Holy and Dearly Loved

I love blogs. I have a blog reader on my phone where I connect to fitness blogs, religious blogs, blogs of friends... I think it's because I love people. Blogs are basically today's journal, but for the world to see.

My first blog to which I devoted my time was Beth Moore's Blog. This year, I accepted the Siesta Memory Verse Team challenge where you memorize scripture every 1st and 15th of the month. I did it in 2011 and made it to March. This year, I have been much more diligent with the Holy Spirit revealing Himself to me so much through the scriptures.

This weekend, we were out of town at a beautiful wedding for our friend, Jill and I was a little late getting my verse posted. Tonight, as I posted it, I was rushed back to my wedding day as one of my favorite, strongest, sisters in Christ read this scripture at our wedding ceremony. Lee and I chose the scripture to be our reading, but it wasn't until today, as I reheard Rhonda reading this scripture in my head, that I was so blessed to not only have her READ the scripture, but live it out. Rhonda and her husband and children are serving as full-time missionaries in Bolivia. Anyone who knows Rhonda, knows that she embodies this scripture. And as I have the privilege of working with them from the US, I am continually influenced by her spirit, her willingness to serve, to raise her children knowing The Lord, her love for people (both at home and in South America), her service to God's Kingdom, and her ministry. I am so grateful for our friendship and her mentorship to me- not only as a pastor's wife, but as a daughter of Christ. I love you, Rhonda!

"Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience." -Colossians 3:12

The Pain of a Calling

Yesterday morning, I woke up a little after 7:00, rolled over to turn on the Today Show, grabbed a cup of coffee (we had just started brewing a new bag of my favorite coffee: Seattle's Best!), and grabbed my phone to continue my daily embarkation into the world of social media. My newsfeeds were peppered full of mothers' lamentations about where time had gone and cute kids with new clothes, new backpacks, and not a complaining eye about heading back to the world of education. (Disclaimer: there were no pictures of high schoolers. They will still complain. Trust me.) My home county started back this week, but my current county doesn't start back until next week. Hence my slight giggle as I saw other counties going to school and I was just going to refill my mug. ;)

Flashback several weeks ago when I saw my summer vacation slipping away from me. I began to feel sad about the constant feeling of stress that comes with being a full-time working mom. About barely seeing my pastor-coach-husband as soccer season begins to eat his time and his thoughts. And about the early mornings. At which point, I started my yearly financial analysis where I started to scrutinize our spending to find spots where we can make cuts to justify me quitting my job to stay home full time with Nina. 

(I feel that she would not be happy about this since she has told me several times in the last few weeks that she missed Mrs. Heather. I asked if I was boring. She never replied. She didn't have to.)

However, a funny thing happened to me this summer (not funny "haha", but funny "yay God!"), I was given a different perspective on our family's life of ministry. In the past, I always thought that I was a teacher and Lee was a youth pastor. (I have joked that one of us should have married for money...) After seven years of marriage, I started to look at things differently: I wasn't a teacher, but a minister to students in the school (who also makes them learn a ridiculous amount of vocabulary and conjugate verbs in 14 forms. Grin.) I looked back at when I decided to be a teacher and realized that it wasn't a choice made for the high pay, immense respect from society, and the short work hours (insert sarcasm where necessary). I chose to be a teacher because it is what The Lord called me to do. Nina asked me, "Momma, what is your job?" I told her, "I'm your momma and a teacher." "Why?" (A question I hear quite often these days) "Because it's what God asked me to do and I said 'yes'". The same week, at Sunday School, one of my adopted sons, Jesse, said "I don't think you should ask God to change your situation, but change your perspective." And that week, my perspective changed to tell me that my situation shouldn't. 

When Lee and I were first engaged, I heard him preach a sermon about how, as Christians, we are all called to full-time ministry. Maybe not in a church in the "traditional" setting of ministry. Maybe not preaching sermons or wearing suits. But maybe in a classroom, an office, a hospital, at home, or wherever God has called you. 

As much as I can't change my spiritual gifts, my talents, or my calling, I can definitely change my perspective. And I'm grateful to start a new venture into my calling soon. Sometimes "taking up your cross" can come in all forms. I'm ready. 

Summa, Summa, Summatime...

Every year, in May, I start to fantasize about the summer months. As a teacher-mom, summers are my survival mode. I begin to comprise a fantasy about cleaning out the garage, getting rested up, days on the lake, books to read, and most importantly: tons of quality time with my sweet girl. However, I am married to a wonderful youth pastor who is also a soccer coach. Essentially, all things family-wise must be completed by the last week of July because the first week of August means that my life is occupied by finding the rogue sock in the car that is making it smell like a dead rat. And rotten milk. And wet dog. You get the picture.

My first week off of school was a lot of catch-up around the house and getting ready for the beach. (What a great way to start the summer!) The beach was awesome with my parents, brother and Nannie. We headed to the "West Virginia Beach" of Myrtle. Nina was big enough this year to enjoy all aspects of the beach, but her favorite was definitely the pool. We stayed at the same hotel when she was 11 months old and I was overcome with how much she had grown since we were there last!

For several years now, I have been struggling with horrible sinus infections (mostly continuous). After enduring allergy shots for over a year, with little improvement, my doctor ordered a CT scan which revealed that my sinuses were basically swollen shut. While at the beach, the doctor called and scheduled my surgery for two days after we returned from the beach. It was a surgery I was deeply dreading (both physically and financially), but was so excited to not feel sick all of the time. Surgery went well and ended in an unexpected repair of my septum. It was a 3 week recovery and those of you who know me, know that it was a horrible 3 weeks for Lee, too. (Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep me still?!)

Speaking of, four days after surgery, we were scheduled to be at the church camp that we all love so dearly for two weeks (1 week for the week that Lee is the director and 1 week for the week my dad is the director). Recovery at Cowen wasn't an easy task, but a task I was ready to take on. Grandparents kept Nina for a few days since I wasn't allowed to lift more than 10 pounds. Many naps and lots of pain meds later, Nina was able to come to camp (Definitely not her first time, but the first time she was cognoscente as to what was going on). She has fallen in love with a place so so near and dear to our hearts (The place where we met, got engaged, and lived for the first year of our marriage).

  Two weeks was awesome, but so so exhausting. (Did I mention I had surgery four days before going?!) A few days of rest, laundry, and pretending to be a normal family in the summer (What is normal?!) Lee headed off to Cedar Point with the youth kids and I soaked up a few last days with my Beanie before heading to Alaska for an extra special wedding (Alaska has its own post: coming soon). Until this point, I had never been apart from her for longer than 3 nights and that was due to surgery. Alaska would be for five nights. I felt similar to the way I felt when I went back to work after maternity leave. However, with Nina going through the "only my mommy can do anything" stage, I knew it would be good for her, her daddy, and darn-it, momma needed a break! We both did great and were so excited to be back together (Reunited and it feels so good...)

So, after hardly being home all summer, luckily, soccer season has forced us to finally be home and pretend to be a normal family (Did anyone ever define "normal" for me?!)

I'm sure in the next few weeks, Lee and I will say what we ALWAYS say in August "Next year, we won't schedule our summer so full." But sans surgery, it has been a pretty great few months!

Planes, planes, and deep thoughts

As a child, we had family friends that were as close as family. We ate dinner together at LEAST every Sunday, did beach trips, trips to the circuses, countless overnights, games of spotlight, dangerous home displays of fireworks... Best friends. And there were like 30 of them.

In this family, was a girl that was almost exactly 9 months younger than I am, Ashley. When we're talking best friends, y'all, we had the sparkly hair ties, friendship bracelets, the half-heart best friends necklace from Claire's, countless trips together, convincing fantasies of marrying a New Kid on the Block (luckily, I always wanted to marry Joe and she wanted to marry Jordan. It was more simple that way.)

At my seventh birthday party, I decided I wanted to do "Dress Like Your Mother" birthday party. This was in the middle of the dance aerobics phase, and my momma loved her some Jane Fonda. I came adorned in my leotard and leg warmers (why did they need leg warmers anyway?! I sweat like a hog during a dance party. I'm sorry "aerobics")

(Do hogs sweat??)

Ashley came in an adorable purple dress with yellow trim and had a huge bed pillow strapped on to her stomach, because at this point, her momma was about 52 weeks pregnant. While we were having cake, Ashley's Granny came through our front door and said, "Ashley, let's go! Your mom is having the baby!" A beautiful girl, Kristen Bryce was born. 

I'll save you many stories of dirty diapers, obsessions with Barney and the movie Prancer (or "Pwancer" as Kris called it) and stories of the baby sister I never had, but for the next few days, I will tell you about where we are today. 

This morning at o' dark thirty, Lee and I hopped in the car, in a monsoon of a rainstorm on (in by best Paul Revere voice) "The Boy Scouts are leaving" day to take me to the airport. After a few hops of flights an layovers, mom, dad, and I are currently soaring over the Alaskan mountains to go to Kristen's wedding. 

Kristen is a graduate student in AK and my dad will be the officiant for the ceremony. 

Today's flyings have been relatively uneventful (the way I like it) including, but not limited to:

- Some car time with my hubby who got back from an amusement park trip worn the youth at midnight last night. 

- A Tudor's Peppi biscuit. (Don't listen to Dewayne Chapman, They're amazing. 

- Absolutely nothing fun happening in Detroit

- An incredible lunch at a French bakery that had a side greens salad (VEGETABLES?! In an airport?!?!) and a curry chicken salad on a croissant 

And I would be lying if I didn't admit my purchase of a chocolate croissant (imagine my beautiful French accent)

The flight from Minneapolis to Anchorage has been long but not miserable. 

(Forgive my face squish resulting in 30 chins)

I have occupied myself by alternating between 3 awesome reads:

- The Boston Marathon edition of Runner's World 

My mind is completely blown by this issue and completely inspired. I think it is time I schedule a few road races!

- Cutting the Sweet with the Salty by Sophie Hudson. Such a hilarious book about growing up in the Deep South. A must read in my opinion (it's on Kindle. So, if you see a picture of the book, it is because I remembered to take one once I got back to phone service)

- No Other Gods by Kelly Minter. I'm only 30 pages in, but Kelly's insight, interpretation of scripture, and communication is preparing my heart for some awesome God time in the next bit of time in my life. So excited. 

Here are a few pics of us coming into Alaska!

More to come!!

(Whisper a prayer for me. This is the longest I've been away from Nina and I continue to ugly face cry over missing her already)

A Run to Remember

In 2009, our church took a group of women to Gasaway Baptist Church for a Beth Moore simulcast. We took a group of women in the church van (because, let's admit it: it's just more fun that way) and there was a woman with us I had never met before. During the weekend, I came to find out that her name was Melissa, she was the mother of two daughters (one of which had Trisomy 18), and that she was legally blind. She was relatively quiet, but we felt like she belonged with us. 

Several weeks later, I started an in-home Bible study, on Saturday mornings (what were we thinking?!) where we studied "Breaking Free". I came to hear about the marvel of my friend, super woman. Melissa would awake every morning at 4:30 to begin getting ready to feed Julia. She required medicine before eating, was fed with a syringe, and had to remain upright for a while after her meals. She required breathing treatments, chest physical therapy, and never turned down a good cuddle. Melissa would spend around 9 hours a day showering love and careful care on her sweet firstborn. Even though Julia was never able to communicate, we lived for the rare smiles and sweet eye contact (and those curls!! Loved her curls). 

Since our first meeting, in 2009, Melissa and her family have become some of our dearest and best family friends. When I was awarded (sarcasm) the gift of bed rest when I was pregnant, Melissa occupied me with a nearly continual string of text messages for the whole six weeks. In 2010, our Nina inspired to have the crazy, wild man, Elliot in 2011. (The story behind Melissa telling me she was expecting was just too precious. It included a sausage biscuit, a smiling 3 month old, and me dancing. Kind of like a modern day John the Baptist leaping in the womb story. But with a biscuit. And not our Savior... Anyway...)

This past January, our sweet Julia went to be with Jesus and was able to get reprieve from all of her earthly ailments. She truly was a miracle when only given 3-6 months to live at birth, she was able to spend 16 1/2 years spreading joy to us lucky folks here. Here is a pic of Nina and "Hoolie" as Nina loved to call her.

(I nearly cropped the photo, but was overwhelmed by Elliot's adorableness and Cami's creepiness. And the fact that Brad and Lee are completely unmoved by either. Due to Julia's suppressed immune system and Nina being a grubby toddler, I rarely let her touch Julia's hands. I must have been a slow mover that day, bc she is totally sneaking a hand-hold there)

Today, we ran the Race to Remember 5K in honor of our sweet girl. Melissa started training early and worked through asthma attacks to make it happen. We had more than 30 people get together to run and walk to show our love for Julia and our support for Brad, Melissa, Cami, and Elliot. 

There were a ton of awards given out (Even Brad got one for walking. And he walked with our friend, Yancy, who had a backpack full of peanut butter cookies and a thermos of coffee. Serious competitors here, people. Serious.) Besides bookoos of individual awards (I got second in my age division to my dentist. Probably smart that I didn't beat her since she has sharp instruments in my mouth), our group won 1st for most participants and 1st overall team score. 

Here are the trophies on the Dorsey's mantel 

Here is Melissa finishing her first 5K (that she worked super hard to accomplish) and our friend, Marlo who was her running coach! (Look how cute their shoes are!)

So proud of my friend and loved being with people who loved our Jules! Miss you, sweet girl! 

Team Julia! We run for those who can't!

The knoxhills half-marathon

Well, I did it. I ran my first half-marathon. And I loved it. This past weekend, Lee and I took off my old stomping grounds of Knoxville, TN starting at World's Fair Park, winding through campus, past the Torchbearer, along the TN river, through the old, gorgeous Cherokee neighborhood, along a covered trail path, back through campus and ending on the football field. Seriously, could they make a half-marathon more catered to me?! (I mean, maybe if they gave you a cup of coffee instead of energy gel. That would be amazing. Maybe we should work on that.)

Saturday, we headed to the runners' expo to pick up our race packets and to shop around. While there, I saw a shirt that said "The Knox hills marathon". Many people warned us that the Knoxville course was very hilly. We politely thanked them, then went on to say "We've been training in Summersville! It seriously can't be that bad!" We laughed at the shirt and went on to explore downtown. (Which has really turned super fun! When I was there, it was nothing more than some swanky hotels, an art museum, and a bunch of banks. Now, it has boutiques, theaters, cafés, restaurants, and on Saturday, had a sidewalk chalk competition! Where was that 8 years ago?!)

Saturday evening, we had dinner with one of my best friends, Rachel, and her family. Our kids hadn't met each other before, so it was a super sweet moment for us. (But we were too busy wrangling kids to take a picture.)

Sunday, I woke up with a pit in my stomach. I did NOT want to do this. After I ate and had my coffee, I realized it was time to get dressed. The nausea grew. We headed downtown to the start line and saw all of the people (7,500 total runners for all of the races) and got more dreadful. We immediately hopped in line for the portapotty and I began to appreciate what challenges most people had to endure to be there that morning. The start times were the same for the half and the full, so I was surrounded by people who were excited and nervous. Some wearing wacky outfits, some wearing shirts for an organization or a cause, many taped up and wearing braces. For most of us, the start line was months before and the finish line was simply showing up to the start line.

Once the race started, the excitement was everywhere. The UT band was our send off and we were off and running! With water stops and portapotties every 2 miles, I was wondering where these people were when I was training?! As we went through an old neighborhood, encouragement signs were everywhere. My favorite read "You can't quit! You're not the pope!"

We had driven the course the day before and were sure that the "hills" were merely "inclines" an we'd be fine until mile 11. I quickly laughed at this philosophy as we climbed hills most of the race and realized that "Knox hills" was a well-earned name for this course!

Between miles 8 and 9, a familiar pain that I experienced on my 11 mile run sprang up into my right hip. I stopped several times to stretch, but was getting little relief. As the race progressed, a blister formed on my left foot from trying to compensate for the pain on my right. At this point, my times were slowing and I knew I was going to miss my 2:15 goal, but knew if I could run through the pain, I could not exceed my ceiling of 2:30. In the middle of my 9th mile, I looked at my watch and knew that Lee (if finishing in his projected time) should be crossing the finish line (an impressive 1:45:57!), and this gave me a push. I was close. Really close.

I had my playlist on "shuffle" and was wishing I could have arranged my songs before the race started. As I was entering my 12th mile, God decided to show off and "Whom Shall I Fear?" began to play. It was the pinnacle. Tears steamed down my face as I began to not think about what others had done to come this far, but what God did in my life the last 12 weeks of training and all of the time we had together and He was there to carry me to the finish line. A 2:26:21 finish was my official time and I was proud of it. We sat in the stands, eating the awesome food they provided to the finishers as I soaked in the TN sun, enjoyed my family (including my brother), and loved talking to one of my by-chance-not-by-blood sisters and seeing our children interact. Full circle as I am in Neyland stadium.

At the 3:15 mark, we witness a woman l enter the stadium and she literally danced her way to the finish. Why hadn't I thought about that?! (Maybe bc if I had stopped to do that, my hip wouldn't have made it to the end?!) It was the perfect moment to soak in.

I can't wait for my next half (and am not sure I'll ever want to tackle a full). Now, to find a flatter course...

The morning of the race

After the race (and one of my favorite family pics)

The double blister

Even the man running on the medal knew about the hills

After the run, Rachel and I went to explore the new ADPi house (we're totally jealous)

My Deep Running Thoughts

Today, Lee took the senior high youth to Marshall University to explore the campus and attend Baptist Campus Ministries. I left early this morning to take my car for an oil change and Nina to her first dentist appointment (with my mom being nothing short of the best hygienist ever)

(Nina was awesome and was fascinated by Gigi's office)

 The glasses were to help with the bright light, but Nina is convinced it's so she matched Gigi.

The longer I was alone today, the more I had nervous time to think. Those of you who have been subjected to listening to my constant internal dialogue know that when left alone with my thoughts, constant worse-case scenarios play in my mind. And you, my dear readers, are about to be subjected to a censored, less dramatic version of my internal thoughts from today.

(You have been warned. You can stop reading at the cute kid in the dentist's chair)

This Sunday is my first half-marathon. When I set out for this half, I'm not going to lie when I say that I thought I would probably get hurt, fall behind on my training, or develop another sinus infection (only one in the whole 12 week plan; I'm pretty sure that's a new record for me!). Due to Lee's very busy Saturday schedule, most of my Saturday, long runs have been on the treadmill (If it hadn't been for The Bachelor, I would have never gotten through). So, my 10 mile run comes about and I KNOW it's time for me to hit the pavement, not the basement. 10 wasn't too awful. Had some noticeable hip pain from hills, but nothing too bad. Even wore my favorite heels to a wedding that afternoon

  Then 11 mile day came. I left the run thinking it was awful. (I have to walk a lot because I believe I'm more ADD than I ever imagined and non-stop running for 2+ hours just drives me nuts.) I finished it in 2:17. Not bad at all for hoping to be around the 2:15 mark for the race (Especially knowing how much worse the hills are in Summersville than in pretty much anywhere else). Then 12. Dear heavens. I'll spare you the horrible details of walks, boredom, and even stopping off at Dairy Queen. (Just to fill up my water bottles, I swear) I will tell you that there was a ginormous, dead fox on the side of the road that I almost took a picture of (just another excuse to stop running for a bit), but didn't think y'all would want to see a squished road kill with brains and intestines bulging. However, I finished 12 miles in 2:43. Humiliating. I nearly didn't post my run to RunKeeper to hide my slowness.

The panic button had been pushed. Could I finish 13.1? Yes. May my time just disappoint me so much that I wish I hadn't run? It's possible. I immediately start texting my seasoned half-marathon friend, Cindy (who is an English teacher and I know she reads my blog. Totally makes me paranoid about punctuation. When in doubt, use "...") She assured me that nerves are normal and that I'll surprise myself with completing, not in last place (Still not sure I'm buying her on that one). My doubts have continued to get a hold of me and have completely been stalking my brain. But in the last 24 hours, I have been given the best advice yet 1) From my sister-in-law: "This is just you. Not Lee and his times. Just you." Anytime I would start to tell her about my insecurity of running the same race as my husband who has gotten much faster since his first half-marathon, she countered with "Nope. Just you." (Love her.) And from Cindy 2) It's not going to get cancelled. This is going to happen. No backing out now.

This week, I have a few light runs to keep my legs moving, but let them rest. Today, was a 2 mile at race pace and I finished with the Christian battle cry "Whom Shall I Fear" by Chris Tomlin. "I know who goes before me. I know who stands behind. The God of angel armies, is always by my side." This week, I am determined to not let the enemy tell me what I can't do. My running time is my favorite worship time (even though I have to keep my hands down while doing long runs. I'm always afraid people will think I'm flagging them down instead of worshiping.). Karen speaks the truth that it isn't about Lee, but it's also not just about me. I have a date with my worship playlist on Sunday morning to prove to Him that I will "present my body as a willing sacrifice, holy and acceptable to Him". (Romans 12:2) That "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." (Phil 4:13) When I hit the hill on Sunday, at mile 11 and I start to think "I can NOT do this for 2 more miles" I'll remember that 1) that hill has 100' less than the awful hill we run on 19 and 2) "Nothing formed against me shall stand. You hold the whole world in Your hands. I'm holding on to Your promises. You are faithful. You are faithful." Therefore I will be.