by Amy | Feb 27, 2013 | Blog, Devotional, The Art of Faith
Derek and I work with the youth group at church. I don’t feel especially qualified, but I do feel especially blessed to be around those teens every single week.
This year we’ve slowly been working our way through the Book of Acts. A few weeks back we discussed this passage: Acts 14:21-28. You can click over to Bible Gateway to read it…or just read my paraphrase.
Basically what is going on is this. Paul and Barnabas {a killer ministry duo} have just finished a multi-national evangelistic tour. They could circle around, cut a corner and go back a different way than what they came, or return along their same path. Cut a corner, get home sooner…or take the long road, revisiting towns that attempted to kill them.
Doesn’t seem like a tough choice.
But Paul and Barney decide to return the way they came. They wanted to go back and check on all the new believers that had heard the Gospel on their first pass through. They wanted to follow though.
And that’s the message we tried to convey to the teens: follow through. The importance of following up, especially when it comes to new believers. In my mind, I find it important to follow through in all of our relationships. Sometimes I’m not very good at it, especially if it means following up with someone I don’t know very well. You trackin’?
Tonight someone followed through with me. It was someone I didn’t think I’d hear from again, but she called me up and left an encouraging message.
A few weeks back when I was visiting Dallas for the Strip Church training conference I recieved some startling/unexpected/emotion-rolling/hard-to-handle news. If you know me, you know that sometimes I can go over the edge with emotions. I just need to cry it out. So I was in the car, driving 70 mph down the highway, crying my eyes out. I decided that wasn’t the safest choice, so I pulled off at the nearest exit to collect myself. When the tears had stopped, I went inside to buy a drink. {I had that thick post-cry slobber clogging my throat.}
An older lady {I put her at mid-60’s} was working the checkout. She {out of habit} asked me how I was doing. Now, mind you…my face was a wreck. We are talking smeared mascara, puffy red eyes, pink nose, swollen lips…the whole nine yards. I didn’t have the energy to lie, so I told her I’d had better days. At this point she took her hands off my Aquifina and looked at my face. Then she sincerely asked how I was and what had me so upset.
I told her. Then she held out her hands and took hold of mine. She closed her eyes and prayed over me. In the middle of the gas station, with a line behind me. She prayed the Holy Spirit would be on me and give me peace. That I would have joy in my heart, strength and patience to endure. Then she asked how she could follow up with me. I had a business card in my wallet, so I handed it over to her.
I was fine for the rest of my drive. And I have had a certain amount of peace ever since. Honestly, I never thought I’d hear from her again.
Until tonight.
She {DeDe from the gas station in Texas} followed through. I missed the call, but I’ll call her back. I’ve never had a small act of encouragement touch me in this way.
The point is following up matters. Interacting with one another is a good first step. But the joy, peace and love that we plant at that initial moment will wither if we don’t follow through. As humans we need support. When we reach out to one another we need to take the long road back…to check up on our people. Lucky for us, it doesn’t mean we need to face the threat of being stoned. Just a phone call, or a text, or a facebook message. Just to check in and let them know that our meeting was sincere; not just habit. You can even be more basic than that: actually pray for the needs a friend expresses to you. {How often do we say “Oh, I’d love to pray for you,” only to forget? I know it’s happened to the best of us.}
This week I challenge you to follow up with one person. Friend, family, stranger…whatever. Someone who you connected with. Follow through, see how they are doing. Allow God to bless them through your encouragement. If that’s not enough to convince you, just trust Gavin DeGraw:
“You have to follow through
You’re gonna have to follow
Oh, this is the start of something good
Don’t you agree?”
Amy
by Amy | Feb 26, 2013 | Blog, The Art of Fitness
Do you know what winter hands are? I thought I did. Then I moved to Practically Canada.
The chapped hands of my past pale in comparison to what is going on with my knuckles right now. And it’s not just the knuckles. My whole hand is rough like someone ran sand paper over alligator skin. I’m telling you, I’ve never experienced hands like this before. The cold weather makes them bad. Cold season hand washing makes it worse.
If you looked only at my hands and guessed my age, you’d probably put me in the ball park of 75 years old. So gross.
So I reached out to locals. How the heck to they deal with this every winter? Newsflash…winter still has several months left up here. My hands will be bloody, chapped stumps by then if I don’t take action now.
I got a few pieces of advice. Lotion followed by socks over the hands before bed. Mary Kay hand scrub. Body butter. But the most unique tip is the one I’ve found to work the best. Are you ready to heal your nasty, winter hands? Go to your kitchen and get out your Crisco.
Wait, what? Crisco?!
Yes, you heard right. The very sweet, very northern yoga instructor at my gym clued me in on this little home-miracle. Just open up your tub of solid shortening and smear it on your hands. Then cover your hands with a pair of soft socks or gloves. Wear them to bed, or for 30 minutes at a time. You’ll seriously be amazed. It’s time to defeat our winter hands once and for all.
Amy
by Amy | Feb 21, 2013 | Blog, The Art of the Moment
Remember Lydia? Her sneak peek was up on Valentine’s Day. Well her session is finished and a disc of images is on its way to her proud mommy and daddy. I have to say, this little girl has personality…and I love a girl with attitude. She’s all smiles and giggles. She laughs out loud at herself and made us laugh along with her. I cannot wait to see her grow!
This session was shot in my lovely friend, Ellen’s home while I was visiting Louisiana a few weeks ago. I’d love to set up shop in your living room. Drop me a line…let’s set up a session! And, as usual…to see more of this adorable session go on over to the Facebook page. {You might as well like it while you’re there.}
by Amy | Feb 20, 2013 | Blog, Crafts, The Art of Projects
Pretty right?
This may be one of my favorite wreaths ever. I’m kind of a wreath junkie…so that’s kind of a big deal. It’s pink and romantic {a little late for V-Day} and just so gosh-darn pretty. I needed something to replace that awesome Pottery Barn knock off snowflake wreath from Christmas time. It’s really time I begin looking forward to a day with no snow and blooming flowers. This is a perfect fix.
I’ll tell you this: It was easy, but it wasn’t fast. Commit a few hours or a few nights of TV watching/multi-tasking and you too can be the proud owner of a wreath just like this. All for the low, low material cost of $9. Here’s what you’ll need: (more…)
by Amy | Feb 19, 2013 | Blog, The Art of Adventure, The Art of Fitness
Here’s the problem with skiing. They give you a map of the trails before you go up the lift…but the map is 2D. Sure the trails are color coded…black diamonds are the most difficult and clearly marked. But alas, the map is still utterly flat.
After a sufficient warm up at Huff Hills, where Derek and I skied over the weekend we began hitting the harder trails. Now, as you can imagine, I’m not a pro. I’m even a bit on the clumsy side {go figure}, yet all that taken into account, I’m a decent skier. After going down the hills marked with circles and squares I got more adventurous and went down one of the black diamonds.
It went great. Fast, fun…I didn’t even hit anyone.
Now, back to this 2D map. Skiing is a sport about three dimensions. Especially the vertical dimension. As in steep drops. We did really well on the hills we went down and made it a goal to hit all of the trails offered. Fine. Just fine. Until…
We found ourselves going down a trail called the Cougar. I then found myself faced with another problem of skiing: Once you start down a hill, you are committed. The flat trail map didn’t clue me in to a drop that seemed to fall off the end of the Earth. It didn’t tell me that the hell, excuse me, hill was a death trap.
The slope started off fine. An exhilarating drop much like the other diamonds we’d gone down. Then the trail leveled out for a moment. So level I was able to come to a stop to look at the view. After taking in the scenery I noticed that the slope seemed to have disappeared. I was now standing on the edge of a cliff {at least that’s how it felt…my story, I’ll exaggerate at will}. And here is where the second problem of skiing came into play. Once you go down, you can’t turn around and pick another trail.
It’s not like at the amusement park, where a kid stands in line for the scary roller-coaster, only to chicken out at the last second. That’s an easy fix. Skip the ride, go out the exit.
When you are on skis, you have one choice. Go down.
After freaking out for a moment, I gathered my nerves and pushed off. Swoosh…one drop down. A small level out, then another big drop. Knees bent, stay cool. Then, the world became a big jumble. It was like I was inside the plastic case of a game of Boggle. Everything was totally shaken as I tumbled {sans grace} down the hill. You know that scene from The Princess Bride when Wesley falls down the hill toward the Fire Swamp yelling “As…you…wisshhh”? {Watch it here.} Yeah, I’m pretty sure it looked like that. Or at least that’s how it felt.
The skis were off, my hat was off, I was a big snowy mess. Luckily there I was now at the bottom of the hill, just a slight easy slope back to the ski lift. I laid for a few moments, then put myself back together and met Derek at the bottom. He hadn’t fallen, but he did say, “Yep…wasn’t expecting that.” Needless to say, I was a bit gun shy for the rest of the afternoon. Overall I was okay, too. Nothing broken, just one bruise across my back. I’ll take it.
The warm weather was only a special weekend treat, though. Today we are back to a high of -9. Seriously? I hear things start to thaw out around April.
On a totally different note, thanks to all of you who were so kind and supportive yesterday when I opened up about my new ministry project. I’m totally jazzed to tell you more about it. I just love you all so much.
And speaking of things we love…remember Lydia? Her full session will be featured on the blog Thursday. So be sure to come back. And tomorrow I’ve got a killer wreath tutorial ready for your enjoyment. See you then!
Amy
by Amy | Feb 18, 2013 | Blog, The Art of Faith
Pretty bold graphic, right? But read the bottom…don’t get crazy, and please don’t leave the blog. I assure you I haven’t lost my mind.
If you’ve been around a while you know that my life can be some what unpredictable. I’m a hobby/skills/learning/adventure junkie, so I tend to try all kinds of things. Let me be perfectly clear: I’m not going to be working as a stripper. (more…)
by Amy | Feb 14, 2013 | Blog, The Art of the Moment
Hey all! Happy Valentine’s Day. I’ve always liked this holiday…even though I spent a lot of V-days dateless at home or out with the girls. Yes, believe it or not, this Awkward Annie wasn’t too popular with the boys growing up. {Crazy, I know.}
At any rate, I hope you find something to fall in love with today. Even if it’s just a new series on Netflix. {I recommend Pretty Little Liars or Revenge…or Freaks and Geeks–If you are looking for a date with the boob tube.}
While I was down in the dirty south I fell head over heels for a baby named Lydia Joy. Holy smokes this is a cute one, folks. Her momma and I are friends, and tragically I headed to Practically Canada before she graced the world with her presence. So while I was in town we set up a portrait session for her. I’m so glad I did. Enjoy this LOVE-ly sneak peek. The full session will be coming to a facebook page near you next week!
by Amy | Feb 14, 2013 | Blog, The Art of Living
As a kid I liked cats. They were cute and cuddly. My dad was {is} a dog person and our dog at the time {Chip} was not a kid person. If we had a dog that acted more like Chance from “Homeward Bound” I’d probably have been partial to dogs.
But Chip wasn’t Chance. He never saved me from a muddy well. Instead he growled every time I tried to touch him and gave me rope burn around my ankles from winding me up in his leash. {I still have the scars to prove it.}
I’m getting off topic. Back to cats. I liked cats. I wasn’t obsessed, but soon people started getting me cat things. Book ends, stuffed animals, books, you name it. Then suddenly when relatives were wondering what Amy would like for a gift they just looked around my room…got the idea I was totally into cats…and added another item to the collection. {This tends to happen with some things…like light houses, John Deere paraphernalia, and angels…I call it contagious collecting.}
I don’t know when it happened–maybe after I took down my cat posters {that I chose from the book fair at school}–maybe after having three barn cats of my own all die within a year of my ownership {to this day I call that the cat-curse}–but the whole cat thing settled down. Chip mellowed out once I was about 14 and I liked dogs again. After my experiences with cats getting hit on the road or dying of weird causes I decided dogs were more durable.
And I stayed a dog person for a long while.
Which is why it’s so strange that I’m now head over heels for this cat that I’ve named Panda. You know her. She’s made appearances here on the blog before. And if you have been reading a while you remember her antics from Shreveport. {If you didn’t read those…not sweat, just follow the links below.}
To refresh your memory, there was the day I took her to the vet and she pooped right in the front seat of the car. The time she peed in Derek’s dad’s lap…or maybe the time she pooped in her car carrier then laid in it and needed a bath. She really hates the car. And her hatred comes out in the form of poop. {But sometimes pee.}
When I got home the other day I noticed that Panda’s left eye looked funny. Her pupil was dilated and didn’t react to light. The next day her iris looked red and irritated. Worried that the cat curse was upon me again I called the vet. He saw us today. He rocks.
Panda was great on the 6 minute trip to the vet. She was a gem while she got her yearly vaccines and allowed the doctor to prod at her little eyeball. Then, 30 minutes later I got in the car to head for home. No sooner than I’d shut my door and “Killing Kennedy” on audio book had cued up…I smelled it.
“Oh please let that be a fart.” This was my deepest hope. Let’s be honest…nothing in the world smells worse than cat poop. Nothing. Oh, wait…except cat poop embedded in cat fur that you have to touch with your hands.
Once we got home I hauled the carrier up to the bathroom where I discovered things were as I suspected. I had a poopy Panda on my hands. Not to mention an angry Panda once the bathing experience started. I got wet. She got wet and mad. The bathroom got wet and smelly. Just another day in paradise.
Is there a morale to this story? No, not really. Other than to marvel at how funny out love for our pets can be. I’ve cleaned up poop and given a cat a bath more times than I’d like to count over the last year…all for a cat that was a beggar-stray 18 months ago. For the next two weeks I’ll pin her down {probably get scratched} and put eye drops in her cat eyes twice a day. How do they do that? How can they be so darn loveable without even trying?
I may never figure it out. And if I do I hope it doesn’t require another round of cat carrier poo patrol.
Amy
