-along anyone had ever seen and slave labor provided by some good friends made quick work of the project (and added a sizable amount of useable space to my yard). Coming soon to a backyard near you…a swingset. Huzzah!

Best quote I have heard in a while:

“This country is run by extremists because moderates have shit to do.”

Oh.  Wow!  This is awkward…ummmm, damn, I really didn’t want you to find out this way…I promise, it’s not you - it’s me.

Crap, well, here it goes - yes, I have been cheating on you.  With MySpace.  I tried to stop myself, but the voyeuristic possibilities are just too good to refuse.  It’s like a high school reunion without having to talk to anyone.  I knew I should have stopped after the first time, but now I am addicted.

Can we try to work this out if I promise to write more often? 

A friend who reads this site sent me an email that said, “You haven’t posted for a while.  How are you?”  I felt it was a valid question so here goes. 

I’m doing okay. 

(What?!  That’s it.  This is crap.  Why do I even read this site.  Why am I friends with her? This is a waste of my alcohol diminished brain cells.) If you don’t already know who Jim Gaffigan is, check him out and then come back and it will make a lot more sense.

But really,  I am. I am okay.  It is kind of a weird feeling to be honest.  I am not madly, ecstatically, insanely happy, nor am I hopelessly, helplessly moody or depressed.  I. Am. Okay.  I was evaluating this new state of calmness yesterday and I wondered if it was okay to feel okay.  Does this mean that I don’t care about the people or things around me?  Is this the first step toward complete isolation and withdrawal? Shouldn’t I strive to muster up some overpowering emotional response so that my voice can be heard and that everyone will know that I am here and important? 

Nope.  I don’t think so.  I am just going to be okay.  Things are going to be okay. The days will keep moving and that is - fine.  (A girl can still have a little variety in her choice of mundane descriptive words, right?)